Souls objectively exist in D&D. They’re quantifiable, observable, and even consumable.

This turns the question of “soul” from a matter of abstract philosophy to absolute practicality; and one which is of particular importance to D&D adventurers, whether in the form of undead, raise dead spells, or interplanar adventures.

From this practical standpoint, there are several key questions:

• Where do souls come from?
• How can the souls of the living be interacted with?
• Where do souls go after you’re dead?
• And, given the answer to the previous question, what is the actual experience of being raised from the dead?

Over the past few decades, some of these questions have been given clear answers, others have been given partial answers, and some have been largely ignored.

A SOULFUL RETROSPECTIVE

Let’s start by taking a look at how the “soul” (and its disposition) in D&D have developed over the years.

Going back to the original edition of D&D in 1974, we will discover that souls are not explicitly discussed. However, there is the magic jar spell:

By means of this device the Magic-User houses his life force in some inanimate object (even a rock) and attempts to possess the body of another creature within 12” of his Magic Jar.

In Supplement III: Eldritch Wizardry (1976) we find the first explicit reference to a “soul” in a similar context:

Demon Princes maintain their vital essences in small containers – their souls, so to speak, are thus at once protected and yet vulnerable if some enterprising character should gain the amulet.

In the original AD&D Player’s Handbook (1978) these became known as “soul objects” and the exorcise spell could be used to force souls within those objects to inhabit the nearest material body. (As a random bit of lore, in the Dungeon Masters Guide (1979) we are told that jet is a suitable material for making soul objects.)

These references may seem quite slight, but they actually tell us several important things: First, the soul objectively exists and, although it exists within a mortal body, it is separate from that body. Furthermore, magic can be used to control and even physically move a soul.

This theme is developed through the trap the soul spell, which is “similar to magic jar, except that the trap the soul spell forces the subject creature’s life force (and its material body, if any) into a special prison magicked by the spell caster.” This is referred to as a “soul prison,” and notably implies that souls can exist entirely separate from any material form or container (“material body, if any”).

Meanwhile, the mind blank spell and amulets of life protection will guard their users against trap the soul, fleshing out the vision of a magical struggle over souls. The Void card from the Deck of Many Things indicates that the “body functions, but soul is trapped elsewhere,” revealing that animate bodies can continue to function in a soulless state. Undead are similarly defined as “soulless monsters.”

One last mention of the soul in the Dungeon Master’s Guide indicates that an artifact or relic can be destroyed by causing “it to be seared by the odious flames of Geryon’s destroyed soul.” From this we learn that souls are not necessarily eternal; they can be destroyed.

These scant references to the soul, you may note, do not include any of the various magical spells and effects which can return the dead to life. These spells do not, in fact, discuss the soul’s role in this. The closest we get to such a discussion is the reincarnate spell, which doesn’t explicitly mentions souls, but does say:

Druids have the capability of bringing back the dead in another body if death occurred no more than a week before the casting of the spell.

The new body is created randomly by the spell, but the key insight in all this is that a person’s entire personality and memories are housed in their soul. Who you are as a person? That is absolutely and completely your soul. Your body is just a meat shell that houses it.

Similar material along these lines can be found in the early monster books. (For example, in the Monster Manual II (1983) nereids have shawls which contain their souls.) But we also find that phantoms are “soulless shells left behind,” which means that even ghost-type undead are soulless, not disembodied souls, and also reminds us that undead often retain the memories and (often warped) personalities of their mortal selves, even though the soul is gone.

So is there also some form of “memory” in the flesh that is separate from the soul? As a non-undead example, shades have “traded their souls or spirits for the essence of shadowstuff,” which is metaphysically fascinating: Did the soul get displaced? Destroyed? Transformed? It’s rather vague.

A TANGENT ABOUT LICHES

In terms of monsters, liches are particularly interesting when it comes to analyzing souls.

These days, the more or less defining trait of a lich is that they have a phylactery, which houses their soul, and they can only be permanently killed if their phylactery is destroyed. But this was not originally the case.

When liches first appeared in Supplement I: Greyhawk (1975) they didn’t have phylacteries at all, and this appears to have remained true in Basic D&D.

In AD&D, the Monster Manual (1977) says, “The lich passes from a state of humanity to a non-human, non-living existence through force of will. It retains this status by certain conjurations, enchantments, and a phylactery.”

But the exact function of the phylactery is not detailed and no mention of it holding the lich’s soul (or preserving their immortality until its destruction) is made. The Dungeon Masters Guide actually defines a “phylactery” as “an arm wrapping with a container holding religious writings, thus a form of amulet or charm,” and there are other phylacteries given in the list of magical items: A phylactery of faithfulness will alert the wearer of actions that would violate its alignment; a phylactery of long years slows the aging process; and a phylactery of monstrous attention is a cursed item which draws supernatural creatures to its wearer.

I’m not completely certain when our modern understanding of the lich’s phylactery was introduced, although it appears as such in the 2^nd Edition Monstrous Compendium (1989).

In the Monster Manual II, the lore of the lich is also developed into the demilich:

[The lich] has taken the steps necessary to preserve its life force after death. Ultimately, even the undead life force of a lich begins to wane. Over centuries the lich form decays, and the evil soul roams strange planes unknown to even the wisest sages. This remaining soul is a demilich.

Note that this means that a lich, unlike other forms of 1^st Edition undead, has a soul.

The demilich also has a trap the soul ability, but it can notably use those souls as fuel to create magical effects. This also permanently destroys the soul. (We’ve seen a brief reference to souls being destroyed before, but here we learn that it can be done through magical means and also that souls can be used as a resource.)

In the Fiend Folio (1981) there are also skeleton warriors, which were “forced into a lich-like state ages ago by a powerful and evil demi-god who trapped each of their souls in a golden circlet. A skeleton warrior’s sole reason for remaining on this plane is to search for and regain the circlet which contains its soul.”

A PLANAR COSMOLOGY

Other references in the early monster books begin to hint at what happens to a soul after death. For example, in the Monster Manual “larvae are the most selfishly evil of all souls who sink to lower planes after death” and quasits are “larva turned into a minor demon form.” We also learn that quasits who are deemed worthy can advance into type I or II demons.

One of the ways in which quasits can prove their worth is by stealing souls from the Material Plane. Similar motivations are ascribed to Erinyes (who are sent forth to “garner more souls”) and, from the Fiend Folio, styx fiends (who search for souls to take back to Geryon).

Devils have a similar progression, with lowly lemures potentially advancing to become spectres or wraiths. (This would later shift to the lemures becoming higher forms of devils.)

Demons are often described as stealing souls by murdering them, but for devils “it also typically requires a contract for the soul of the creature commanding the infernal power to obey.” Notably, chaotic evil quasits are described as targeting lawful evil mortals for destruction, stealing souls which would otherwise be claimed by the devils.

From this we learn that in the Outer Planes there is some form of competition over mortal souls.

Nor is this limited to demons and devils. From the Manual of the Planes we learn that lanterns are “the lowest form of archons. They are the spirits of the newly dead (the equivalents of larvae in the lower planes).”

But what are the Outer Planes?

In July 1977, Gary Gygax published the article “Concepts of Spatial, Temporal, and Physical Relationships in D&D” in Dragon #8. No information is given in this article about souls (either their movements or their final fate), but it’s significant because it lays out a rudimentary version of the Great Wheel cosmology for the first time.

For those unfamiliar with the Great Wheel cosmology, here’s the quick version:

• The mortal world is the Prime Material Plane. (There are generally understood to be an infinite number of these existing as parallel realities.)
• The Prime Material Plane is surrounded by the Ethereal Plane and various elemental planes, collectively known as the Inner Planes.
• The Inner Planes are connected, via the Astral Plane, to the Outer Planes.
• The Outer Planes are associated with the nine alignments – Lawful Good, Lawful Neutral, Lawful Evil, Neutral Good, Neutral, Neutral Evil, Chaotic Good, Chaotic Neutral, and Chaotic Evil. (Most of these planes are composed of multiple layers – for example, the Nine Hells have nine layers, one for each of the Hells – and there are usually a number of intermediary planes, too.)

In the AD&D Players Handbook, a revised version of this article with improved diagrams was included as “Appendix IV: The Known Planes of Existence.” It notably provided the definitive list of Inner and Outer Planes that would dominate D&D cosmology for most of its history.

The 1977 article also suggests that creatures which have immunity to non-magical weapons have the immunity because they simultaneously exist on multiple planes of existence and only weapons which similarly exist on multiple planes of existence can affect all their forms simultaneously. Some creatures exist not just on two different planes, but three or four (requiring +2 or +3 weapons, respectively). By similar logic, magical weapons can strike creatures on the Ethereal or Astral Planes because the weapon is co-linear with those planes. There’s also a suggestion that special materials (silver, cold iron, etc.) can also strike in both planes simultaneously (and I was struck by the idea that each such material could be associated with a specific plane).

This idea was dropped, but I think it’s rather interesting. It probably has a minimal impact on the subject of souls, although if we were to combine it with the concept that the soul and body are separable, we could certainly postulate that Outer Planar creatures who are summoned to the Material Plane only appear there in the form of their physical body; with their soul remaining safely in the Outer Planes. We could further refine this idea by suggesting that the magical weapons do not actually strike all the way to the Outer Planes, but rather can affect the connection between the Outer Planar entity’s manifestation and their soul (something akin to the silver cord which connects mortal souls to their bodies when traveling through the Astral Plane).

This would provide a more detailed metaphysical principle for why, as described in Deities & Demi-Gods (1980), gods, demons, and so forth cannot be permanently slain on the Material Plane:

If any servant or minion of a deity (or even the deity itself) is slain on its home plane, that being is absolutely and irrevocably dead. No power in the multiverse can restore that being, including action by other deities. In one’s own plane a being is figuratively backed into a corner, with nowhere for the spirit to go upon death.

Go to Part 2: The Final Frontier

There are two places where tracks (along with the associated concept of tracking) can be found in the Alexandrian Hexcrawl: First, there is the Tracker watch action, in which characters can actively search for and follow tracks.

Second, the encounter system is designed to generate random encounters, lairs, and tracks.

Random encounters provide immediate obstacles and interludes while traveling, lairs spontaneously generate new locations in the hexcrawl (organically building up material along well-traveled routes as the campaign develops), and tracks are a trail that can be followed to a point of interest.

Thinking in terms of “tracks” seem to commonly conjure up the image of hoof prints in the sod, but we shouldn’t limit ourselves to that. In the wilderness exploration of the hexcrawl that sort of physical spoor is most likely very common, but the concept of “tracks” can really be generalized to “clue.”

For example, if we generated a result of “tracks” for bandits, that might mean footprints in the forest. But it could just as easily include a merchant caravan in panicked disarray due to their latest highway robbery; the dead body of a bandit that was critically wounded and abandoned; a bolt-hole containing documents implicating the mayor of a local village in collusion with the bandits; and so forth.

TYPES OF TRACKS

Spoor: What can be thought of as the “classic” tracks we commonly think of. This includes both physical prints and scents (particularly if you have a hound for a familiar or live life as a werewolf). Following a spoor path usually also means looking for and encountering other signs (like broken foliage) that are described below.

Spoor paths can include trails, which are paths used frequently repeatedly by a create. The common image here is the worn rut of a deer or fox path. Runs are similar to trails, but are less frequently used.

Subsurface trails are tunnels. In the real world, trackers frequently look for where small tunnels re-emerge (and will use the diameter of tunnels to identify creatures). In a fantasy world, it’s quite possible the tunnel will be more than large enough for adventurers to follow the spoor path right inside. (Tunnels created by one creature may also be used by other creatures.)

Sounds: The howl of a wolf, the roar of a dragon, the screech of a griffon, or the distant sound of a fireball exploding. Sounds emanating from nearby can be used as an encounter trigger, but distant sounds can (often ominously) indicate the presence (and direction) of creatures.

Smells: The zombie stench of putrefacting flesh, the lingering ozone odor of a beholder’s rays, the sulfurous stench of a hell hound, or the distinctive musk of more mundane creatures can linger in the air long after they have passed.

Moulting: Anything shed by a creature, such as feathers and fur. This can also include skin (like a snake) or an exoskeleton (like a crab, spider, or insect). Some lizards will actually lose their entire tails (a process known as “caudal autotomy”) in order to evade predators, and you could imagine similarly fantastical abilities. Perhaps there are creatures which, when threatened, will spontaneously generate a cloned copy of their “corpse” and leave it behind to slowly decompose into ectoplasmic residue.

Other creatures use parts of their bodies as weapons, which could be left behind in their victims or embedded in the environment, like the spines of a barbed devil being left in a tree.

On a similar theme, there might be body parts lost by animals due to hazard rather than nature (like a dismembered limb or pool of blood).

Food: This might include food that’s been stored (whether squirrels hiding nuts or a cache of the local rangers), but is probably more commonly partially consumed meals. This can include carcasses (including human corpses depending on which predators are active in the area), but also plants or area of foliage which have been grazed by herbivores.

Also consider pellets, which are masses regurgitated by hawks and the like. These include trace remnants of food, but are primarily made up of indigestible remnants from their meals (bones, exoskeletons, fur, feathers, bills, teeth, etc.).

Fewmets: The other end of the digestive track, specifically scat and excrement. Urine is also an option. Don’t be afraid to embrace the fantastical here, ranging from the well-known scale of triceratops poop to, say, the scorching phosphorescence of hell hound pee.

Kill Sites: This includes carcasses, but may just be signs (like blood spatter) left from a kill which a predator later dragged from the site (or consumed whole). This category is also worth calling out specifically because far more dramatic kill sites are frequently left by intelligent creatures (victims of goblin raiders or the rotting corpses left by poachers).

Glyphs: Intentional markings left by intelligent creatures. These might include navigational signs carved into trees, strange runic carvings, odd fetish sculptures, demonic graffiti, or simply a discarded note.

Sleeping Areas: Many sleeping areas will actually be generated as lairs, but there are also transit beds and lays, which are used as less frequent or irregular resting areas. For animals, this often takes the form of crushed vegetation. Intelligent creatures may leave a wide variety of signs (remnants of a campfire, a latrine, discarded food remnants, miscellaneous refuse, etc.).

Marring: The activities of beasts and monsters will often damage or leave their mark on the natural environment. Rubs are produced by an animal rubbing against trees or rocks. Gnaws and chews can give clear indication of the size of a creature’s teeth. (You might similarly find a place where intelligent creatures were practicing with their weapons or using a machete to chop through thick overgrowth.) Scratchings can be both intentional (sharpening your claws or digging for grubs) and unintentional (signs left from climbing or scampering over terrain).

In the realm of fantasy we might add to this things like burns (fire or acid), phase marks (distinct traces left by incorporeal creatures passing through physical objects), ectoplasm, and the like.

Tip: When imagining tracks and other signs, don’t get fixated on the ground. Remember verticality! In the real world, woodpeckers drill in trees above your head. In fantasy, bloated stirges can leave smears of blood up there, too.

SCALE OF TRACKS

Something else to consider is that tracks can vary from the obvious to the almost impossibly obscure. You can use this to provide varied flavor to tracking sequences, or to reward particularly good Wisdom (Perception) or Wisdom (Survival) checks.

Large scale tracks are significant and obvious. You might not automatically notice them, but even untrained people will likely recognize clear pawprints in mud, well-worn trails, significant damage to foliage, big animal carcasses, and the like.

Medium scale tracks are perhaps the most common (being left almost constantly by anyone or anything not intentionally covering their tracks), but are more difficult to notice or may only be significant to those with training. This can be stuff like gnaws and chews, pellets, and subtle vegetation breaks. It can also include more obvious tracks which have been obscured by the passage of time.

Small scale tracks usually require a sharp eye, special training, or both. They include many of the same signs as previous categories, but are subtler, sometimes as the result of extreme age. These are faint pawprints on hard ground, a handful of partially buried bones left from a months-old kill, or an orcish arrowhead buried deep in a tree trunk.

Ghost scale tracks almost certainly require training and experience to spot and interpret. They also frequently disappear quickly. This can include dullings (in which a creature passing through the morning dew leaves a “dull” area by brushing the water off foliage), shinings (later in the day, creatures walking through the grass press it down, revealing its shiny side), and other incredibly subtle tracks (like leaf depressions).

Back to 5E Hexcrawls

Go to Part 1

Rhodarin Press has published five supplements fleshing out Avernus, presenting a unique vision of the first layer of Hell. The first of these I stumbled across was Tyrants of the Purple City, a brief gazetteer describing an entire infernal city that lies somewhere along the Styx.

TYRANTS OF THE PURPLE CITY: The city is primarily presented through a number of distinct factions, each of which has a barebones quest/job that they want accomplished. This is an interesting lens for viewing the setting, but seems very practical, resulting in a lot of bang for your buck in a relatively short supplement.

The biggest shortcoming of Tyrants of the Purple City is the appalling proofreading. (Although the malapropism of “portuary ward” is almost delightfully evocative.) This is a problem which unfortunately persists throughout the Rhodarin supplements.

• Grade: B-

CHARON’S DROWNED SHRINE: Charon’s Drowned Shrine presents another Avernian city lying along the Styx, but this one was utterly destroyed in a flood forty years ago.

I will just never understand paragraphs like this:

Characters will most likely approach the city through the main course of the river. If they traverse the town to the Temple they should come across the districts in the order Outskirts, New Harbor, Eastern Gate, and then the Inner City, where the Temple resides, but through magic means or other strategies, they might be able to circumvent some wards.

First, there’s a map, so this is immediately obvious and the text is irrelevant. Second, stop trying to force non-linear environments into being linear, plotted experiences. Third, the phrase “if the PCs figure out how to do something, then they can do something” seems to be the #1 favorite way for RPG authors to write “I feel a need to write something, but have absolutely nothing to actually say.”

With that grumpy pet peeve out of the way, the biggest problem Charon’s Drowned Shrine has is that Orinxis, the ruined city, is… mundane. Absurdly so given that it is a CITY IN HELL ITSELF.

For example, the first keyed location is the Old Water Mill. Oooh… A mill churned by the cursed waters of the Styx itself! What alien and infernal purpose could it have been built for?

Grinding flour.

In similar fashion, the adventure just kind of blithely assumes that the PCs will be casually wading (and even diving!) into the waters of the Styx. The whole thing just feels like an adventure designed for the Material Plane that has been awkwardly copy-pasted to Avernus.

This one just doesn’t do it for me.

• Grade: D

ESCAPE FROM THE BLOOD FORTRESS: Originally written as a one-shot that could also be potentially used as part of a longer campaign to bring the PCs to Avernus for the first time (by having them kidnapped and then locked in an infernal prison from which they must escape), the author has hypothetically retrofitted Escape from the Blood Fortress to be used as part of a Descent Into Avernus campaign (although, as far as I can tell, no actual effort has been put towards achieving this goal).

The dungeon from which the PCs are escaping is painfully linear, which is made worse because options ARE given.. it just turns out they’re designed to murder you if you’re stupid enough to take them. For example:

Exiting through this exit is highly inadvisable, as it would probably mean a very complex encounter and almost certainly incarceration or death.

So go back to the Preapproved Exit™ you dummies.

Other design problems include encounters which are… vague. For example:

The denizens of this kitchen are mainly imps and quasits following the orders of Jakll, a blind and very old tiefling (non-combatant) with excellent cooking skills.

How many imps? How many quasits? No idea.

The aforementioned “gonna kill you dummies for picking the wrong door” encounter is similarly undefined. There’s just, like, so many devils out there!

Eventually the PCs follow the linear dungeon up high enough that they can look out a different window and see a huge cut-scene play out which is, despite them having no agency in it whatsoever, the “climactic moment in the adventure.” Oddly, the adventure then continues.

This one is a miss for me, too.

• Grade: F

THE ADMIRAL’S SUCCESS – A GUIDE ON SAILING THE STYX: This supplement consists of two parts. First, a set of alternative mechanics for handling exposure to the Styx designed to moderate the consequences of doing so.

Second, ten scripted random encounters designed for groups traveling along the Styx. These encounters are mostly serviceable, but also fairly pedestrian.

Unfortunately, several of them once again suffer from the “I forgot to put combat stats in this combat encounter” problem seen in Escape From Blood Fortress, which is fairly crippling in a product pretty much exclusively designed to provide ready-to-use encounters.

• Grade: D

VYSIANTER’S GUIDE TO THE RED WASTES OF AVERNUS: This is an example of what I mean when I talk about GMs lacking scenario structures. The author’s concept here is a blasted swath of Avernian wilderness called the Red Wastes, but the only scenario structure he knows is “linear plot.” And so the trackless waste through which the PCs are supposed to “roam” is presented as… a road.

With a sequence of programmed encounters that play out as the PCs walk down the road.

Once again, several of these encounters are vague, with some basically consisting of the author saying, “Here’s an idea for an encounter that might work. Maybe. I dunno.”

The typos also remain on point with this one, producing “bad-reliefs” and a temple to “Armodeus” (who I’m assuming is Asmodeus’ n’er-do-well cousin who’s also a frat boy).

The book is rounded out with the Lost Temple of Dak-Thrael. This dungeon is very atmospheric and evocatively packed with a ton of lore about the Queen of Lilies (who once ruled over the verdant paradise which preceded the Red Wastes). I find the key to be a little muddy – with boxed text that violates the “don’t tell the players what their characters are doing” rule and a presentation primarily based on theorizing about things the PCs might do (instead of just clearly describing the room so that I can run the game) – but it’s serviceable.

If you’re looking to add a little enigma to your version of Avernus – a reminder that its history stretches back through countless aeons beyond human comprehension and its wastes are filled with the lost palimpsest of unknowable epochs – Vysianter’s Guide to the Red Wastes might be worth snagging for Dak-Thrael alone (to which I’d give a grade of C-).

• Grade: D+

After stumbling into Tyrants of the Purple City and being pleasantly surprised, I was really excited to discover that Rhodarin Press had done a whole slate of Avernus-focused supplements. Unfortunately, I was pretty consistently disappointed by the rest of the line. With that being said, I see a lot of potential here, and will be keeping an eye on Rhodarin in the future to see how they develop.

One last thing to note, which may not have been immediately clear from the above, is that all of Rhodarin’s Avernus products are loosely bound together, forming a shared continuity. Each book stands on its own, but they’re also designed to work with each other.

Go to the Avernus Remix

Go to Part 1

As we discussed in Part 2, this system is designed to be modular, including a large number of advanced rules and supplemental tools that can be optionally used or discarded depending on your personal taste and the specific needs of a particular hexcrawl.

When you’ve decided which options you want to use, you’ll want to create a clean resolution sequence to make running the hexcrawl at the table silky smooth.

Below you’ll find three examples of such resolution sequences: one for an ultra-stripped down version of the rules, a basic version with all four modules implemented in a basic form, and a third loaded up with a lot (but not all) of the bells and whistles. (Not all of the optional rules are compatible with each other, so it’s not possible to have a version with everything we’ve laid out.)

BASIC HEXCRAWL PROCEDURE

During each watch, do the following:

1. DETERMINE THE DIRECTION OF TRAVEL. Ask the players what direction they want to travel.

2. ENCOUNTER CHECK. Roll 1d12. On a roll of 1, roll on the wandering encounter table. On a roll of 12, the location keyed to the hex has been encountered.

3. HEX PROGRESS. The characters move 12 miles per watch, or 6 miles in difficult terrain.

• It takes 12 miles of progress to exit one of the hex’s 3 far faces.
• It takes 6 miles of progress to exit one of the hex’s 2 near faces.
• Changing direction within a hex will result in the loss of 2 miles of progress.
• If characters double back, reduce progress until they exit the hex. If they leave the hex by any other route, it requires an additional 1d6-1 miles of progress to exit the hex.

LEAVING A HEX. Determine the new hex (based on direction of travel) and reset progress.

FULL HEXCRAWL PROCEDURE

1. DIRECTION & TRAVEL PACE.

• Determine the expedition’s navigator.
• Navigator determines intended direction and travel pace.

2. ENCOUNTER CHECK. Roll 1d12. On a roll of 12, the location keyed to the hex has been encountered. On a roll of 1:

• If in a border hex, check to see which encounter table should be used.
• Roll on the wandering encounter table.
• Check % Tracks.
• Check % Lair.
• If it’s a wandering encounter or lair, make an encounter reaction check.

3. WATCH ACTIONS. Resolve all watch actions.

4. ARE THEY LOST?

• If they are not following a landmark or trail, make a Navigation check.
• If they are lost, determine veer. If they are already lost, veer can be increased but not decreased.

5. HEX PROGRESS

• It takes 12 miles of progress to exit one of the hex’s 3 far faces.
• It takes 6 miles of progress to exit one of the hex’s 2 near faces.
• Changing direction within a hex will result in the loss of 2 miles of progress.
• If characters double back, reduce progress until they exit the hex. If they leave the hex by any other route, it requires an additional 1d6-1 miles of progress to exit the hex.

LEAVING A HEX:

• Determine new hex (by applying current veer to the expedition’s direction of travel).
• If they were lost, make a Navigation check to see if they recognize it. If they do, they can attempt to reorient. If they do not, veer accumulates. (Note: Using a compass automatically resets veer at the hex border even if they don’t recognize they were off course.)

ADVANCED HEXCRAWL PROCEDURE

1. DIRECTION & TRAVEL PACE.

• Determine the expedition’s navigator.
• Navigator determines intended direction and travel pace.
• Modify expedition’s speed by terrain and travel conditions.

2. ENCOUNTER CHECK. Roll 1d8. On a roll of 1, roll on the wandering encounter table. On a roll of 8, the location keyed to the hex has been encountered.

3. WATCH ACTIONS. Resolve all watch actions.

4. ARE THEY LOST?

• If they are not following a landmark or trail, make a Navigation check.
• If they are lost, determine veer. If they are already lost, veer can be increased but not decreased.

5. DETERMINE ACTUAL DISTANCE TRAVELED

• Roll 2d6+3 x 10% x Average Distance.
• Make a Wisdom (Survival) check to see if they accurately estimated their distance traveled.
• TIP: If their progress would cause them to leave a hex during a watch and that would cause their terrain type to change, calculate progress by hour. When they reach the hex edge, note how many hours are left. Then you can reference the new hex, calculate the new average distance, and continue marking progress.

6. HEX PROGRESS

• It takes 12 miles of progress to exit one of the hex’s 3 far faces.
• It takes 6 miles of progress to exit one of the hex’s 2 near faces.
• Changing direction within a hex will result in the loss of 2 miles of progress.
• If characters double back, reduce progress until they exit the hex. If they leave the hex by any other route, it requires an additional 1d6-1 miles of progress to exit the hex.

LEAVING A HEX:

• Determine new hex (by applying current veer to the expedition’s direction of travel).
• If they were lost, make a Navigation check to see if they recognize it. If they do, they can attempt to reorient. If they do not, veer accumulates. (Note: Using a compass automatically resets veer at the hex border even if they don’t recognize they were off course.)

Go to Part 7: Hex Exploration

I’ve previously talked about the original 1974 edition of D&D in Reactions to OD&D. I’ve also shared the house rules I used in my own OD&D campaign and later grouped those and some other rules together into the Blackmoor Player’s Reference. Today I want to share my guidelines for handling hirelings.

In OD&D, hirelings were presented as a far more central element of the game. Despite this, the rules and guidelines for running hirelings are scattered, incomplete, and often inconsistent. (This is not unusual for OD&D.) For my OD&D games, I gathered this material together and then added additional guidelines when I needed them.

AVAILABILITY

Roll 1d6 – 1d6 to determine the current number of hirelings available for hire.

For each hireling, roll 1d6 to determine their class:

Roll 1d6 – 1d6 to determine the hireling’s level (minimum 1).

Design Note: These guidelines were developed my OD&D open table, in which the PCs were based out of a small town. In larger communities you might want to increase the number of hirelings available. However, the practical effect was to create a small pool of hirelings who were in specific demand: In some sessions you wouldn’t be able to get a hireling at all, and when they were available you might find yourself in competition with other PCs for their services.

BASE HIRING COST

The base hiring cost for a hireling is 100 gp per level.

If the base hiring price is offered, roll 2d6 on the reaction table on page 12 of Volume 1: Men & Magic to determine the hireling’s response. (Grant a bonus for higher offers; penalize severely for paltry offers.)

DETERMINE LOYALTY SCORE

Roll 3d6 to determine the hireling’s Loyalty, modified by the employer’s Charisma and the reaction to the hiring offer (if they are enthusiastic).

Design Note: This table is an example of how OD&D put hirelings front and center, as it takes up as much space as all the other ability score-related mechanics combined. It also shows why Charisma wasn’t a dump stat in 1974.

DETERMINE MORALE

Roll 2d6 to determine the hireling’s base morale.

Their Loyalty score may modify their effective morale. (List morale adjustments separately – e.g., 8+2 instead of 10 – for clear bookkeeping in case Loyalty or employment changes.)

END OF EXPEDITION

At the end of an expedition, adjust each hireling’s Loyalty:

• Significant Injury/Death: -1 loyalty
• Share of treasure less than 25%: -1 loyalty
• Share of treasure less than 5%: -2 loyalty
• Share of treasure 2x base hiring cost: +1 loyalty
• Share of treasure 10x base hiring cost: +2 loyalty

Then make a morale check by rolling 2d6. Rolling above the hireling’s morale is a failure.

On a success, the hireling will continue adventuring with their employer.

On a failure, roll on the reaction table above, with the following effect:

• Attempts to Attack: Automatically leaves service.
• Hostile: Demands bonus equal to base hiring cost x 2.
• Uncertain: Demands bonus equal to base hiring cost.
• Accepts Offer: Demands bonus equal to half hiring cost.
• Enthusiastic: Treat as a success after all.

The base hiring cost is determined by the hireling’s current level (not necessarily what they were actually paid).

If a demanded bonus is not paid, the hireling leaves their employer’s service. Such hirelings are generally available for hire in the community where they left service.

Design Note: It is possible to simultaneously offer a hireling a share of the treasure less than 25% of the total received by the employer AND more than twice the hireling’s base hiring cost. These loyalty modifiers cancel out. Note that if a hireling has a loyalty of 19+, there is no chance of them leaving their employer’s service.

TIP: RUNNING HIRELINGS

These guidelines are designed to be used in concert with a morale system, which I heartily recommend employing for hirelings even if it is otherwise not used in your campaign.

In my campaign status document, I kept a list of all hirelings recording:

• Their name
• Current employer
• Loyalty
• Morale

And any other relevant notes.

This made it relatively easy to make the necessary upkeep checks and track their current loyalty and morale scores. Loyalty and morale scores, it should be noted, were kept secret from the players.

Generally speaking, hirelings were played by the player of the PC who employed them, with the rules for morale and loyalty granting them a sense of independence. Of course, you can also choose to run them yourself as the DM if that’s something you’re comfortable with, or you might employ something like the Sidekick on Your Left system.