The Origins of Grognardia

Toward an Introduction to the Blog

Not what I look like

People often ask me what inspired me to start Grognardia. The answer isn’t simple, because its roots go back further than you might expect.

Believe it or not, the story begins in 1999, when I first heard that Wizards of the Coast was releasing a new edition of Dungeons & Dragons. By that point, I had mostly left D&D behind. I’d grown weary of late Second Edition AD&D and, truth be told, of the game itself. That was no small thing, since D&D, in one version or another, had been at the heart of my roleplaying life since late 1979, when I first discovered RPGs. But by the mid-1990s, I was ready to move on.

And yet, when the announcement of Third Edition came, I couldn’t help but be intrigued. I wondered what the new caretakers of the game might do with it — and whether it might rekindle my own interest.

At the time, I was working steadily as a freelance RPG writer, contributing to all kinds of projects. One of my gigs was for Wizard magazine, which had started out covering collectible card games but had since broadened into a general-interest gaming and nerd culture magazine. Early on, I was assigned to write about the upcoming Third Edition. As part of that assignment, Wizards of the Coast sent me galley proofs of the Player’s Handbook, which was set to debut at GenCon that summer.

What I saw impressed me. When the book was released, I bought it immediately, followed by the Dungeon Master’s Guide and Monster Manual. Soon, I was running a 3e campaign with friends, many of whom, like me, hadn’t played D&D in years. To our delight, it was a blast.

My freelance opportunities grew along with the new edition, especially thanks to the Open Game License, which briefly felt like an incredible gift to the hobby. For a while, I was writing for multiple publishers, contributing to a wave of new material for D&D.

But the OGL had a darker side. The market was quickly oversaturated with products, many of them poorly conceived or rushed. That glut took a toll, not just on the industry, but on me personally. My enthusiasm for both 3e and freelance work started to fade. By the time my campaign ended, I found myself once again drifting away from D&D, thinking perhaps I was finished with it for good.

That’s when something unexpected happened: I heard about Castles & Crusades by Troll Lord Games. I can’t recall exactly where — probably a forum — but wherever it was, I was intrigued. Here was a game that used the framework of 3e but pared it down into something simpler, faster, and more in the spirit of AD&D First Edition in its rules, esthetics, and overall feel.

Curiosity got the better of me. In late spring or early summer of 2007, I bought the two C&C books then available and devoured them. Almost immediately, I began sketching out a campaign to run for my friends. I dove into the Troll Lord forums, peppering veterans with questions. One of them, after seeing the kinds of things I was asking, suggested that what I really wanted might not be Castles & Crusades at all but original Dungeons & Dragons. He even pointed me toward the ODD74 forums.

Now, I already owned a copy of OD&D — technically the TSR collector’s reprint from the late ’70s — but I’d never played it. Why would I? I had AD&D! But the posters on ODD74 were knowledgeable, enthusiastic, and welcoming. Through them, I began to see OD&D’s unique virtues. Before long, I was hooked, not just on its rules but on its history and the fascinating story of its creation, so much so, in fact, that I wanted to know more.

The ODD74 boards were — and still are — a treasure. I learned a great deal and met many wonderful people there. Some were starting personal projects inspired by OD&D, including blogs. Around the same time, I also read about plans for Fight On!, a fanzine dedicated not just to OD&D itself but to the wild, anything-goes spirit of the hobby’s earliest days.

Then, on March 4, 2008, Gary Gygax died. To call this an epochal event is no exaggeration. For a brief moment, D&D was in the news again — and in a positive light — as tributes to one of our hobby’s founders poured in from around the world. Gary and I had been corresponding intermittently by email for about a year before his death, so the news hit me harder than I expected. In his memory, I pulled out my copy of Volume 3 of OD&D and stocked a small dungeon I’d been tinkering with, “The Ruined Monastery.” It appeared in the very first issue of Fight On! and I’ve been tinkering with an expanded version ever since. Maybe one day I’ll finish it.

Three weeks later, I wrote the very first post on Grognardia. The rest, as they say, is history.