Ah, the Dungeons & Dragons Companion Set, published in 1983, the third glorious step in the BECMI ladder (Basic, Expert, Companion, Master, Immortal). This is the point where adventurers start levelling into the kind of territory where monsters become footnotes, dragons run in fear, and player characters start acquiring dominions, retainers, and perhaps most thrilling of all monthly tax revenue.

For players who made it through the kobold infested dungeons of the Basic Set and the wilderness hex crawls of the Expert Set, the Companion Set was the well earned payoff. It was the stage where your character became not just a hero but The Hero, wielding power and responsibility that would make any spider-bitten teenager in tights blush.

So grab your battle scarred d20, dust off that Level 15 fighter, and let’s explore the kingdom ruling, dominion defending, war waging chaos of the Dungeons & Dragons Companion Set (1983).

The Architects Behind the Scrolls

First things first, this set was masterminded by Frank Mentzer yes, that Frank Mentzer, the man behind the entire BECMI line. By the time the Companion Set rolled around, he had already revamped the Basic and Expert sets with a clean, logical structure that scaled with characters as they grew from goblin fodder to world-shaping titans.

The Companion Set was released by TSR in two volumes: the Player’s Companion: Book One and the Dungeon Master’s Companion: Book Two. Each was 64 pages of crunchy mechanics, sweeping ideas, and the occasional hilarious chart, packaged in a familiar red box that probably still smells like someone’s mom’s basement.

It was designed for characters from levels 15 to 25, a range that was positively stratospheric by early 1980s standards. Most campaigns never made it past Level 7, so the Companion Set was either a glorious promise or a tantalizing impossibility.

Where Dungeons Meet Diplomacy

What makes the Companion Set fascinating isn’t just its mechanics, but its shift in focus. Basic and Expert were about crawling through dungeons and mapping wildernesses. Companion? Companion was about domain management. It was SimCity with swords.

If you were a fighter, you could establish a stronghold, attract loyal followers, and become the local lord. If you were a cleric, congrats! You’re now bishop of a major religion. Magic users could finally take on apprentices and brew potions by the cauldron full. Thieves, ever the opportunists, could found a guild and rake in the profits.

But here’s the best part: your dominion came with responsibilities. The Companion Set introduced the Dominions system, a surprisingly complex (but thrilling) mechanic for ruling lands, collecting taxes, managing morale, dealing with internal rebellion, and possibly facing external invasion. There were random event tables, income and expense sheets, and rules for keeping your subjects from hurling pitchforks at your keep.

It was a delightful shift in tone. One day you’re slaying demons; the next you’re holding a town hall meeting about road repair.

War! What Is It Good For? Well… XP, Mostly.

If the Basic and Expert sets were about individual heroics, the Companion Set was about mass conflict. That meant war huge armies, siege engines, supply lines, the works. The set introduced the War Machine system, a brilliant bit of abstraction that allowed DMs to run entire wars without rolling 600d6 for every battlefield manoeuvre.

The War Machine let you boil down a force’s effectiveness into a Battle Rating (BR), which was then pitted against another force’s BR to resolve conflicts in a matter of minutes. It accounted for training, morale, equipment, terrain, and leadership. So yes, your PC’s inspiring speech could turn the tide of battle. Eat your heart out, Braveheart.

For players used to skirmishing with six goblins at a time, this was a revelation. Now they could command legions, raise armies, defend their borders, or invade enemy territories like a fantasy Napoleon with a better hat.

Of course, in practice, the War Machine system sometimes devolved into number crunching and endless arguments about grain supplies. But when it worked, it turned the campaign into a grand strategy epic. Risk, but with dragons.

The Companion Classes Get Buffed (Literally)

The Companion Set also expanded player abilities in a way that didn’t just add numbers it added depth. Class features evolved to reflect the characters’ elevated status in the world.

Fighters, now called Lords, gained the ability to establish dominions and attract armies. They became central political and military figures.

Clerics, or Patriarchs, could cast high level spells, build temples, and begin spreading their faith. With rules on religious influence and domain level followers, clerics finally got to feel like divine rockstars.

Magic-users, now Wizards, got a delightful new toy: the ability to craft magic items and spell scrolls. With access to the highest levels of arcane power, they became both magical artillery and terrifying political entities.

Thieves, rather glamorously renamed Guildmasters, could set up underworld networks, manipulate cities from the shadows, and rake in gold with protection rackets. In short, they became mob bosses in pantaloons.

There was even guidance on how to retire characters gracefully or, at least, transition them into NPC status when your new Level 1 bard started his journey. After all, it’s hard to focus on dungeon crawling when you’ve got a castle to maintain and serfs demanding lower taxes.

New Spells, New Powers, New Headaches

As if that weren’t enough, the Companion Set ramped up the magical mayhem with new spells for clerics and magic-users that reached 7th, 8th, and 9th levels. Yes, the truly game breaking stuff.

Clerics got access to miracle level spells like Holy Word, Sunray, and the vaguely terrifying Exorcism (finally, a way to remove that pesky demon from your Aunt Karen). Magic users could now cast Meteor Swarm, Power Word Kill, and Time Stop, spells that made wizards feel like walking nukes.

The rules also included new magical research mechanics. Want to make a scroll that disintegrates doors? Go for it. Want to enchant your cloak to whistle ominously? The rules had your back.

But with great power came great opportunities for campaign destruction. The Companion Set had to strike a careful balance between player creativity and campaign survival. It mostly succeeded depending on how lenient your DM was about temporal paradoxes.

The Quest for Immortality Begins

Another massive shift in the Companion Set was its tease for the next big thing: Immortality. Characters who reached the lofty heights of Level 25 could start the process of becoming Immortals beings who existed beyond the mortal plane, meddling in the affairs of entire worlds like cosmic chess players with an addiction to purple lightning.

The Companion Set didn’t provide all the rules (those were saved for the Master and Immortals Sets), but it did plant the seeds. There were hints about the Paths to Immortality, requirements for sponsorship by existing Immortals, and tasks that would make the Twelve Labors of Hercules look like a weekend hobby.

It was an audacious idea: turning your dungeon crawling rogue into a godlike being who could bend reality. But hey, if your character survived 25 levels of gelatinous cubes, mimic filled chests, and interplanar bureaucracy, why not?

Monsters, Maps, and More

The Companion Set didn’t forget the Dungeon Masters, either. Book Two introduced a trove of new monsters designed to challenge higher level characters. These weren’t your garden variety skeletons or owlbears these were nasties like draconic hybrids, supercharged demons, and deadly constructs.

Some of them had special attacks that bypassed armor entirely, others required specific magical counters, and still others existed just to make DMs chuckle while players cried.

There were also expanded rules on stronghold sieges, dominion politics, espionage, and even underwater adventures (because what’s the point of ruling a landlocked kingdom when you can go full Atlantis?). It offered more charts, more tables, more mechanics everything a detail loving DM could want.

The set even included guidelines for handling retirement, succession, and multi generational campaigns. If your 24th level thief died of old age, you could continue the saga with their offspring, ward, or even bitter rival.

The Legacy of the Companion Set

The Companion Set was both a culmination and an evolution. It fulfilled the BECMI promise of a level based game that grew in scope and depth. It also laid the groundwork for future game systems that wanted to include kingdom building, warfare, and high level play.

In many ways, the Companion Set was a precursor to modern D&D’s attempts at “Tier 3 and Tier 4” play those elusive high level campaigns that almost no one finishes but everyone dreams about.

Its dominion and warfare systems inspired later editions and even spin off products like Birthright. Its rules for magical research, crafting, and apprentices foreshadowed elements in 3rd Edition and Pathfinder. And its ambitious handling of character growth beyond “more hit points and better loot” remains one of the most aspirational parts of classic D&D.

Even today, retro clone systems like Old School Essentials and Labyrinth Lord nod respectfully toward the Companion Set’s innovations. After all, it’s one thing to fight monsters. It’s another thing entirely to own the dungeon, tax the monsters, and annex the neighbouring barony.

Final Thoughts: When Heroes Become Legends

The Dungeons & Dragons Companion Set wasn’t just about bigger numbers and better spells it was about evolving the role of the player character. You weren’t just a dungeon delver anymore. You were a leader, a legend, and a potential god.

Yes, it could get crunchy. Yes, bookkeeping dominion finances wasn’t everyone’s idea of a thrilling Friday night. But it offered something few RPGs dared to in 1983: a sense of continuity and consequence. A world that changed because your character changed.

So, if you’ve never cracked open the Companion Set, consider giving it a read. And if your Level 4 bard is still working on their first lute solo, dream big. One day, that bard might be organizing an inter-kingdom treaty while fending off a siege and writing a magical anthem that stops time.

Because in the world of BECMI, anything is possible. Especially if you bring a spreadsheet.