There’s an irony in my relationship to the world of Mystara. I love the place, even though it’s the setting for Basic D&D which I almost never played. I played by Advanced D&D rules but hated the world designed for it; Greyhawk struck me as artificial and uninspiring. Mystara, on the other hand — also known as the “Known World” — hooked me right away, from its sketchy inception in The Isle of Dread module, to the fleshed-out detail in later gazetteers. Those gazetteers are the subject of this post.
The nations of Mystara are compelling analogs of our own world: click on the map above to see the Empire of Thyatis (= the Roman Empire), the Grand Duchy of Karameikos (= southeastern Slavic Europe), the Principalities of Glantri (= western Europe, ruled by wizard-princes), the Ethengar Khanate (= the Mongols), the Republic of Darokin (= the mercantile states of medieval Italy), the Atruaghin Clans (= the Native American Indians), the Emirates of Ylaruam (= Middle Eastern Arabs), the Northern Reaches of Ostland/Vestland/Soderfjord (= Scandinavian Vikings), the Kingdom of Ierendi (= the Bahamas), the Minrothad Guilds (= Switzerland + 19th century Britain), plus regions for the dwarves, elves, and halflings. To the east of this continent is the huge empire of Alphatia (which basically = Atlantis). I still consider Mystara the most ideal setting for D&D campaigns. Pastiche like this should come across as lazy world-building, but in this case it doesn’t. The resonance with our own world is what makes Mystara so compelling to me.
Some of the best old-school modules are set in Mystara: The Keep on the Borderlands, The Lost City, The Isle of Dread, Castle Amber, Master of the Desert Nomads, and Temple of Death. But I often set other modules there too. In my following ranking of the gazetteers, I do so primarily on the basis of how these regions and nations inspired me, not necessarily on how the content is presented. In some cases (most notably The Atruaghin Clans) the gazetteer could have been better designed or fleshed out, but it still had enough of the cultural material that I value in these products.
1. The Principalities of Glantri. Bruce Heard, 1987. 5 stars. This is what a nation of magic-users looks like at its most diversified, dangerous, and eccentric. In this land, clerics and priests are treasonous criminals to be executed, and dwarves second class citizens at best, usually taken captive for magic experiments. There are ten principalities, to each their own: (1) the House of Sylaire is based on medieval France, and ruled by the insane family from the module Castle Amber; (2) the House of Crownguard is derived from medieval Scotland, highly invested in necromancy, and ruled by a prince who is a lich; (3) the House of Ritterburg owes to German and Prussian influences, and evokes shades of the Third Reich; (4) the House of Sirrechia is like Renaissance Italy; (5) the House of Igorov is ruled by vampires and much like Transylvania; (6) the House of Singhabad comes from the nomadic Asians of Ethengar (based on our Mongol culture, see #11 below) and they have more tolerance for clerics and priests; (7) the House of Silverston descends from exiles of the Alphatian Empire (see #10 below) and are followers of the Air; (8) the House of Linden also descends from Alphatian exiles but are followers of the Flame and rivals to House Silverston; (9) the Clan of Alhambra are elves that come from way beyond the Mystaran continent, and are short and hot-tempered, their culture reminiscent of medieval Spain; (10) the Clan of Ellerovyn are elves from the nearby kingdom of Alfheim (see #6 below), having emigrated to Glantri, and are basically much like classic D&D elves. What’s fascinating is that all of this is practically a microcosm of the Mystaran continent itself, which is an amalgam of cultures that evoke either our world or classic D&D. The Principalities of Glantri follow suit and you’d expect that sort of pastiche to fail, or at least come across as lazy world building. It doesn’t. These cultures are all the more lively because of their diversely familiar elements and exactly what I want a confederation of mages to be like in my campaigns.
2. The Atruaghin Clans. William Connors, 1991. 5 stars. This one has a poor reputation and for good reason. It’s a half-finished product rushed out of the gate. Certain ideas are padded to take up space; the font is huge and the page margins wide. No cities are detailed; no bestiary; none of the usual material in a Mystara gazetteer. But for me this hardly matters much, because what the gazetteer does provide is what I really need: the cultures and tribes of a very compelling Native-American-like confederation. Also, the product was later finished in the unofficial Mystara Reborn Gazeteer: The Atruaghin Clans, by Glen Welch. [The pdfs for that completed gazetteer are freely downloadable here (Player’s Guide) and here (Dungeon Master’s Guide).] Between the original product, the inspiration I took from it, and Welch’s top-notch finished version, I have to say that The Atruaghin Clans is a hands-down favorite. There are five clans: (1) the eight tribes of the Elk Clan, the largest of the clans located at the center of the Atruaghin nation, staunch traditionalists who adhere religiously to the Old Ways and the policy of isolationism; (2) the four tribes of the Horse Clan, the most independent of the clans who have no spoken language (using only hand signals, facial expressions, body postures, and occasional vocal cries), and are led by the strongest warriors, and live for horse riding, buffalo hunting, warfare, and scalping their enemies (a practice the other tribes find barbaric); (3) the seven tribes of the Bear Clan, the most conflicted clan between the Old Ways and the new, believing in the importance of trade with outsiders; (4) the five tribes of the Turtle Clan, the most forward thinking of the clans and openly doubting the Old Ways, and even allowing intermarriage with non-Atruaghin, and embracing foreign trade with minimal reservations; (5) the eleven tribes of the Tiger Clan, a close analog to the Aztecs of our world, and who are not part of the confederation that loosely unites the other four clans; the Tiger Clan is a nasty theocracy that practices human sacrifice daily and wages merciless warfare against the other four clans and the outside world. Welch’s completed version is a brilliant creation. The 35 tribes are given enough detail to make the Atruaghins believably complex, but not too much to overwhelm.
3. The Emirates of Ylaruam. Ken Rolston, 1987. 5 stars. I give this highest marks despite the fact that I changed so much of the content. Remember, I’m ranking these based on how inspired I am by them, how much pleasurable use I get out of them, and by that yardstick The Emirates of Ylaruam should probably be at the top of my list. (It’s only because the Glantri and Atruaghin gazetteers are incomparably awesome that they take the lead.) But as I say, I had to give it a huge overhaul. The analog of Muhammad, Al-Kalim, is way too sanitized. In my revision, Al-Kalim is the historically accurate warlord intent on the subjugation of all peoples who refuse to embrace the religion of the Eternal Truth. In my revision, the emirates are among the harshest places to live in Mystara, given that the rule of law is the equivalent of our world’s Islamic law, sharia law, and the way of jihad (holy war). In my revision, women are second-class citizens (unlike the skimpily-clad dancer suggested on the cover) and clitoridectomies are mandatory in two of the six emirates, and encouraged in the other four. And aside from being more accurate, my revisions make the Emirates a much more dangerous and hostile region, which is what I want for challenging campaigns. I was so inspired by this product that I wrote a novel set in Ylaruam, involving The Lost City, with jihadists from the surface world threatening to annihilate the Cynidiceans. This sandbox is so loaded with potential and I could get years of campaigning out of it.
4. The Northern Reaches. Ken Rolston, 1988. 4 ½ stars. It’s designed by the author of The Emirates of Ylaruam, and so no wonder I like it so much, and the vikings indeed share certain traits with the desert jihadists: they don’t fear death — they often look forward to it — and are bound by codes of honor that can be just as inflexible. But at least the vikings can laugh about it and enjoy life. From a technical point of view, Rolston did an even better job with The Northern Reaches, because he supplied more game mechanics for the culture of the region. There are personality traits (cautious/rash, modest/proud, peaceful/violent, courageous/fearful, reverent/godless, forgiving/vengeful, loyal/unreliable, etc.) that can impact a PC’s interactions as much as ability scores. Characters have reputation ratings — a rather crucial rating in an honor-shame culture and something that should definitely have been put in the Ylaruam gazetteer. Clan benefits are described. Background skills (intimidate, boating, ship building, know terrain, know market value, skald, etc.) are also provided and very easy to use. The region itself is divided into three realms: the island kingdom of Ostland (conservative and watch yourself here), the kingdom of Vestland (more modern and cosmopolitan), and the Soderfjord Jarldoms (unruly, and somewhere between Ostland’s duel-based values and Vestland’s more progressive court-based system). If you’re a running a Norse-like scenario anywhere, this gazetteer will be of immense use.
5. The Minrothad Guilds. Deborah Christian and Kim Eastland, 1988. 4 ½ stars. These islands are dangerous in a very non-standard way for D&D play. Crime of any sort is punished severely, and what constitutes crime is, well, just about anything you do without the permission of the appropriate guild. Cast a spell? You’re in trouble, unless you’re part of the Tutorial Guild, or under its direct supervision. Draw a weapon? You’re in trouble again, unless you belong to the Mercenary Guild. As for thieves, there is zero tolerance; the punishment for minor theft is the loss of one or both hands, and for major theft it’s execution. (There is a Thieves’ Guild in Minrothad, but it’s highly secret, and if any of its members are unlucky to be caught, their punishment is the same as that for a non-guild member. Ditto for the Assassins’ Guild.) Standard crimes are punished with severity; even an act like sacrilege against a church can earn you a year in a dungeon, and the prisons on these isles are among the worst in all of Mystara. Minrothad is basically a combination of Switzerland and 19th-century Britain: strictly neutral in the affairs of other nations, insular and unwelcoming to outsiders, but reaching out far and wide with its merchants to rule the sea trade. Their merchants sail everywhere with goods that are hard to come by, and their merchant-princes run tight ships — and with spellcasting abilities that give pirates and anyone in their right mind a serious pause. It’s not possible for Minrothad to completely monopolize trade abroad, but it comes pretty damn close. For D&D play, these islands offer unusual challenges: covert operations that demand thinking more than fighting, and where it’s all too easy to get a bounty put on your head. The only character class unrestricted by the guilds are clerics and druids. The isles are multiracial, and elves (water elves and wood elves) are actually dominant over the human, dwarven, and halfling populations. And there is a terrific section on ships, navigating weather patterns, how many hull points various ships have, what damage points do to a ship’s performance, etc. — this section is even better than what the DM’s Guide offers on the subject of ship combat. What can I say, The Minrothad Guilds is everything I look for in a fresh new region that will challenge players in radically new ways. Oh, and to top it off, these isles have recurring problems with lycanthropy and vampirism, just to shake things up extra.
6. The Kingdom of Ierendi. Anne McCready, 1987. 4 ½ stars. This one isn’t nearly as bad as its reputation suggests. In fact I adore it. At some point PCs want a break from all the standard D&D fare and just go on a goddamn vacation. Ierendi is the place for that. It’s the Mystaran equivalent of the Bahamas, ten subtropical islands each having something unique about them. The most noteworthy, aside from the main island of Ierendi itself, is Safari Island, which is a nature preserve and theme park — the medieval equivalent of our modern laser-tag sites, where adventurers can test themselves in regulated combat games, and hunt dangerous beasts (if they’ve obtained a license for it), for the most part safe, though accidents do happen. Ierendi thrives as a tourist industry, and so it is most welcoming to outsiders unlike their neighbors to the east, the insular Minrothad isles (on which see above). As a naval power Ierendi remains unrivaled (though Minrothad is a close second), thanks to the secret cabal of mages on Honor Island; they use a secret formula to make Ierendi’s fire ships, impervious to damage and able to shoot fire at enemy ships from great distance. There’s a druid colony on another island; albino aborigines on another; a pirate den on another; etc. The king and queen are figureheads more than anything, chosen each year if they can win the royal tournament set on Safari Island. True rule comes from the Tribunal, a cabinet of aristocrats. There is fascinating history to the isles, as it used to be a penal colony for the Thyatian Empire until liberated by pirates. I’m greatly inspired by The Kingdom of Ierendi and it has way more potential than often claimed. Using it in conjunction with The Minrothad Guilds would make for an epic campaign, not to mention a schizophrenic one.
7. The Elves of Alfheim. Steve Perrin, 1988. 4 stars. Canolbarth Forest isn’t Lothlorien by a long shot, but then it shouldn’t be. The elves of D&D are different from Tolkien’s immortals and have more room for the edginess of character one associates with pulp fantasy. That said, the forest of Canolbarth — which covers the whole realm of Alfheim — is strongly enchanted, created by mages who gave it lasting endurance through twelve magic points. These magic points (with names like Glowtree, Shadowdown, Misthaven, Dewdrop, Turnclaw, Dreamland, etc.) preserve the pleasant climate of the forest and arresting plant life all around. On the other hand, three of the twelve magic points have gone bad (named Thornbush, Dragontree, and Stalkbrow) and are unremovable spots of perverted magic, making the forest as dangerous as it is benign. Even the good points can be perilous; for example, non-elves who wander near the magic point of Dreamland have been known to walk away with drastic personality changes. As for the seven clans, they are distinctive, though somewhat vanilla, and could have used more fleshing out. One clan favors contact and trade with outsiders, to the alarm of the other clans. Another is known for its skilled artisans. Another is into tree lore and druid power. Another trains foresters, rangers, and trackers. Another is heavy into magic use, even by elvish standards. Another preserves knowledge as the “librarians” of the forest. And the seventh grooms exceptional warriors. D&D elves aren’t immortal like in Middle-Earth, but they do live long (600-1000 years), and at the time these gazetteers are set (1000 AC), Alfheim is only on its fourth king since the realm was established 1800 years prior. This is a solid gazetteer that does the elves justice.
8. The Dwarves of Rockhome. Aaron Allston, 1988. 4 stars. What strikes me most about The Dwarves of Rockhome is that this region is what I wanted Moria (1984) to be like. Not that Moria was bad, but it felt that ICE’s heart wasn’t quite in the project; the mapwork consisted almost exclusively of route maps, which infuriated me, and it didn’t dive as deep as I would have liked into the dwarven culture. The Dwarves of Rockhome remedies some of the problems I saw with the Tolkien product. If I were running a Middle-Earth campaign, I’d use a lot of the material from this gazetteer to beef up the kingdom of Durin’s Folk. I like the description of the seven clans in particular. One clan is theocratic and produces a lot of dwarven clerics, as well as crusaders against the surrounding threats of orcs and goblins. Another clan is aristocratic. Another is dominated by isolationist zealots. Another pushes advanced technology. Another is into trade. Another is highly militaristic. And the seventh ostracized clan is full of dwarven pariahs. The capital city of Denghar is very well designed; I’d use Upper Denghar in the First Deep of Moria and Lower Denghar in the Second Deep; only a few modifications would be necessary for the other five deeps below and seven levels above. The Dwarves of Rockhome has a good reputation and I join the chorus of praise for it. It fits right at home in either Mystara or Middle-Earth — and probably most any world that has a mountain hive of dwarves.
9. The Grand Duchy of Karameikos. Aaron Allston, 1987. 4 stars. This is a strong #1 favorite for many and I can understand why. Karameikos is an ideal setting for a D&D game, especially beginners, since it’s a frontier setting writ large — settled enough to provide bases from which characters can explore, wild enough to provide endless opportunities for adventure. But I have to agree with James Maliszewski that this is precisely what makes it vanilla: “Beneath the Slavic veneer of the place, it’s your typical fantastic medieval realm with the full panoply of D&D flourishes… a very solid set-up for a standard model of a D&D campaign. However, if you’re hoping for something different, or even just off the beaten path, you’ll likely be disappointed. And I was. I was simply unimpressed.” That’s sort of how I feel about it, though I think I would have loved this gazetteer in my earliest years of playing D&D. It’s the first in the series for good reason. The classic beginner’s module The Keep on the Borderlands is set in Karameikos. Looking at this product today only does so much for me, and it hardly inspires given how far I’ve come with the game. I’m not saying it’s a bad product. I rate it 4, which is very good. But it doesn’t particularly grab me at this point in my gaming career, and culturally speaking it’s rather bland. Since I look to these gazetteers primarily for cultural novelty, The Grand Duchy of Karameikos can only do so much for me.
10. Dawn of the Emperors. Aaron Allston, 1989. 3 ½ stars. I was expecting something more epic here, befitting the rival empires. We’re talking about Rome and Atlantis after all. The Empire of Thyatis (based on the Eastern Roman Empire of 330-1453 AD) and the Empire of Alphatia (mystical land of wizards and magical might) needed far more space and treatment than this product gave it. These are the two giant empires of Mystara, constantly at each other’s throats: Thyatis with its military tradition and feudal nobility valuing law and order, but with an underside of oppression and corruption; Alphatia with its mages, promoting knowledge and freedom, but also with its own dark side of cruelty and elitism against those who can’t work magic. 
The lands of Thyatis and Alphatia each cover far more territory than the rest of the gazetteer regions combined. If you have any doubts, click on the adjacent map. The areas numbered 1-16 in that little pocket on the west are the regions covered in the other Gazetteers. Thyatis and Alphatia are comparatively off the scale. Dawn of the Emperors is a fine enough resource that details all the major areas and cities, their populations, etc., but it all seems a bit dry and vanilla like the Karameikos gazetteer. To put it mildly, this product needed more life breathed into it.
11. The Golden Khan of Ethengar. Jim Bambra, 1989. 3 stars. The analogs for Kublai Khan’s people get a decent enough outing here. The lives of these Mongol-like nomads revolve around horses: “They don’t just breed their horses, they merge their lives with them. They follow the horse, living, eating, and sleeping wherever the horse leads them. Everything else is brought along with them; they leave nothing behind.” The Ethengar are a transient people, and ride as fluently as other races walk. It’s the basis for their superiority as they see it. Eight tribes live on the steppes, each with their own grazing areas, each loyal to its own khan. All serve the Great Khan (the khan of whichever tribe is currently the strongest), but those loyalties sometimes run skin deep. The shaman class is able to summon spirits — nature spirits, undead spirits, and evil spirits from the Land of Black Sand — and perform other spells beyond the reach of standard clerics. I’ve never used this gazetteer, probably because I have minimal interest in Mongol culture, but those who do will find it a helpful resource.
12. The Republic of Darokin. Scott Haring, 1989. 2 stars. From here on down they’re bad. The first of them, The Republic of Darokin, presents a fantasy capitalism where all the rich folks are generous. This is so unrealistic and unlike the approach of the other gazetteers which make their region to be complex and full of internal tensions. (For example, The Minrothad Guilds, at #5 above, portrays a very compelling proto-socialist economy of guild trade.) Darokin society is far too good to be true. Hell, no one even cheats on their taxes in Darokin because things are so rosy. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a capitalist at heart and have no desire to see it demonized as today’s wokes do. But nor do I want to see it romanticized. Even the best political and economic systems have problems and all societies brim with ugliness beneath the surface. Utopias are impossible to achieve on prime material worlds, and yet as written by Scott Haring, the Republic of Darokin comes across like a capitalist utopia. I’m inclined to give the gazetteer a single star, but I throw it two for a couple of good things: the merchant class with a unique set of spells (like count coins, evaluate, ignore road, trust, check load, crowd summoning, silver tongue, inventory), and a helpful section on pack and draft animals, how far they can travel in a day and how much load they can carry.
13. The Orcs of Thar. Bruce Heard, 1988. 1 ½ stars. I find it hard to believe that this product was designed by the same author of The Principalities of Glantri (which absolutely claims the #1 slot on this list). It’s widely derided for its silliness, and in this case I join the consensus. It’s so comedic that it’s farcical, and on top of that, I dislike the hodgepodge approach of throwing every humanoid type — orcs, goblins, hobgoblins, trolls, bugbears, kobolds, ogres — into a single realm. And before you say the Caves of Chaos did the same thing, no, it’s not the same thing. The Caves of Chaos had different tribes of humanoids living in each cave; all fine and well. The Broken Lands are presented as the major realms for each humanoid, all living side by side, which is lazy and artificial. And incidentally, that’s exactly what this gazetteer should have been titled: The Broken Lands, not The Orcs of Thar, since orcs are only part of the bigger picture. That bigger picture is marred by crass juvenile humor. One picture has an orc with a finger jammed up his nose. The map called “The World According to Orcs” shows a rudimentary map of Mystara with name-calling labels, such as “Ierendi Freaks”, “Dwarven Maniacs”, “Happy Campers” (for the Atruaghin Clans), “Our Potatoes” (for the Five Shires), “Their Potatoes” (for the Duchy of Karameikos), “Tree Scum” (for the Elves of Alfheim), “Desert Bums” (for the Emirates of Ylaruam), and you get the drift. I have a sense of humor too, but there’s a time and place, and when it’s all over the map it becomes impossible to take these evil creatures seriously. Not to mention the cartoon drawings and depictions of the humanoid personalities. The Broken Lands should be presented as threatening, deeply menacing, and The Orcs of Thar fails this mandate with flying colors.
14. The Five Shires. Ed Greenwood, 1988. 1 star. I have something of an attitude on hobbits used outside of Middle-Earth. Tolkien made them unique, and when other authors or game designers co-opt his creation they just seem like short humans. The Five Shires is no different, really, and in my gaming years I often pondered removing the halfling race altogether from Mystara and making the Shire region an extended wilderness of the Grand Duchy of Karameikos. Objectively this gazetteer is a good enough source book, and it includes an interesting subclass called the Master, which is a druid-like halfling who leaves his or her clan to nurture the Shires by using lore learned in the past from the elves. There’s some other stuff too. It doesn’t matter: every time I try giving this product its due, I soon put it down. It simply does nothing to inspire me or even want to have hobbits in the world of Mystara.
15. The Shadow Elves. Carl Sargent and Gary Thomas, 1990. 1 star. There are those who applaud this gazetteer for its balanced, nuanced, and fair treatment of the dark elves. I’m not one of them. The classic drow created by Gary Gygax are the only dark elves I acknowledge: the genetically evil race of depraved sadists brought to life in Vault of the Drow. This product instead follows the trend begun in the mid-’80s of bastardizing the drow and turning them into misunderstood minorities. The Shadow Elves, in this sense, represents the concerns of a dawning political correctness. Today it’s outright heresy to speak of evil drow (and evil orcs for that matter), but the seeds of that wokeness go back to the mid-’80s when D&D was being increasingly commercialized and dumbed down for wider appeal. If you want good supplemental material for the drow, read Dragon Magazine #298. It contains some of the best stuff ever written about the dark elves. This gazetteer, by contrast, makes my heart sink on every page. As a result, all of the effort that went into it is wasted on me.
The Busybody 