TSR, 1977

Author: Gary Gygax

Physical Components:

At the time, it was difficult to see exactly what AD&D was supposed to be. Original D&D needed to be rewritten and the rules tightened up, and there was a demand for more rules and more options. AD&D was at first seen as a supplement to D&D, much as Greyhawk had been. With the release of the Basic D&D set (which was a simple cleaning up the original rules plus Greyhawk packed into a single volume, with a small sample of monsters and only enough information to take players to third level), the D&D game was still considered a single whole: players would begin with Basic D&D, and then “graduate” to AD&D as a matter of course. It wasn't until AD&D was complete that TSR's plans were clear: that there were to be two independent D&D lines, with the games entirely separate. Basic D&D players were expected to continue to the Expert and Master D&D rules, and so on, while AD&D was supposed to be a somewhat different game.

Not only was AD&D separated from the original D&D line, but TSR took a new, hard line to the game. The rules were no longer simply guidelines, but were supposed to be as solid as any other game's. Gary Gygax came down hard on rules modifications. The Players Handbook requested that players not tamper with the character classes or other restrictions in the name of play balance. The Dungeon Masters Guide took a harder line against rule modification. But it was too late: Original D&D had already let the genie out of the bottle in encouraging players to make their own rules, and there was no going back. Gary Gygax's demands for standardization in the name of play balance were ignored, and the entire RPG industry has been forced to abide by this philosophy ever since.

Sadly, TSR could not resist taking pot shots at competitors in their rule books. Mike Carr's forward to the Monster Manual warned that many competitors' products were shoddy, and Gygax's preface to the Players Handbook made ugly attacks on spell point systems, “arbitrary restrictions on female characters,” and “ponderous combat systems,” a sad joke that couldn't be fully appreciated until the Dungeon Masters Guide came out.

Gygax later argued that AD&D's call for standardization was to ensure easy tournament play, with national standards. He also admitted that he didn't play canonical AD&D himself. The tournament standardization excuse seems unlikely, and if that was really their intention, then TSR botched the job from the very beginning in not making this clear. In spite of TSR's stated desires to have AD&D become a hard and fast rules system that everybody agreed on, by continuing with the D&D name, it could only be the baseline upon which all individuals based their own house rules. The apocalypse didn't come: AD&D remained the primary RPG for many years, and it was clearly recognized as a unified game, even if there were large differences from group to group. In spite of the mass tinkering with the rules by DMs world-wide, AD&D players had little trouble adjusting to tournaments.

The Monster Manual

The Monster Manual (MM) was an exciting treat for DMs. First released in 1977, it appeared to be little more than a one-shot hardcover encyclopedia of creatures for the original D&D game. Monsters now had many new statistics, including an intelligence score, a size, and often new attack forms. There were many new monsters included, and there was also a much expanded treasure table, including treasure lists for loose coins the monsters were carrying on their persons. The durable hardcover format was a big success, and most DMs of the period happily integrated the new book into their existing games with little trouble or thought. There were only two changes to the rules with this book: monster hit dice were now d8, instead of d6, and the 9-point alignment system was now official, over D&D's Law/Neutral/Chaos system.

The Players Handbook

The Players Handbook (PHB) arrived the following year. The cover art by Dave Trampier set the mood wonderfully: the party of adventurers, having killed off the lizard men, were now preparing to loot the jewel-eyed idol, and who knows what mischief might ensue as a result? In our opinion, none of the major D&D or AD&D rule books since has had such a catchy cover. The book's forward warns players not to tinker with the new system, which is rather odd, considering that it essentially asks players to put this book away for over a year until the new Dungeon Masters Guide is published. In order to use the new PHB immediately, one must tinker with the rules at least a bit to shoehorn it into original D&D.

The PHB made changes to the rules that were as significant as Greyhawk's had been, but the changes were still evolutionary, modifications to the game rather than dramatically new ideas. Character classes were broadly defined as Cleric, Fighter, Magic-User, and Thief, with subclasses of Druid, Paladin, Ranger, Illusionist, Assassin, and Monk. Hit dice were boosted from Greyhawk, with Fighters now obtaining a full d10 and clerics getting a d8. Thieves got a d6, and Magic-Users stayed at d4. The new 9-point alignment system was explained, there was a confusing diagram of the outer planes, and there were loads and loads of new spells, weapons, armor types, and kinds of equipment. While the selection for clothing was rather limited (girdles and robes? No shirts, blouses, pants, dresses?) at least clothes were listed.

As for spells, there were all kinds of new details to absorb. Spells now required components, verbal, somatic, or material, in order to be cast. Many of the material components were jokey, or related to modern concepts (such as a tiny bit of copper wire for a Message spell) which damaged the believability of the game world, whatever that might be. Over the years, the jokey material components became positively annoying. While it seemed that they were intended to limit spellcaster power, what they actually ended up doing was to make spell casters into scavengers, scooping up pieces of every unusual monster killed in the expectation that it might be needed someday. Components also took the magic system away from the original concept borrowed from Jack Vance's Dying Earth series, whose magic was almost entirely verbal in nature.

It was still possible to cobble together a game using the new Monster Manual and Players Handbook with original D&D, and it worked pretty well. This was a good thing, because the long-awaited Dungeon Masters Guide seemed to take forever to be released. Dragon Magazine (issue #28) released some charts and tables in the interim, and we still remember this issue as being one of the most valuable we'd ever received.

The Dungeon Masters Guide

The Dungeon Masters Guide (DMG) was a wonder. It wasn't fun to read, but it made some big changes to the game. In a nod to powergamers, character generation was modified to grant characters higher stats. A number of options for character generation were presented to increase the probability of getting more 18's in ability scores. The combat system was updated a bit, with the addition of extra detail that largely served to slow it down. Melee rounds were broken down into segments, whose main purpose was to determine precisely when a spell-caster's spell went off. There was a rudimentary set of unarmed combat rules, which had little to do with the rest of the combat system and were complex and difficult to run. There were loads of charts and tables, tons of new magical items, basic rules on building fortresses, hiring men at arms, adventuring underwater, and so forth. In theory, everything a DM would need to run a campaign from 1st level to the top was here.

Deities and Demigods

The Deities and Demigods cyclopedia (DDG) came out a year later still. Gary Gygax wrote in the preface that it was to be considered an integral part of the game, yet somehow it never quite made it. While it included information on exactly how a cleric's spells were granted (lowest level spells by faith alone, higher level spells by increasingly powerful servants of the god/dess), and advice for DMs on how to keep clerics at their god's beck and call, the book was still little more than a Monster Manual of the Mythologies. There was far too much information on combat abilities of the deities, and far too little on what a deity might look for, what his or her goals might be, and how clerics of the faith should behave.

Unearthed Arcana

This was not a core rule book, but Unearthed Arcana made major changes to the game, most of them for the worse. Unearthed Arcana encouraged players to expect nothing but the most powerful characters possible. A new character generation method (Method V) had players choose their class first, then roll huge numbers of dice for each characteristic and pick the best 3 dice in order to generate their stats. Fighters got to roll 9d6 and choose the best three for their strength: how many fighters would have strengths of less than 18? Unearthed Arcana gave rules to permit players to take demi-human races hitherfore classified as monsters: drow and duergar, for example. New character classes (the Cavalier, Barbarian, and Thief-Acrobat) strained play balance. Unearthed Arcana also debuted TSR's new format for AD&D books: the first half of the book had material for the players, and the second half of the book was for the DM only. While this boosted sales for TSR, it was a serious inconvenience for gamers. Players only got half of their money's worth out of the book, and DMs couldn't use the new treasures described because their secrets were lost. The best feature of Unearthed Arcana was the new spells, but on the whole, the book probably ruined more games than it helped.

Playing the game

How well did it work? Well enough, although the system was starting to get cluttered. AD&D attempted to codify everything, often by creating new systems because there was no way to shoehorn everything into one resolution system. Debates were set off in Dragon magazine: did dwarven women really have beards, as Gygax insisted? Exactly how did this new 9-point alignment system work? Should the detail of weapon speed factors and combat segments be used more extensively?

Character generation

Character generation was still simple. You started by choosing a race (human, dwarf, elf, gnome, half-elf, halfling, or half-orc) and sex, and then generating character stats. These were slightly reordererd from original D&D, putting Dexterity fourth, as the prime requisite for thieves: Strength, Intelligence, Wisdom, Dexterity, Constitution, and Charisma. Players generated scores from 3-18, using one of four systems to create higher scores than the old unmodified 3d6 system. Method I (the most popular) used 4d6, discarded the worst die, and assigned the value to whichever stat desired. Method II rolled 3d6 12 times, and the top six scores were assigned to characteristics. Method III rolled 3d6 six times for each stat, and the player selected the one they wanted for each stat. Method IV generated 12 characters as for original D&D (3d6 for each stat, and no manipulations) and the player chose the character they wanted. This boost in character abilities was probably a nod to powergamers who refused to play non-exceptional characters, but may also have been a recognition that players were more invested in their characters now, and wanted good ones to begin with because they'd have them for a long time.

Race had an effect on characters. For starters, there were the straight out modifications (for example, elves received a +1 to dexterity, and -1 to constitution.) Non-humans received special abilities such as infravision, the ability to detect secret doors, and so forth. They had the option to be split-classed, meaning they could simultaneously be two (or three) different character classes. However, experience points were split between all classes, which slowed advancement, and races still had limitations on how high a level they could achieve, although these limits were higher than in original D&D. Unlike original D&D, there were now racial minimums and maximums on ability scores. Only humans could have the maximum strength of 18/00, although elves could theoretically reach an intelligence of 19.

Humans could not be split class, but could be dual-classed, meaning they quit one character class and started a new one. They could no longer advance in the old class, and once they reached the same level in their new class as they were in their old, they could start using their old class abilities again. The main advantage to playing a human was unlimited advancement in any character class.

The various classes had weapon and armor restrictions. These were slightly less restrictive than original D&D, partially because of the expanded number of weapons available. There was no explanation: magic users simply were not allowed any weapon other than daggers, darts, or staves. Characters were also permitted or denied the use of burning flasks of oil or envenomed weapons based on character class and sometimes alignment.

The DMG added a few extras to character generation to help flesh the character out. Players rolled on a table for a secondary skill, a non-adventuring skill that was presumably picked up while the character learned the adventuring trade. Then, the character's age was generated, based on race and class. On the whole, the new system tended to create more powerful characters, but they were still mainly archetypes, with little identity outside of their character class and race.

The Magic System

AD&D is where magic users first hit real limitations on learning magic. First of all, the spell lists were so large that even the mightiest of magic users couldn't possibly learn them all. Secondly, first level magic users were only permitted four spells: Read Magic, plus an offensive, a defensive, and a miscellaneous spell. Once they began advancing, magic users were allowed to try to learn any spell they could find, whether from a captured spell book, a scroll from a hoard, or something from their teacher's list. Suddenly, magic users became very focused on obtaining new spells. However, beyond the problem of locating new magic, there were no restrictions. Although the PHB had started classifying spells by types (Alteration, Evocation, etc.), this was not yet used to differentiate magic. Schools of magic did not appear until the 2nd edition, years later. Clerics were still allowed access to their entire spell list. While the DDG had made it plain that clerics were to be attached to particular gods, there was no differentiation of spells by faith: all clerics used the same spell list.

Combat

The basic structure of the combat system was little changed from original D&D. However, combat was more detailed, and the rules were more thoroughly explained. Armor class now went from 10 (unarmored) to 2 (plate mail and shield) with even better armor classes going into the negatives for enchanted armors. The combat round was defined as a full minute in length, and was subdivided into ten six-second segments.

The combat rules begin with Gygax taking two paragraphs to tell readers that a highly detailed combat system for an RPG (any RPG) is an error. Perhaps this is supposed to be a lead in to his explanation of what the AD&D combat round is supposed to represent: a full minute round with a number of feints and strikes, of which one is expected to hit home, this key attack being the result of the to hit roll. Hit points are largely intangible, a combination of luck, divine favor, and defensive tricks, with a few hit points being actual physical damage. This description implies that the designers carefully thought out what a proper simulation of combat should be, but it seems more likely it's an after the fact justification for the highly playable, but unrealistic D&D combat system, especially since AD&D's system is so clearly based on the original D&D rules.

Surprise: Combat begins with a check for surprise. Under normal circumstances, each side rolls a d6, and the other side is surprised on a 1 - 2. The difference between the two surprise die rolls indicates the number of six second segments that surprise lasts. Each segment of surprise permits the unsurprised side a full round's worth of action. Missile and thrown weapons may be used at three times the normal rate. While the rules don't explicitly state, we assume that spells may only be cast if their casting time (in segments) fits within the surprise time.

Combat Distance: This is randomly determined after surprise. The DM rolls a d6+4 for the number of inches apart the party is. “Inches,” in this case, refers to the miniatures roots of AD&D. Indoors and underground, an “inch” refers to ten feet, while outdoors, an “inch” refers to ten yards.

Initiative: Once surprise segments are over, both sides roll a d6 for initiative every round. Dexterity does not modify the initiative roll, nor does the weapon speed factor. The higher roll wins initiative. Actions are performed in order of initiative, including missile weapons, spell casting, and melee attacks.

Spell casting in combat: The caster must select their spell before the initiative roll. It is not stated if the caster must tell the DM what her choice is, but this would make sense. If the opponent manages to hit the caster that round before she can cast the spell, then the spell is spoiled (and the caster loses it from her memory). The actual moment of an attack thus becomes important.

Attacks occur on the segment indicated by the initiative dice, with the lower value (occuring first) going to the party with the higher initiative, and vice versa. For example, if the party has an initiative of 5, and the monsters have an initiative of 2, then the party attacks on the second segment, and the monsters on the fifth. If a spell caster's spell takes more than 2 segments, she risks being hit and losing the spell. The DMG notes that opponents with any brains will target spellcasters first in a combat.

Striking blows: Missile weapons and melee weapons use the same system. In case of simultaneous initiative, the weapon with the lower speed factor goes first. If the faster weapon has half or less of the speed of the slower one, or if the difference is five or more, then the faster weapon gets two strikes before the slower one. Since this only occurs during simultaneous initiative (1/6 of the time), it hardly seems worth the complication. The weapon speed factor is also used to compute whether an attacker can strike a spell caster before the spell goes off. However, Gygax uses yet another description of how to calculate this: compare the two segments that each side is acting on. If the difference between these segments is greater than or equal to the speed factor of the weapon, then the attack spoils the spell, assuming the melee attack was successful, of course.

It would have been far easier to simply let low initiative go first, with action beginning on the segment of the initiative die, and the actual segment of the attack would be initiative + weapon speed or spell casting time. In fact, this suggestion was made in Dragon magazine not long after the DMG was published.

To determine whether the attacker hits, a to hit number is obtained from a table. There are five to hit tables: four for characters (fighters, clerics, magic-users, and thieves) and one for monsters. The level of the attacking figure (or hit dice, in case of a monster) is cross-indexed against the armor class of the defender. The resulting number is modified if the attacker has a weapon and the defender is wearing armor (this table is in the PHB). The attacker tries to equal or exceed the to hit number on a d20. Attacking PCs get bonuses for high strength (or dexterity, if using a missile or thrown weapon). There are other bonuses for circumstances, such as attacking from behind or a side. A successful hit means a roll for damage, with each weapon having two damage ranges, one for human-sized or smaller targets, the other for larger targets. Damage is deducted from one's hit points, and the battle goes on.

AD&D has morale rules, which original D&D lacked. There's a simple 50% morale level for monsters, with a +5% for every hit die above one. There is a lengthy table with morale modifiers.

As many others have noted, AD&D has no critical hits and no called shots. One may get an automatic hit against an opponent who is unable to move; and an instant kill may be made against a totally helpless opponent. At its heart, the system is a good one: fast and workable, with three simple die rolls. The to hit number need only be calculated once for each opponent, and the damage factor is likewise simple. The combat system felt right, with a die roll for each attempted attack, and a hit doing actual damage to the foe—no matter what the designer said it was actually supposed to be simulating. But this is essentially original D&D's combat system: AD&D's embellishments usually served to complicate matters, and caused confusion. Why should weapon speed factors only apply in a tied initiative? Why should combat against a surprised foe be fought in segments, while melee is done in rounds? Why do missiles get tripled rate of fire in a surprise situation, while spells can't even be used in surprise unless they are very quick to cast?

Further, there are some omissions to this supposedly complete and tested system. What is the speed factor of monster teeth and claws (necessary information if a troll is ripping into your magic user)? Why doesn't each monster get its own speed factor? Why go to the effort of computing to hit bonuses and penalties for weapons against armor, but not against thick monster hides? (After all, the weapon to hit adjustment was by armor class, which could encompass different types of armor.)

A feature new to AD&D was the concept of item saving throws. While characters had saving throws against enemy magic, poison, etc. from the days of original D&D, AD&D added a table to determine how well items, such as a treasure chest, might survive a fireball thrown into its room. This was a new incentive for DMs to get rather fiendish about destroying items that were previously felt to be invulnerable.

Character Advancement

A big change from original D&D was in the experience/character advancement system. While the experience point system for all versions of D&D never seemed quite properly balanced, level advancement in original D&D was simple: when you earned enough experience points at the end of the session, you went up a level, with a new hit die and everything. In AD&D, it was no longer so simple. You had to locate an instructor, and you had to pay huge sums of gold to be trained. Characters were rated at the end of every game on a scale of 1-4, and one's average rating determined how long it took to train to go up a level—and cost was dependent on time.

Summary

AD&D fulfilled its promise: it was an advance for D&D, and at the time of its release, it was state of the art role playing. There were enough rules to cover most situations, and the system was complete with the first three books. All of the books that followed could legitimately be considered supplements, with the possible exception of DDG, which did contain some key concepts for clerics.

For many, AD&D was the only RPG. It quickly replaced original D&D, and the Basic/Expert/Master series of D&D was no competition for it. The “Advanced” in the title stroked the ego of gamers who felt it was a more challenging product. The game was still going strong for twelve years without significant modification by the company. Perhaps this was more a testimony to the ample sales of supplements and adventures rather than the quality of the rules, but if so, this was hardly a practice confined to TSR. The books were re-released with new covers, but the material remained unchanged until the 2nd edition of AD&D arrived in 1989. AD&D stimulated the imaginations of thousands of gamers across the globe. By any measure, this game was one of the most important in the RPG industry. In fact, more than ten years after it was retired, the original books are still for sale, in miniaturized editions.

But AD&D was a qualified success. It failed in its attempt to be canonical and all-encompassing. The rules could not be written to cover every eventuality, and players around the world rejected TSR's line that AD&D was not to be tampered with or modified. The attacks on other games are embarrasing and immature. The game screams out for much better editing, and the rules should have been tightened up. Sometimes the rules were difficult to understand, and the turgid prose discouraged repeated study.

While first edition materials could still be adapted to the 2nd edition without much difficulty, there is a larger gap between the 1st edition and the new 3rd edition, which has dropped the ill-advised “Advanced” from the title. By all accounts, the 3rd edition is smoother, cleaner, and more fun. There is no reason to go back and revive AD&D.

AD&D was a bad game for beginners, but not impossible. Certainly it was better than original D&D, except for the cost and the amount of material that had to be absorbed. The rules were less shorthand sketches, and more thorough, with examples of play here and there. But AD&D was never designed for beginners in the first place.

Decades of adventuring were inspired and supported by this product. This game rightfully has a place of honor here in the Museum.