[old and new D&D] Moreno and the D&D Orthdox Catholic Communion

[Mike Holmes]

I've made the personal disclosure about faith to make precisely the point that you quoted. Or, rather, the larger point that RPGs are religion. Or close enough. Other religions worried about D&D precisely to the extent that they felt that this was a cult.

The importance of recognizing this kinship with religion comes in the understanding of why people are so goddamned invested in the way they play, and their subsequent behavior. As we noted back on those threads on the Forge (and you reiterate in your early posts in the thread, Ron), if you put this much effort into figuring out how to play, you necessarily come out of the process identifying with the method. And then any proposition that there are other ways to play become threats to your personal identity. So there is no surprise that discussions of RPGs online, and in meatspace both, often devolve into the sort of bickering that one sees in discussions of religion. And why people can't be satisfied with just playing their way and allowing others to play how they wish.

I often say, "it's insane to me that people argue over something like whether or not 3.5 or Pathfinder is the better system." But I know why they do. It's the old Emo Philips joke: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZBKIyCbppfs (the key part starts at 2:40)

Not only am I of the belief that these things are like religion etc, but that the associations that people have with individual belief systems outside of RPGs mirror to some extent the RPGs they play! Here's an interesting article from Mike Sugarbaker that has some relation to the discussion: http://www.gibberish.com/archives/2013/09/17/conservatism-and-roleplaying/

I am keenly aware, for instance, that there is a rather tremendous liberal bias amongst people who play "Story Games." Is that co-incidence? Or does it take a less conservative person to move away from D&D (or "trad" RPGs if you like) into the newfangled stuff? The OSR folks, too, seem to me to tend to the conservative in their political views. Am I imagining these things? 

Nobody would call Zak Smith a conservative. But he seems to me to be, in fact, a iconoclast who has kept on with D&D as a way of rebelling against the rebellion. In our belabored analogy, he's a Wiccan. Which it wouldn't surprise me to find out he espouses (or at least supports) in real life.

Sure, the RPG ecosphere is bound to be rife with exceptions to this linkage I'm creating. But I think the general concept holds water. And to the extent that we understand this close association to religions and the behaviors associated with them, I think the better we can do at predicting people's reactions with regards to RPGs.

[Ron Edwards]

Hi Mike,

I'm with you on the relationship between real-world religion and gaming values, although not really in the 1:1 way you're presenting - as you say, it might be more complex. I think I touched on that complexity with material I summarized here - check it out including the links when you get the time. It's from after your more active participation at the Forge.

I'm avoiding or de-emphasizing that side of things in this series of posts, though, because it does distract from the totally unusual topic I want to develop. Personal disclosure is useful toward that end, but I'd rather avoid the whole "I was raised X so I obviously game like Y," which would necessarily degenerate into multiple counter-examples. I say "necessarily" because I think the D&D-as-religion(s) thing is so sensitive that people will take any route they can to elide it or throw handfuls of sand at it.

Best, Ron

[glandis]

On Gary Gygax - while to my eye there were a few times in the early 80's where he might have been TRYING to espouse/become chief of "the orthodoxy" ... yeah, essentially forces beyond his control (and probably contrary to his inclination). That I even have such opinions of a man I knew not one whit says, I don't know, something.

Talislanta/3.0. Well, I didn't want to oversell it, but again yeah: to my analysis/opinion, 3.0 IS Talislanta, somehow both made dumber and more complex to better fit "D&D." With maybe feats as an actual innovation.

In the absence of any compelling personal religious interaction I can see in my RPG history, my only concern with watching the development of more "D&D as religion" stuff is I've got no horse in the race. I mean, I think I do (mildly uncomfortable admission) have horses at some of the same racetracks/points Ron makes in the "Musing" article, but I don't think there's a bit of lie in my saying "no strict religious upbringing here."

Still, I surely know that my personal life history (oh, like growing up "only" low/middle-class in one of the wealthiest towns in the country) had/has a definite bearing on how I dealt/deal with RPG issues. I'm in favor of anything that disrupts the idea that you-as-RPGer is somehow essentially discontinuous with you-as-political/spiritual/social/sexual/emotional/intellectual human.

I guess I'd love an even BIGGER approach than religion to the "your life and RPGs" issue, but it's Ron doing the work, not me - so I look forward to seeing what you do with this!

[Callan S.]

Nobody would call Zak Smith a conservative.

Side point, but I have - in terms of conservative thinking. What really surprised me is my own conservative thinking in that I thought if someone dealt with strippers and such, they couldn't be a conservative thinker. Man, I felt such a stick in the mud when I realised my mistake.

[Moreno R.]

I don't think that role-playing is like religion.

RELIGION is like (that kind of) role-playing.

Role-playing is a ritual activity (as any game) where you (imagine to) assume another identity. It's..  the real world equivalent of a Gloranthian heroquest.

When it's done with clear rules and everybody has a clear idea of what it is, it's a game.

When there is a "priest" that rule the ritual, following the "mysteries" of the ritual, and you are only asked to "participate" in a passive way, it's more and more like a cult.

When there is a entire culture and "social organization" around the cult, it become a religion

The difference is that participants "believe" in a cult in a way where gamers don't believe in D&D... but it's true? When you see people talking about "real fantasy" (and "not-real fantasy" - meaning "not D&D") and people who go to religious rites only to belong in a community, without really "believing", the difference is more and more difficult to see.

Then, to the mix, in the case of AD&D, add "the menace of the real world": it's a known phenomenon that the member of a cult become more fanatic, more rigid, and make more efforts to spread the cult, when they get proof that what the cult says is false (for example, when the date of a promised apocalypse pass without the world ending). In (A)D&D case, we have people who assert, for their religion, that "D&D is the best rpg" and that "D&D is the only true rpg", so every time the real world shows them that D&D is only a old pile of obsolete rubbish, they become more and more fanatic. And the same happen every time the game betrays them and they have clashes at the table.,

(and I don't think I have to remind the effect that the forge had to the cult: in a instant, decades of problems and bad experiences that could fill hundreds of books were negated, with even the people who wrote them insisting that they never had any problem and they never wrote about any problem whatsoever... or the other silly effect, the way players that visibly enjoyed playing a game different from D&D. after the game insist that "they didn't like it and they never enjoyed the game for a single instant")

Talking about D&D3.0 and the way it resembled other games more than AD&D2...  it was incredible, at the time, to see the abrupt about-face of hundreds of D&D players in every rpg forum or newsgroup, that until a few days before did swear on their own mother that nothing was better than THAC0 and that all the games that used a different roll like Talislanta were rubbish.., and then after they got the "new edition" they not only declared that the new system (that was a old system used in other games for more than ten years) was better, but they negated ever denying that! (they stopped even talking about THAC0, as it had become suddenly a heretic word). It was like having the church suddenly dictate a different interpretation of the Gospels...

The problem is: I don't see any difference between this "D&D/Pathfinder organized religion" and the "OSR cults". The OSR has a clearer agenda so probably have less clashes and problems DURING the game, but the social contest it's the same. And it's a social contest I would not touch again with a ten-foot pole.

[Ron Edwards]

I simply have to provide this: Father Dougall's doubts. It's criminal to give away this moment before you simply watch the whole episode through, but it's too perfect.

Here's the whole episode, Tentacles of Doom, it's really worth it.

[Joshua Bearden]

My preferred analogue in this perhaps strained analogy would be exactly historical turn-of-twentieth-century anarchist,

This "perhaps strained" analogy is one of my new favourite shared imagined spaces...

Anyways I had kinda thought of casting you as as an early Anabaptist, and, in a similar vein, the OSR movement as some form of the restoration Church in Scotland and America. 

[glandis]

So I guess I have more to say - hopefully this thread is still the right place.

Re-reading this thread and following the various links has inspired all sorts of thoughts: nostalgic memories, revisited "traumas", game-philosophy debates past and present. I've done many different things with "D&D" over the years (is "essentially freeform inspired by d20 character sheets" really D&D, and if so, in what sense?), and it wouldn't be entirely wrong to call the vast majority of my RPG play "D&D." Especially if you consider something like Talislanta a form of D&D.

But on the D&D history/religious history parallel, I realized I'm in an odd (but surely not unique) category: I was involved in the early days of the church, saw (and reacted negatively) to the start of orthodoxy/turmoil, left & therefore missed a huge chunk of the controversy, and re-engaged later with the perspective to (mostly) manage that engagement on my own terms. That's all personally interesting and I'm sure my brain will continue to process implications (anyone have any ideas what religious tradition might parallel THAT? hmm, maybe I too am UU, with just a bit stronger connection to the medieval version - that would mirror the "gap" issue).

Still, how to actually contribute to the focus on D&D development mirroring church development? Maybe this:

Listening to Ron's "No one talks about religion in roleplaying" InterNosCon talk, I was struck by the (well-put and accurate, IMO) introduction about why Abrahamic religious stuff matters even if you acknowledge that, to many (DEFINITELY not all) people, the thinking is fucked-up, the churches are fucked-up, and history is full of fucked-up shit as a result (I'm paraphrasing). It matters because, in the midst of that mess can be found millennia of effort to make sense of family in conflict with community, to reconcile personal belief and survival with what the other people in one's environment might want/believe  - millennia of effort to sort through the entire spectrum of issues in the human condition.

Which raised the question for me: what is it that makes D&D (more precisely, the history of D&D publishing, organized play, and traditions of play) matter? What does it represent that we should care about it? I don't think its' history as (real or perceived) market leader is enough. What struggle does it represent, and in what ways did it propose to resolve that struggle? Stripped of "corrupting" influences like profit motive, ego games and intrinsic and extrinsic political maneuvering, what are the (far less grand than "human condition") issues that we can acknowledge this thing called D&D teaches us about, even if we don't like what that teaching ended up producing?

I found myself drawn to this possibility: it represents the struggle with creating a community of practice around this new, neat-o thing called "roleplaying." Without diminishing the exploitation, incompetence, and/or malevolence exhibited by people and/or institutions, I can see that wrestling with that was and is difficult, and that much of what happened (in the very early days, at least) was at least in part a consequence of sincere efforts to find a functional answer.

There was, I think, a very utopian ideal driving the pursuit of that answer. An idealist vision of "D&D" rules as a background for all play, a unifying principle of gamer "Christendom" that all could rally around and bask in the warmth of shared understanding. TSR was to be (with NO respect to Ronald Reagan intended) a "shining city on a hill," the source of illumination and guidance for this roleplaying thing. It was not to be oppressive - it should be uplifting. It was not to be controlling - it should be inspiring. It was not to demand obedience - it should encourage compatibility . That's a HUGE word in the early days, with the weight of ecclesiastical writ and as expansive a meaning as you can possibly attribute to it. Before (or at least simultaneous with) legalistic wrangling and copyright concerns, compatibility was a word to conjure with. Expansions compatible with core, modules compatible with systems, play in Peoria compatible with play in Poughkeepsie, gamers in the Deep South compatible with gamers in the High Sierra. By creating universally shared rules and procedures of play (that is, of behavior), TSR would create universal compatibility, and gamers could happily enjoy this wondrous new roleplaying thing without fear of mistakes, mutual toe-stepping, or embarrassing misunderstandings.

Now, I'd say time has taught us that not all roleplaying can thrive in such an environment, and that the power dynamics and etc. that it sets up are almost too easily abused and abusive (which, for me, reinforces the value of "indie" in the sense that Ron has always tried to use it - which given this I'd call a different way to answer the "how to create a community" question than the "shining city" model). Still, in some ways, at some level, it is a sincere effort to solve a real problem. The technophile in me might say it could have been the "right/best" answer before the internetz were spun, but in any case - just as we can't dismiss Abrahamic traditions simply because there is bad shit associated with 'em, so we cannot dismiss D&D because of the many ways in which it's fucked-up.

[James_Nostack]

I don't have much to add to this discussion that hasn't already been said, but I do think that 2e sometimes gets an undeservedly bad rap.  My understanding is that TSR figured it needed cash, its 1e ruleset was a mess and its later-1e rule set even more so, and there was grounds for revision, streamlining, and better production values--all of which would generate revenue.

With that in mind, I think it is totally possible to play 2e in a manner pretty consistent with, say, B/X or BECMI: dudes go into a dungeon, kill things, wander in the countryside, kill things, and accomplish various adventures while bumping into random things.  Crucially, and to the edition's everlasting discredit, it does not tell you how or why to do this.

But if you're really into "early" D&D, I don't think 2e (or at least, as originally published in '89) represents a huge break with that tradition in terms of rules.  The presentation is all gunked up, but stripping out the optional rules it's largely a tweak on B/X, which was largely a tweak on Supplement I: Greyhawk.

[Mike Holmes]

Can it be played like an extension of BECMI? Sure. But as you say, it doesn't tell you to do so. Ron's point is that the instruction manuals that DO exist are the modules. "Here's an example of a D&D 2E adventure!" And those instructions are precisely the linear railroaded story.

I'll give an example, selected from my shelf, an Al Quadim module called "Caravans" (Rick Swan, 1994) that I picked up for a couple of bucks a few years back based pretty much on the caravan trope being one of which I'm very fond. It comprises a booklet entitled "Caravans Adventure Book," a color-covered booklet entitled "Al Quadim Caravan Campaign - Campaign Guide," a booklet of handouts and maps, several loose maps, and a 8 page folded full color poster of a magic carpet that's central to the adventure. There's nothing in the box that indicates where to start with all of this. Notably, both books begin with a bit of fiction to set the feel presumably.

The Campaign Guide is mostly details about the "High Desert" setting of play, but it does have an introduction that is the only instruction on how to run the adventure found in the other booklet. It says, basically, that the adventure is in episodes, and that "Most likely, the PCs will follow the episodes in sequence, but because their actions are unpredictable, they may decide to pursue the episodes in a different order." Well that sounds sorta open-minded. Right?

The Adventure Book, however, presents everything in clear-cut scripted format. There's zero attempt at the start to engage the PCs into the adventure, they're just supposed to have some sort of rationale for being at the locale at which the adventure starts. Once the scene is set, the book actually gives two options for how the party may proceed, talk to two men who just hailed them, or mingle with others. Literally it gives the options like a choose-your-own-adventure book, giving which section of the text to which the DM should refer if they do one or the other. Should they choose to talk to the two men, there is a literal script on how the conversation should start, and then a verbatim description of what one must assume the DM should read as the NPCs words to the players (though note that nowhere does it actually say to do this). This is basically an info-dump on what's going on. This is followed by a list of questions that the players might ask, and the responses of the two men. Yes, this is presented precisely as though it's a talking-tree from a CRPG. It even goes so far after this to say that the men "... have no other information." The implication being that if the PCs want to know more, they have to head down to mingle... which means that we've been railroaded right back to the mingling step. Oh, and by the way, the folks they can mingle with know exactly as much as the two men. In other words, the scene with the men, should it be taken, is 100% just for color.

OK, sure, maybe the players decide that the PCs do something else here than go mingle. But there's really not much more to do. Note that this is a key technique in these presentations. Never give more information to act upon than will result in precisely the follow-up action you want. It's Hobson's Choice, the PCs can choose to do anything, as long as it's this one thing right here, since we're not offering up any other interesting options.

The next section presented is background. I believe this is very important to this discussion. The background for the situation of play is NOT presented up front. It's presented in fragments that are revealed in the individual "scenes" themselves (I use the  term scene intentionally but loosely here to describe what the text is relating as what should go on). Why, oh why, would they present it this way? Well, while it's true that most adventure modules include some sort of perfunctory "read everything first before you attempt to use this module" (though as it happens this module does not), they're aware that even if you do this, you're unlikely to recall all of the details precisely as you go along. In fact, you might be one of those folks who is trying to "wing" the module and reading it as you're playing through. So you need to know the background in situ for the scene in question. But this notion is key in that it belies that the writers are assuming that you will go from section to section as the game progresses. Because, if not, there will be key background information that you will miss.

To be clear, other than the one or two-sentence summaries of the "episodes" found in the Campaign Guide, there is nothing at the front of the episode that tells you what the episode is about, much less what is supposed to be moving the action as play moves along. To get the background details, you have to read through the scripted scenes. It would be one thing if the notes in the scenes were a reminder about something told up front. But to have it be the ONLY source of this data informs the DM very strongly that the idea is to play through the scenes in the order presented. These are scripts, and the DM is supposed to stick to it. If not, you're going to have to do a lot of hunting for information based on assumptions about what the PCs were "supposed" to do.

The first part of episode one basically is designed to get the players to go to a tent and end up in a fight with some creatures and save a daughter of the "patron" of the adventure. At this point the adventure seems to present a split based on if the adventurers saved the girl... but the difference between the two is merely whether they get a single piece of treasure. Worse, one of the rewards is an invitation to the next phase of Episode One, where they're invited to an inn for a party. The text then explicitly says that it would be a mistake to refuse the offer, as it would be taken as an insult.

This is another classic moment of the railroaded adventure. Instead of saying explicitly "ensure that they get to the next phase by some method," it instead includes an implied threat if the PCs don't follow the script. The attempt to find some sort of in-game circumstances to enforce the trajectory of the adventure, instead of admitting that at this point there's simply not much keeping things going in the planned trajectory, is a failure by the authors. Note that, once again, like the circumstances that start the episode, the biggest thing that'll keep the players on the rails is simply the fact that nothing else interesting is presented. But they'll mention how to keep them on track, nonetheless. Why?

Well here's where we see the issue with the orthodoxy. By the time the party gets to the encounter and kills the creatures in question, and are then presented with the "choice" to go to the inn, they've been given zero interesting choices about what their characters might do. It is at this point that one or more of the players may start to rebel, and simply say no to the single choice presented, simply to demonstrate that they have ANY control over the trajectory of the events of play. Again, using "my guy" logic. "My guy hates inns, he's not going." Knowing this, the authors have presented the DM with the response "You'd better go, or you'll have insulted somebody from a culture that won't tolerate it."

And then this is where the Village of Homlett goes up in flames, if you will. Some players, fed up enough with the lack of control, will take the implied fight option instead. And now we have the problem that there's no reasonable way to salvage the situation presented in the module (though very creative GMs can even work around this sort of disaster). Either the PCs are dead, or the Patron is.

And we haven't even finished Episode One. The rest of the module is more of the same. Even if players manage to swallow their creative desires through an episode or two, eventually they're going to revolt.

Note that I presented this module specifically because it's 2E. But as Ron says, this all started much earlier in AD&D 1E days. Anyone want to see me break down Ravenloft II: House on Gryphon Hill, Copyright 1986 by (you guessed it) Tracy and Laura Hickman, and David Cook et. al? :)

[Mike Holmes]

Oh, I forgot to tell you what happens at the end of Episode One above, after the PCs basically agree to take on the epic quest that Hobson is presenting as their only option. You know, the point at which the PCs might theoretically at least decide to do a different episode, as implied in the Campaign Guide?

In the section "What's Next?" it says:

"Continue with Episode Two."

And then notes parenthetically that the DM should fudge to keep the two major NPCs alive throughout the adventure, since the last episode kinda revolves around them. And that's it. So much for open-minded.

[Callan S.]

Mike, would you like to talk about salvaging the situation, in terms of what the goals are for doing such salvaging?

[Ron Edwards]

As a footnote to Mike's account, I cannot stress enough how utterly scripted that adventure text is, and the same goes for all the al-Qadim materials. It's one of my go-to references for such writing. It's especially obvious in its transitions: the characters are simply expected to infer what they're supposed to, or extract the information they're supposed to, or establish the relationships they're supposed to, like clockwork. Usually the text is high implicit - simply saying stuff like "Now that they are embarked to meet the guy," as the opening to the following section. Sometimes the authors apparently get uneasy about this and toss in reminders about how you're supposed to make sure this happens.

It doesn't even have the excuse of text associated with novels that you're thought to be "playing in," like the Dark Sun adventures. It just is that the player-characters have to decide what to do precisely as the adventure requires.

Best, Ron

[Mike Holmes]

Hi Callan. Another name I haven't communicated with in an age...

I'm not sure what you're specifically speaking about in terms of salvaging the situation. Are you asking how I might use the materials in the book to create a situation that's playable in a less linear fashion? Or how to salvage the situation once you've had a burning of Homlett event? Or something else?

I purchased a few such modules in the last decade on the hope of them being inspiring enough to reshape into something I can use. And in every case I've realized after the fact that it's actually less work to start with something like a book or play (operas are my favorite), than to rework a published adventure module. I'll say that again: it's harder to rework a published adventure into something interesting to play than it is to start with a completed story in any other medium I've tried.

One would think that stories in other media would be problematic, because they are complete, and thus require distilling back into the basic situation. But adventure modules are just as complete, and are presented in a way that requires you to practically rewrite the story first in a narrative fashion before you then continue the deconstruction further and reduce it back into some sort of situation brimming with potential. And to get to that first stage, you have to eliminate a ton of text that's completely useless. Which often times then leaves you with so little that you're back to having to build the situation up to an interesting level.

For instance, in Caravans, one of the episodes contains something like a NPC situation with some tension, but it turns out to be basically two NPCs against each other. One asks the party to stop the other. There's just not enough there from which to create an interesting situation without adding more NPCs, and twisting things up a bit. The other episodes have even less situational data, being mostly "encounters." Overall there probably are enough NPCs to create an interesting situation, but hunting them all down in the text and then figuring out how to have them all interact with the PCs in a way that drives conflict... it's just far more work coming up with all of this than if we'd started with a book or something.

In short, don't buy such modules and try to retool them.

If the question is about how one might salvage such a situation, the question becomes why you would want to start with a situation that is going to self-destruct pointlessly in the first place. If you start with a well-designed situation, and then cater to the PCs needs to move the plot forward, you never have to worry about the problem coming up in the first place.

But to answer the question in an academic fashion, for the interest of those who might want to know how the expert "illusionist" GM would save the day, I'll give a solution. If the players kill character A, who was supposed to recommend them to character B for the quest, you simply have character B impose the quest on the PCs as punishment for the killing (instead of allowing them to undertake it as a reward for saving the girl). That's the solution to the situation as presented in the module; I left out a bit about the guy whose daughter is being saved not being the patron per se, but later introducing them to the patron. Had character A actually been the patron, then on killing him, the PCs could be gifted his stuff under the tribe's honor code, and in that stuff find a reference to the woman who needs saving. And then give the PCs some info about how said woman is a priestess of a rich cult or something (instead of being the patron's long-lost love).

Any of that help?

[Moreno R.]

A textual example, from "FA1 - Halls of the High Kings" an adventure module written by Ed Greenwood and published in 1990

Ed Greenwood is not a small figure in AD&D: he is the creator and principal writer of the Forgotten Realms, the default setting (even if there are rumors that says that his world was chosen because it was very cheap and TSR wanted to save every penny). He was published almost in every issue of Dragon Magazine for a decade, so he was put practically as an "example" of a good GM, a good world creator, a good module author, a good articles writer, in AD&D2 terms.

This is the start of the adventure:

------------------------
This adventure can begin in any port city on the Sword Coast of the Realms(Waterdeep or Baldur’s Gate are obvious choices). It is suggested the adventure begin when the PCs are restless, low on funds, or need to relocate quickly to avoid enemies, the authorities, or a heavy tax.
The PCs are approached by a short, fat, richly dressed merchant. “Your pardon, sirs,” he says in a quiet, determined voice. “Could your services be had for hire? I am Panthras, of Panthras Procuring, and I’d like to do business with you.”
Panthras has shrewd eyes set in a weather-beaten face. He is a street-smart, retired caravan master.
Panthras: AC 2 (bracers of defense); MV 12; F 10; hp 79; THAC0 11; #AT 3/2; Dmg by weapon; S 16 ( + 1 on dmg.), D 14, C 16, I 15, W 17, Ch 14; ML 15; AL NG.
Panthras is armed with a long sword (1d8 dmg.), five throwing daggers (1d4 dmg each), and several magical defenses (see below), any or all of which he will use if the PCs are foolish enough to tangle with him. He is not interested in battling the PCs, however, but in hiring them. He will ask to meet the PCs somewhere private of their choosing— or, if they’ve no place to offer, in a back room of The Blunt Axe tavern.
Panthras will initially offer the PCs 30 gp and four potions of healing each to perform “a guard mission” for him. He will reveal more and, if necessary, offer up to 3,000 gp as he bargains.
Panthras needs a band of adventurers who command some magic and as much experience as possible to see a shipboard cargo of his safe to its destination. The cargo consists of sixty tarred and sealed wooden crates, each containing twenty new long swords of the finest make. The swords must reach the Cantrev of Aithe in Callidyrr, a kingdom on the Moonshae Isles. (If the PCs ask, Aithe lies on the western coast of the island of Alaron, northwest of Doncastle, where a cape —Moonfall Ridge-juts out into the sea west of Dernall Forest.)
The PCs’ mission, if they accept, will be to deliver the swords safely to the local lord, Haembar “Hawkenhound” Cauldyth. Panthras also produces a contract for the PCs to sign. It specifies how many swords the PCs are being hired to “...see safely into the hands of Lord Cauldyth of Aithe, or his successor in the lordship of Cantrev Aithe, to the best of their honor and abilities.”
[...]
Panthras will turn away from the PCs for a moment, saying, “"There is more. Read this, please".” He produces a portable hole and draws from it a sealed parchment, slipping the hole back into the breast pocket from whence he drew it. Before proffering the parchment, he hesitantly adds, “I must warn you: once you’ve unsealed this document, I cannot allow you to withdraw from the mission and live; this is a matter of state security. Consider your actions carefully, then. Upon my honor, the document contains no alteration in your agreed task.”
The parchment is sealed with a wolfs head: the Lone Wolf of the Kendrick family. If the PCs open it, they will read: To those who accept the bond of Panthras and with it the swordguard mission to Aithe: My thanks and my debt. Dark days have come to the Moonshae Isles again, and we are in need of the strong and the valiant. Be it known that I personally shall award four thousand pieces of gold, above and beyond your pay, to each adventurer in your band who comes to Caer Callidyrr and asks for it, assuming the blades arrive safely in the hands of the Lord of Aithe. I will offer more, at that time, to those among you who will give us substantial aid against the foes that beset us in the Moonshaes—dark men skulking behind witless pawns who may try to seize that which you guard.
Bring this letter to me in Caer Callidyrr, and accept the thanks, welcome, and hospitality of:
Iristan Kendrick
High King of the Ffolk

[OK, it's one of the worst "stranger talk to you in a tavern" start of an adventure ever, but it seems a normal offer up to this moment... read on: ]

If any PCs attack Panthras during the encounter, or if they try to renounce their part in the agreement to his face after the document has been unsealed, the merchant’s most powerful defense will act.
The mage Flamsterd, who has been eavesdropping invisibly on the negotiations, concealed against magical detection by his own personal magics, will cast a forget spell on the PCs. If hostilities erupt and he deems it necessary, a time stop will be cast first, after which he will remove the High King’s letter and move all PC weapons, magic items, scrolls, potions, and the like into a pile in the center of the gathering.
In brief, Flamsterd is a powerful archmage (Wizard, 21st Level) who carries whatever magic items and spells a DM wishes to give him. He is a gentle man, firm but polite, with a kindly manner, but he has learned that the best response to those who attack him or thwart his will is a quick and heavy-handed magical attack. (He can ask the corpses questions later and apologize to the remains if he’s made a mistake.)

[the adventure is for character of at least 6th level, and right at the beginning if they don't want to go they are beaten by a 21th level archmage]

[look at the level of the details for the mage. A Mary Sue? Probably the DM character, Ed was famous for the "DM characters" he wrote in his modules, like the Mage Elminster]

Flamsterd is an eminent sage, his major field of expertise being the history, lore, and works of written magic. His minor interests include the history of human settlement and deeds in north-western Faerun, and of the Ffolk of the Moonshaes in particular.
Flamsterd’s eyes flash and his voice grows stern when he deems it necessary, and although he seems quick to anger, he has iron self-control. He will often act more angry than he really is in order to cow opponents or lure them into revealing their true attitudes or foolish battle strategies.He is armed with a dagger +2, longtooth and also with six darts of paralyzation. These +1 darts cause their victim to save vs. paralyzation or be paralyzed for 1 turn. They do not automatically return to the thrower, but neither do they lose their magic if they miss a target.
Flamsterd appears as a slim, distinguished-looking, long-bearded man of average height. His long, predominantly white beard, which still has some strands of black left, is often tucked into his belt or drawn up and flung over one shoulder to keep it out of the dirt. He customarily wears plain gray robes and (only when traveling outside his home) a red cloak. These continuously curl and flap around him, seemingly of their own volition, due to the cloak’s power to emit a sudden gust of wind once every second round, at Flamsterd’s will. This handy piece of magic serves to extinguish or dramatically heighten campfires where he appears, deflect arrows or other missiles, and so on.
Flamsterd is famous and well-thought of around the Isles, by Llewyrr, dwarves, halflings and Ffolk alike. His appearances are news, and his kindnesses (such as magically rescuing livestock or people, mending broken fences or roofs that leak, repairing bridges and clearing spring ice to prevent floods) are legendary. A teleport ring, which he is never without, allows him to appear and depart suddenly and silently. Like his colleagues Khelben Arunsun and Elminster, Flamsterd is a friend to the Harpers and shares their aims of protecting the land, the weak and needy who dwell in it, and upholding honesty, fair dealing, and peace.
Flamsterd may appear from time to time during this adventure as desired. Long-term campaign play in the Moon-shaes will require a DM to detail Flamsterd’s spells, possessions, abode, and activities more extensively.
Flamsterd: AC -2 (plain robes plus a cloak of protection +5, a ring of protection +3, and his Dex bonus); MV 12; W 21; hp 49; THAC0 14; #AT 1; Dmg by spell or weapon; S 14, D 18, C 15, I 18, W 17, Ch 16; ML 15; AL NG).
If the PCs accept the mission, Panthras will produce his portable hole and make the payment agreed upon-on the spot. He will tell the PCs to report to the caravel Mermaid Sword at the docks three mornings hence (or whatever time the DM desires in order to allow the PCs to fully rest, heal and regain spells and gear or to have another, short adventure). After bidding the PCs good day, he leaves. If any PC rushes after him or tries to follow him “on the sly,” they will find that he has vanished. (In reality, Flamsterd has cast invisibility on the merchant and they both teleport away.

If the PCs refuse the bargain and elect to go their own way, they will see Panthras seeking out adventurers wherever they go in the days that follow. If they get down on their luck, he will reappear and try them again, even finding his way into dungeons they’ve gotten lost in or prisons they’ve been incarcerated in (offering, of course, to free them if they accept his job offer).
Flamsterd will accompany Panthras as an invisible protector at all times. Oddly enough, PC attacks on Panthras will not diminish his enthusiasm to try to hire them.

If the PCs still seem reluctant to undertake the mission, introduce the next event.

A Visitor by Night
Whenever two or more PCs are together, after dark, a pale blue radiance will suddenly spring into being nearby, growing rapidly brighter. It expands as a whirling, pulsing ball to become the ghostly image of an upright, detached human hand, which turns to point into the darkness and fades away.
If the PCs look where the hand is pointing, they see a slim, distinguished-looking man, wearing gray robes and a red cloak that seem to swirl and shift by themselves, as if disturbed by an unseen, unfelt wind. The man’s white beard is so long that he’s tucked it into his belt to avoid treading on it. A few hairs as black as a raven’s remain around his lower lip, among their snow-white brothers. The man regards them gravely, and says, “Well met. I come in peace, to speak of war and danger” It is the wizard Flamsterd who has appeared via his teleport ring and created the hand. If the PCs don’t look where the hand is pointing, Flamsterd will clear his throat loudly to get their attention. If that doesn’t work, he will simply walk right in among the PCs, stepping on anyone who’s sleeping.
Flamsterd slowly looks around at all of the PCs present, and says, “I understand you are adventurers.” He will wait for a reply, but whether or not one is given, will continue: “My land has need of adventurers. I am come from the Moonshae Isles, that men hereabouts sometimes call the “jewels on the hilts of The Sea of Swords.” My fair land has faced evil aplenty in recent years, and its folk are weary and sick of death and blood-magic and blades. A new evil has come to our shores; evil never grows tired. I need you, and others like you, to fight this evil. Are you willing?”
Flamsterd will quietly and politely answer PC queries. He will not bluster and cannot be pressured into bargains or admissions. He will say that the evil of which he speaks consists of “. . . brigands, undead, and darker creatures, all of them guided and goaded on by priests of the god Bane, The Lord of Tyranny.”
If PCs ask for payment for aiding the Moonshaes, Flamsterd will reply that the High King has already offered them “coins, and more.” (If the PCs did not read the letter that Panthras bore, Flamsterd will produce it now, offering it without the state security warning Panthras was obligated to offer.)
Flamsterd will tell the PCs he can offer them his friendship, aid at times when they are in the Moonshaes, and magical tutelage in a single spell of their choosing, when the evil is defeated. If any PCs are Harpers, Flamsterd will call on them as Harpers to do their duty and aid the Moonshaes, invoking the names of any powerful Harpers that may be known to the PCs.
If the PCs seem willing, Flamsterd will tell them to report to the Mermaid Sword, a caravel owned by the High King, at a particular dock three mornings hence. (Once again, the time period can be adjusted to suit the DM’s purposes.).
If the PCs are unwilling, Flamsterd will shake his head sorrowfully, and sigh. “I see no heroes here,” he will announce. “Indeed, none of you can even strike true with a blade!” With these words, the wizard will vanish, using his ring to teleport away. If Flamsterd is attacked at any time during this encounter, he will utter these words and vanish.
Flamsterd has enacted a powerful steel curse, once widely used in the North. This type of curse prevents a victim from successfully attacking with any bladed weapon, from a bill to a belt-knife -and all PCs present at Flamsterd’s visit are affected!! Attempts to
use bladed weapons as clubs, or to strike them against walls, trees, and other immobile targets, will cause the blade to shatter into tiny shards with no damage to wielder or target (magical weapons also affected) at every attempt. Bladed weapons are simply useless to the cursed beings until a number of months equal to the level of the caster (in Flamsterd’s case, 21 months) have passed, or until the curse is lifted.
A steel curse can be lifted instantly by the caster or by the application of a remove curse by a wizard of fourteenth level or greater on each and every affected being. Flamsterd will lift it if the PCs undertake the mission. Remove curse spells cast by lesser wizards, and dispel magic spells, will have no effect.
One last method of tumbling reluctant PCs into the adventure is to have them run afoul of enemies or the authorities in a dockside area and start a chase, with the PCs fleeing from a trap or overwhelming force. Their flight leads them to the water, where a caravel, the Mermaid Sword, is just casting off. The captain waves the PCs aboard, face alight. “Are you the promised ones?‚” she cries. “Come on, then! We sail before the day’s three breaths older!”

[All this complicated mess only to have the PC go in the adventure makes me think that Ed Greenwood had many problems with players that stubbornly refused to go in another of his "adventures" and he never, even, discovered the simple technique of saying "guys, would you like to play an adventure here and there to do this? Yes? OK, you start directly on a ship..."]
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"OK, this was a very railroaded "plot hook", but the adventure can't be so pre-scripted, right?"
You wish...

The ENTIRE module is like this. Just to show some other examples:

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This is from a moment where they MUST go on a new part of the adventures:

DM Note: If the PCs are too weak to be victorious in this adventure, Lord Cauldyth and Rhiara may join the party or turn up as surprise reinforcements when the PCs are hurting and in a bad spot. Cauldyth will most generally come thundering along to the rescue in his old and battered armor astride a mighty charger. He will plunge into battle with gusto, bellowing war-cries (“For Aithe and freedom!“, “For the Goddess!”, and “Cauldyth is upon you!” seem to be favorites). Rhiara is quieter in battle, but just as ruthless.

So, the PC HAVE to win. If they are too weak, the GM simply has to use two uber-NPC to win the battle for them and "keep them on the track"..

What happen if the PC don't follow the track in a timely manner?

If the PCs tarry overmuch in Aithe, townsfolk will begin to ask when they’ll “set right what is wrong;” first of each other, within earshot of PCs, and later directly questioning PCs. If the PCs stay twenty nights or more without setting forth into the Wild Wood, the townsfolk will begin to avoid them, murmur “cowards” in the streets and taverns when the PCs are near, and generally grow tired of seeing the PCs in Aithelar.
If the PCs stay in town more than six nights, they will face three attacks, on different nights. The first will be an attempt to steal their gear by nine were-rats. Then four dopplegangers, hired by a priest in black robes, will try to capture isolated PCs for questioning and eventual sale into slavery, taking their places in the party. Finally, 16 Cult-hired thugs will set wherever the PCs are sleeping afire, waiting with crossbows for any PCs who awaken to emerge

What if they want to leave too soon?

Ducking Out Of The Adventure
Whether the PCs agree to explore the Wild Wood or not, no ship will be immediately available for them to sail elsewhere. The Sword may never sail again; if it can be rescued and repaired, weeks of rebuilding will be necessary. If the PCs try to defend it while the crew rebuilds, refusing to go adventuring, the next encounter will happen anyway, at night, on the docks. If the PCs steal or hire one of the ramshackle local fishing-boats, and sail away, a storm will rise (the work of Chauntea? Aany hired crew will think and say so), and drive the craft ashore

You get the idea I hope: most of the module is dedicated to heavy-handed (and ham-fisted) ways to keep players (who don't want to play that adventure) "on the right track". They HAVE to "become heroes saving the isles", even if they don't care and don't want!

And not only TSR had the nerve to ask money for this crap ($8,95 in 1990 was the price of 9 comic books or two fantasy novels in paperback), but this was an example of "how to play as a good GM" written by one of their most "famous" writers....

P.S.: Obviously, if you talk to any GM still in the "cult of the sacred holy official manuals of the only true rpg", even the ones who did run this module to their players, every one of them will negate absolutely that ANY D&D adventure module promoted railroading...