Early RPG Simplicity or Modern TTRPG Complexity?
Why did early RPGs succeed with just a few pages of rules, and what can modern game designers learn from this approach? – asked on Quora.com
I think one of the greatest lessons modern tabletop role-playing game designers can learn from the early days of the hobby is that a game doesn’t need complicated rules to produce complicated adventures. In fact, the relationship between the length of a rulebook and the complexity of the game itself is something I believe designers should examine much more carefully.
Gary Gygax and Dave Arneson, creators of Dungeons & Dragons collaborative storystelling game.
Consider the original Dungeons & Dragons, published in 1974 by Gary Gygax and Dave Arneson. It consisted of three relatively small booklets totaling approximately 112 pages. The 1977 D&D Basic Set, edited by J. Eric Holmes, presented an introduction to the game in just 48 pages. Yet these relatively modest publications helped establish a hobby capable of producing extraordinary adventures, elaborate imaginary worlds, memorable characters, and campaigns that could continue for years.
Why did they succeed? I would argue that their greatest strength was not necessarily their brevity, but the freedom they gave players to exercise their imaginations.
Early tabletop role-playing games operated on a remarkably powerful principle: the Game Master describes a situation, the players explain what their characters attempt to do, and the Game Master determines what happens, using dice and established rules whenever necessary. That basic arrangement can accommodate an almost unlimited number of imaginary situations without requiring a separate mechanical procedure for every conceivable action.
Of course, we shouldn’t romanticize early RPGs too much. The original D&D rules were sometimes confusing, incomplete, and heavily dependent upon familiarity with miniature wargaming. Game Masters frequently needed to invent their own procedures or interpret ambiguities. Shorter rulebooks did not automatically mean better explanations or simpler mechanics. Nevertheless, those early designers demonstrated something important: a relatively small collection of flexible rules can generate an enormous variety of gameplay experiences.
I believe modern designers can learn three particularly valuable lessons from this history. First, establish a consistent underlying system that can resolve many different situations. Second, preserve the Game Master’s authority to interpret circumstances rather than attempting to regulate every possible decision. Third, distinguish between rules that are necessary to play and additional material that exists to expand, explain, or enrich the experience.
However, there is another side to this argument that often gets overlooked. A short rulebook is not necessarily a simple game, and a long rulebook is not necessarily a complicated one.
A ten-page game can contain confusing mathematical procedures, poorly defined concepts, and mechanics that require constant interpretation. Conversely, a 500-page book might contain a remarkably straightforward core system accompanied by extensive examples, character options, equipment, monsters, adventures, and reference material. The important question is not how many pages the designer has written, but how much the players actually need to understand before they can begin enjoying themselves.
This distinction became particularly important to me while developing 👑Kingsmark, my own heroic fantasy tabletop role-playing game for mature players.
The First Edition of the Kingsmark Player’s Handbook contains 556 pages, which might initially seem to contradict everything I’ve just said about simplicity. However, one of my principal design objectives was to create a system that could accommodate an enormous variety of situations without forcing players to memorize hundreds of unrelated mechanical procedures.
Kingsmark uses a system I developed called ⭐Jack’s Cinematic d12 (JCd12). Its underlying resolution mechanic is remarkably straightforward: roll a single twelve-sided die, apply the relevant character abilities, and compare the result against a Target Number. This basic approach extends across many kinds of challenges, from physical activities and social interactions to dangerous combat encounters.
The game incorporates twelve 💪Attributes, five 🌈Attribute PRISMs, and twenty-four ⚒Skills to distinguish between different character capabilities. However, these elements operate within the same underlying resolution framework. The purpose of having more character detail is not to make every dice roll more complicated, but to represent meaningful differences between characters without requiring an entirely separate system for each activity.
Kingsmark also replaces conventional hit points with 🩸Physical Wounds and 🧠Mental Trauma, allowing injuries to produce consequences that reflect what actually happens to a character. Its ▶️Action Scenes use Action Points to govern what characters can accomplish during their Turns, while the handbook includes approximately 108 example Actions illustrating different possibilities. Yet those examples are not intended to limit players to a predetermined menu of options. Players remain free to attempt reasonable actions beyond those specifically described, and the Game Master interprets those situations using the established rules.
That is where I believe the philosophy of early role-playing games remains especially valuable. The rules should support the players’ imaginations, not become a substitute for them.
So why does Kingsmark require 556 pages?
Because I wanted to provide more than a handful of mechanical instructions. The handbook includes seventeen Character Classes, character creation, combat, magic, injuries, healing, equipment, extensive explanations, examples, reference material, ready-made characters, a Bestiary, and an introductory dungeon adventure. Much of that material exists to help Game Masters and players understand their options, resolve unusual situations consistently, and spend less time inventing procedures during play.
I also recognize that comprehensive rules introduce their own challenges. Kingsmark has more mechanical detail than a minimalist RPG, particularly in areas such as combat and injuries. I wouldn’t claim that every subsystem is equally simple. Rather, my objective was to make the foundation straightforward enough to learn while providing additional depth for situations where that detail becomes valuable.
To me, there is an enormous difference between a game that is difficult to learn because its rules are unnecessarily complicated and a game that takes time to explore because it offers so many possibilities.
Ultimately, I don’t believe modern RPG designers should aspire to produce either the shortest or the longest rulebooks. They should aspire to produce the most effective rules for the experiences they’re trying to create. If a game can accomplish its objectives in twenty pages, that’s excellent. If another game genuinely benefits from five hundred pages of well-organized material, that can be equally legitimate.
What matters is whether the rules disappear into the experience once play begins. Players should be concentrating on the decisions their characters face, the dangers they’re confronting, and the stories they’re creating—not repeatedly struggling to understand how the game works.
The great lesson of early RPG design is not that fewer pages automatically produce better games. It’s that a small number of well-designed principles can support an almost limitless amount of imagination.
Anyone interested in exploring my approach can read the complete 556-page Kingsmark Player’s Handbook online for FREE here at https://kingsmark.games or support the project by purchasing a copy.
— John Alan Martinson Jr.
Creator of Kingsmark
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