Three Hearts and Three Lions.
The very first entry on the table of inspirational and educational reading,
Appendix: N of the first edition AD&D Dungeon Master's Guide -
penned by Gygax himself. Admittedly self-professed to be ordered by alpha, the
significance of Poul Anderson's influence on Gygaxian Dungeons & Dragons
can't be understated: perhaps in contention with Jack Vance in representing
the single most influential piece of the original game. While Vance's work has
persisted even through the current edition in the form of his
Dying Earth's interpretation on the invocation of magic - Anderson's
influence on the undertone of the system - on monsters, on alignment, on
expectations of a party member as player: all things that differ between the
perspectives of a modern role-player and an old-school one - can't be
understated; and the role of this, only one of dozens of volumes he wrote, in
providing that context - in bridging that gap - shouldn't be underestimated.
From one role-player to another, one who came to the hobby in the
post-Gygaxian era and who has since come to embrace the traditions enshrined
before, I present one perspective: Three Hearts and Three Lions - and
why it should be the first thing that new-comers to OSR gaming should read.
The Yarn, Itself
Three Hearts and Three Lions is a quick read - 220 digest sized pages
in my copy - and largely a pleasant one. The tone of the book is jocular - told
as though a friend was telling it to you at a bar and as though you're not
sure whether or not to believe, but it's fun enough that you wind up
listening. There are moments where the diction is difficult to follow -
namely, when accents are affected by spelling: or when particular references
are made to material science - however at no point in the reading did I have
to go over the same text more than a second time.
Likewise - I found myself getting attached to the characters: when something
went ill for one, or when something happened to threaten the direction that I
had wanted the story to take, I was personally affronted: fighting through
temptation to skip ahead to see the resolution - in all but one case, my
admonitions of the plot being rebuffed - again, as a friend might turn the
twist and slam a mug against the table: pleasing the listener at the
unexpected turn of events that led to where you wanted them to lead in the
first place.
Fanciful language is somewhat lacking - though fanciful elements are not: and
each chapter leads into the next as episodes of the larger tale. You need to
know, for example, the characters that are met in the first few chapters - but
later chapters, such as the mystery of the lycanthrope, could stand on their
own as a pulp publication outside the book - their inclusion serving as a way
to bemuse the reader, but also to explain certain elements of continuity in
the story and in the setting which otherwise might go unexplained: an act that
the author is aghast to perform! Seemingly unrelated depictions, seemingly
unconnected events, can be tied and understood to contribute to an over-all
atmosphere and to better convey the nature of the world to the reader in
interesting ways, such that these details are absorbed by osmosis rather than
through a dump of
fluff or flavor.
It is not, however, a perfect book.
To speak to the pieces of the book I did not like, I'll have to spoil a bit -
I will try to hide the spoiler under a detail tag - which will hide or show at
your leisure, provided you have a modern browser to use - however, if the tag
doesn't work, skip ahead to the next heading,
The Influence on Alignment.
Were I to complain about the book,
...I would have to complain about the ending. At the end of the hero's
journey, he finds out who he truly is: his identity having been hidden from
him by foul magics. United with his sword and his companions, the author
reveals he is truly Oiger le Danois! A
folk hero of European Christendom, hints dropped throughout the text hinting at his identity (including his
name, itself!) can be pieced together to support the big reveal!
The book then concludes - no more action, no more dialog, no more adventure
in the fanciful alternate Earth - with the equivalent of "He rode off,
everyone loved him, and he conquered his enemies!" It's as though the point
of the story was to present the puzzle, daring the reader to figure out who
the character was - it's presented immediately as his own problem: who am I
in this world? - before the jig is up and the secret is revealed in the
finale. It's as though the book was not written to tell the story, but
instead to masturbate the intellect and education of the author and his
readers - not to enthrall and enchant, as to that point, it truly does.
Similarly, an afterword is provided wherein - not only did the story end
unceremoniously, but the character
is transported back to modern times through no effort of his own! In
a very John Carter of Mars moment, he is transported back into the
modern world while in the midst of battle - when the iron rails of plot
necessitates it happen. John Carter transitions to Barsoom on death - and
Holger Dankse (presumably named after the
resistance group
he serves to join) is transported to the alternative timeline when shot in
the head by the Nazis. Following this, he is said to be seeking grimoires to
restore him to the alternate Earth, to reunite with those whom he loves: and
the author says, "I never heard from him again - people do go disappearing
once in a while, you know" - as though to dare the reader to draw their own
conclusion that Holger does indeed make it home.
Perhaps, it serves as a way to lend credence to the premise - that the story
is told to the author by a friend who experienced it: so a return to our
timeline is necessary to fulfill it.
And perhaps, I choose to believe he did make it back: as I would
assume the author desires me to believe - thinking of the fondness I've
developed, having experienced the adventure with its characters.
But in any case - I was disappointed by the ending - twofold: first, in the
sudden "Everything seems black and impossible... but everything is suddenly
fine now!" and second, in the intentional ambiguity of the post-script.
This point of contention may bother you too - or it may not. I should think
anyone a fan of adventure and of fantasy would enjoy the story, regardless:
and may simply do as I have done and chosen to believe.
The Influence on Alignment
Foremost among the lessons of Three Hearts and Three Lions might be the
origins of Law and Chaos in the D&D alignment system.
But CWR - I thought Michael Moorcock was the source of the Law and Chaos
alignment spectrum in D&D?
Many people do - and he did have an influence. His Hawkmoon and
Stormbringer titles are listed in the same inspirational reading block
as are Anderson's. However, Moorcock himself
cites Anderson as an influence and inspiration for his interpretation of
cosmic order: and though I swear I have read at some point that Gygax, himself, preferred
Andersonian alignment over Moorcockian, I cannot find a source to cite for it
and will have to be satisfied pointing out that Anderson was active earlier -
1961 (Three Hearts and Three Lions), 1954 (The Broken Sword),
1960 (The High Crusade) - than was Moorcock - 1965
(Stormbringer), 1963 (Stealer of Souls), 1967 (The Jewel in the Skull
- the first title in the Hawkmoon series).
But I digress.
I won't quote Anderson on it - there are a thousand blog results who do when
you
google it
- but where both authors will speak to alignment in cosmic terms: Anderson in
particular does a good job of divorcing alignment from personality. A good
person can be Chaotic - although their actions and their activities will
undermine civilization; simultaneously, a bad person can be Lawful - they may
murder, pillage, or make war on things that are holy, but those self-serving
motives, those secular actions: they aren't indicators of their position in
the greater scene. Anderson clearly and blatantly separates alignment from the
personalities and goals of the people who serve it: which Moorcock does
somewhat, although Moorcock tends to infuse his writing with his own
nihilism, which dilutes the literary concept with intended metaphor. For that
reason, Anderson is better in this regard - and I will speak no more to
condemn one author in preference for another.
Another interesting component of Anderson's alignment: for humans, alignment
is a choice - though naturally, humans tend towards Law. For other races -
Elves, Trolls, etc - there isn't a choice. Their very natures are
infused with Chaos: again, regardless of their goals or motives. Trolls in
Three Hearts and Three Lions - or, True Trolls from Chainmail -
and though they may be fickle, they may wage war on the forces of Law, they
are equally facile in waging diplomacy: something that has more presence in
The Broken Sword where the Elves do business with the Dwarves, a race
which can touch iron and which are not born with an innate Chaos nor Law to
them.
This bioessentialism - as it may be - is contrasted to the races of men: Elves
are by their nature Chaotic - but no men are. We see two Lawful men, men who
were once enemies on the battlefield as a result of ethnic and religious
differences - but who became brothers with time. This fellowship, this kindred
spirit of humanity, is a stark answer to the criticism that "orcs can't be
evil" - absolutely: yes, they can - because like
Three Hearts and Three Lions, humanity is one race, one people, with
different creeds and different appearances - each, however, connected together
by a permeating connection to Law, but given liberty to choose our own paths.
Once this concept - and that of alignment being something bigger, a dichotomy
and narrative mechanic to facilitate non-combat interactions between opposing
factions - than the personality litmus test it has become: once this concept
has been grasped, other concepts similarly fall into place.
The Influence on Encounters
But what then - tangibly - can be ascribed to
Three Hearts and Three Lions that made it into the print of the books?
Most obviously - monsters.
As one familiar with the LBBs (reprints, of course - gamer on a budget), when
reading through Three Hearts and Three Lions, my
Book II: Monsters and Treasure alarm went off several times during the
read - it was exciting for me, seeing things in the source material that, in
the original edition, so obviously paralleled in the game world! Dragons and
barbarians notwithstanding - as surely, these creatures exist in a multitude
of sources - other creatures seem to be uniquely inspired by Anderson's work.
In illustrating as such, I submit two examples - which, in so doing,
may entail spoilers to the plot: so I will, again, attempt to hide the core
contents:
The Troll
The Troll! The most iconic D&D monster outside the product identifying
Beholder! Reviewing my copy of Book II: Monsters & Treasure,
lavishly printed from PDF sparing no expense on my 5 year old HP 4000
series:
Juxtapose this to the penultimate encounter of Holger, et al, in
Three Hearts and Three Lions:
The creatures described are the same - and the creature illustrated for
D&D has been of this likeness ever since. The band goes on to strike it,
again and again, only to find it regenerates after each assault:
From there, it's only by accident when the Swan May strikes out with the
torch do they discover the creature's weakness to flame - rapidly (through
player character ingenuity) turning the tide of the
encounter.
In either case - if you have not read Three Hearts and Three Lions,
the troll scene is truly evocative: it's one to take inspiration from, in
terms of how to play trolls when encountered in the D&D wild, and one
that - for players who have not experienced trolls before (or even some who
have) would provide a terrifying and memorable experience.
The Nixie
While less dramatic than the troll - the Nixie: an underwater fey who
captures Holger with intent to hold him captive and prevent his destiny - is
an interesting addition to this list as it translates directly into the
rulebook at the table. Consider Book II: Monsters & Treasure:
Each of these elements, we see referenced in
Three Hearts and Three Lions as our protagonist wrestles with the
lake spirit. Firstly, regarding the mechanism of imprisonment of a targeted
character...
...and secondly, regarding the guardians of the Nixie - down to the named
species!
When Holger escapes from the predicament (more to come on that escapade
later in the article) he does so using the mechanism described - namely,
employing a flaming weapon to fend the pike off while swimming away from the
Nixie's grotto:
Here found, admittedly, is a point of diversion between the book and the game.
In Three Hearts and Three Lions, the fey cannot abide iron and cannot
abide ultra-violet radiation (or, daylight - hence, you see the fey at night
in their mythological tales of origin) - as such, the Nixie is held at bay by
the burning dagger: in D&D, presumably, the flaming aspect must have been
too accessible to make gamist sense. That said - the other parallels are too
close to be coincidental: and the reader - again - is presented with a
situation where wits are required to escape: something to challenge a party
with and an example of how, using an effect like Charm Person - which,
in early editions, was extremely hard to deter once it's set in - what appears
to the modern gamer to be certain doom can be turned into a memorable event
and escape worthy of retelling.
If monsters made it in with such alacrity, did also any of the magic? How many
spells - or items, perhaps - were inspired by (or lifted from!) Anderson?
Protection from Evil, in reference to the holy circles drawn to protect
the party while it sleeps?
I'm not sure.
I am less versed in the spell lists than I am in the monsters: but an avid
reader might be able to find them where I did not - and maybe even tell me
about it!
The Expectation of a Player
Lastly - to speak to our protagonist: Holger.
Holger is a Danish-American engineer who returns to Denmark to subvert and
fight Nazi occupiers during the World War II period. During that time -
attempting to smuggle a person of interest out of the Reich's clutches, Holger
is wounded on the beach: at which point he falls out of time and into an
alternative Earth: wherein he goes on to meet fae and mythic creatures while
questing about, seeking a way home. This sort of Isekai experience may sound
familiar, reflected in the
Dungeons & Dragons animated series
as well as in the abandoned
live action movie script
Gygax had been working to produce while in Hollywood in the early 80s: but
that's another topic for another time. To instead continue on the subject of
the player, and what the original authors' expectations were of the player,
one may consider three distinct moments in
Three Hearts and Three Lions - note, spoilers to follow, but I will try
to hide them in a details panel: if the panel fails, skip ahead to the
paragraph beginning in bold with "as such."
The Thermodynamics of Dragons
Freshly betrayed by the Elf Lord, Alfric, Holger and his companions - the
dwarf and the swan maiden - are accosted by a dragon: a servant of Chaos
sent at the behest of Alfric or his ally, Morgan la Fey, to do away with
them before Holger can fulfill his purpose: known to Morgan, but unknown to
him or his allies. Hope is dim, the party convinced their adventure is at an
end... but then this happens:
In this moment of hazard, Holger thinks quickly and acts
unconventionally, saving the day with an out of the box approach. Holger knows
about boiler explosions because - based on his background as an engineer and
the timeframe in which this was said to take place, boiler explosions would
have been something he - as a person - understood. His colleagues have no way
of understanding what's going on - as boilers and the steam engines they power
have not been invented in their timeline.
In the context of the narrative - this makes sense for Holger to know.
But would, in the context of the game, a player character?
Cursed Gold
Further along their way, the party rests - out of the Fey lands - but the
Elf Lord Alfric has not yet given up - sending a Hill Giant to stalk them:
waiting for a moment of "sinful thought" to annul the protection of holy
symbols that they create or bear. When that moment comes - the Giant
attacks: however, the party - recalling the bane that fey-folk have to the
light - seek to entertain it with riddles, keeping it occupied until the
dawn turns it to stone.
In a series of silly half-riddles that result in the Giant furiously
attacking Holger, the plan succeeds and the Giant, faced with the piercing
rays of the sun, is turned to stone: leaving a treasure pile behind in his
sack. Though wary of words of a curse on Giant's gold won in such a manner,
the party begins to loot the target... until this happens:
Holger, as such, rescues the party from certain death - radiation poisoning!
Though something that was new at the time of Holger's adventure in the
1940s, a pre-atomic era (and a phenomenon barely understood even when the
book was originally released in 1961), again - Holger uses his out-of-world
(out-of-character?) knowledge to protect his companions: allowing their
journey to continue.
Magnesium Will Burn in Water
Later - nearing the end of their quest - the band crosses by a loch at the
base of a cave through which they must travel to reach the resting place of
the legendary sword, Cortana. Cross, Holger separates himself from the party
and - making himself unsavory with some equally cross thoughts - opens
himself to attack, where he is kidnapped by a Nixie. How will he escape?
Wits - and recalling a piece of equipment stolen from the Elf Lord, Alfric:
The dagger - stolen earlier in the adventure and labeled "The Dagger of
Burning" - Holger speculates to be made of magnesium based on its appearance
and alleged inflammability. With it - and under the assumption that the
ultraviolet radiation is what offends the creatures of Chaos, he puts it to
use accordingly:
Escaping certain peril - again, by his wits: wits tempered by the
perspective of a modern man, a 20th century engineer, rather than a fantasy
paladin. Arguably - in this case - it's the act of figuring out the
operation of a limited use magic item: but still - figuring out the use of
the dagger entailed knowledge of chemistry which Holger would have, but his
allies - native to the setting - would not.
As such, we find ourselves in a conundrum. In the context of the story,
it makes sense that Holger will be able to use his life experience - his
engineering background - to evade these hazards or to come up with creative
solutions. However, in the context of the game - this brings to light
an interesting concept: what Holger did, in each of these three cases, a
modern Dungeon Master would cry foul as "Metagaming!"
What does this imply of the behaviors and expectations of players over player
characters?
What does this mean for the application of player skill and the understanding
of what constitutes cheating - doing something your character would not: a
problem which is identified in the 1e Dungeon Master's Guide - compared
to what would be instead lauded a creative solution or application of talented
imagination?
A lesson - to be sure - for a new OSR player or aspiring OSR referee: in that
it indicates the solution may not be direct confrontation, that the solution
may lie in a creative alternative which nullifies the problem to begin with -
but also a point of pondering for the experienced ref: at what point does
player skill end and metagaming or cheating begin?
In 1974, perhaps, a lot farther along the scale, if Appendix N is to be
believed.
And Them's My Two Coppers
Thank you for reading! I hope, between the ten minutes prior to this line
coming to your feed and now, I've provided some context and impressed upon
you, dear reader, the significance of Three Hearts and Three Lions to
the development and implementation of the original D&D game and the OSR
experience - and provided a spur to the uninitiated to consume it, have you
not already.
Stay blessed, all - and delve on!
Open license and public domain artwork retrieved from Pixabay and OldBookIllustrations.com and adapted for thematic use. Attribution in alt text.
Three Hearts and Three Lions, written by and copyright to Poul Anderson, 1961. Images used herein taken from the Open Road Integrated Media edition, 2018 - with cover art by Jason Gabbert - all rights reserved by the publisher.
Image of Poul Anderson taken from Trader to the Stars, 1964, property of Knopf-Doubleday.
Dungeons & Dragons: Book II - Monsters & Treasure, written by Gary Gygax and Dave Arneson, as well as all content therein is copyright and trademark of Wizards of the Coast LLC, 2013.
Clerics Wear Ringmail claims no ownership of and defers all rights to the respective authors and owners of the properties referenced above. Any content or imagery used herein is used under US Code Title 17 Section 107: illustrative to and in service of criticism and commentary.