What thoughts do the word “adventure” conjure up in the fervent
D&Der’s mind?

Dark, dismal dungeons and labyrinthine caves where unknown
horrors and cruel traps lurk behind every turn?

Bleak, stark wilderness where the valiant hero must battle both
ferocious monsters and the indomitable elements?

The eerie light of an immortal blade as it is drawn from its jeweled
scabbard in the glittering starlight?

The spark of a cloven helm as another headless orc falls onto the
growing heap of corpses? The searing crackle and blinding flash as a
lethal bolt springs from the wizard’s outstretched, commanding palm?
The roar of the immense dragon’s flaming jaws as it meets the strong,
steadfast crusader’s challenge?

Surely, “adventure” has nothing to do with the commonplace
streets and alleys of a town, right?

WRONG!!

It is by treating cities as bland stopovers that many D&Ders, players
and DM’s alike, allow a potentially exciting part of their campaigns to
fade out. Those fortunate enough to have participated in, or even to
have witnessed, a really well-done urban adventure will know what I’m
talking about. To the rest my comment is this: You don’t know what
you’re missing.

No matter how commonplace they may seem, towns have many
advantages which neither dungeons nor wildernesses possess. For
example, in the latter two, unless the DM is clever to the point of cruelty,
many PC’s fall into a fireball, arrows, slash, hack, get-the-treasure
routine, and the game actually becomes monotonous (Heaven forbid!).
While gaining experience, treasure, and all the accruing benefits,
the character hasn’t really progressed since first level, because the
player hasn’t changed since he first rolled up his alterego’s attributes.
The character is two-dimensional and as devoid of personality as the
peasants he passes in the fields. This is a real tragedy, because the
whole point of D&D has been missed; not to be a mechanical sword
seeking only E.P. and GP, but to be a living, breathing, feeling part of
the world of our dreams.

On the other hand, nowhere is the medium for the development of
a character’s personality richer than in a town. It is interaction with
other humanoids on a more or less non-hostile basis which affords the
best opportunity for self-expression. A “routine” is impossible because
players never know exactly what is going to happen next. Also, don’t
think for a moment that urban life in D&D is placid. An incautious
character might very well find himself dumped in an alley with a knife in
his back.

One important aspect of a character’s potential for survival and
success in a city is, as always, his profession. I have found that thieves
and assassins are the most successful types, or at least the most fun.
Being a rather non-violent person (What’s this? A pacifist playing
D&D?!), I prefer the former. I feel that thieves stand to gain a great deal
more than assassins monetarily, while risking less in terms of the
performance of their class functions and the remonstrances of an angry
guild. After all, assassins’ guilds tend to be rather violent. More grisly
adventurers may disagree on the grounds that assassins can more
readily defend themselves and the fact that greater challenges usually
face a murderer than a rogue.

In either case, illicit characters stand the best chance of getting rich
quick. Of course, they must face the retribution of the law should they
be caught in the act, but often more dangerous is the aforementioned
local guild. If a character does not belong to the guild, he may be
persecuted for muscling in on its racket, and if he should reach the point
when he could become guildmaster himself, a vicious war may result.
The ensuing violent intrigue is something which no gamer should miss,
and it makes the character’s and DM’s lives all the more interesting.

The best possibilities for a beginning fighter lie in hiring himself out
as a merchant’s caravan guard or other mercenary warrior, for, unfortunately,
little is to be had by the independent warrior in the city, and
unless he teams up with other characters (such as thieves who want
muscle), he will soon find himself going broke and joining the army, if
there is one.

Last, but not least, are magic-users and clerics. I deal with them
jointly because they alone share the ability to cast spells at low levels. As
with thieves and assassins, the best chance these types have lies in using
their powers in unsavory ways, so evil characters generally fare best in
the city.

Of course, to achieve a good urban adventure, one must be willing
to put forth the necessary effort. It falls to the DM to come up with
interesting, original ideas and properly apply them to his design. Sure,
it’s a lot of work, but the age-old axiom applies to D&D so well: You
only get out of it what you put into it.

If the DM is having trouble designing a town, or if he wants to make
a substantial addition to his campaign’s urban environment, he should
by all means get the Judges Guild’s City State of the Invincible Overlord.
The City State is a truly admirable achievement. Giving away any
specifics about it would be a crime of the worst kind, but let it suffice to
say that this product is excellent for its sheer enormity and diversity. A
character could spend years exploring the city itself, let alone the mines,
graveyards, and forests that surround it and the dungeons beneath it,
and if a PC is bored for a minute it is only because he lacks curiosity.
Perhaps the best part is that most of the accompanying guidelines can
be applied to other D&D towns. However, I strongly suggest that the
DM should not let the presence of the City State dissuade him from the
rewarding effort of designing his own city.

Drive is just as important for PCs, but in their cases it should be in
the form of ambition, for it is the character who tries to get ahead
(perhaps by assassinating the Guildmaster) who makes the game
interesting, not the one who is content to be a nobody.

Eloquence and tact become essential, because without friends
(preferably in high places), a character will not get far. The importance
of having someone you can count on for help in a crisis cannot be
overstressed. Players must also make an effort to control the violent
reflexes they have developed in wilderness or dungeons. Believe it or
not, I have seen good characters ruin their chances of success by being
too free with their blades. Unless the city in which your campaign is
located is a political anarchy without law enforcement, you can’t go
down the street slashing right and left.

This song of the praises of urban D&D is not so bold as to imply that
this type of adventuring should occupy an unduly large part of a
D&Der’s playing time. On the contrary, too much town is bad for
anyone, and a careful balance among wilderness, city and dungeon is
the only way to ensure that a character’s career will be filled with
exciting challenges.