Bathtub Reviews are an excuse for me to read modules a little more closely. I’m doing them to critique a wide range of modules from the perspective of my own table and to learn for my own module design. They’re stream of consciousness and unedited critiques. I’m writing them on my phone in the bath.

The end of January marks my 100th Bathtub Review (not counting my I Read Reviews or Critique Navidad, so the number may be closer to 150 reviews in total), so I’m celebrating with an Introductory Extravaganza, where I review a different Dungeons and Dragons starter module every week for a few weeks. I’m going to cover The Village of Homlet (AD&D), Sunless Citadel (D&D 3e) and Lost Mine of Phandelver (D&D 5e). Why am I skipping 2e and 4e? Well, 2e didn’t have a definitive introductory module (in my opinion, please argue elsewhere), and I just don’t really think I’ll have much productive to say about the house style for 4e. And, I thought it would be more interesting to tag on The Iron Coral for Into the Odd and Blancmange and Thistle for Troika! We’ll go in chronological order, so first up is the Village of Hommlet.

The Village of Hommlet is a 21 page module for AD&D (1st edition) by E Gary Gygax, with art and maps by the Daves Trampier and Sutherland. It’s explicitly an introductory scenario designed for new players to AD&D, and is supposed to tie into the first megadungeon for AD&D, The Temple of Elemental Evil.

The layout, as with most of these late 70s TSR products, is abysmal. They’re printing in as few pages as possible, so we’ve got no margins, small type with minimal padding, packed into a two column layout, with pretty unclear highlighting and flagging of relevant information. It packs over 100 locations into those 21 pages, in addition to the multiple pages devoted to maps, introductions, and random encounter tables. Certainly, if you’re looking for quantity in as few pages as possible, the Village of Hommlet delivers. For me, though, the negatives of packing so many words into so few pages outweighs any positives associated with print cost, minimising page-turning, or ease of access. The cramped, low-padding layout makes it physically challenging to read and blurs the text, and the the lack of white space and art breaking up proceedings makes it hard to identify where information is on the page and where it is in the module altogether. Even modern day adherents to this style — either out of misguided belief it’s actually easy to read or out of a sense of devotion to the aesthetic — typically correct these issues to some degree. The information design is also challenging. The maps are all placed at the back of the module, rather than accompanying their keys. I suppose the intent is for them to be torn out and read in tandem, but as is it’s pretty difficult to know what you’re supposed to read and where to find it. But of course it’s no surprise that something published 5 years after the original 3 little books suffers in terms of graphic and information design. Let’s get onto the positives.

While for the most part I find Gygax’ writing opaque and boring, he has a gift for iconic, easy to visualise characters, and also occasionally drops dry humour in, as with the infamous Bree-yark joke in B2. Here, it’s in the potential religious sayings of Saint Cuthbert: “Foolishness can be beaten” or “Preach quietly but have a large cudgel handy” are options at the oracle. The Dungeon Master’s information section is actually quite generous, explaining exactly how things are laid out, how to differentiate information in the key, and how to modify the starting scenario for a more experienced table. The degree of support could be improved, though, there’s a clear assumption that while the players may be new to AD&D, the referee is exposed to alot of jargon without explanation. It encourages improvisation, although I always rail against the expectation here that the referee should memorise the entire module before play as an unrealistic one. I do like the advice that if anything happens to impede or harm more level representatives of factions, their leaders are likely to hear about it and that will impact future interactions with members of that faction.

Hommlet itself is an interesting and politically complex place, hamstrung by Gygax’ florid style and a lack of explanation. There are three primary factions, and most members of those factions in the village report back via courier. Named characters are all fairly evocative and easy to play, although take some extraction on behalf of the referee. The connections are there, but not spelled out, which either will result in mistakes being made because I have trouble “memorising everything in advance” or at best, serendipitous events as everything slots neatly into place.

I like the factions in Hommlet, as all three major ones are religions, and it gives strong small town, petty protestant interactions vibes, particularly between the druids and the cult of St Cuthbert. Grounding the factions in real situation is appealing to me, as I have a decent grasp of how they’d interact at a town level, and I suspect the Cult of Elemental Evil is supposed to give freemasonry vibes in the sense that the lower levels are innocents in it to get away from their families. The major issue here is I am not clearly presented with these factions’ goals — indeed by design, as the Cult of Elemental Evil is intended to lie largely in a future module, and at least one representative from each other faction is prominently Off Dealing With Them. It’s pretty clear we’re not expected as referee to be juggling these factions activities in the background, here, and that characters in them rather than agents are simply club-members, but I’d have like further guidance in any case.

One major misstep is the fact that very little leads player characters to the primary adventuring location (“the Ruined Moathouse”) from the village itself. While the module is incredibly dense and difficult to read, so I admit I may have missed something, even searching it digitally came up blank and there are no rumour tables or a wilderness to explore. I don’t think the Village of Hommlet needs those things necessarily, however something is needed to point the player characters in the direction of the adventuring location. Part of the issue here, I think, is that Gygax doesn’t want to tie things too solidly to the second module in the series, which means unless the player characters are systematically robbing the village, they’re unlikely to be lured in the direction of the moathouse or the cult of Elemental Evil.

Which brings me to the more significant flaws in the design, here, which tie into the epic character arc in AD&D leading to high level play, very slowly. What the Village of Hommlet needs is more obvious machinations and signs leading to the cult of Elemental Evil; we need to be able to use this as a base for our campaign, while also slowly stumbling upon creepy and weird situations. We need everyone to be seeding us intentionally with rumours reflecting the three factions perspectives. And then we want them to send us to the moathouse, leading to our first major encounter with the cult that comes later. The problem is that leaving the cult entirely to a future module cuts this natural flow short.

The moathouse, however, is an excellent early level adventuring location, at least after the style of early Dungeons and Dragons; you’re coming across a fairly random selection of monsters with little thematic consistency, but aimed at the correct level, with enough gold available to level up. Both levels are fairly large (17 and 18 rooms), and the dungeon level loops pleasingly and is full of surprises. I’d prefer more cohesive theming, but it’s an unreasonable expectation in the context of pre-1980 modules. You’ve definitely got a decent number of sessions and at least 2 levels in this module.

Overall, Village of Hommlet feels to me like an undercooked Against the Cult of the Reptile God. If I were to choose one, it wouldn’t be the Village of Hommlet; but the Village of Hommlet has so much potential that I want to see a modern take on it, which leverages the politics of the various religions, how one of those three religions has been co-opted by evil, and leads into a small, low key outpost for a greater evil. This is good stuff! I just wish this module actually had it all in there, at my fingertips, instead of it all being inferred and expected for me to generate it in prep.

More interestingly, the Village of Hommlet has a lot to say about what AD&D is: You’re supposed to be based out of a village or town, venturing into the nearby wilderness to pillage dungeons filled with uncomplicatedly evil foes. named characters in town are either fellow adventurers with ulterior motives to join you as henchmen, or else they’re representatives of factions playing politics with the lives of the locals. Aside from that, the town is filled with unnamed services. This is a very familiar structure, repeated elsewhere in AD&D and commonly repeated in the decades since. The Village of Hommlet sets that expectation clearly for the rest of the edition, but it relies heavily on the oral traditions of Dungeons and Dragons to actually provide onboarding, particularly for referees, which is interesting only 5 years into the existence of the hobby.

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