Hey Stat Rollers! Bill with Roll Stats! Today we’re looking at a book that’s more than just a set of rules—it’s a snapshot of a pivotal moment in RPG history. Holmes Basic D&D!

This little blue rulebook, edited by Dr. Eric Holmes and published by TSR Hobbies, Inc. in 1977, is the bridge between the chaotic wild west of OD&D and the more structured editions that followed. Holmes Basic is a product of chaos and order, a bridge between worlds. It remains one of the most fascinating iterations of the game because of that.

Holmes himself was a passionate gamer and a science fiction writer, and you can feel that creative energy running through the book. Unlike the original Dungeons & Dragons booklets from 1974, which often felt like an incomplete set of notes rather than a finished game, Holmes Basic takes the core of OD&D and polishes it just enough to make it accessible. But it does this without losing the sense of mystery, danger, and open-ended adventure that makes old-school play so exciting.

When you flip through the pages of Holmes Basic, you can see the DNA of every edition of D&D that followed. It introduces concepts that would become mainstays of the game while still holding onto the strange and experimental qualities of the original rules. It has its quirks, of course—some inherited from OD&D, some unique to Holmes’ interpretation—but those quirks make it feel alive. Unlike later editions that tried to create airtight, fully balanced systems, Holmes Basic embraces flexibility, mystery, and the idea that the referee’s rulings matter more than the rules themselves.

So, let’s dive in and take a closer look at what makes Holmes Basic such a fascinating and enduring piece of D&D history. We’ll explore what works, what doesn’t, and why this little blue book still holds a special place in the hearts of TSR fans today.

Introduction and Presentation

One of the first things that stands out about Holmes Basic is how concise and straightforward it is—at least by the standards of 1970s game design. If you’ve ever flipped through the original Dungeons & Dragons booklets from 1974, you know they weren’t exactly user-friendly. They were dense, sometimes contradictory, and assumed a certain familiarity with wargaming that many new players simply didn’t have. On the other hand, Holmes Basic is more precise and more structured, and it makes an effort to explain what D&D is all about.

From the beginning, Holmes emphasizes that this is a game of imagination. It’s not about strict mechanics, character builds, or balanced encounters—it’s about exploration, adventure, and creativity. The introduction makes it clear that the rules aren’t the game itself; they’re just a framework. The real magic happens at the table through the players’ decisions and the DM’s ability to bring the world to life. Even today, when so many RPGs are hyper-focused on mechanical balance and character optimization, this freeform, open-ended approach feels refreshing.

One of the most interesting things about Holmes Basic is that it was never meant to be a complete, standalone system. Unlike later iterations of Basic D&D, like the Moldvay/Cook B/X set or the BECMI series, Holmes was always intended to be a stepping stone to Advanced Dungeons & Dragons. That’s why it feels different from both OD&D before it and B/X after it. The rules are streamlined and accessible, designed to get new players into the game quickly, but they also leave plenty of gaps—gaps meant to be filled in when you transitioned to AD&D. But the thing is, some groups never made that jump. They transitioned to Moldvay B/X or BECMI, just filling in the blanks with house rules and personal rulings, precisely how D&D was meant to be played in the first place.

Another thing I appreciate about this edition is the balance it strikes between wargaming traditions and emerging RPG storytelling. Holmes Basic encourages miniatures, but it doesn’t make them mandatory. This is important because, at the time, D&D was still closely tied to its wargaming roots. Gary Gygax and Dave Arneson had created OD&D as an offshoot of tabletop wargames, and many early players approached the game from that perspective. Miniatures and battle maps were often used, and combat was considered a tactical challenge. But by the late 1970s, the hobby was evolving, and more players were starting to embrace the role-playing and storytelling aspects of the game.

Holmes Basic recognizes this shift. It keeps combat tactical but allows for a more freeform approach, where the referee and players can describe actions narratively rather than relying solely on movement grids and measurements.

This balance between structured play and open-ended storytelling is one of the things that makes Holmes Basic such a fascinating piece of RPG history. It’s a game that still holds onto the old ways but already considers what tabletop RPGs would become. It’s light enough to encourage creativity but still grounded in enough structure to make it approachable. For new players in 1977, this was the perfect gateway into the world of D&D, and for OSR enthusiasts today, it remains one of the purest expressions of what early D&D was all about.

Character Creation

Rolling up a character in Holmes Basic is refreshingly quick and to the point. There are no long, drawn-out choices, no deliberating over builds, no point-buy systems or ability score adjustments that let you min-max your way into an optimized hero. You grab three six-sided dice, roll them six times, and assign those numbers to Strength, Intelligence, Wisdom, Constitution, Dexterity, and Charisma—in that exact order. What you roll is what you get. If you end up with a weak Magic User or a clumsy Fighter, that’s just part of the adventure. You’re not creating a hero; you’re making a person, and how that person survives (or doesn’t) in the dangerous world of the game is where the real fun begins.

Right away, you can see the DNA of Original D&D still at work here. Holmes Basic doesn’t try to reinvent the wheel—it simply cleans up and presents OD&D’s character creation process in a more straightforward, more structured way. One interesting shift is that Holmes introduces the idea of trading ability score points to tailor your character. It’s a sign that Holmes was looking for a way to bridge the gap between rigid randomness and player agency. He wanted to preserve the fast, roll-and-go approach while allowing for some customization without opening the door to full-blown character optimization.

Regarding character classes, Holmes sticks with the core four: Fighting Men, Magic-Users, Clerics, and Thieves. Later Basic editions would expand this list, but this streamlined selection keeps things simple. Fighting Men are your straightforward warriors, built to survive the front lines and take the brunt of the damage. Magic-Users are glass cannons, fragile but capable of game-changing spells if they can survive long enough to cast them. Clerics are the divine warriors of the party, but in one of the weirdest holdovers from OD&D, they don’t get spells at level 1. That means your newly rolled Cleric must survive at least one dungeon delve before they can cast Cure Light Wounds. It always felt like an odd rule to me, even when it carried over to Moldvay B/X, but at the same time, it reinforces the idea that early D&D is about grit and survival—you don’t start out as a competent hero; you have to earn it.

One of the most significant changes from OD&D is including the Thief as a core class. In OD&D, Thieves didn’t even exist in the original game—they were introduced later as part of the Greyhawk supplement. But by the time Holmes wrote this rulebook, Thieves had become popular enough that he baked them directly into the system. This is a significant shift because it redefines how dungeon exploration works. Before Thieves, every character was expected to find traps, move stealthily, and pick locks purely based on creative thinking and player descriptions. If a door was locked, the Magic-User might use a spell, the Fighter might bash it down, or the players might devise a creative workaround. With the Thief class, however, these tasks become specialized skills tied to percentile rolls rather than freeform problem-solving. It’s a fascinating moment in D&D history, and you can still see the divide today between those who prefer creative thinking and player description resolutions and those who like the structure of the class-based skill system.

Holmes also made some interesting decisions when it came to non-human characters. Unlike later Basic sets, where races and classes were merged (Elves were Elf-class, Dwarves were Dwarf-class, etc.), Holmes still follows the OD&D tradition of separate race and class—but with some significant restrictions. Dwarves and Halflings can only be Fighters, which locks them into a pretty straightforward role. Elves, on the other hand, can multi-class as Fighters and Magic-Users, but they progress more slowly to balance out the advantage of being able to fight and cast spells simultaneously. There’s no mention of Half-Orcs, Gnomes, or Half-Elves—those would remain the domain of AD&D.

Holmes was trying to bring some order to the chaotic mishmash of OD&D without stripping away too much of the original game’s wild creativity. He refines the rules, organizes them, and clarifies them, but he never goes as far as locking things down into a rigid system. There are still plenty of open-ended areas where DMs are expected to make rulings, and players are encouraged to work with what they roll instead of meticulously designing a character. This mix of structure and flexibility is what makes Holmes Basic such a fascinating edition—it’s an attempt to clean up OD&D without losing the DIY, make-it-your-own ethos that defined those early years of the game.

Equipment and Gold in Holmes Basic D&D

Once characters are rolled up, it’s time to outfit them for adventure, and this is where Holmes Basic leans hard into its wargaming roots. There’s no starting package, no pre-selected gear lists tailored for each class. Instead, you roll your starting gold and go shopping, just like in Original D&D. The equipment list is pure, no-nonsense adventuring pragmatism—weapons, armor, torches, rations, and the kind of dungeon-crawling essentials that make the difference between surviving a delve and dying in the dark.

Right away, this phase of the game forces players to think tactically. There’s no guarantee that you’ll have enough gold for everything you want, so you have to prioritize. Do you buy the best armor you can afford, sacrificing utility items like rope and torches? Do you go for a solid weapon, or do you take a cheaper option and save money for a shield? Encumbrance matters, too, so players can’t just load up on every possible piece of gear—every item is a trade-off, and every gold piece counts.

And speaking of gold, here’s where Holmes Basic leans fully into one of the most defining mechanics of classic D&D: gold equals experience. In this system, you don’t gain XP from killing monsters. Sure, fighting is part of the game, but the real path to power is treasure. If you want to level up, you need to get rich. Every gold piece recovered from a dungeon and safely brought back to civilization translates directly into experience points. This creates a completely different mindset compared to later editions where XP is primarily earned through combat. In Holmes Basic, fighting is often a means to an end, not the goal itself. If you can trick, sneak past, or negotiate with a monster and still get the treasure, that XP is yours—without having to risk death in a pointless fight.

Holmes doesn’t go into exhaustive detail about how XP should be split, but the implication is clear. The party works together to recover treasure, and the XP is divided among those who helped. This naturally encourages cooperation and creative problem-solving. There’s no incentive to grind through combat just for the sake of it. Instead, players are encouraged to plan, strategize, and think like true adventurers. How do you get in, grab the loot, and get out alive? That’s the real challenge.

This approach to XP is something I absolutely love about classic D&D. It shifts the focus from endless battles to exploration, clever thinking, and risk management. It turns dungeons into dangerous but rewarding puzzles rather than combat arenas. Every decision—whether it’s choosing which gear to buy, how to approach a potential fight, or when to cut your losses and retreat—is shaped by the understanding that your real goal is treasure, not body counts.

Dungeon Delving in Holmes Basic D&D

Exploring a dungeon in Holmes Basic is a deliberate, methodical process. This isn’t the fast-paced, room-clearing action of modern RPGs. Movement is measured in turns, and every action takes time. If the players rush ahead without thinking, they’ll quickly find themselves overwhelmed. Wandering monster checks keep them on their toes, ensuring that dawdling around or arguing over what to do next can be just as dangerous as triggering a trap. You can’t just sit around in a dungeon discussing tactics for an hour—something will come looking for you.

Even something as simple as opening a door can be a challenge in Holmes Basic. Not every dungeon door swings open with ease—some are stuck, locked, or outright barred. Only Fighters can force doors open, reinforcing their role as the muscle of the party. If the party lacks a Fighter, they’ll need to get creative. That’s one of the great things about Holmes Basic—it rewards players who think like adventurers, coming up with clever solutions instead of relying on ability rolls.

Traps and secret doors follow the same philosophy. There’s no Perception check to roll, no passive skill that automatically detects hidden dangers. If players want to find something, they have to describe how they search. That means poking at floor tiles, tapping on walls for hollow spaces, checking the bases of statues for loose bricks. The DM listens to what the players say and determines what they find. This approach forces engagement with the world rather than just letting the dice do the work. There’s no hand-holding here—if the players don’t take the time to investigate, they’re going to miss things. And when they trigger a trap because they didn’t think to check for it, that’s on them.

Everything about the dungeon in Holmes Basic is a tense, logistical puzzle. Every torch counts. Every ration matters. Mapping is essential, because getting lost in a dungeon is just as deadly as any monster. The game doesn’t care if the party is under-leveled or under-equipped—it’s up to them to know when to push forward and when to turn back. Survival isn’t guaranteed, and there’s a real sense of danger to every delve. That’s what makes this style of play so compelling. It’s not about winning, it’s about making smart choices and overcoming obstacles through planning, teamwork, and a bit of luck.

Magic in Holmes Basic D&D

Magic in Holmes Basic follows the classic Vancian spellcasting system, meaning a Magic-User memorizes their spells at the start of the day and, once they’re cast, they’re gone until the next day. If you’re familiar with later editions of D&D, you know this system has been around for a long time, but in Holmes Basic, it’s at its most raw and unforgiving. A first-level Magic-User gets exactly one spell per day. That’s it. Once they cast it, they’re reduced to waving a dagger around and hoping they don’t get hit. Magic-Users are fragile, with low hit points and terrible combat abilities, but their spells can completely shift the tide of an encounter—if they survive long enough to cast them.

At this level of play, spell choice is everything, and nothing defines first-level spellcasting more than Sleep. This spell is the tactical nuke of low-level D&D. It doesn’t allow for a saving throw, it just knocks out an entire group of low-HD creatures instantly. Goblins? Gone. Bandits? Out cold. Even a pack of ogres could be neutralized if the dice roll high enough. When a Magic-User casts Sleep, the whole table holds its breath, because this one spell can completely change the course of an adventure. But once it’s gone, the Magic-User is a liability, and the party had better find a way to keep them alive until they can rest and prepare it again.

Holmes Basic also leans into spell acquisition as part of the adventure, rather than just handing out new spells when a Magic-User levels up. There’s an expectation that spellcasters will be out in the world searching for magic, whether that means looting ancient tomes, bargaining with rival wizards, or stealing spells from fallen enemies. This approach makes magic feel more like a rare and valuable resource, rather than just another ability that levels up with the character. Finding a new spellbook or scroll is a big deal—it’s not just a mechanical upgrade, it’s a reward for exploration and risk-taking.

This also reinforces the idea that magic is dangerous and mysterious. Unlike later editions where spells are categorized, balanced, and neatly organized, the magic of Holmes Basic feels more like forbidden knowledge that has to be uncovered. Spells aren’t just given to Magic-Users; they have to earn them through play. This means that even though a first-level Magic-User starts off incredibly weak, the process of discovering and collecting spells feels like part of the adventure, not just a routine advancement mechanic.

Ultimately, the magic system in Holmes Basic is challenging but rewarding. It forces players to think carefully about when and how to use their spells, since they won’t have many chances. But when they do cast them, spells have real weight and impact. This version of magic isn’t about endless spell slots or rechargeable abilities—it’s about strategy, risk, and the thrill of unlocking arcane power. If you play a Magic-User in Holmes Basic, you’re not just another class with a different combat style—you’re a glass cannon, a scholar of the arcane, and a treasure hunter all rolled into one. Every spell is precious, and every decision about when to cast is a gamble that could save the party or leave you defenseless. And that’s exactly how it should be.

Combat in Holmes Basic D&D

Combat in Holmes Basic is exactly what you would expect an old-school fight to be—fast, brutal, and stripped down to the essentials. There’s no bloated initiative order, no long lists of feats, no spending half the session calculating attack modifiers and damage bonuses. Instead, it’s quick, decisive, and just dangerous enough to make you think twice before drawing steel.

Initiative is beautifully simple. Each side rolls a single d6, and whoever rolls higher goes first—everybody on that side moves and acts before the other group does. No Dexterity modifiers, no rolling individual initiative for every combatant, just team-based tactics and a bit of luck. It speeds things up tremendously, cutting out the slowest part of combat in many later editions. The downside? It makes combat feel a little chaotic and unpredictable, but honestly, that’s exactly the vibe an old-school dungeon crawl should have. When the dice hit the table, anything can happen.

And then there’s the infamous d6 damage rule. In Holmes Basic, every weapon deals a flat d6 damage, whether you’re swinging a dagger or a greatsword. This is one of those rules that really splits the table. Some people love it because it keeps things fast and deadly, ensuring that combat stays streamlined rather than getting bogged down in number crunching. Others hate it because it makes weapon choice feel meaningless—why carry a battle axe if it does the same damage as a club? Personally, I hate it. I get that fights in this game aren’t about individual weapon stats, they’re about positioning, resource management, and smart decision-making. But, at the same time, how can a battleaxe do the same damage as a dagger? It breaks the verisimilitude for me.

The lethality of combat also makes morale a key part of the game. Monsters aren’t just mindless bags of hit points waiting to be carved up—they’re living creatures, and many of them don’t want to fight to the death. If a fight starts turning against them, they might flee, surrender, or bargain for their lives. This makes every encounter feel a little different, because sometimes the best move isn’t to kill everything in sight, but to intimidate, outmaneuver, or otherwise avoid a drawn-out fight altogether.

Monster stats follow the same philosophy of elegant simplicity. A monster’s Hit Dice determines almost everything—how many hit points they have, how hard they hit, and even how good they are at saving throws. The referee doesn’t have to juggle dozens of different stats or cross-reference multiple tables. If you know a monster’s Hit Dice, you can run it on the fly with almost no prep.

This entire system reinforces the old-school mantra of “rulings over rules.” The game gives you just enough structure to resolve combat quickly, but it doesn’t lock you into a rigid system that dictates exactly how every fight must play out. The DM has the freedom to interpret actions, resolve conflicts on the fly, and make calls based on the narrative rather than getting bogged down in a sea of mechanics. If a player wants to swing from a chandelier and land on an orc with both boots, there’s no official rule for that—but the DM can make a quick ruling and keep the action moving.

The bottom line? Combat in Holmes Basic is fast, deadly, and unpredictable, and that’s good. It doesn’t try to be a tactical miniatures game. It doesn’t bog down in endless modifiers. It just throws you into the chaos of battle and forces you to think on your feet. But it can be one-dimensional, especially if you’re out of spells, and truth be told it’s often best to avoid combat if and when you can.

Monsters in Holmes Basic D&D

The monsters section in Holmes Basic is a wonderful blend of simplicity, danger, and classic D&D weirdness. It doesn’t waste time with bloated stat blocks or excessive mechanics; instead, it gives you just enough to run encounters quickly while leaving plenty of room for rulings over rules. The monster entries are tight, efficient, and to the point—just like the rest of the system. This is the purest form of running monsters in old-school play. You don’t need a page full of abilities and conditions to track; you just need Hit Dice, Armor Class, damage, movement, and a couple of notes on special abilities.

The way monsters are presented in Holmes Basic reinforces the DM’s role as an active participant in the game rather than a rule-following automaton. This book isn’t here to tell you exactly how to run every encounter, it’s here to give you the tools and then trust you to use them well. The descriptions are brief, often just a sentence or two, and there’s an expectation that you, as the DM, will bring these creatures to life at the table. It’s the kind of game design that encourages creativity and improvisation, something that later editions of D&D often struggle with as they pile on mechanics and rigid encounter guidelines.

One of my favorite things about the monsters in Holmes Basic is how dangerous they feel. Even low-level creatures can pose a serious threat, and there’s a real sense that the dungeon is a hostile place, not a balanced battleground. Holmes Basic assumes that players won’t win every fight, and it doesn’t expect them to try. This ties back to the core design philosophy of early D&D—combat is not the goal, survival is. A smart party will outthink monsters, trick them, flee when needed, and fight only when they have the upper hand. The monsters themselves aren’t balanced around the players’ level. If you stumble into a group of ogres or a wandering basilisk at first level, that’s just how it is. The world isn’t going to adjust itself to make sure you have a fair fight.

The sheer variety of creatures packed into these pages is impressive. You’ve got the classics—goblins, orcs, skeletons, ogres, dragons—but also some wonderfully weird entries like the carrion crawler, the black pudding, and the gelatinous cube. These monsters feel distinctly old-school, drawn from pulp fantasy, mythology, and the early wargaming roots of D&D. There’s a mix of mundane and supernatural threats, and while some of these creatures would become staples in later editions, here they feel raw and untamed.

Special abilities are handled in the simplest way possible—instead of defining things with strict mechanics, the game describes what happens and lets the referee make judgment calls. A cockatrice can turn you to stone, but it doesn’t bog down the game with specific rules on saving throws or durations. It’s all very to-the-point, which makes it easy to run while keeping things open-ended enough for rulings. Poisonous creatures like giant spiders and wyverns are just instant death if you fail your saving throw, which reinforces that sense of high-stakes danger that defines classic dungeon crawls. This isn’t a game where you get poisoned and just take a little damage over time—you either save or you die, and that’s not for everyone, but it is what makes old-school D&D so exciting.

The treasure tables included with the monsters are another important part of the game’s design. Since Holmes Basic follows the gold-for-XP model, monsters aren’t just obstacles—they’re potential sources of wealth and experience. But not all of them are worth fighting. The strongest monsters guard the best treasure, so players have to decide if the risk is worth the reward. A party that dives into combat blindly will likely end up dead, but a party that outsmarts the dungeon, takes calculated risks, and picks its battles carefully will come out on top.

Overall, the monsters section in Holmes Basic strips away the excess, leaving behind only what is necessary to bring these creatures to life at the table. Every monster is a potential threat, a puzzle to solve, and a force to be reckoned with. Running them feels natural and intuitive, and because the mechanics are so light, the referee has the freedom to focus on making the dungeon feel alive rather than getting bogged down in rules. This section captures everything great about early D&D—it’s dangerous, unpredictable, and open-ended in the best way possible.

DM Advice in Holmes Basic D&D

Before the players can plunge into mist-shrouded dungeons in search of treasure and adventure, the Dungeon Master has to put in some work. This is old-school gaming, which means no pre-packaged modules or pre-generated content unless you make it yourself. You’re expected to grab some graph paper, sit down with a pencil, and start building a dungeon from scratch. It’s part art, part science, and all about creating a space that feels dangerous, unpredictable, and full of possibilities.

A well-designed dungeon isn’t just a bunch of rooms connected by hallways. It needs multiple levels with paths leading up and down, secret passages, and interlocking spaces that encourage exploration and discovery. There should be hidden doors, traps, and surprises waiting for those brave (or foolish) enough to poke around. The dungeon should reward curiosity while punishing carelessness, making players feel like they’re navigating a puzzle as much as they are a physical space.

Holmes Basic encourages a mix of structured planning and randomness. Major set-piece encounters—key treasures, unique monsters, or magical artifacts—should be placed deliberately. But the rest? Roll for it. The game suggests rolling a d6 for each room, with a result of 1 or 2 indicating a monster. Slimes, jellies, and puddings are commonly found lurking in corridors, making even seemingly empty passageways dangerous. Wandering monsters add another layer of unpredictability, ensuring that the dungeon doesn’t feel static. Just because a room was empty when the players first passed through doesn’t mean it will be empty when they come back.

Traps are another critical part of dungeon design, but this isn’t about “Gotcha!” moments where players are instantly killed. The best traps telegraph danger and invite interaction. A shallow pit might deal minor damage but delay the party long enough for wandering monsters to find them. A suspiciously untouched room could hide a deadly illusion or a teleportation trap leading somewhere far worse. The goal is to make the players think before they act. If they blindly rush forward, they’ll suffer for it, but if they take their time, they might be able to avoid or even use these traps to their advantage.

But the real heart of dungeon design is imagination. There are no limits beyond what the DM can dream up. Rooms might shift and change, walls might move, portals could lead to strange places, and encounters might be more than just fights. This is where Holmes’ philosophy really shines: the best dungeons feel alive, reacting to the players and existing as more than just a static environment. And, as the game reminds us, death should always be a real possibility—but so should victory. The players must feel like they can survive if they play smart, take risks wisely, and use every tool at their disposal.

Once the game starts, pacing is everything. The DM’s job isn’t just to referee the rules—it’s to keep the tension high and the world immersive. If things start dragging, throw in an encounter, describe an eerie sound from deeper in the dungeon, or hint at some hidden danger just out of sight. The players should always feel like they’re one bad decision away from disaster. And if they need to flee? Let them. The game doesn’t punish running away—it encourages it. Survival is the real victory in Holmes Basic, not just killing everything in sight.

One of the best pieces of advice in Holmes Basic is to lean into roleplaying. Orcs should be gruff and brutish, knights should be flowery and dramatic, and when characters swear, they should call upon their gods—whether it’s Zeus, Crom, or some eldritch horror. The DM is encouraged to bring the world to life through speech, tone, and atmosphere. This isn’t a game of silent dice rolling—it’s about telling a story together, where every voice, decision, and unexpected twist adds to the experience.

Mapping is another key part of the game. The players are expected to map the dungeon as they explore, based on the DM’s descriptions. This means they need to listen carefully, make decisions about where to go, and avoid getting lost in twisting corridors. The game even suggests assigning specific roles—one player keeps a log of monsters fought and treasure found, another acts as the party’s caller, relaying decisions to the DM. This keeps the action organized and reinforces the feeling of a team navigating an unfamiliar and deadly place.

The dungeon doesn’t care if they survive or not. If they die, their bones will join those of the many who came before them. If they succeed, they’ll emerge battered, richer, and a little wiser, ready for the next dive into the unknown. This is classic old-school play at its best, and it’s why Holmes Basic still holds up as a fantastic introduction to the unforgiving beauty of dungeon crawling.

Sample Dungeon: The Ruined Tower of Zenopus

The sample adventure, The Ruined Tower of Zenopus, is a perfect introduction to classic dungeon crawling. The backstory is simple yet evocative: a wizard built a tower on a hill overlooking the city of Portown, right next to the graveyard. He delved deep into the ruins of an older civilization, searching for forgotten treasures and knowledge. Then, one fateful night, the tower erupted in green flame, and Zenopus was never seen again. In the years that followed, eerie lights flickered in the ruins, ghostly screams echoed through the night, and strange figures were seen dancing on the rooftop under the moonlight. Eventually, the townsfolk had enough and leveled the tower with catapults, leaving nothing but rubble and an ominous stairway leading into the darkness below. The entrance to the dungeon remains, but those who have dared to explore it have either returned empty-handed or never returned at all.

That’s a fantastic setup for an adventure. It hits all the right notes—mystery, danger, and the promise of treasure just waiting to be plundered. The dungeon sits at the crossroads of multiple sources of supernatural menace—it’s near an ancient prehuman city, the graveyard, and the sea, giving the DM a wealth of inspiration for strange and terrifying encounters. This isn’t just a random collection of rooms and monsters. It’s a location with a story, a place with a sense of history and mystery that begs to be explored.

Portown itself is described as a bustling trade hub, where caravans from the south meet merchants who brave the pirate-infested waters of the Northern Sea. It’s a perfect starting location for a campaign, a place where adventurers from all backgrounds can cross paths, form alliances, and set out on their first foray into the unknown. The Green Dragon Inn serves as the classic meeting place, where players can gather their characters, hire henchmen, and make their plans before venturing beneath the ruins. There’s even a suggestion for solo play—if only one player is heading into the dungeon, they should hire a few men-at-arms to watch their back. This highlights a key difference between old-school and modern play: going into a dungeon alone is suicide. A well-rounded party, or at least a few hired swords, is crucial to survival.

Once the players descend, the adventure truly begins. The dungeon starts twenty-five feet below ground, at a marked starting location, and from there, it’s all up to them. Where do they go? How do they handle encounters? Do they play it safe or push deeper? This dungeon, like all good old-school dungeons, isn’t about a linear story or a series of pre-planned encounters—it’s about exploration, discovery, and player-driven action. The world doesn’t wait for the players; it reacts to their choices.

What makes this sample dungeon so effective is that it doesn’t just introduce mechanics—it teaches new players how the game is meant to be played. It shows that dungeons are not fair battlegrounds; they are living, dangerous places where survival is never guaranteed. It teaches that good play means planning, caution, and knowing when to run. It reinforces that combat is not always the best option, that traps are not always obvious, and that treasures come with risks. And above all, it captures the sheer excitement of stepping into the unknown, not knowing what’s around the next corner, but pushing forward anyway. That’s the magic of Holmes Basic, and this dungeon is a perfect example of why old-school D&D is still so compelling today.

Final Verdict on Holmes Basic D&D

Holmes Basic isn’t just an introduction to D&D—it’s a full experience in itself. It captures everything that makes early dungeon crawling so compelling. The thrill of discovery, the looming danger around every corner, the meticulous resource management, and the constant feeling that your party is one bad decision away from disaster. It distills all of that into a straightforward and approachable format, making it one of the best ways to understand the roots of the game.

There’s something special about its rawness. Later versions of Basic D&D, like Moldvay’s B/X, would refine and streamline the experience even further, but Holmes still retains that wild, experimental energy of early D&D. It sits at this unique crossroads where you can still see the DNA of OD&D while also getting a taste of the more structured approach that would come later. It’s a little messy at times, with mechanics that feel half-formed or caught between two editions, but that’s part of what makes it so endearing. You can see Holmes wrestling with the best way to introduce the game to new players while still keeping the sense of wonder and open-ended play intact.

And despite its quirks, it still plays beautifully. If you want a fast, deadly, exploration-driven game that rewards player creativity and smart decision-making over mechanical optimization, Holmes Basic delivers. It’s simple to run, lethal in all the right ways, and makes every delve into the dungeon feel like a real adventure rather than just a series of encounters. The fact that it’s designed as a bridge to AD&D means it doesn’t feel the need to be a fully self-contained system, which in turn allows it to keep things loose and flexible.

It’s a game that invites house rules, improvisation, and interpretation—just like the earliest days of the hobby. There’s no one “right” way to play it, and that’s the magic of old-school D&D. Holmes Basic is a blue-box time capsule of what made early D&D so incredible, and even decades later, it’s absolutely worth playing.

But I want to know what you think! Drop a comment below and let me know what you think of Holmes Basic D&D. Do you own it? Have you played it? Have you run it? What did YOU think? Let me know!

Alright, that’s a wrap for today, stat-rollers! Until next time, grab your dice, keep your lantern burning, and tread carefully—Holmes Basic may lead you deep into forgotten dungeons, but the real challenge is making it back out alive. And as always—may the dice roll ever in your favor.

Affiliate Disclosure: This post contains affiliate links. I earn from qualifying purchases, and by purchasing any products via the links in this blog post I may earn a small commission or store credit (used to purchase new books, supplements, and accessories for review on this blog) with no additional cost to you. Thanks for your support!