“Jargon” is not a word one thinks of often, at least not outside of some seemingly complicated profession. But tabletop role playing games have also developed their own jargon. Two broad examples are “flavor” and “crunch.” In the context of a game, “flavor” refers to story elements or lore that gives a certain feel to things, but has no actual impact on the gameplay. On the opposite end, there is “crunch,” which refers to the hard rules and mechanics the game actually employs. Both are essential to make a game great, so it simply boils down to the portions you get. In this case, we’re observing the 5th Edition D&D Player’s Handbook (henceforth, simply the Player’s Handbook).

If one were to describe the Player’s Handbook’s flavor, it could be summed up in one word: vanilla. That’s not to say it’s bad, not by a long shot. It’s a strong, bold vanilla, as D&D’s introductory book should be. All the most classical and iconic races, classes, items, and even a handful of monsters are present within the book, in addition to some more recent additions of prior editions. More importantly, the lore (and therefore its flavor) is abundant. You might opt to be a sorcerous dragonborn who is eager to earn honor for his clan. Perhaps you prefer to be a roguish half-elf, keeping a watch on the beasts of the wild and poachers alike. Even a wizardly gnome working on his latest invention is open to you. Going even further, you can adjust your character more finely with the backgrounds, which can give your character a gentle pinch of flavor from some simpler archetypes like a criminal, noble, or soldier. These tasty combinations are too numerous to conveniently calculate, but taking the gnome wizard as an example, deciding he was (or still is) a criminal easily leans into him being akin to a mad scientist performing strange transformation spells on his victims. And the list goes on, so one can only see for themselves what’s at their fingertips.

But what of the substance? The Player’s Handbook is a very solid, enjoyably crunchy book. The rules are plain and simple: roll a die, add relevant bonuses or penalties, learn if you succeeded or failed, move on to the next events. Your character gets a bonus for things he is trained to do (the proficiency bonus, which scales across all classes and levels equally) and a bonus (or penalty) for natural talent (the ability modifier). You pick where your strengths and weaknesses are during character creation and your choice of class gives you your suite of features. The tough warrior guys (barbarians, fighters, and paladins) get differing ways to mitigate damage they take, the crafty skill guys (bards, monks, rangers, rogues) get different ways to circumvent obstacles like traps and hazards, and the primary spellcaster guys (bards (again), clerics, druids, sorcerers, warlocks, and wizards) all use magic to support allies or detract from enemies (sometime simultaneously). Strengthening this crunchy goodness is your choice of race. Want to make a wizard who isn’t just a robe-wearing wimp? Make him a mountain dwarf! He can cast spells in his armor just fine and with a modest Strength score, you can occasionally (VERY occasionally) take a swing of his axe to an enemy if that’s prefered. High elves learn one wizard cantrip (a spell that can be cast without running out of magic). You can go the opposite direction and have a high elf fighter who surprises his foes with a little bit of magic. Either way, your rolls are just as before: your proficiency plus your modifier. And like the flavor before it, the crunch is extremely satisfying.

The flavor is tasty, the crunch is solid, so just how much of this do you get? If it hasn’t been evident yet, the portions are massive. This is no single serving, this is a whole buffet of tabletop gaming glory. Eight races (not counting numerous subraces) plus twelves classes (not counting subclasses) equals enough portions to last for years. There are some things missing that would better support certain archetypes (weapon and tool themed feats), but those and more are coming in a different book later (at the writing of this article, I speculate it is Volo’s Guide to Spirits and Specters). There’s nothing truly worth complaining about.

So, how does the 5th Edition Dungeons and Dragons Player’s Handbook do? Nearly everything you could ever want in a fantasy tabletop role playing game is here. The flavors and crunch support each other and there’s more than one heaping helping of everything. However, one could compare my small gripe to being at the dessert portion of the buffet line and seeing they’re all out of chocolate chip cookies. They still have other desserts, but not seeing that iconic dessert is a bit disappointing, but then you see they have brownies and everything is fine again. A-, absolutely buy a copy. Here’s hoping you can hit the endgame!

-The Clark Side