Tag Archives: Andy Collins

Is D&D Best When Corporate Isn’t Paying Attention? The Suits Are Paying Attention Now

D&D is best when its corporate owner isn’t paying attention. When I asked who deserved credit for that observation, it proved too widespread and too old to name a source. The D&D team started sharing the notion soon after 1985, when D&D’s co-creator Gary Gygax lost control of publisher TSR and non-gamers started managing the game. Since then, when the suits steered D&D’s creative direction, the game suffered, but when they ignored it, it thrived. Corporate attention has risen and fallen over the game’s 50-year history, leading to a cycle of highs and lows.

Many gamers fell in love with D&D with its second edition, but the release stands as a creative low. Sure, the second edition designers loved the game and fought to make the release as good as possible, but TSR’s management stifled their ability to improve on the rules. Lead designer David “Zeb” Cook recalled, “We had to convince management that [second edition] was a good idea because they’re going, ‘That’s our Core Business right there and you’re talking about rewriting it.’  Fear starts to appear in their eyes. ‘We have a whole warehouse full of product. If you do this, what’s going to happen to all that product?’”

“There were all kinds of changes that we would have made if we had been given a free hand to make them—an awful lot of what ultimately happened in the third edition,” said second-edition designer Steve Winter said. “We heard so many times, ‘Why did you keep armor classes going down instead of going up?’ People somehow thought that that idea had never occurred to us. We had tons of ideas that we would have loved to do, but we still had a fairly narrow mandate that whatever was in print should still be largely compatible with the second edition.”

A game outside of management’s scrutiny, the 1992 edition of Gamma World, benefited from the design team’s innovations. “We basically said, take all these ideas that we couldn’t do and incorporate them into Gamma World and make it as streamlined as possible,” explained Steve Winter. Gamma World featured many innovations that corporate blocked from reaching the second edition.

  • Ascending armor class
  • Skills called skills
  • Attribute checks
  • Attribute modifiers similar to those that would appear in 3rd edition
  • Health and Mental Defense saves that resemble 3rd edition’s Fortitude and Will saves

(See The Dungeons & Dragons Books that Secretly Previewed Each New Edition.)

Management also made the decision to remove demons and devils. “That didn’t work because, oh my goodness, they’re the best monsters ever” Designer Wolfgang Baur said, only slightly in jest. “Every hero wants to take on and defeat them.” The game steered away from anything that might alarm concerned parents. See D&D’s Biggest Controversies Ranked—1. D&D Becomes a Target of the Satanic Panic.

During D&D’s second edition era, parts of the D&D product line also gained freedom and creative energy from management’s inattention. The Planescape campaign setting makes a perfect example. The setting met widespread critical acclaim. For example, in Pyramid issue 8, Scott Haring wrote, “Normally, I start a review off slowly…forget that noise. I’ll cut to the chase—Planescape is the finest game world ever produced for Advanced Dungeons & Dragons. Period.” He concluded, “Planescape is a revolutionary product, a breakthrough for TSR. If you think you’ve ‘graduated’ from AD&D, that you’ve evolved past it, go back and take a look at Planescape. This is the game world that will get you playing AD&D again.”

Planescape’s lead designer, Zeb Cook, started the setting from minimal instructions summarized in Slaying the Dragon by D&D historian Ben Riggs. “Do the planes. Have a base location as a setting. And do factions.” The idea for factions came from the bestselling Vampire: The Masquerade game. “The vagueness gave [Zeb Cook] license. He could do almost anything and play anywhere in the D&D cosmos.”

Soon after the setting’s release, Cook left TSR, but follow-up products continued to gain from a lack of oversight. “Fortunately for the Planescape team, upper management was very hands-off with Planescape, even after it won the Origins Award, and we could get as weird as we wanted,” recalled designer Colin McComb. “Now that I think about it, it’s possible Creative Director Andria Hayday and David Wise (who would be promoted to the manager for the whole department) managed to shield us from the Eye of Sauron—getting us the resources we needed while keeping management from paying too much attention to us.”

Despite Planescape’s creative success, the line failed to make money for TSR. None of TSR’s products made enough money, so by 1997 the company neared bankruptcy. Wizards of the Coast (WotC) purchased TSR and saved D&D from being auctioned piecemeal by the courts. Peter Adkison, WotC’s CEO and a D&D fan, led D&D to a new high.

Adkison became deeply involved in D&D, attending third edition design meetings and earning a designer credit in the rule books. But Adkison approached the game as a fan and game designer. “Coming into 1990…I was spending so much time on D&D that I decided, along with many of my friends, to start a gaming company—Wizards of the Coast.” When the third-edition design team struggled to agree on a direction for the new edition, Adkison set one from a gamer’s perspective. “I was filled with trepidation. I was assuming responsibility for something very important to, literally, millions of fans around the world. If I made the wrong decisions, a lot of gamers would be very disappointed.” He feared disappointing gamers rather than stockholders.

Adkison set a good direction for the game, and the designers released an edition that delighted existing players and won new enthusiasts. “Fan response was immediate and overwhelmingly positive,” wrote Adkison.

The 2003 release of a 3.5 rules update brought D&D to another low. By then, Peter Adkison had left Wizards of the Coast. Most D&D players now owned third-edition books, so sales slowed. Corporate management looked for a way to boost D&D revenue. Based on his insider knowledge, game designer Monte Cook concludes that management sped the release of D&D 3.5 to just three years after third edition’s debut and that “the amount of change in the books was artificially increased beyond what was needed to force the player base to buy all new rule books.”

The update’s designers succeeded at making improvements, so when Paizo developed their Pathfinder game, they built on 3.5. Still, the sudden release hurt D&D overall. “The changes in 3.5 are so pervasive, and some of them so subtle, that any mastery people had achieved is gone. ‘Oh come on, Monte,’ one might reply, ‘the changes aren’t that bad.’ I’m not even talking about ‘good’ or ‘bad’ here. The problem is that there are just enough changes that a player has to question everything. Even if fireball didn’t really change, after you’ve had to re-learn how wall of force, flame arrow, and polymorph work, how can you be sure? Welcome to the game sessions where you’ve got to look everything up again.”

At the time, D&D players enjoyed a surging number of third-party, D&D-compatible products that filled game store shelves. The release of 3.5 instantly made those books incompatible. Game stores suffered from stocks of nearly worthless products. Most of the publishers went out of business. Everyone lost.

While the D&D team developed the game‘s fourth edition for a 2008 release, Harbro management brought big ideas for an edition could increase the game’s profitability. “Some of the people who ran WotC were really jealous of World of Warcraft’s subscription model and so a whole bunch of the things that happened at Wizards of the Coast at that time were based on trying to get people to pay money every month,” lead designer Rob Heinsoo said. Management also hoped a new edition would break ties to the Open Gaming License, stopping other publishers from profiting from D&D compatibility without paying for a license.

The millions of people playing World of Warcraft seemed to far outnumber those playing D&D. “When we made the fourth edition, one of the earliest design goals given to us by the management was that it should be more familiar to people who were coming in having played World of Warcraft and other digital games. We were supposed to be more approachable.” So the new edition focused on the elements that made the D&D fun and especially appealing to fans of online fantasy games.

Designer Mike Mearls recalled that the team felt that “building a player character was the real thing that drove people to play the games. You wanted to choose your feats, your prestige classes and whatnot.” Rob Heinsoo focused on adding an irresistible hook. “The solution James Wyatt, Andy Collins, and I were excited about was to give every PC an ongoing series of choices of interesting powers. Every combat round you have an interesting choice of which power or powers to use.”

While the ultimate design offered many virtues, it failed to interest enough D&D fans. Mike Mearls later wrote, “No one at Wizards ever woke up one day and said, ‘Let’s get rid of all our fans and replace them.’ That was never the intent. With fourth edition, there were good intentions. The game is very solid, there are a lot of people who play it and enjoy it, but you do get those people that say ‘hey, this feels like an MMO, this feels like a board game.’” (For the full story of fourth edition, see The Threat that Nearly Killed Dungeons & Dragons—Twice.)

By the time the D&D team started on a fifth edition, corporate no longer gave the tabletop game as much scrutiny. After all, the fourth edition had become a financial disappointment and the tabletop RPG market had declined since 2005. Years of annual layoffs had eliminated most of the fourth-edition team. “While we didn’t talk about it in public, the business goal was to make a game that could keep people happy so that D&D could grow via video games and licensing,” fifth-edition lead Mike Mearls wrote later. “We ended up laying off or re-assigning several of the designers and editors after the game launched.”

The focus on video games and licensing brought freedom to the fifth-edition team. Instead of taking orders from upper management, the design team relied on feedback from the fans. Between the edition’s announcement in 2012 and its release in 2014, the D&D team offered a series of open playtest packets, collected feedback from 170,000 players, and then let the fans help guide the design.

Fifth edition became a hit. While every other edition of the game brought a surge of sales that quickly fell after existing players bought in, fifth edition sales climbed year after year. During Hasbro’s investor calls, the company now routinely boasted of D&D’s growth and profitability. Before the fifth edition, D&D only rated a mention once.

But over eight years, sales inevitably cooled, and in the corporate world, a steady profit is a disappointment. In 2022, Hasbro CEO Chris Cocks and Wizards of the Coast CEO Cynthia Williams appeared in a presentation for investors. Williams touted D&D’s popularity but described the game as “under monetized.” Wizards aimed to do a better job of gaining income from the game, bringing more earnings to stockholders. Corporate scrutiny returned.

WotC’s lawyers found a way to potentially invalidate the OGL that allowed publishers to profit from D&D-comparable products without giving WotC a cut. Incensed D&D fans forced the company to kill the plan. (See D&D’s Biggest Controversies Ranked—3. Wizards of the Coast Attempts To Revoke the Current Open Gaming License.)

Unlike D&D 3.5, I suspect something more noble than a cash grab led to the release of D&D’s 2024 update. In a 2020 article on diversity, the team wrote that in the six years since fifth edition’s release “making D&D as welcoming and inclusive as possible has moved to the forefront of our priorities.” D&D needed a new Player’s Handbook that dropped racial ability score modifiers and reflected the priority. As a bonus, the team could also make refinements based on years of play. (For my prediction of an upcoming update, see D&D‘s Ongoing Updates and How a Priority Could Lead to New Core Books.) The 2024 books include many improvements that I love.

Despite the good intentions, the 2024 update suggests Hasbro’s corporate influence, and I think the meddling left us with a weaker game than the D&D team might have created if left alone.

Watch the videos promoting the update to fans. The designers rarely mention all the welcome refinements and corrections to the existing rules. Instead, they boast of additions that never appeared on anyone’s wish list of essential updates.

  • They show new benefits player characters gain. The scale of these boosts goes beyond shoring up weaker classes, adding new candy like features that will “frustrate” DMs and a new weapon mastery system certain to slow play.
  • They showcase the bastion system—a game within a game that lets players farm more boons for their characters. Since 1974, D&D has sporadically included stronghold rules, but players rarely use them.
  • They tout the new crafting system that lets characters manufacture their own loot. When Chris Perkins pitched the crafting system, he cautioned that it appears in the Dungeon Master’s Guide because “this is unlocked by the dungeon master. The dungeon master determines whether or not the materials are available, whether or not the characters can build these items.” Perkins knows if characters with nowhere else to spend their gold can manufacture items like wands and enspelled gear, they will derail any campaign. The book offers no advice to DMs on managing crafting, so this system feels like a trap rushed into the book.

Because few gamers asked for many of the advertised changes, I suspect the push to make them came from corporate. The most unnecessary and weakest additions to the 2024 version of the game seem like they came from a meeting where a marketing executive stood at a white board with a marker, turned to face the D&D design team, and then demanded that they pitch new goodies that would sell the 2024 books to players who already have the 2014 books. Years from now, I may write a post that includes quotes from those designers talking about just such a meeting.

The Unintended Consequence That Ruined Fourth Edition D&D’s Chance of Success, But Proved Great for Gamers

Publicly, members of Wizards of the Coast’s Dungeons & Dragons team never discuss sales numbers. Privately, they dispute the notion that the Pathfinder role-playing game ever outsold fourth-edition D&D. But at Gen Con, late in the short life of fourth edition, evidence of D&D’s collapse seemed glaring. Pathfinder players filled the massive Sagamore Ballroom that had once hosted D&D play. Meanwhile, D&D players became exiles in a much smaller space. To be fair, Paizo made a bigger financial commitment to the con, but Pathfinder players filled more tables. And Paizo boasted a long line of customers  waiting to pass the velvet ropes into the Pathfinder sales area.

If big-shot Hasbro executives had seen this difference, they would have rehired the entire fourth-edition team just to sack them again.

At Gen Con 2010, fourth edition seemed like a catastrophe, but the game’s designers deserved less blame then they got. They had simply created a D&D edition that tried to match the appeal of online role-playing games. During development, the edition seemed like a savior the D&D needed. Their plan had suffered some tragic, and unimaginable setbacks—and D&D designers boast pretty good imaginations.

Most of the blame for the collapse lay with the executives who needed to wring as much revenue as possible from the D&D brand. They had made the one decision that crushed the edition’s chance for modest success. Of course, these planners never imagined that their decision would lead to an upheaval. That came from unintended consequences.

And the decision proved lucky for gamers, because we benefited from the blunder.

Fourth edition’s chance of success died before the edition even reached stores. It died when Wizards of the Coast chose to prevent Paizo Publishing from staying in the business of supporting D&D.

Paizo started in 2002, when Wizards of the Coast decided to focus on its core competencies by selling its periodical business along with 5-year licenses to publish Dungeon and Dragon magazines.

The new publisher endured a rocky start. When the harsh economics of magazine publishing led to the end of their Undefeated and Amazing Stories magazines, the cancellations forced layoffs. Paizo founder Lisa Stevens took the setback hard. “The people at Paizo are my friends. With just a few keystrokes on a spreadsheet, I was potentially destroying lives, or at least changing their trajectories forever. The stress took over while driving home and I had to pull over to the side of the road and started bawling. I knew in my heart that I needed to make some drastic changes to give the company a chance to survive.” (For much more on the history of Paizo, including the quotes from their staff in this post, see the series of blog posts called Auntie Lisa’s Story Hour.)

Paizo continued to build publishing expertise. In Dungeon, The Shackled City launched a series of multi-part scenarios that Paizo called adventure paths. The paths plotted an entire campaign, from 1st to 20th level, from a series of linked adventures. “The reaction to The Shackled City was nothing short of fantastic,” Stevens recalled. “Little did we realize that the Adventure Path would eventually become our flagship brand, and our salvation in our most difficult time.

In 2005, the company started seeing profits and won the silver ENnie award for best publisher. Stevens saw validation that Paizo had finally found the right course.

By 2006, the license to publish Dragon and Dungeon neared its end, but Stevens and publisher Erik Mona felt sure a renewal would come. “With subscriptions on the rise, and powerful wind in our sails from the Shackled City and Age of Worms Adventure Paths, there seemed little reason for concern.

But Wizards made other plans for the magazines. Their fourth-edition business strategy depended on luring monthly subscribers to D&D Insider. Electronic versions of Dragon and Dungeon would add value to that program.

On May 30, 2006, Stevens learned that she would lose the license. “After the call, I brought Erik in to my office and told him the news, tears streaming down my face.

I don’t think any of us ever really thought that this was much more than a remote possibility. Dragon and Dungeon were finally firing on all cylinders and were enjoying critical acclaim that hadn’t been seen in years. So this news struck us to the core. In one meeting, the last large chunk of the company that we started not quite four years before was going away. We were numb. How the heck were we going to cope with this? Frankly, it seemed impossible at the time.

I have to give Wizards of the Coast a lot of praise for how they handled the end of the license. Contractually, they only needed to deliver notice of non-renewal by the end of December 2006; without the extra seven months’ notice they chose to give us, I’m not sure that Paizo could have survived. Wizards also granted our request to extend the license through August 2007 so that we could finish up the Savage Tide adventure path. This gave us quite a bit of time to figure out how we were going to cope with the end of the magazines. It would have been very easy for WotC to have handled this in a way which would have effectively left Paizo for dead—all they would have had to do was follow the letter of the contract. Instead, they treated us like the valued partner we had been, giving us the ability to both plan and execute a strategy for survival. For that, I will always be thankful.

Paizo forged a survival plan based on replacing the magazines with monthly adventure path installments. If successful, the plan would save the jobs of all the company’s employees. “To transition the company into its new form in 2007,” Mona explained, “We needed all hands on deck.

Paizo’s new Pathfinder Adventure Path brought success. Sales were brisk, and the number of Dungeon and Dragon subscribers who switched to Pathfinder subscriptions surpassed targets.

But at Gen Con in August 2007, Wizards of the Coast announced that fourth edition D&D would arrive in 2008. Paizo’s plan depended on lines of products compatible with third-edition D&D. Suddenly these lines seemed doomed to obsolescence and obscurity.

After talks with our colleagues at Wizards of the Coast, we were cautiously optimistic,” Stevens recalled. “There was talk of getting together when we were back in Seattle and running through a playtest of the current rules. We were also promised that there would be a third-party license, similar to the OGL, really soon.

Meanwhile, Paizo employee and D&D freelancer Jason Bulmahn saw his assignments from Wizards disappear as the company turned to in-house development of fourth edition. Suddenly, he had free time. For fun, he wrote a set of revisions to the D&D 3.5-edition rules. “My first document had the title ‘3.75 Rules Set’ in the margin.

In the months after the fourth-edition announcement, Paizo anxiously waited for a chance to playtest the new edition, but the preview never came. Worse, the third-party license failed to reach publishers.

Inside Wizards, the D&D team wanted to launch fourth edition with something like the Open Game License, but they lacked the clout to get another generous license approved. In an interview, D&D designer Andy Collins summarized the situation by saying, “Legal opinions change; legal staffs change.

By the start of 2008, Paizo ran out of time to wait. “The lack of a firm commitment or any kind of schedule from Wizards was stretching our patience—and our deadlines,” Stevens wrote. She called a company summit to discuss options.

Bulmahn recalled the meeting. “We struggled most of that day to come up with a viable plan. I kept thinking back to my rules document, even though it was little more than a mishmash of rules ideas and notes. Late in the afternoon, I brought it up to the folks in attendance.” By the end of the meeting Bulmahn ranked as lead designer of Mon Mothma, the new code name for a potential Pathfinder role-playing game.

Wizards’ decision to end the magazine licenses had turned Paizo upside down and now made the company willing to explore a daring plan based on a mishmash of ideas and notes. “We were beginning to think that forging our own path forward might be a valid choice,” Stevens explained.

Nevertheless, we dutifully sent Jason Bulmahn to Wizards’ D&D Experience in Fort Wayne, Indiana that February. Jason’s mission was to learn as much as he could about 4th Edition, play it as much as he could, and report back with his findings. From that, we would ultimately make a decision that could make or break us. The tension was agonizing. I could barely sleep at night as my mind wrestled with the options. If we made the wrong decision, it could very well mean the end of Paizo.

From the moment that 4th Edition had been announced, we had trepidations about many of the changes we were hearing about. Jason’s report confirmed our fears—4th Edition didn’t look like the system we wanted to make products for. Whether a license for 4E was forthcoming or not, we were going to create our own game system based on the 3.5 SRD: The Pathfinder Roleplaying Game.

The cheap hobby of table-top role playing makes selling RPG games a tough business, but selling print RPG magazines in the Internet age is even tougher. Still, Paizo had learned to thrive. By fourth edition’s announcement, Paizo stood as an experienced publisher with an expert team of D&D designers, including many former Wizards employees.

When Wizards chose not to renew the Paizo’s license to publish Dragon and Dungeon, they led Paizo to compete with fourth edition. Paizo combined a lower cost structure and the nimble size of a small company with the resources to win against a giant like Wizards of the Coast.

As a result, gamers benefited from a choice of games. When asked about the split between Pathfinder and fourth edition, D&D designer Andy Collins said, “I think they’re both great games, and if they were more similar the hobby would be worse for it. I think it’s better to have games that are more distinct from one another that gives people clear choices. ‘Well this is the style of game I want to play, or this other one is the style of game I want to play.’ Nothing wrong with that.

If you loved fourth edition, you can still play games based on a shelf full of titles released for the game. Wizards even continues to offer D&D Insider to ongoing subscribers. If you favor fifth edition, many of the lessons of fourth helped make the new game so good. And if you love Pathfinder, the game continues to thrive. Is it okay to love them all?

Why Fourth Edition Seemed Like the Savior Dungeons & Dragons Needed

In 2005, Dungeons & Dragons faced a possible future similar to the fate of another popular role-playing game, Vampire: The Masquerade. In this future, D&D only exists as a license for online games and t-shirts and another potential movie. The tabletop game remains as an archive of PDFs for sale to die-hards. See The Threat that Nearly Killed Dungeons & Dragons—Twice.

To guarantee tabletop D&D never met this end, the game needed to qualify as a core game brand at Wizards of the Coast, now owned by Hasbro. D&D needed to match its best-ever year of sales in 2000, but this time the game needed sustained sales at that level.

Without a new edition, the game could never approach such numbers. A new edition could be easy, but it had to bring a profitable, sustainable strategy that would meet stockholder’s expectations for return on investment. So far, no tabletop publisher had found such a strategy.

None of this means that fourth edition’s inspiration came entirely from a reach for sales. D&D team leader Bill Slavicsek wrote, “As we move deeper into the third edition, it’s flaws and fun-ending complexities become more pronounced, more obvious to players and Dungeon Masters alike.” The design team saw ways to “greatly reduce and perhaps even eliminate completely the parts of the game that get in the way of the fun.”

Meanwhile, a new threat was taking players from D&D. World of Warcraft debuted in 2004 and experienced surging popularity. By May 2005, WoW had 3.5 million players. By 2008, the community hit more than 11 million players. D&D players started talking about the players that tabletop lost to WoW.

At gaming conventions, the same aging guys who started playing in the 80s showed up to play D&D. Presumably, the younger players and women who might love D&D stayed home to play Warcraft. Wizards of the Coast aimed advertisements at bringing WoW players to the tabletop, but mere ads could never win the flood of new fans D&D needed.

WoW didn’t look like a fad or another way to play. It seemed like the vanguard leading to the future of gaming. “Gaming was definitely changing,” D&D designer Mike Mearls explained. “And I think that for 4th Edition, what we were trying to do was to start predicting for D&D where we thought the game was heading.”

Surely, new players coming to D&D would have an online or video game background. To compete, D&D needed a big advance—a new edition that didn’t just improve the game but an edition capable of winning Warcraft players by matching some of what drew players to online games. “As far as I know, 4th edition was the first set of rules to look to videogames for inspiration,” Mearls said. “I wasn’t involved in the initial design meetings for the game, but I believe that MMOs played a role in how the game was shaped. I think there was a feeling that D&D needed to move into the MMO space as quickly as possible.”

So the new edition focused on the elements that made the D&D fun and especially appealing to fans of online fantasy games. Mearls recalled that the team felt that “building a player character was the real thing that drove people to play the games. You wanted to choose your feats, your prestige classes and whatnot.”

Once players built their characters, the fun came from showing off those characters on the battlefield. Lead designer Rob Heinsoo wanted to give the game an irresistible hook that tied the game together and compelled gamers to play. “The solution James Wyatt, Andy Collins, and I were excited about was to give every PC an ongoing series of choices of interesting powers. Most every time you gain a level you select a new power or a feat. Every combat round you have an interesting choice of which power or powers to use.”

But none of this excitement would benefit players who struggled to find DMs or potential DMs who saw the role as a chore.

The new edition worked to be easier to run. Casual DMs could simply buy an adventure, read the boxed text, and then run a sequence of skill challenges and combat encounters. In a skill challenge, the DM just had to decide if a skill helped the players—but only when the challenge’s description neglected to list a skill in advance. Combat encounters ran easier too. Monsters offered a few, clear options for combat. Just move and roll attacks.

To succeed, the new edition needed to do more than win new players. The game needed a profitable, sustainable strategy.

For Blizzard Entertainment, Warcraft boasted an advantage that the D&D team surely envied. Players paid a monthly fee, which guaranteed steady revenue.

“Along the way, we also came up with the idea of Dungeons & Dragons Insider,” Bill Slavicsek wrote. “This exciting suite of digital tools for players and Dungeon Masters was just too powerful a concept to try to shoehorn the existing d20 Game System around it. Instead we knew we had to rebuild the game to take full advantage of this amazing new initiative.”

The game didn’t just need to be easy to DM. It needed to be easy to run online. Ideally, it would help DMs enough to make running a bad game nearly impossible. Players could drop into the virtual tabletop at any hour, join any available DM, and feel confident that a stranger could deliver a fun experience. A thriving virtual table would let players join a game 24/7, just like Warcraft. And all those player would pay monthly, just like Warcraft.

The designers aimed for online-friendly rules. Fourth edition defines powers as tightly as Magic the Gathering cards, so a computer never needs to decide if, for example, you can take ongoing damage from cold and fire at the same time. Unlike earlier editions, spell effects no longer required a DM’s judgement to rule on a Wish or to decide whether a wizard could polymorph a fly into a blue whale that would drop on a foe.

If the rules proved easy for computers to emulate, the virtual table could lift more and more of the rules burden from the DM and the players. Meanwhile, a new generation of D&D-inspired video games and MMOs could open new revenue sources.

The team planned ways for players at kitchen tables to contribute to the bottom line too. The emphasis on character building would inspire players to by a stream of books with new options. DMs would buy adventures. Everyone needed miniatures. The 4E rules list “D&D Miniatures” among things needed for play—not as a “Useful addition” like a character sheet. The rules never mention tokens or other alternatives to minis.

The D&D team thought they finally had the recipe for sustained success that D&D needed. The new game featured rules optimized to bring the most fun out of the character creation and combat choices that drew players to D&D. The new strategy could gain the income that would vault D&D to a core brand for years to come.

At the 2007 Gen Con game convention, the D&D team announced the new edition. Mike Mearls saw an uneasy reaction from the D&D faithful. “The big announcement on Thursday night was, well, tense. We didn’t spark a riot, but it seemed the audience was a bit nervous.”

As someone in the audience, I saw a confused reception. The D&D team emphasized D&D Insider and the virtual tabletop so much that people wondered if D&D would remain a game playable without a computer. But the designers loved D&D and their new edition, so we felt ready to embrace it too.

Next: Why Fourth Edition Never Saved Dungeons & Dragons