All Eleven New Classes From the Swords & Wizardry Book of Options, (Casually) Rated From 1 – 10

First off, what do I mean by “casually?” I mean that I’ve held off on using any of these in an actual game thus far, so all my opinions are based on the text and the semi-expert (?) status I’ve acquired over my past 35 years as a classic D&D enjoyer. In other words, my thoughts on how a given new class might play relative to the standard ones is both purely conjectural and strictly personal. Now, without further ado...

BARBARIAN

A very strong start. Essentially the Unearthed Arcana version done right, without all the overbearing roleplay restrictions (like insisting on destroying every magic item the party finds) and toned-down just enough in terms of overall power to not make regular fighters obsolete. They enjoy the biggest hit dice of any official S&W class yet, d10s, but they’ll need them, seeing as they can’t wear any armor better than ring mail (AC 6). In addition to that, they get ranger style tracking and resistance to surprise, thief style climbing and keen hearing, some other detection bonuses (secret doors, illusions, etc.) relating to their keen senses, and a unique ability to improve their own odds of gaining surprise by laying ambushes. They tend to be chronically short of cash, however, since they can’t own more wealth than they can carry on their persons. I’ve always been skeptical of the need for a “Conan class,” seeing as how he was already a major source of inspiration for the fighter, but this is still probably the best one I’ve seen.

Rating: 8/10

BARD

Essentially a variant druid that sacrifices considerable spellcasting ability and the signature shapeshifting for a better weapon and armor selection (they can wear chain and wield anything), a percentile lore skill, the ability to fascinate crowds with oratory, and many (one per level gained!) bonus languages. Interestingly, they can also use the same magic items as fighters, druids, and thieves, despite having no thief abilities. On paper, the hit they take to spellcasting seems dire. I’m talking no third level spells until they reach bard level ten, and they must wait all the way until bard level eighteen to access their highest (fifth) level spells. I suspect that whether that tradeoff is worth it or not is going to depend on just how useful lore and language skills are in a specific campaign. I simply adore the flavor, though. Original AD&D’s pseudo-Celtic bardic warriors were always a bit cooler than AD&D 2nd Edition’s foppish minstrel bards in my book.

Rating: 7/10

CHIVALRIC KNIGHT

Of all the classes on offer here, this is the only one that left me completely underwhelmed. In theory an update to the old AD&D cavalier, I just don’t think this one offers enough bang for the buck. Roughly 130 gp worth of free gear at the start in form of a horse, a selection of weapons, and some chainmail armor is…fine, I guess. It’s just too bad that first level is really the only time in a character’s career where laying hands on that kind of money is remotely difficult. Other than that, you get a +1 to hit (only, no extra damage) with sword, mace, and lance. This doubles to +2 on horseback. Oh, and you can request free meals and lodging at castles due to your knightly status. That’s really it as far as upsides. Not much at all compared to the general combat boosts fighters with above-average strength and dexterity enjoy, never mind the likes of paladins and rangers with their suites of exotic powers. Worse, you have serious roleplay restrictions to contend with, such as not being able to use any missile weapons (!) on account of them being dishonorable or whatever, and, of course, being beholden to an NPC liege. I just can’t imagine ever recommending this class to a player as written. If you really want to be a “knight in shining armor,” you’re better served rolling any other fighter type and just ponying up (pun fully intended) for a horse.

Rating: 2/10

DEMON HUNTER

Now we’re talking! These guys, magic-user/cleric hybrids with big Solomon Kane energy, are everything I could want them to be. They lean hard into the original Law vs. Chaos alignment system, being stern champions of Law obsessed with rooting out and destroying Chaos wherever it hides. Think the paladin, if they were less upright knightly types and more grizzled swashbuckling occultists. They also have an opposite number in the form of fallen demon hunters called Nimoroths that have sold out to Chaos. Like clerics, demon hunters have d6 hit dice and can turn the undead (although not quite as well as clerics can). They aren’t restricted in terms of weapon types and can wear light armor. Similar to magic-users, they prepare their spells from books. They have their own spell list consisting of five levels. Demon hunter spells tend to be laser-focused on their core task of finding and destroying manifestations of Chaos, and they also all tend to tie into the alignment system somehow. For example, their Magic Missile equivalent, Dart of Radiance, deals full damage to Chaotic targets, greatly reduced damage to Neutral ones, and zero damage to Lawful beings. Finally, attaining higher levels eventually gives them special abilities to detect disguised lycanthropes, demons, and other creatures of Chaos. I can’t say enough good things about the design of this class. It’s wicked cool, well thought-out, and makes clever use of the too-often neglected alignment system.

RATING: 10/10

DWARVEN PRIEST

A slightly modified fighter/cleric with a maximum level of twelve, the dwarven priest suffers from a slowed-down spell progression akin to the bard’s (that caps at cleric spell level four) and the loss of a few abilities from both classes (fighter parrying, clerical turning) in exchange for not needing as much experience to advance as a true multi-class would. If you like the idea of being able to cast a few cleric spells in conjunction with the fighter’s d8 hit dice and no “blunt weapons only” prohibition, this is the class for you. The big sell here for me, though, is that level ceiling of twelve. S&W typically restricts dwarves to no higher than eighth level as fighters, and anything above sixth requires a strength score of 17+! This alone makes it a great choice if you just want to play a mighty dwarf warrior first and foremost. As a whole, not very novel, but quite functional.

Rating: 7/10

ELFBLADE

At first glance, the elfblade looks similar in spirit to the dwarven priest. You have a single-class elf fighter/magic-user (not unlike B/X or BECMI D&D’s dedicated elf class) that trades in some magical ability for d8 hit dice and a generous maximum class level of twelve. Instead of the fighter’s dexterity-based parry ability that improves armor class in melee, the elfblade has an intelligence-based “arcane parry” that improves their saving throws against magic that targets them. The question of whether the elfblade is better than a standard elf fighter/magic user is a complicated one. I think it depends on the hypothetical character’s exact ability scores. If strength and/or dexterity are notably high, the fighter option can really shine. If they aren’t (and especially if intelligence is), the elfblade becomes a very attractive choice. Keep in mind, though, that the slower magic advancement is no joke. A fighter/magic-user will be able to start throwing around fireballs after attaining level five (40,000 xp); the elfblade must wait until level seven (100,000 xp). Elfblades are also limited to no higher than fourth level spells, whereas fighter/magic-users with good intelligence can potentially master fifth level ones as well. I’ll rate this one just slightly lower than the dwarven priest, since I don’t feel it expands the horizon for elf players as much as that class does for dwarf fans.

Rating: 6/10

ILLUSIONIST

By far the simplest to summarize and review. This is straight-up Peter Aronson’s vintage illusionist, as first seen in the pages of Strategic Review and later, slightly modified, in the AD&D Players Handbook. It works exactly as you remember it, spell list and all. Not that fans of the class would want it any other way.

Rating: 8/10 (i.e. iconic for a reason)

NECROMANCER

A variant magic-user with a five-level spell list containing a mix of new and recurring dweomers focused on death, darkness, and the undead. Weapon options are notably better, though, with the added ability to use slings for ranged damage and a scythe (reskinned battle axe) in melee. They also get a “bind undead” power that functions much like an evil cleric’s command function from AD&D. In other words, they can roll on a table resembling the one clerics use for turning in order to see if they can compel certain non-intelligent undead like skeletons, zombies, and ghouls into their service. Canny Referees will quickly realize that they can repurpose this table for Chaotic clerics in S&W, regardless of whether they intend to use necromancers proper in their campaigns or not. While they don’t technically have to be of evil/Chaotic bent, necromancers can’t be Lawful. Spells are mostly what you’d expect, with a few surprises, like good old Raise Dead. One thing that strikes me as potentially dicey is that most of their few true offensive spells rely on being able to touch targets. That’s not always a great plan with d4 hit dice and no armor. Still, there's ample spooky flavor here. Who doesn’t love the idea of having hordes of badass undead minions? Such a character would probably do well to exercise some discretion regarding their career choice when mixing with general society, though.

Rating: 7/10

TROUBADOR

This one is dead simple, but I dig it. What we have here is a variant thief that gets access to low level (maximum third) illusionist spells and a magical singing ability (effectively the same as the bard’s oratory) in exchange for no backstab attack and overall slower thief skill progression. A straightforward, pick-up-and-play take on the “arcane trickster” archetype. Not all that different from the assassin, in a sense, except they get more hit points and expertise at poisoning and disguise instead of spells and mind control singing. If you’re reminded of the AD&D 2nd Edition bard, that’s likely no coincidence.

Rating: 7/10

WARLOCK

Another class like the demon hunter that combines elements of the cleric and magic-user with d6 hit dice, no weapon restrictions (but alas no armor), and an emphasis on alignment-based magic. The warlock represents an Elric of Melniboné style sorcerer who draws power from pacts made with powerful beings from other dimensions. Despite the sinister title, this can include “good” Lawful entities as well as diabolic Chaotics and aloof Neutrals. In effect, the warlock is three classes in one, as almost every spell on their five-level list has a Lawful, Neutral, and Chaotic variation. For example, the first level warlock spell Infuse Mortal Form allows Lawful casters to heal the target of 2-7 damage, Chaotic casters to raise the target’s strength by 2-4 for a limited time, and Neutral casters to temporarily sharpen the target’s senses and greatly improve their ability to spot secret doors. Most critically, though, warlocks are the only casters that don’t need to select and prepare their spells in advance. So long as they have a spell slot of a given level “open,” it can be channeled into any warlock spell of that level from the main list they desire. Their spell list is naturally quite limited to balance out all this flexibility, consisting of thirty choices total, six per level. The warlock is a real winner for me. It has a strong sword & sorcery flavor, since warlocks more closely resemble the magician characters in the fiction works of Robert E. Howard, Clark Ashton Smith, or Michael Moorcock than either the standard D&D magic-user or cleric. As much as I love those classes, I can easily imagine a campaign in which warlocks replace both! Again, as with the demon hunter, the implementation of the spells themselves is a fantastic way to make the alignment scheme really matter in the game. Bravo!

Rating 9/10

WRATH-CHANTER

Shame to end on a lower note, but the wrath-chanters, BoO’s take on berserkers, seems like another undercooked fighter variant in the vein of the chivalric knight to me. Like the knight, they suffer from the dire restriction of being able to use no missile weapons at all. Like the barbarian, they’re limited to mid-range armor (chain), although they aren’t afforded bigger hit dice to compensate. Their one and only asset is the ability to enter a berserk rage in melee. This requires a successful percentile roll, with the success chance starting at an extremely modest 15%. If unsuccessful, they get to keep trying for free in each subsequent round. They can also spend a whole round doing nothing but trying to go berserk, which grants +15% to the roll. Once it does finally kick in, their combat rage does confer some decent bonuses. A starting +1 to hit and damage that eventually reaches a maximum of +3 at eight level, immunity to mind-affecting spells, the capacity to keep fighting for a while with negative hit points, etc. That’s nothing to sneeze at, but factor in the harsh equipment restrictions and their complete lack of other skills and they’re effectively a one-trick pony that will only perform its trick if you get lucky. Why would you settle for this when the fighter, paladin, ranger (and maybe barbarian) can do so much more so much more reliably? Beats me!

Rating: 3/10

Review: Swords & Wizardry Complete Revised

Mythmere Games has recently finished work on Swords & Wizardry Complete Revised, an updated take on their flagship fantasy RPG. As an enthusiastic backer of the book's highly successful Kickstarter campaign and equally enthusiastic reviewer of game stuff, I couldn't wait to dive in and take you all along for the ride. The information below is based on the first PDF release of the core rules sent out to backers, which should be virtually identical to the upcoming final print and PDF releases, barring a few minor last minute typographical fixes.

Before I get to that, however, here's a little disclaimer: This latest release isn't my introduction to Swords & Wizardry Complete (S&WC). I've been a fan of the game's earlier incarnations for years. I even furnished some (very minor!) behind-the-scenes assistance with the preparation of this Revised edition, mainly by collecting outstanding errata. Though my name appears in the book's credits as a result, I'm in no way compensated, let alone employed, by Mythmere Games and purchased my copy of the book with my own money, just like the 2800 other Kickstarter backers. So while my fanboy status means you probably shouldn't expect an unbiased review out of me, you can at least be assured that none of my praise has been purchased.

With that out of the way, what exactly is S&WC? In essence, it's a cleaned up, legally distinct restatement of the very first ("pre-Advanced") set of rules for Dungeons & Dragons that were initially published between 1974 and 1978. In other words, the ur-game all RPGs to this day derive from. The Swords & Wizardry brand has been around since 2008 and is the creation of Matt Finch, author of the acclaimed Tome of Adventure Design accessory and the same fellow who pioneered the whole idea of finding legal ways to publish new material for legacy versions of D&D, thereby kicking off a little thing called the OSR (Old School Renaissance) movement.

Having been born in the tail end of the 1970s, I cut my gaming teeth on a combination of AD&D and the later 1981 B/X D&D line. For the longest time, the only things I knew about the various foundational Dungeons & Dragons rules pamphlets (colloquially known as Original D&D, OD&D, or 0E) were that they were chaotically organized, choppily edited, and expensive collectors items to boot. It wasn't until I saw how the material was presented in Swords & Wizardry Complete that I truly understood the lightning-in-a-bottle success of early D&D. Finch's artful polishing revealed that the original was not only a better game at its core than I would have expected, but a better one than I could have imagined.

See, when the classic D&D family tree split into two main branches in 1978 (largely due to acrimonious high-stakes legal wrangling between Gary Gygax's TSR and ousted OD&D co-creator Dave Arneson), each branch inherited some of the fledgling game's coolest features. AD&D got the gritty sword & sorcery feel, demonic antagonists, and iconic character classes like the assassin and paladin, albeit wedded to a significantly larger and more complicated set of mechanics. The Basic D&D line, starting with the first boxed Basic set edited by J. Eric Holmes, assumed OD&D's overall simplicity and ease of modification/expansion. S&WC is what demonstrated to me what an elegant "best of both worlds" option the pre-split rules could therefore be.

So far, I could be describing any of several prominent "retro-clone" game lines based on OD&D. What makes this one different? Well, that mainly comes down to the fact that the core mission of S&WC isn't to replicate the primordial 1974 "white box" D&D alone (as with White Box: Fantastic Medieval Adventure Game and Delving Deeper) or AD&D (as with OSRIC), but instead to capture the essence of D&D as it was commonly played right before AD&D grew to dominate the scene circa 1979. By widening its scope to incorporate all the best material from the various OD&D supplements (including Greyhawk, Blackmoor, Eldritch Wizardry, and key bits from the magazine Strategic Review), it's fundamentally doing something no other modern repackaging does.

This leads into the second most common question newcomers to S&WC tend to have: If you're not going to embrace the bare bones three character class approach of the '74 White Box, why not skip straight to AD&D? For me, the answer's easy: The things I love most about AD&D, such as the separation of character species and class (as opposed to every elf being a hybrid fighter/magic-user) and the wide assortment of flavorful class options, come with some major downsides. People are still arguing to this day over exactly how AD&D's surprise and initiative rules are even intended to work, for example. S&WC functions for me like an alternate universe version of AD&D that gathered together the best of the entire OD&D line, reorganizing and streamlining it without dialing up the base complexity or shifting the emphasis away from empowering individual GM's in favor of the "official" rulings from on high. Running combats and other common adventuring scenarios with it is no more complex or time-consuming than doing so with, say, the newbie-friendly B/X edition.

That said, don't underestimate the many nitty-gritty differences between how various character classes were presented pre and post-AD&D, either. The S&WC paladin, for example, is clearly the far less cleric-like version from Supplement 1: Greyhawk. That means no spellcasting or turning undead. Similarly, those only familiar with post-AD&D implementations of the assassin, ranger, monk, and even common fighter are in for some fascinating surprises here.

But enough backstory! If you didn't know what and why S&WC is, you damn well do now. Time to tackle Revised more specifically. What does this rendition of the game bring to the table that previous ones didn't? Most immediately obvious is the new layout by Mythmere's Suzy Moseby. To me, it's a clear improvement on what came before, especially in the area of spell listings, monster stat blocks, and other concentrated nuggets of game data. I find that the situational pivot to a three column format for these list-like sections makes picking out relevant bits of information on a page more intuitive and quicker than ever. While I can detect the influence of Necrotic Gnome's Old School Essentials line at work, S&WC doesn't wholly embrace that paradigm. I prefer this, as it allows for a pleasing middle ground between the somewhat dry OSE bullet point format and Finch's colorful and often witty prose style. For a fine example of the latter, check the description of the spell Holy Word: "Creatures of fewer than 5 hit dice are slain; creatures of 5–8 hit dice are stunned for 2d10 turns; and creatures with 9–12 hit dice are deafened for 1d6 turns. Creatures with 13+ hit dice are unaffected but probably impressed." As a fan of authorial voice in my RPGs (within reason), this suits me fine.

This superior layout is accompanied by new black-and-white interior art from Del Teigeler, J.E. Shields, Brett Barkley, Chris Arneson, Ed Bickford, Ala Fedorova, Mike Hunter, J. Preston, Adrian Landeros, and Matt Finch himself. Though there is perhaps less of it than in some earlier editions, I found every piece to be tastefully done and relevant to the text it accompanies. A quality-over-quantity approach, in other words. My favorites include the assassin who, in a nice twist relative to the stereotypical knifing scenario, is shown running away from the aftermath of a bombing and the adorable pack llama that closes out the equipment chapter.

The two cover art options, a gorgeously understated gold sigil by Del Teigeler (available with premium Smyth sewn binding as well as print-on-demand) and a typically trippy take on a wizard facing down an extradimensional beastie by the inimitable Erol Otus (a print-on-demand exclusive), are both wonderful in my eyes. I've encountered some negative responses to the Otus piece, largely based on the notion that the monster in it resembles a space alien more than a traditional fantasy critter. Need I remind you all, however, that OD&D dates from a time before these sorts of distinctions were treated as holy writ by speculative fiction lovers? The original boxed set includes androids and Martians on its encounter tables and the first officially published adventure, Dave Arneson's Temple of the Frog, was based on a Star Trek episode. So lighten up and embrace the gonzo, already!

Leaving aside their presentation, the rules themselves have seen their most substantial revision and expansion to date. Most of these changes were suggestions by fans meant to bring the game even closer in function to OD&D proper. Monster stats now include the number appearing and lair encounter percentages, as well as morale scores intended for use with the long-awaited optional B/X-compatible morale system debuting here. High level monsters award increased experience. Wilderness travel has been fleshed out with additional guidelines pertaining to encounter check frequency and a nifty section devoted to generating random castles and their powerful inhabitants. Suggested procedures for spell and magic item creation are now provided. Intelligent weapons now get their due in S&W via the addition of simplified rules for Stormbringer style ego clashes. Random treasure generation, a particular sore point for me in prior editions, has been completely overhauled. It now calls for far fewer rolls and makes magic items much more accessible. Too many rolls and too little magic were my two biggest gripes with the old "trade-out" system, so I couldn't be happier. At this point, I feel confident saying that pretty much every worthwhile concept from the OD&D corpus is now represented, and represented well, in S&WC. Only junk like the Blackmoor hit location tables has rightly been left on the cutting room floor.

With these upgrades in place, S&WC at last fully lives up to its title, being an impressively complete fantasy RPG condensed into a mere 144 pages. It encompasses nine character classes (assassin, cleric, druid, fighter, magic-user, monk, paladin, ranger, thief), five ancestries (dwarf, elf, half-elf, halfling, human), roughly 200 spells, 160 monsters and just as many magic items, procedures for dungeon and wilderness creation, hirelings and henchmen, stronghold building, naval, aerial, mass, and siege combat, and more; everything needed to run any type of adventure for characters of any level. The book's habit of presenting multiple rules options for things like saving throws (the original five categories or the popular "single save" approach unique to S&W?), armor class (ascending or descending?), and initiative (a total of four distinct systems!) makes this overall brevity all the more impressive. Of all the official (A)D&D versions ever released, I'm only aware of one, the 1991 D&D Rules Cyclopedia, that aspired to cover so much ground within a single set of covers. The comparatively focused S&WC manages to do it in less than half the page count, however, and never gets itself bogged down in iffy design cul-de-sacs (general skills, weapon mastery) and reams of unnecessary math (War Machine) like the sprawling Cyclopedia does at its worst. Its design is a simultaneous triumph of scope and economy.

Of course, I'd be remiss if I didn't offer any caveat or criticism. I may be a fan, but I can still acknowledge that the stark simplicity and heavy emphasis on competent, confident GM rulings inherent to OD&D (and hence to S&WC) won't appeal to everyone. Packing all the above-mentioned gaming content into such a slim volume doesn't permit much in the way of digression and handholding. To illustrate that, here's S&WC's description of the infamously tricky Polymorph Self spell in its entirety: "The caster assumes the form of any object or creature, gaining the new form’s attributes (the use of wings, for example), but not its hit points or combat abilities. The Referee might allow the benefit of the new form’s armor class if it is due to heavily armored skin. A great deal of the spell’s effect is left to the Referee to decide." That's all. 63 words spread out over three sentences, and two of those sentences essentially boil down to "figure it out yourself." That's around a third of the explanation AD&D provided and a quarter of what you get in the current (5th) edition of D&D. Hell, the 3rd edition devoted over 700 words to this spell alone. Or perhaps you want to know how much damage falling into a thirty foot-deep pit will cause? Too bad, because S&WC won't tell you. For "rules lawyer" players and GMs who take solace in always being able to crack open a book and be presented with The Answer, this sort of borderline free kriegsspiel roleplaying may not cut it. Whatever your feelings on them, "crunchier" RPGs certainly evolved for a reason. Gamer, know thyself. Some may also lament the lack of a true index, although I myself have found the table of contents entirely adequate for a work this length.

In conclusion, take it from someone with 30+ years of experience: This latest evolution of Swords & Wizardry is easily the best yet; a standout in the crowded retro-clone field and a legitimate contender for the honor of greatest "D&D" rule book ever devised, despite the fact that it can't legally use the name. As a slick distillation of everything that was great about the game from its inception, it demands serious consideration from anyone intent on running an old-school campaign today.

Film Review: Game of the Year

That's right, it's my first ever film review!

You guys have Kevin Lehnert to thank for this one. He's Director of Marketing over at 88mm Productions and was recently kind enough to send me a complimentary DVD copy of their 2009 movie Game of the Year. So full disclosure: A freebie is what prompted this review. I'm still going to try to be as fair as I can manage, though, as I have in similar reviews for complimentary rulebooks and such both on this blog and at former haunt RPG.Net.

I feel the most useful place to start is by explaining that Game of the Year (GotY, hereafter) is, in essence, a "mockumentary" in the style of Rob Reiner's 1984 classic This Is Spinal Tap, as well as that film's own star Christopher Guest's subsequent similar series of works (Waiting for Guffman, Best of Show, etc). This means that GotY is meant to depict real people being followed around and recorded by a documentary film crew. These sorts of films are actually scripted, of course, but the "raw" seeming camera work and heavy use of improvised dialog encourages the audience to suspend their disbelief on that score.

GotY story centers around DM Richard and his motley crew of D&D gamers as they prepare themselves for a do-or-die audition at a local gaming convention. The audition is for a group spot on the titular "Game of the Year", a reality television show where rival gaming groups compete for the singular prize of running a (fictional) established game company for an entire year.

It's here, in the basic premise, that GotY makes its first and gravest misstep for me. Here, in literally the first minute or two of the movie, the idea of a big budget, televised reality show in the vein of Survivor or The Amazing Race centered around D&D is a huge blow to the realistic atmosphere that the filmmakers spend the entire rest of the production laboring, largely with great success, to achieve. Maybe if reality television existed in the D&D fad days of the early 1980s, sure. But in the 21st century? I swallowed the conceit and pressed on, but it went down hard indeed.

This is a pity, because by the time the credits rolled, I really was quite taken with GotY. Why? Well, one thing that I was on the lookout for before I even pressed play was the lazy overuse of cliche. And my heart did sink a bit when the main characters are introduced playing in...a dingy basement. Are basements really that popular for gaming? Over twenty years now, and I've never rolled dice in one.

Anyway, I digress. Despite that disconcerting start, the cliche beast is kept on a mercifully short leash throughout. There is a bit midway where a (gasp!) girl at the table causes some predictable awkward lust and inter-group strife, but that's really about it. In fact, most of the cliches on display in GotY have more to do with gamers' stereotypes about each other rather than anything outsiders would recognize: John is the solid, man's man military enthusiast into 1970s chit wargames and kicking ass while taking names. Billy is the ADD-afflicted goofball loony who just wants to have fun. "Good" DM Richard's pompous foil Gary Elmore (tee hee!) is an archetypal all talk, no action frustrated novelist/thespian, more interested in telling his epic stories as floridly as possible than in getting any actual gaming done.

In fact, GotY is at its funniest when it's operating in this mode. The scene where no-nonsense John and comic relief Billy find themselves sitting in on a new game where the anal-retentive tyrant DM has elaborate rules governing time limits for combat actions, out-of-character speech, etc, had me practically rolling on the floor. Although I imagine that non-gamers might not have been down there with me. This is definitely a film with a very specific target audience that it homes in on rather single-mindedly.

Thankfully, writer/director/cast member Chris Grega also took care to give the main characters depth beyond their stock types. John also has a troubled marriage, for example, and Gary blames Richard for ruining his life by stealing both his girlfriend and his game ideas in the past. This prevents the characterization and humor from being stunted at a corny "live action Knights of the Dinner Table" level.

How's the actual gaming in GotY? The mechanics are what I like to call "pleasantly vague." Other than a few things like initiative and clerics, there's not much to indicate what flavor of D&D rules are being used at the table. Some 3E rulebooks are glimpsed, but at the same time the referees seem to freely alternate between using DM screens from AD&D 1E, AD&D 2E, Basic D&D, and WotC editions. This is really for the best, I feel. Excessive jargon would be a pointless way to pander to the audience that would detract from the story. And while the game mechanics and such are never the focus specifically, the filmmakers still found plenty of more subtle ways to demonstrate to the target audience that they know their stuff. Characters cleverly sport surnames like Dee, Mohan, Otus, and Martek. Gary Gygax, Dave Arneson, and Steve Jackson are referenced outright, but overall these are restrained, classy tips of the hat to the grognards out there.

Do Richard and company actually win a spot on the television show? I'm not about to spoil things here, folks, but I will say that the ending is what really made GotY a winner for me. Bittersweet, heartfelt, and fundamentally true-to-life are not terms I thought I'd wind up associating with a film that started off with a premise as dodgy as this one's, but there you go. The aforementioned above-average amount of effort put into the characterization (given the often lazily-handled subject matter) really does pay off when it counts most.

Is GotY really the best gaming movie ever made? By the end, I was convinced. Joke all you want about the bar being set low, but this is an indie comedy that has solid writing, believable acting, real heart, and also happens to be about tabletop RPG gamers. That combination is pretty unprecedented and, frankly, impressive.

If you need numbers, have a 4/5. See this one if you can.