Dungeons & Dragons White Box 29

Okay, let's try and work our way through the main body of the humanoids, starting with mermen and finishing with trolls.

MERMEN: Mermen are similar to Berserkers in most respects, but they fight at —1 on land. They are armed with tridents and darts (50/50). Armor class is equal to Leather Armor.

GOBLINS: These small monsters are as described in CHAINMAIL. They see well in darkness or dim light, but when they are subjected to full daylight they subtract —1 from their attack and morale dice. They attack dwarves on sight. Their hit dice must always equal at least one pip.

Composition of Force: When in their lair the “goblin king” will be found. He will fight as a Hobgoblin in all respects. He will be surrounded by a body of from 5-30 (roll five six-sided dice) guards as Hobgoblins also.

KOBOLDS: Treat these monsters as if they were Goblins except that they will take from 1-3 hits (roll a six-sided die with a 1 or 2 equalling 1 hit, a 3 or 4 equalling 2 hits, etc.).

There's little point here in going through these one at a time. I don't have much to say about mermen; they're a convenient monster related to sea battles and it's pretty obvious here that they haven't been fleshed out in any meaningful way. The tridents at least are logical weapons for underwater combat, since they're designed for fishing and they have no flat surfaces that create resistance when being moved through water. The darts, on the other hand, make little sense; why would a creature underwater have any reason to practice long enough with a thrown weapon to become competent at it — and even if we allowed for the possibility, how would this become cultural ideal?  But then, we're not supposed to look too closely at these things.

Though no society is granted to any of these humanoids, not even the acknowledgement of a "king" which requires our impressing human structures upon the goblin's, let me pause for a moment and discuss the convenient genius of goblins and kobalds, as a concept. Goblins, kobolds and the humanoids that come after form a graduated ladder of combatants that keep parties engaged from the first level onwards. The threat is calibrated; at the start, a handful of kobalds is dangerous, supplanted by one goblin be player character late in the first-level progress. With second level, we're free to increase the kobald or goblin numbers until they're conflated past practicality, by which time we replace them with orcs, hobgoblins and then gnolls.

However many levels the party gains for the first five or six levels, we can count on this dynamic, with ever more powerful humanoids, to carry the same basic rhythm of adventure forward: fight the guards, meet the first party of enemy inside the gates, then the second party, then the throne party... and finally, mopping up. Because can scale the humanoids, the threshold for success in a straight-up-fight, humanoid vs. humanoid, is preserved long enough for the players to become familiar and comfortable with the game's logic. This is more important than we give it credit for, and the basis of that construct is right here on pages 7 and 8 of the first D&D version.

Humanoids are close enough to humans to be legible — they use tools, they organise, they guard spaces — but far enough away that the players can fight and kill them without guilt, recent ridiculous grafting of race mechanics onto fictional beings that pre-date the printing press to one side. Much of conflict D&D, the core mechanic of the game (we've demonstrated repeatedly that it's a war game first, a "role-playing" construction second) is for players to become as desensitised to violence at their medieval forebears. We have no accounts of people complaining that warfare of the 12th century was "too harsh"; a casual investigation into 16th century literature and plays puts extreme cruelty to the forefront without hedging it with moral-consciousness or a call for leniency in the persecution of victims. If the game is to represent a medieval frame, then part of that frame is that survivors fight and things die.

Still, we are products of our culture and actual massacre of humans is a step too far for many, even in the 1970s. Goblins, kobalds and orcs, however... well, who cares what happens to them? Of course, in the quest to hamstring human nature, we've had to elevate these races to human status, and associate 1970s game culture with 1960s and 70s racism, assuming that correlation is causation, which says that orcs... even from Tolkien, writing in 1930s England and ludicrously far from 70s racism... are people too. It's a co-optification of something that can be conveniently disparaged without the inconvenience of having to produce actual victims... kind of like going after Santa Claus, the perfect villain who cannot defend himself.

All of it together counts as the colonialism of morality: symbolic righteousness is grafted onto anything and everything that contains value or meaning for a fictional other — that being people who are not me — which can then be stamped with an arbitrary "off limits" sign that flattens aspects of culture that might threaten a present-sensibility that feels, in the now, that they haven't got one.  The contemporary demands universal jurisdiction over everything — regardless of its tradition, legitimacy, emotional context, original purpose or fictional condition — in the name of humanitarianism, that respects everything except the free expression of humans. This produces symbolic righteousness, which is stamped on a flag and marched through the virtual internet streets until it fails to maintain "donational status," whereupon it is immediately abandoned in favour of something else that hasn't been colonised yet.

Thus, movies from the 1980s are no longer attacked for their social failing, because the number who remember such movies have dwindled. We must focus now on movies from the 90s, which can yet be extracted for it's performative value. But I digress.

ORCS: The number of different tribes of Orcs can be as varied as desired. Once decided upon, simply generate a random number whenever Orcs are encountered, the number generated telling which tribe they belong to, keeping in mind inter-tribal hostility. When found in their "lair" it will be either a cave complex (die 1-4) or a village (die 5-6). The cave complex will be guarded by sentries. A village will be protected by a ditch and palisade defense, 1 light catapult per 50 Orcs, and a high central tower of some kind. Orcs found in a cave will possibly have strong leader/ protector types, as will those in villages:

Orcs are the jewel in the crown of this scaling: they possess the same number of hit points or thereabouts as the player characters, possess comparable weapons, have the same attack table... though in this system, the White Box, these things are less evident in the muck of writing that we see here. Before I move on, I'll finish by saying that for at least three or four levels of character advancement, orcs remain the sweet-spot go-to humanoid encounter. Once a party has reached 5th level, not so much.

I'm unsure about the tribal designation method:  roll what die? What value does designating the tribe provide? If there are tribes, would they be so intermingled that four or more tribes (depending on the die we throw) could dwell or be encountered in the immediate area? Is the die rolled everytime? No, turns out not; its explained below, where the paragraph makes this die roll thing immaterial.

We can see the extra effort being put in here: orcs aren't just underground monsters, no, they live in villages too, just like humans. However, since they're affected by daylight like goblins, who knows what would motivate an orc to live above ground. Maybe they farm? If so, it might be logical for them to put up with the sun if they need the crops — 'course, if they've developed through evolution, is it logical for creatures able to live above ground to still reproduce young not affected by sunlight?

Then, if you accept the Tolkein argument that they're birthed from pools of mud (or something, I haven't read the books in a really long time, I only remember the movie), is Saraman telling them they have to live in villages, "because"? Think about it: you're a 7th to 9th level fighter, or an 11th level mage, and you don't want surface tolerant humans as your army, because you're evil and we KNOW from historical sources that no evil leaders since the dawn of history have EVER been able to raise armies willing to obey anyone evil... so instead, you choose to populate your village with creatures that not only shy from the light, but actually attack worse because of it. Interesting choice there.

Yes, I know, it's still all Chainmail detritus, but let's at least pretend we're worldbuilding, since the books say we are.

Ogres and trolls I can buy; trolls have always seemed a bit rabid to me, but that's just the early games I played. It makes sense on the "bigger creature" dominating the weaker ones, or if you prefer, the smarter orc feeding the ogre/troll in order to get it's cooperation. But the dragon? Really? Where's the exchange here? Can a hundred orcs meaningfully defend a dragon — and if they can, is there any reason for the dragon to feel safe around them? Would you feel safe with a hundred orcs? And if you were a hundred orcs, would you feel safe with a dragon? Both do not eat the same foods, they don't have the same goals, they don't living in similar environments, really, and they're more apt to compete for the gold than share it. Again, Chainmail detritus... isn't it cool that defender are both dragons and orcs? But if this is all just wargame nonsense, then why in good gawd does it matter what tribe the orcs are?

It's like a cheetah being protected by 20 gazelles.

Orcs will defend their lair without morale checks until they are outnumbered by 3 to 1.

And then what happens? I assume this is how fighters and mages get their "followers." First, you slaughter all the orcs in a tribe until there's one left (assuming your party has five or less characters in it) — and then that orc, whose family and friends you've slaughtered, surrenders assuming that you won't kill it to. Or maybe, only now, not when there are still ten of them, this last one breaks and flees into the dark, to rebuild its tribe.

Sure. Makes sense.

IF found other than in their lair Orcs may be escorting a wagon train of from 1-8 wagons. There is a 50% chance for this. Each wagon will be carrying from 200-1,200 Gold Pieces. Wagon trains will have additional Orcs guarding them, 10 per wagon, and be led by either a Fighting-Man (die 1 = Champion, die 2-4 = Superhero, die 5-6 = Lord) or Magic-User (die 1 = Sorcerer, die 2-4 = Necromancer, die 5-6 = Wizard), 50% chance for either (die 1-3 = fighter, die 4-6 = magical type.)

I'd love to know why orcs are throwing hundreds of gold pieces onto wagons and heading off for places unknown. Where, exactly? To far-flung orc villages who have things these orcs don't? Do these orcs carry any actual goods, too? Unknown? And where are these villages? Or are you saying that orcs are trading with humans?

No, wait, I've got it. It's like the cargo cults of New Guinea who built husk airplanes like the Allies used when they occupied the country during WW2. The orcs see humans driving around these wagons and assume this is some religious thing, that if the orcs just go around in circles, goods will magically appear.

It's D&D. Wouldn't it be cool if that worked?

Unfortunately, no. The wagons exist to be ambushed by player characters, so they must be carrying gold. So they roll, laden with abstract wealth, bound for nowhere in particular, guarded by improbably high-level leaders, waiting to be intersected by the only agents in the setting who actually have goals: the players.

Note that if Orcs are encountered in an area which is part of a regular campaign map their location and tribal affiliation should be recorded, and other Orcs located in the same general area will be of the same tribe.

See? You don't actually roll a die. They were just joking.

Orcs do not like full daylight, reacting as do Goblins. They attack Orcs of different tribes on sight unless they are under command of a stronger monster and can score better than 50% on an obedience check (4-6 with a six-sided die for example).

I've talked about this, above.  Don't you like that the attack the other tribe is made wholly random, not something you can rationally decide as a DM depending on the present circumstances? What makes this especially galling is that the text already knows obedience and command exist. It explicitly invokes a stronger monster as a suppressing force — but no, orcs cannot suppress themselves. Maybe its an odour thing. 

HOBGOBLINS: These monsters are large and fearless Goblins, having +1 morale. The Hobgoblin king will fight as an Ogre, as will his bodyguard of from 2-4 in number.

GNOLLS: A cross between Gnomes and Trolls (. . . perhaps, Lord Sunsany did not really make it all that clear) with +2 morale. Otherwise they are similar to Hobgoblins, although the Gnoll king and his bodyguard of from 1-4 will fight as Trolls but lack regenerative power.

OGRES: These large and fearsome monsters range from 7 to 10 feet in height, and due to their size will score 1 die +2 (3-8) points of hits when they hit. When encountered outside their lair they will carry from 100 to 600 Gold Pieces each.

Here we see the scaling up, bigger and bigger, to keep the players moving forward into tougher realms and opponents. There's not a lot of logic added. Hobgoblins are led by ogre-like leaders, gnolls by troll-like leaders, and so on.

Why on earth would an ogre carry gold? To what purpose? I mean, I suppose we can argue that he just likes them, but consider this. A being of 10 feet in height, all other things being equal is 4.62 times larger than a humanoid. This makes a coin about 1/3rd the diameter in the ogre's fingers. Imagine carrying a bag of nickels where each is a quarter of an inch wide. It would feel like a bead in your hand; would that give you any pleasure as an ideal of wealth? You can't spend the money; where would you go to buy things? Therefore, if you're carrying it for sentimental reasons, wouldn't it make sense to melt it down and hammer it into large pieces that were designed for your sizable digits? Wouldn't it make more sense for the ogre to have a gold torc, or an idol, or some kind of chain or belt it wore? Why a sack full of player-convenient coins?

And for that matter, why not silver, copper, jade, even articles made of wood or stone? Why gold in particular? The function of wealth in crude society is about flaunting it; the gold head on your club demonstrates your prowess. A bag over your shoulder tells no one nothing.

Last of all, note: no mention of "giant strength."

TROLLS: Thin and rubbery, loathsome Trolls are able to regenerate, so that beginning the third melee round after one is hit it will begin to repair itself. Regeneration is at the rate of 3 hit points per turn. Even totally sundered Trolls will regenerate eventually, so that unless they are burned or immersed in acid they will resume combat when they have regenerated to 6 or more hit points. In strength they are about equal to an Ogre, but as they use only their talons and fangs for weapons, only one die of damage is scored when they hit an opponent.

I have no particular problem with this. As a DM, except perhaps in situations where players cannot just cope with the trolls, because they have a lot else going or, or there are enough trolls, the "regeneration" feature does not make a troll particularly dangerous. Usually, once the troll is down, players do not hesitate to begin hacking it to pieces and building a fire atop it without hesitation. Maybe there are players who see the troll die and say, "Whew, that's over," but I began running the game in 1979 and I have never had a party that did that.

Sorry, the cat is out of the bag. The troll is not dead when it's killed and everyone knows it. This means that the troll has maybe 9 or 12 more hit points (that it regenerates back during a combat) than other 6+3 hit dice monsters, but since no one EVER walks away from the troll after it stops fighting, that's all this "dreaded" ability is good for. If, as a DM, I want to really play it up, then I have to have the troll fall off something as it dies to keep the body out of reach of the party, or something has to conveniently appear just as the party is building their bonfire, or maybe a stream conveniently soaks the ground long enough for the troll to heal up... but if it does, then, realistically, the party is still just fighting a troll with 3 or 6 or possibly 9 hit points, if it's had three whole rounds to regenerate — which is, sorry to say, not much of a hazard for a party ready to fight the troll already. Unless the party is 2nd level (in which case the troll will waste them before it dies), then a 9 h.p. troll won't last long against a 5th level party. Even three trolls with 12 h.p. or less won't last long if the party they face was able to kill the three trolls to begin with.

So, while I've listened to this, "Oooooo, troll, SCARY" rhetoric for a long, long time, it never pans out. Either the original trolls are too much for the party to start with (because of damage caused or it's to hit matrix, NOT because of it's regeneration), or the mopping up of troll bodies is meh, job done. There's no middle ground I've ever seen. 

Oh, good. I'm there. 'Til next time.