High and Low: Creative Authority in Dungeons & Dragons Modules
- Dungeoneers Guild Games
- 3 days ago
- 11 min read
This article examines how published modules affect creative authority and personalization in Dungeons & Dragons.
By R. Nelson Bailey

Published modules have existed since the early days of Dungeons & Dragons (D&D), with the first, The Temple of the Frog, appearing in the 1975 Blackmoor supplement. Since then, the number of modules has grown substantially, not only for D&D but for nearly every role-playing game system. The ubiquity of published adventures means that nearly every D&D player has likely played through one at some point, and every Dungeon Master (DM) has likely run at least one.
Published modules play an important role in D&D. They save DMs considerable work by providing a ready-made story and setting. Because much of the work is already done, a module can ideally be dropped into any campaign and readily understood by those playing it (hence the term “modular”). As with all things, modules vary in their adversaries, locales, stories, and difficulty levels. More importantly, they also differ in style and theme. Like books and films, they can be elaborate or minimalist and span a wide range of genres—horror, adventure, exploration, or whatever else one can imagine.
One reason for D&D’s enduring success lies in two features: its flexibility and its breadth. The system’s flexibility allows its rules to fit easily into almost any milieu or method of play. It also permits the removal or alteration of key elements without causing the game to collapse. If a group dislikes how Armor Class works, for example, it can be changed without fundamentally undermining the system.
Breadth is the game’s ability to accommodate a wide variety of settings, themes, play styles, and campaign structures while remaining recognizably D&D. Many role-playing games—even excellent ones—are built on relatively narrow premises and themes. A game in which all the players portray fey creatures living in an enchanted woodland, for example, may function perfectly well, yet its premise imposes limitations on the characters, setting, adversaries, and stories that can occur. Such games can be highly enjoyable, but their narrower focus often limits their appeal and adaptability. D&D, by contrast, generally tolerates substantial changes to its setting, tone, themes, adversaries, and style of play without breaking down. This breadth helps explain its enduring popularity and longevity.
Another aspect of breadth is that it fosters creativity on a scale unmatched by many other systems. A central premise of D&D is to encourage the DM to personalize the campaign by creating adventures, defining the world, and directing the course of play.
High and Low Development
Both the DM designing an adventure for a campaign and the author designing one for publication must keep these considerations in mind. However, there is another element that applies only to the author writing for publication: the degree of development the author provides for the DM to use in play. By “development” is meant the extent and completeness with which the module’s author details the story, plot, locations, personalities, motivations, dialogue, events, and other elements of the adventure prior to play. This is a distinguishing feature of published modules, as each possesses it to some degree.
Development exists on a spectrum from Low to High, with most modules falling somewhere between the two poles. Few published adventures are purely one or the other; most contain elements of both to varying degrees. Development should not be confused with the presence or absence of a story. A Low-Development module may still possess a story, plot, memorable characters, and dramatic events. The distinction lies in the degree to which the author develops these elements before play begins. (Keep in mind that “low” and “high” are descriptive terms, not value judgments about the quality of a module.)
Low Development: This type of module features generally generic characters and locations. Proper nouns are often avoided, and locations and NPCs may not have names. A location may be noted only vaguely or given a brief description, such as “in the mountains,” and likely has little or no history. Non-player characters (NPCs) and monsters have no stated motivations or backstory. Story hooks, embedded events, narrative arcs, dramatic moments, and preplanned events are sparse or absent. These modules contain few, if any, lines of dialogue for the DM to read aloud.
High Development: In this type of module, everything is self-contained. The module provides the DM with a motivation that draws the player characters (PCs) into the story, which often unfolds along a defined arc. Player characters are directed toward adventure milestones where prefabricated events, dialogue, and dramatic moments occur. NPCs and locations possess fully detailed motivations and histories that fit within the bounds of the story. Dialogue and descriptive text for the DM to read to the players are abundant.
Published Module Examples
Low Development
B2 Keep on the Borderlands
S3 Expedition to the Barrier Peaks
Mid Development
A2 Secret of the Slavers Stockade
I2 Tomb of the Lizard King
High Development
FRC2 Curse of the Azure Bonds
FRE1–3 Avatar Series
The degree to which an author wants a module to fall—a little or a lot—depends on the author’s philosophical bent about the DM’s role in the game. As with the degree of development, this also exists on a spectrum, though it is effectively the inverse: modules with little development expect a great deal of DM input, whereas highly developed modules expect little.
In this sense, the degree of development reflects the author’s view of the DM’s role. The more development provided before play, the less the DM is expected to contribute as a co-author. Conversely, Low Development modules place greater creative responsibility in the hands of the DM. Older versions of D&D, such as First Edition, were built on the assumption that this would occur. The Dungeon Master decides which monsters, character classes, and gods will be used in the game. Published campaign worlds, such as the World of Greyhawk, were presented as optional resources rather than as the assumed foundation for every campaign. Likewise, no single pantheon or cast of central NPCs was treated as essential to play.
Examples in the First Edition that tell the DM that he or she is a co-author of the game are profuse throughout the rulebooks.
Dungeon Masters Guide on the role of creativity in the game:
“This book holds much in store for you as a DM—it is your primary tool in constructing your own ‘world,’ or milieu.”
“As the creator and ultimate authority in your respective game.”
“ADVANCED D&D is more than a framework around which individual DMs construct their respective milieux; it is above all a set of boundaries for all of the ‘worlds’ devised by referees everywhere.”
And in the Players Handbook:
“This new system provides the Dungeon Master with more and better material from which to devise the campaign milieu, and that in turn means a more interesting and imaginative game for the players.”
“Despite the fact that this is a game system created by someone else, the game’s viability rests principally with the referee. The Dungeon Master must design and map out the dungeon, town, city, and world maps. He or she must populate the whole world, create its past history, and even devise some rationale for what transpired (and will probably happen).”
Deities & Demigods on DM authority:
“The DM will have to consider with care before choosing which pantheon or pantheons to use in his or her campaign. The DM should consider the flavor of the campaign. Is it medieval, ancient, oriental, or different from all of these? Which pantheon(s) will be most appropriate to the milieu?”
G1–3 Against the Giants on personalizing published modules:
“Note that this does not mean that you, the Dungeon Master, must surrender your creativity and become a mere script reader…You must supply considerable amounts of additional material. It is up to you to fill in any needed information and to color the whole and bring it to life…The script is here, but you will direct the whole, rewrite parts, and sit in final judgment on characters actions.”
And in D3 Vault of the Drow:
“This module is ideal for elaboration and extensive development by the Dungeon Master. The subject matter deserves this, and it should be done by you in order to put personality and finishing touches into a set-piece scenario which lacks the individuality particular to your campaign.”
One might conclude that Low Development corresponds to “old-school” D&D, while High Development corresponds to “modern” D&D. Certainly, most modules produced for modern versions of D&D (i.e., post-2000) fall into the “High Development” category. From my experience, many modern D&D players expect this of published modules. Those lacking these qualities—such as many older modules—are often deemed incomplete or lacking.
However, this overlooks the actual arc of module development in D&D. Many early First Edition modules were developed as tournament adventures. When published, they usually retained the tournament's story framework. It makes sense that the story, hooks, motivations, and goals of PCs and NPCs, as well as the plot itself, should be defined in a tournament module. To do otherwise would invite chaos, as different DMs running the module at a tournament could alter the scoring by failing to adhere to the script.
Some of the earliest modules that advanced the story with fleshed-out villains and hooks were the A1–4 Slavers series. These modules told the DM what the player characters’ and NPCs’ motivations were, provided a storyline to follow, and set the adventure in a defined location—the Pomarj of the World of Greyhawk. They also introduced events, including the player characters’ capture as a plot point.
After the Slavers series, the introduction of I6 Ravenloft and the Dragonlance series began shifting the pendulum toward modules with more developed elements. Stories and plots grew more intricate, adventures became tied to fixed locales, and players interacted with fixed NPCs with fully defined personalities and motivations. This trend became sufficiently pronounced that, when reviewing the Second Edition module Labyrinth of Madness—a module written in a comparatively Low-Development style—reviewer Rick Swan remarked that “call [the module’s] approach old-fashioned (or just plain old); there’s not much of a story.” This trend in published modules shifted the DM’s role from active co-creator to script moderator. The authority of the game and the module likewise began to shift from the DM to the module’s author.
Keep in mind that one of the major distinctions between Low- and High-Development modules is not the ability to alter the module’s elements. Most DMs with the inclination can add to, remove, or otherwise alter the locations, story beats, motivations, and backstory of any published module. One could take a Dragonlance module and change all of these elements to fit nearly any game world or plot imaginable.
S1 Tomb of Horrors may have many gaps for the DM to fill in, but from the perspective of someone accustomed to, or who favors, High-Development modules, it can appear half-finished, lacking story, memorable NPCs, narrative beats, and motivations beyond exploration and treasure-gathering. Yet these omissions are not necessarily defects. They are opportunities for the DM to supply what the author has chosen not to provide. (I would argue that exploration, rather than story, is the primary theme of D&D, but this is neither the time nor the place for that.)
What we are discussing, however, is the degree of ease with which this can be done. If the amount of work required to modify a High-Development module exceeds the work required to create material for a Low-Development module or for your own adventure, then it is arguably not worth the effort.
Tomb of Horrors can be tailored to nearly any campaign, placed in almost any locale, and paired with a cohesive plot for the characters and a fully fleshed-out backstory for the tomb. This is substantially easier than adapting a module like DL1 Dragons of Despair with its very world-specific plot and instigating events. One can also replace the draconians with another race, move the adventure to a different campaign world, and change the storyline. However, DL1 is easier to adapt than DL7 Dragons of Light, which is so deeply embedded in its overarching plot and so closely tied to world-specific places and characters that adapting it becomes nearly impossible—or at least not worth the time and effort.
As noted earlier, the distinction between Low- and High-Development adventures is not a matter of story versus no story. Rather, it concerns the role assigned to the DM. This distinction can be expressed as Creative Module Play versus Determined Module Play.
Creative Module Play
The essence of these types of modules in Dungeons & Dragons is, to quote Gary Gygax, “Here are the bones of the adventure. You must breathe life into this framework after you flesh it out.” These modules usually serve as a foundation for the DM to build upon and embellish according to their own tastes.
The module may have a plot, or merely the seeds of one. The DM supplies the rest, whether sparse or intricate. The absence of a fixed plot also allows a story to emerge independently of play.
The module usually does not require players to follow a specific path to complete it. Its outcome depends on how events unfold during play, and outcomes rarely follow a predetermined script.
The module can easily accommodate additions, removals, and modifications without collapsing. Flexibility is its defining trait.
The downside is that the DM must do the work. The DM is limited only by the horizons of their imagination and the effort they are willing to invest in tailoring the adventure. Some DMs might find this intimidating given the scope and time required, while others may struggle to adapt to loosely structured adventures.
Determined Module Play
These modules are much less loosely defined than creative ones.
In these adventures, the story is usually the primary focus. The author has determined its course and how it should unfold. To move the story forward, the DM follows the narrative beats, revelations, and climaxes the author has established.
Information germane to the plot is often conveyed through scripted exposition delivered by NPCs. Theme, pacing, and narrative delivery are emphasized. Because of the tight plotting, few story elements can be removed or altered without negatively affecting the story.
Players experience scripted dramatic moments and typically work within the module's established framework. This clearly benefits DMs who prefer clear paths and either lack the time or the wherewithal to extensively personalize a module.
What is key about Low- and High-Development modules is that the latter subtly reduces the DM’s creative role. This happens by filling in the gaps that would otherwise offer the DM opportunities to personalize a module. Instead, the module author has already completed much of that work. As a result, the DM is diminished as a co-author and relegated to a script moderator and manager of someone else’s vision. It marks a significant shift in the game’s underlying philosophy, and I believe the game is poorer for it. Some of the game’s most celebrated modules—Keep on the Borderlands, Against the Giants, and Tomb of Horrors—are written in the looser Low-Development style.
Conclusion
The distinction between high and low development is offered to the reader to highlight the philosophical underpinnings of published module design. It is not a dictate that one must follow (“thou shalt ...”). However, it behooves authors to be mindful of these factors and to recognize that what works for some does not work for others.
I will offer an assessment: for those who value DM authority and creativity, Low- to Mid-Development published modules are the most effective. Higher-development modules function as a straitjacket upon these qualities. In my view, these modules are more interesting than High-Development adventures that explain everything and fill in all the gaps. Arguably, they are more memorable for that very reason: the gaps where details are sketchy leave room for the imagination and creativity of both the DM and the players. What is omitted becomes as important as what is provided.
Dungeons & Dragons is a game of creativity and imagination. If modules are the vehicles for the game, without these elements, the player and DM alike become passengers in someone else’s vision and story. While that story may be exciting, like a roller coaster, you are locked onto a single track. When it ends, the thrill is fleeting.
Creativity and imagination are often maddeningly formless, elusive, and messy. When these elements come together, they are rewarding in ways few other experiences can match. In this regard, D&D resembles improvisational art: the framework may be provided, but the performance itself is an act of creation.




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