The Actual Elusive Shift

The effects of conventional play assumptions on the language of RPGs

Because conventional play is the pervasive norm, analyzing it comes with a special problem: the language and terminology¹ surrounding RPG discussions have been molded to fit its form over time. As its assumptions became more entrenched, the concepts they rely upon and the effects they foster and support became so deeply buried that they congealed into unspoken premises persisting through silent assent on the part of participants.

To elevate this claim above mere assertion requires a convincing body of evidence. First, we must concretely establish that a broad terminological shift happened. Second, it is necessary to demonstrate an alternative vantage point from which to draw relevant distinctions.

With AD&D, we can accomplish both at once.

Frame of Reference

Advanced Dungeons & Dragons (AD&D) has been an unrelenting force, refusing to shed relevance even entering the fifth decade of its reign as the king of RPGs. Because it became a complete set of books in 1979, it serves as a time capsule whose use of language and deployment of terminology can be studied for our exact purpose.

A Note on “Adventures”

The text of the AD&D Players Handbook (PHB) places a particular focus on the term adventure throughout.

Consider today’s common deployment of the term session, meaning something like “a discrete gathering of players (and the DM) devoted to an activity in the campaign involving their characters.” Across the entirety of the PHB, the term session is only used one time—in the introductory section of the book where we are given a broad overview of what to expect when playing in a game:

(PHB, pg. 7)

[AD&D gameplay] is an ongoing campaign, with each playing session related to the next by results and participant characters who go from episode to episode.

On the same page, Gygax refers to the “session” concept in two other distinct ways:

• the uncommon and astonishingly obtuse phrase “from playing to playing” which (from context) is conveying the same meaning that “from session to session” would today

• an indirect reference to sessions taking place on a night: “… [a campaign thread will be explored] one night, while on the next, [a geographically and causally independent campaign thread will be explored].”

However, in the remainder of the text, the concept of a session is rarely directly invoked. Instead, Gygax leans on a character-centric perspective, preferring to describe everything in terms of what player-controlled characters experience. These characters are “adventurers,” and their in-gameworld schemes are “adventures.” Because of this framing, we commonly observe a rough conflation in the text between “adventure”—i.e. the activity pursued by characters in the gameworld—and the session that implicitly is required to run it.

Successful Adventures

In the space just before the Appendices at the back of the AD&D Players Handbook lies a humble section called “Successful Adventures.”

The situation is likely to change in the coming years, but as of the time of this writing (Spring 2026), it is a conservative estimate that perhaps 97 in every 100 RPG hobbyists would completely misinterpret the advice offered in this section.

(PHB, pg. 107)

The most common form of ADVANCED DUNGEONS & DRAGONS play is the underground adventure, whether in dungeons, cave complexes, temple mazes and labyrinths, or whatever. The main thrust of this section will logically aim at improving play in just those sorts of settings. The outdoor and city adventure will be touched on thereafter. …

For the sake of clarity, we note this soft conflation between “session” and “adventure.”

• “The most common form of [AD&D] play …”: player perspective

• “… is the underground adventure…”: character perspective

Essentially, when players are wanting to explore “dungeons, cave complexes, temple mazes and labyrinths”, these activities imply a session of play. Gygax, then, is talking not only about the success of the characters in the gameworld but also of the success of the players during (and leading up to) the session.

The paragraph continues with the ambiguous usage of game, meaning “session,” as Gygax completes a coherent block of advice:

… Now assume that a game is scheduled tomorrow, and you are going to get ready for it well in advance so as to have as much actual playing time as possible — no sense in spending precious adventuring minutes with the mundane preparations common to the game. [A]

First get in touch with all those who will be included in the adventure, or if all are not available, at least talk to the better players so that you will be able to set an objective for the adventure. Whether the purpose is so simple as to discover a flight of stairs to the next lowest unexplored level or so difficult as to find and destroy an altar to an alien god, some firm objective should be established and then adhered to as strongly as possible. Note, however, that inflexibility or foolish stubbornness is often fatal. More about that a bit later. [B]

Once the objective has been established, consider how well the party playing will suit the needs which it has engendered. Will the characters have the means of accomplishing the goal? Is it well-balanced, so that it can cope with typical problems expected in the fullfillment of the objective? Will it be necessary to find mercenary non-player characters or hire men-at-arms in order to give the party the necessary muscle? Is any special equipment needed? When agreement regarding these and any similar questions has been reached, each participant must ready his or her character, but preparations must be made with the welfare of the whole group in mind. [C]

Modern Interpretation

Let’s examine this block of advice—perhaps giving away the game a bit early—from the perspective of the average RPG hobbyist in the spring of 2026.

Gygax says, in [A], to “get ready for [the session] well in advance” to retain “as much actual playing time as possible”. After all, there is “no sense in spending precious adventuring minutes with the mundane preparations common to the game.”

Modern Interpretation: Get your session prep done—locations, NPCs, encounters (and perhaps things like plot developments etc.)—so that you don’t waste everyone’s precious time, which could be spent engaged in the actual gameplay.

Continuing on to [B], he advises “… get in touch with all those who will be included in the adventure … so that you will be able to set an objective.” This is such an important point that he repeats himself, saying “some firm objective should be established and then adhered to as strongly as possible.”

Modern Interpretation: The infamous “Talk To Your Players” refrain, easily found in a thousand youtube DM advice videos, is stated here. Gygax says to figure out what the players will be doing in the upcoming session and insist that this stated objective is adhered to. This advice works directly in concert with the previous advice to prepare for the session well in advance—we can optimize our preparations by knowing confidently what to prepare for.

To round off all this advice, Gygax says in [C] to “consider how well the party playing will suit the needs which it has engendered.” He provides specific questions the reader should answer:

• “Will the characters have the means of accomplishing the goal?”

• “Is [the party] well-balanced, so that it can cope with typical problems expected in the fullfillment of the objective?”

• “Will it be necessary to find mercenary non-player characters or hire men-at-arms in order to give the party the necessary muscle?”

• “Is any special equipment needed?”

Modern Interpretation: After having Talked To Your Players to establish the objective [B] so that you can do your session prep [A], you must ensure that the party is equipped with the tools, abilities, “necessary muscle” (i.e. they might need outside help!), and balanced configuration so that you can smoothly run them through your preparations without wasting time [A] or providing obstacles they are unable to overcome [C].

Of course, there’s a problem: not even a sliver of the modern interpretation is correct.

Rectified Interpretation

If every single point of the modern interpretation above is mistaken, then what is the true meaning of Gygax’s advice? Fortunately, there are more than enough clues—if we can snap out of modern assumptions momentarily—provided in and around these passages.

To state it plainly: this entire section (“Successful Adventures”) is directly addressing only the players, i.e. the table participants who are controlling the relevant adventurers—not the referee / DM. Each implied or explicit “you” and each mention of “we” is referring only to the players. Whenever the referee is mentioned, he is singled out in third-person:

• “[leave a will] so that the DM will not balk at arrangements made” [pg. 108]

• “Draw [party formations] out on paper (possibly your referee will require copies for reference)” [pg. 108]

• “[preparations minimize the time extracted from sessions, and y]our referee will certainly appreciate this, for his or her enjoyment comes from adventuring, not from waiting for a party to get their act together.” [pg. 108]

• etc.

To begin repairing our interpretation, we start with the opening paragraph:

(PHB, pg. 107)

SUCCESSFUL ADVENTURES

Few players are so skillful at fantasy role playing games as to not benefit from advice. Also, many readers will be new to this form, if not totally uninitiated. So what follows are some basic guidelines as to how good players approach the game, and as continued success tends towards even more achievement, those who play well might actually become great.

Gygax makes explicit that player skill is not only real and relevant, but that it is arrayed on a spectrum from (implicitly) bad to good to great. The advice that follows, he says, is meant to inform the reader how “good players approach the game,” with the hope that they can become great players. This emphasis on player skill—even the admission of its existence—is already an enormous departure from the conventional approach to RPGs.

He continues, noting that the most common form of play is the “dungeon” delving session² and that the upcoming advice—the sections [A], [B], and [C] previously examined—pertains to these scenarios.

Gygax’s advice in [A] to “get ready for [the session] well in advance” to retain “as much actual playing time as possible” is directed at the players—not the DM! And what are the preparations being invoked?

In [B] Gygax continues, explaining how players should prepare for the session. It’s not Talk To Your Players, a directive aimed at game-runners; on the contrary, it is Put Your Heads Together. “First get in touch with all those who will be included in the adventure, or if all are not available, at least talk to the better players so that you will be able to set an objective for the adventure.” Talk to the skilled players to establish an objective for the adventure. This perspective clarifies and harmonizes his included examples of “discover a flight of stairs to the next [unexplored level]” and “find and destroy an altar to an alien god”.

In [C], Gygax is still continuing along the same straight line of thinking. Why do we need to establish a firm objective amongst ourselves, as a party of players? It’s so that we can evaluate where we stand with respect to the oncoming challenges. We should compare character strengths and shore up weaknesses and account for necessities by procuring the right equipment and, if necessary, additional manpower. The “mundane preparations common to the game” mentioned in [A] are part of this process too: AD&D is a rule system where food, water, and treasure must be hauled.

Obviously, if we waited until the session began to work out an objective, all these extra details would need to be accounted for during our “precious adventuring minutes” as warned against in [A].

Trying to read [C] as if Gygax is addressing the DM requires some non-trivial mental contortions. Is the DM finding mercenary NPCs to balance out his players’ clown-town party composition? Will he beg and plead with them to buy the right equipment to prepare for the predictable/common challenges they are sure to face?

Nevertheless, the pervasive assumptions of conventional play have gathered so much momentum that it becomes easy to glide smoothly over what should be a tire-bursting contradiction. Applying careful reading, the evidence mounts against the validity of these assumptions as Gygax continues.

(still pg. 107)

Co-operation amongst party members is a major key to success, particularly when the characters are relatively low-level. Later, when players have characters of 9th, 10th, or even higher level it will be a slightly different matter, for then some adventures will be with but one or two player characters participating, and the balance of the group will be made up of henchmen whose general co-operation is relatively assured. But to gain the upper levels, it is essential that a character survive, and survival at lower levels is usually dependent upon group action and team spirit. Co-operation must begin when the party prepares for the adventure and continue through safe return to base and division of spoils — including the special treatment required for any unfortunate characters cursed, diseased, maimed, or killed.

There is a lot of material here for the conventional assumptions to latch onto:

Co-operation amongst party members is a major key to success, particularly when the characters are relatively low-level. … to gain the upper levels, it is essential that a character survive, and survival at lower levels is usually dependent upon group action and team spirit. Co-operation must begin when the party prepares for the adventure and continue through safe return to base and division of spoils — including the special treatment required for any unfortunate characters cursed, diseased, maimed, or killed.

Eliding the uncomfortable part of the passage, it can be read as a formalization and justification (and even glorification) of Getalong Gang play—a small cluster of forever-allies characters played by the same team of players session after session. But if we focus on that missing piece, a completely different picture emerges:

Later, when players have characters of 9th, 10th, or even higher level it will be a slightly different matter, for then some adventures will be with but one or two player characters participating, and the balance of the group will be made up of henchmen whose general co-operation is relatively assured.

To give context to his advice, Gygax explains why cooperation is the “major key to success” for low-level characters—those characters lack the ability to pursue their in-game goals independently. The “forced” cooperation between players is not some schema deriving from social dynamics at the table but is instead a necessary strategy to achieve the levels of in-game power and influence necessary for each character to carve his own path—even alone, if need be. At low levels, we are more likely to find characters willing to cooperate with us for an adventure, whereas at higher levels we will be more reliant on henchmen since the schemes and plans of other PCs will not necessarily align with our own.

This brings us to the next major assumption of conventional play which is in contradiction with Gygax’s presumptions and advice.

The Missing Mono-Party

This vision of a campaign as the parallel paths of (ultimately) independent characters is present and made clear even in the limited context of Gygax advising us on how to approach “dungeon” adventures. Note that, in the advice given under Successful Adventures, low-level characters (and, implicitly, characters controlled by inexperienced players) are expected to fail and must combine their forces out of necessity. By contrast, high-level characters are expected to succeed even in parties consisting mostly of henchmen—for why would they otherwise form such expeditions if failure was the expected result? The advice given is grounded in a raw, mechanical conceptualization of the difficulty of “dungeon” adventuring.

The implication that character paths will diverge as higher levels are achieved is in plain contradiction to conventional assumptions of a mono-party that has a persistent spotlight³ upon its activities.

Alignment Heterogeneity

Even after 40 years of “roleplaying,” designers and users of conventional play games still cannot address fundamental questions about the interpretation or validity of mixed character alignments in a party. This is almost certainly because conventional play presumes that the party is instead The Party—an inseparable band of adventurers glued together by bonds forged outside their gameworld; in such an environment, there is no room for genuine misalignment!

But, following in perfect sync with the Braunstein conceptualization of RPGs—“multiple independent actors operating in conflict under a fog of war”—Gary Gygax (unsurprisingly, at this point) has already offered the definitive approach to these questions:

(PHB, pg. 109)
(Successful Adventures, continued)

Co-operation assumes mutual trust and confidence, and this is enhanced when members are certain that the survivors will do their best to see that any slain character is carried forth from the dungeon to be resurrected if at all possible. All members of the expedition should be ready and willing to part with any goods, money, and magic items in order to save lives. Failing that, each should be willing to fight to the death to assure the survival and success of the party. This will happen when mutual trust exists. …

Gygax discusses the wider implications of defection vs. cooperation in adventure scenarios. Note how the advice is framed from the character perspective—not the player perspective! A party is assembled only on the framework of mutual trust between characters. Would our character really be willing to adventure with someone who wasn’t “ready and willing to part with [material gains]” in order to save lives? How about someone who was not “willing to fight to the death to assure the survival and success of the party”? The mutual-trust framework reaches out into a character’s history, his behavior, his apparent motivations, and on his general reputation—this basis cuts deep, and it is the foundation of all adventuring.

But what about troublemakers?

… What about evil alignment? selfish neutrals? unco-operative players?

Intelligent players of evil alignment will certainly be ready to help in order to further their own ends. This is not to say that they will be chummy with those of good alignment, but on a single expedition basis it is possible to arrange situations where they are very likely to desire to be helpful in order to benefit themselves and their cause. …

It is clear from this observation that Gygax understands the asymptotic equilibria of dynamic diplomacy between characters. The intelligent players—and note how he says “intelligent players” rather than “characters”—controlling evil-aligned characters will understand that it is in their self-serving characters’ interest to carry out all the responsibilities of an expedition in good faith and for good report; after all, a single ill report on their adventuring behavior could close the only door they might have to achieving personal power and wealth.

… Generally evil characters, particularly chaotic evil ones, are prone to be troublesome and hurtful to the party. They should accordingly be shunned when possible. Selfish neutrals are similar to evil characters, but their price is usually easier to meet, and it is therefore easier to integrate them into an expedition which will depend on co-operation for success. …

Gygax directly advises that evil characters “should accordingly be shunned when possible” because of their tendency to harm the party’s quality or degree of success on adventures. This implies a great many things about roleplaying an evil character, not the least of which is the necessity of hiding one’s evil motives and nature from prospective parties—practically the inverse of the rebelliously provocative excesses on display from evil characters in the conventional mono-party.

He leaves us with one final unasked-for (but crucial) advisory on dungeon adventures:

… The character of good alignment who is basically unco-operative — often acting as an evil or (selfish) neutral would — is another matter, for such players usually join under the pretense of being helpful and willing to act in the best interest of the party. Undoubtedly the best way to take care of such players is to expel them from the group as soon as circumstances permit. Do this as often as is necessary to either change the player’s mind about co-operation, or until he or she becomes tired of having their characters consigned to oblivion because of their attitude.

“Undoubtedly the best way to [deal with selfish, uncooperative players who should be roleplaying good-aligned characters] is to expel them from the group as soon as circumstances permit.” The character vs. player distinction practically jumps out of the page here!

Every element of Gygax’s advice on party dynamics is entirely incommensurable with conventional play assumptions. His framing of potential issues—and the solutions to those issues—represents a complete denial of the mono-party, and the examples provided presume that each character is a participant in an organically divergent campaign world and operates under full-spectrum diplomacy and all its consequences.

A Fundamental Incompatibility

It should be no surprise that, having lasted for so long, the body of conventional play assumptions has surrounded itself with rhetorical and dialectical defenses such as stock answers to different families of questions. Using the first half of Successful Adventures, we showed how nearly effortless it was to map each piece of advice onto modern conventional presumptions. Beyond a mere point-by-point answer, we were able even to relate all the individual parts to one another to form a (seemingly) coherent conventional-play perspective.

But due to the sheer breadth of Gygax’s advice to aspiring players, we demonstrated also how easily that mapping crumbled, failing to harmonize the full range of implications.

The back-casting of modern meanings derived from conventional-play assumptions has undeniably changed the way people read the old RPG rulesets. It has gotten to the point where sophisticated actors can (and have) cited passages, mechanics, and even whole sections of the old books in an attempt to legitimize—or, even more dishonest, canonize—their approach to the game.

Under all this strain of forced interpretations and motivated reasoning, the individual systems of AD&D sometimes do not escape unscathed. Gygax’s attempts at technical writing, though not meager by any measure, surrender often to malefactors with microscopes. However, in perhaps the least technical section of his book—in Successful Adventures, where he provides advice on how to approach the game—he sidesteps the typical fencing around terminology by means of a simple application of plain-language examples. He is not describing how to build his machine, nor detailing why he built it that way. Instead, he leans on his holistic vision and understanding of the game to provide ready-made conclusions, in the form of advice, to new players.

And in doing so, he has (unintentionally) revealed that the most important conventional-play assumptions are absent and that the Braunstein conceptualization of RPGs is required to understand the game as he envisioned.

Conventional play, however, is not so easily dismissed; it cannot be considered an illusion or ephemera. Even if we struggle to put it into words, it is very real in the sense that it has inertia. When you push it, it pushes back. When you approach it with intent, it recoils and resists—and in systematic ways which hint at a cognizable structure. When you fall into it, getting back out requires a surprising quantity of conceptual leverage.

But whatever it is—whether it is some coherent framework of play or a sophisticated patchwork of psychological funnels—it is not to be found in the pages of AD&D.

1. See On Terminology and RPGs for a focused examination of this problem.

2. Broadly, this is because most characters are low-level and incapable of acting with true independence, and their best chance of gaining levels and power is through dungeon delving.

3. See The Tyranny of the Spotlight Versus the Power of Multiple Independent Parties.