Speak with Monsters: The Languages of AD&D and the Adventurous Linguist

Language is a hot topic in D&D. You can refer back to my post from early last year, which also serves as a sort of bibliography of the many talking points surrounding the subject. I do think I came up with a rather clever solution to many of the perceived issues with languages in D&D, but it depends on both a more modern, skill-based system as well as a relatively "tight" list of just a few thematic languages, some of which are connected by common scripts.

A tight list of just a few thematic languages is not, however, what you find in AD&D. Let's take a look.

What first got me started on this subject was the random language determination table in the section of the DMG on non-player characters:

There are a lot of languages in AD&D! This is not 5e, where brownies, centaurs, and dryads all speak Sylvan, bugbears, goblins, and hobgoblins all speak Goblin, and dragons, kobolds, and lizard folk all speak Draconic. Tons of monsters - even individual dragon, giant, and naga types - have their own unique languages.

And the random language determination table doesn't even tell the whole story. There is, of course, the "common tongue", spoken by humans and others "in close contact with people":

Then there are the nine alignment languages:

I have a lot to say about alignment languages, but it's such a juicy topic that I'd rather save it for its own post.

Finally, there are the languages tied to classes, namely the language of druids and the Thieves' Cant:

Except that still isn't all of the languages! Entry 86-00 on the random language determination table has the following footnote:

What's this? Unlisted creature languages? Like what?

Well, if you happen to go looking for information about the secret language of druids, you will learn that druids learn the languages of woodland creatures beginning at 3rd level and every level thereafter:

Most of these appear on the random language determination table, but not treantish, so we can add that as another language (faun does not appear either - you have to either check the Monster Manual or use your knowledge of folklore to figure out that faun is just another name for satyr, whose language is already on the random language determination table).

Let's look at the Monster Manual to see which otherwise unlisted creatures have their own languages:

• Beholders
• Blink dogs (They "have a fairly complex language consisting of barks, yaps, whines, and growls.")
• Djinn (Efreet, on the other hand, do not have their own language, but can communicate with any intelligent creature using limited telepathy.)
• Dragon turtles
• Giant eagles
• Giant lynxes
• Giant owls
• Harpies
• Hippocampi
• Ice toads
• Invisible stalkers
• Ixitxachitl (Their Monster Manual entry makes no mention of a language, but sahuagin can apparently speak it.)
• Ki-rin
• Locathah (Their Monster Manual entry makes no mention of a language, but 50% of mermen and all tritons speak it.)
• Lycanthropes (each type has its own language)
• Mermen
• Mimics
• Mind flayers (who also speak "several other weird tongues - purportedly those of terrible races of things which dwell in regions of the subterranean world far deeper than mankind has ever witnessed")
• Otyughs
• Perytons
• Sahuagin
• Sphinxes
• Triton
• Umber hulks
• Unicorns
• Winter wolves
• Worgs

There is also the matter of mundane plants and animals. Spells like speak with animals and speak with plants suggest that communication with these creatures is possible only via magic. However, couatl can speak "most serpent and avian languages". Dryads can speak with plants. Wood elves speak the languages of "certain woods animals". Gnomes can speak with burrowing mammals. Hobgoblins can speak the "rudimentary tongue" of carnivorous apes. Weretigers can speak with cats. 

These are not phrased as magical or spell-like abilities. The dryad's ability to speak with plants is not italicized as if it were the same as the spell. While many of these are magical monsters, the hobgoblin's ability to speak to carnivorous apes does not strike me as magical, but rather as a consequence of the mutual relationship between the two. 

Do all animals and plants in the AD&D world speak their own languages? Do you need to be one of these creature types to talk to them, or else use magic, or are these languages anyone can learn? Do giant eagles, lynxes, and owls speak regular-sized eagle, lynx, and owl? Can you enlist a sage who speaks bird?

These unlisted creature languages raise additional questions. Are those included in the random language determination table simply those which are most common? Does that suggest something about the utility of speaking those languages in the setting? 

Demihuman, humanoid, and fairy creature languages (those of creatures which people might reasonably interact with somewhat frequently) all make sense for a linguist NPC to know. Many of the unlisted creatures are oddballs or those found in the depths of a dungeon or the ocean, suggesting little opportunity to learn their tongues, but plenty of strange and rare creatures find their way onto the main table anyway. I'm not sure how much rhyme or reason there is.

What's with all these languages, anyway? Doesn't a big list of languages simply exacerbate D&D's oft-discoursed language issue?

And yes, it does. But there are ways to get around it. I was surprised to find that demihuman player characters speak a lot of languages. See here:

What surprised me is that, if my interpretation is correct, all player characters of these races know how to speak all of these languages by default. Before I read the text closely, my ideas about starting languages for player characters were certainly informed by 2e, in which the languages listed were simply the initial languages the player could choose for their character to know at the beginning of play (depending on the number of languages they could learn, as determined by Intelligence). 1e is much more generous when it comes to initial known languages.

Half-orc characters can speak three languages, dwarf characters can speak seven, gnomes and halflings can speak eight, and, as usual, elves and half-elves reign supreme - they can speak nine languages. Clearly, demihumans are the diplomats of adventuring parties! Humans, by comparison, are totally uncultured brutes. 

One interesting thing to point out is that demihumans speak the languages of both demihumans and humanoids. Elves speak gnome, halfling, and the language of mankind, but also goblin, hobgoblin, orcish, and gnoll - languages of "Evil" races with which they are typically at odds. Gnomes hate kobolds and goblins enough to add +1 to hit when engaging them in combat, but also speak their language. This could be merely so they can hurl insults during battle, but in that case, surely only a few crude words are needed, not fluency.

On the other hand, goblins and kobolds do not speak gnome. Elves can speak the language of gnolls and hobgoblins, but gnolls and hobgoblins don't speak the language of elves. Dwarves speak orcish, but orcs don't speak dwarvish. That's not to say that the humanoids are not themselves linguists - gnolls speak troll and "often (60%)" orcish and/or hobgoblin, goblins speak kobold, orcish, and hobgoblin, hobgoblins speak goblin, orcish, and carnivorous ape, kobolds "usually (75%)" speak goblin and orcish, and the majority of orcs speak goblin, hobgoblin, and ogre.

This design choice makes sense if you assume the point of view of a bioessentialist colonialist - the "civilized" demihumans are more intelligent and have a greater capacity for linguistics than the "monstrous" humanoids. According to the Monster Manual, all demihumans are very intelligent or highly intelligent, and all humanoids are of low to average intelligence. I'm obviously not the first to point out that this is problematic.

You could also interpret it through the lens of alignment. The demihuman races are Good, and it is Good to try to understand your neighbors' perspective and attempt to communicate with them - for example, to negotiate peace or establish trade. The humanoid races are Evil, so they may be more likely to learn the languages only of their prospective allies (or the enemies of their enemies), so as to better plot against their foes. That might not work for you either, depending on your feelings about prescribing morality to entire races of people, but I do prefer it to the former explanation. It feels more like mythic fantasy than fantasy racism.

Moving on from...all that, let's assume a hypothetical scenario in which the player characters' party consists of at least one character from each of the demihuman races. Here is that same random language determination table, with the languages in which the party is able to communicate highlighted:

That's a good chunk of the most frequently spoken languages checked off the list!

Let's push the unlikely hypothetical scenario a bit further and assume that a human or half-elf in the group is a druid. As previously mentioned, druids learn the language of a woodland creature at 3rd level, then learn another every level thereafter. A 13th level archdruid can eventually add the following languages to the party's repertoire:

Then there is, of course, the opportunity for player characters to learn additional languages. This is determined by Intelligence:

There are additional limits imposed (and bonus languages granted) by race. Dwarves, gnomes, and half-orcs can learn at most two additional languages, regardless of Intelligence. Half-elves and halflings can learn an additional language for each point of Intelligence above 16 (i.e., 2 additional languages at Intelligence 18, so 9 additional languages total), while elves can learn an additional language for each point of Intelligence above 15 (3 additional languages at Intelligence 18 for a total of 10 additional languages).

To learn a new language, the player character must spend time with someone (broadly speaking - it can be any creature) that speaks the language:

This is then taken to its logical conclusion - capture monsters and force them to teach you their language!:

Maybe something to do with your subdued dragon before you auction it off? Perhaps you can force your giant beaver slaves to teach you the language of water-dwelling mammals?

It might make sense while traveling with a party of adventurers - each of which knows their own assortment of languages - to pick up some of what they know. However, you're better off learning languages which are unknown to the rest of the party, thus expanding the linguistic capabilities of the party as a whole. D&D is, after all, a team sport (something that Redditors who spend their time comparing the damage output of different 5e builds - and laboriously bemoaning the inequity - could stand to learn).

Still, even if you have a party of 18 Intelligence demihumans with a pet druid and thief, it seems unlikely that one party could ever learn every one of these hyper-specific languages. 

"Isn't that what alignment languages are for?" you might ask, and the answer is NO! Alignment languages are a totally different thing! There's some baggage there. Again, a topic for another time.

There are yet a handful of solutions to the language problem remaining. At 1st-level, magic-users can cast comprehend languages (rangers can do it at 9th level, and illusionists can do it at 14th level):

I did not realize the caster has to touch the creature which is speaking. Better not to try this with the angry manticore! This also does not impart the ability to speak the creature's language, so communication is more or less one way. Useful for determining intent and acquiring information, at least.

Also at 1st level, druids can speak with animals (clerics and monks can do it at 3rd level, rangers can do it at 8th level, and paladins can do it at 11th level):

Note that this also functions almost like a charm spell. It prevents animals from attacking and allows the caster to be on amicable terms with them. Are giant animals "basically normal, non-fantastic creatures"? What about carnivorous apes? Dinosaurs?

At 5th level, magic-users can cast tongues (clerics can do it at 7th level, and paladins can do it at 15th level):

This unlocks communication with all speaking creatures, but only briefly, and in a small area - a 60-yard circle outdoors and a 60-foot circle indoors. 60 feet is within striking distance in a dungeon environment, and 180 feet in the wilderness is not all that much when speaking to a band of 150 orcs or a gang of teenaged dragons. The spell only lasts 10 minutes, so whatever you have to say, say it quick.

At 6th level, druids can speak with plants (clerics can do it at 7th level, monks at 8th level, and paladins at 15th level):

Like speak with animals, it's almost like a pseudo-charm spell, as it sounds like the caster can basically command the plants as well.

At 11th level, clerics can speak with monsters:

This is similar to tongues, but it can affect more monsters at a time (but only one type of monster per casting of the spell), and will last a bit longer (just one minute longer at 11th level, but up to twice as long at 20th level).

Interestingly, while clerics get the most spells which allow them to talk to things, it is the magic-user who, at 16th level, might make the effects of a comprehend languages or tongues spell permanent (upon themselves only) using permanency (at the cost of 1 point of Constitution per effect):

Thus, with a permanent tongues spell cast upon themselves, the magic-user can become the party's foremost diplomat. Hopefully, they have a high Charisma.

Consider also the value of a telepathic psionic:

Or the rare bard, who picks up an additional 15 languages (without needing to study them) throughout their career:

(This in addition to having several levels of druid and the bonus languages which come with them, since bards in 1e are weird.)

There are magic items to consider as well, such as the helm of comprehending languages and reading magic:

Or you could luck out with an exceptionally intelligent magic sword:

If my calculations are correct, .000176% of magic swords can speak their alignment language plus 10 additional languages. That would be a very useful sword indeed!

So yeah. There are a lot of languages in AD&D - so many in fact that they cannot all fit on the big table which lists all the languages an NPC might speak. The people who reside in the AD&D world, however - from the most intelligent elf to the most dimwitted gnoll - are linguists. Everyone speaks at least two languages, every demihuman and many humanoids speak several, and even a human player character of below average intelligence can pick up a new one, given access and time - from something as commonplace as halfling to the strange language of mind flayers. Any NPC who has reason to know an additional language has a 1% chance of speaking the obscure tongue of the lammasu. 

At the same time, the sheer number of languages poses a considerable challenge. Even the most fluent of player character parties cannot hope to speak the language of every creature they meet. For this, there are spells and magic items, but even these are limited. Spells require forethought and preparation, allow for only brief conversations, and put the caster within arms reach of potential enemies. Magic items are few and far between, and talking swords rarer still. 

It is a far cry from modern versions of the game, where two characters in the same adventuring party might begin at 1st level each speaking the language of demons, and where the tongues spell lasts a full hour and has a range as long as the volume of the speaker's voice. AD&D expects player characters to sacrifice precious spell slots in case they will want to speak to some odd creature encountered by chance, enlist sages to tutor them in linguistics, and capture monsters to learn their languages. It is costly and sometimes dangerous to speak with monsters.

Is it good game design? Is it fun? One criticism of languages in D&D is that players may have no idea which languages are most useful to know until the campaign has started and they've already made their selections. Because the number of languages known is often limited, and languages can't simply be forgotten to make way for new ones, this cannot be remedied. The proliferation of specific languages for every type of monster only exacerbates this issue.

The more important criticism of languages in D&D is one of player agency. If a monster speaks a language the player characters do not know, and they do not have the right spell prepared or the right magic item, they cannot hope to speak to it. If they can't hope to speak to it, they can't negotiate with it. They can't learn anything from it. If they're lucky, they can ignore it. If they're not, they can only fight it. They don't have a choice.

As my previous post on the subject hopefully made clear, I'm in favor of a simultaneously more lenient but restrained approach. I don't much like the one hundred specific languages of AD&D and its hyperintelligent elves who can speak nineteen of them, but I also don't particularly care for modern D&D's handful of languages which can be spoken trivially easily by even the party's dumbest character, given the right proficiencies. 

I like a D&D world where everything talks - even the plants and animals - and does so in its own bespoke language. I also like adventurous linguists. I don't want them to be perfectly fluent in six languages, but I do think it's reasonable that adventurers would know the occasional word here or there which would allow them to more or less get by in conversations with a variety of odd creatures. They would probably know the mind flayer word for "brains" and the sphinx word for "riddle".

Let the player characters have a few languages they're comfortable in, and the chance to pick up a word or two in those they're not. Give them the choice to at least try to talk to whatever, even if they don't "know" its language, and the choice to invest more in those languages which seem particularly important.

And remember that if they are able to talk to that creature, dealing with it should still always be expensive and irritating.

Adventurers Are a Threat to the Established Order

An excerpt from the AD&D DMG, under MONSTER POPULATIONS AND PLACEMENT, page 91:

I found this paragraph interesting for a few reasons. 

First, in AD&D the assumption is that the player characters are "the most aggressive" characters (or character-types) in the area of play. This is not to imply that they are the only adventurers active in the area. After all, character-types appear on both the dungeon and wilderness random encounter tables:

Rather, I think the purpose of this assumption is to afford the player characters the maximum amount of agency. They are not "special" in that they are the only adventurers running around doing stuff, but they are the adventurers most uniquely motivated to enact serious change in the region. It's fun to encounter, compete with, and even fight rival adventuring parties, so their activity in the area is still a must, but the proverbial ball is still very much in the player characters' court.

The second point of interest is that there are, of course, character-types in the area of play who are both higher-level and more capable than the player characters. This is evidenced by the fact that there are strongholds in the wilderness ruled by character-types of, at minimum, 9th-level:

However, "the game assumes that these characters have other things to do with their time, that they do not generally care to take the risks connected with adventuring, and they will happily allow the player characters to stand the hazards". This meshes very nicely with a previous post of mine, in which I argued that high-level NPCs will not or cannot solve the problems of their domain because they are either Evil, incompetent, indifferent, or powerless, thus leaving such problems to the player characters to deal with (this I wrote before ever reading this section of the AD&D DMG).

This is consistent with other advice in the DMG, where Gygax states repeatedly and in no uncertain terms that high-level NPCs should be difficult to deal with and that player characters who make a habit of relying on such NPCs for aid will simply provoke the NPCs' ire over time. 

While 1 to 2% of individuals in a settlement will be leveled character-types (and presumably a portion will be high-level), if the player characters wish to recruit help in their adventuring activities, they'll need to instead call on the 10% of those individuals who are henchmen looking for work - and even those are the pitiable wretches of the adventuring profession who are instead looking to benefit from the food, lodging, equipment, shares of treasure, and protection which their employers are expected to offer them.

On the other hand, this isn't very consistent with the aforementioned dungeon and wilderness encounter tables, which insist that high-level characters are not only present in lower levels of the dungeon:

...but are also the only such characters encountered in uninhabited/wilderness areas:

This suggests that high-level character-type NPCs do in fact "care to take the risks connected with adventuring", albeit not "generally". The assumption still stands that the player characters are "the most aggressive types in the area", however. The high-level NPCs must simply be adventuring as a bit of a lark. Perhaps they're on a vacation of sorts, trying to remember what it's like to feel young, alive, and hopeful? Who can relate?

While there is some overlap in level with those NPCs who would typically rule a stronghold, there's no indication that these high-level NPCs belong to such a place (if they did, surely they would be accompanied by a larger force). My inclination is to treat these NPCs as adventurers who do not yet have holdings of their own. Unlike the current iteration of D&D, strongholds in AD&D do not simply materialize out of thin air once the character has attained a certain level. The AD&D world is also filled with high-level NPC bandit leaders and the like who do not necessarily possess holdings, so we can presume that it is not uncommon for high-level NPCs to be without them.

(As an interesting aside, character-type NPC adventurers are not randomly encountered in inhabited areas, only in wilderness areas. Presumably this is because those in inhabited areas are holed up in settlements or in their strongholds, though it is strange that they may not be encountered on the road between places. I will chalk this up to an oversight rather than intent to imply something about the setting.

Also interesting is that in dungeons, only character-type NPCs of 1st- through 4th-level and 6th- through 13th-level - and perhaps higher - may be encountered, while in the wilderness only such NPCs of 7th- through 10th-level may be encountered. Where are all the 5th-level characters? And why do NPCs higher than 10th-level abandon wilderness adventures to return to dungeon environs? To avoid getting ahead of myself, and because ultimately it is probably not meaningful, I'll forego examining this further, but I invite others to put forth a contrived explanation.)

While there are high-level character-type NPCs out adventuring, the assumption is that most are not interested in doing so. Instead, "they will happily allow the player characters to stand the hazards" of adventuring. The player characters are after all "aggressive" (read more accurately, probably, as "overactive"), so why not let them expend their energy in a mutually productive way? Adventuring is referred to here as "dirty work" and, if the player characters are successful, the NPCs are assumed to benefit. Player character adventurers sound a lot like simple-minded pawns to be exploited by those wise enough to be content with wielding their power in relative safety, but that's not the whole story. 

The third point of interest in this excerpt is that it suggests that NPCs view the presence of adventurers as a threat to the "established order". If the player characters are indeed the most aggressive/overactive adventurers in the region, this makes sense. They have to deal with the aforementioned Gygaxian expensive and irritating NPCs, nobles and powerful officials who will embroil them in social conflict at the slightest insult in the city streets, tax them relentlessly and indenture them to servitude if they fail to pay, and subject them to them to hefty tolls if they wish merely to use the road to travel to the nearest dungeon to make their fortune. Gygax has ensured that the established order kind of sucks - what player character wouldn't chafe against it?

Not only does the NPC reap the benefits of successful adventures by utilizing the player characters as pawns, but the NPC also removes the player characters to some more remote frontier area where they pose less of a threat. Here Gygax makes a direct comparison between adventurers and Wild West "gunfighter-lawmen" like wild Bill Hickok and Wyatt Earp - transient individualist vigilante-types who might bring order (at the end of the barrel of a gun) to frontier places temporarily, only to later be replaced by a more permanent, less dangerous lawman approved by the establishment. The gunfighter-lawman would then move on to the next frontier and do it all over again. Sound about right? D&D is not medieval! It's a Western. 

But adventurers need not always threaten the established order. Eventually, they might build a stronghold, "which will help to maintain the stability of the area" (emphasis mine). The adventurer thus becomes part of the establishment.

That is probably an oversimplification, as just because one has a stronghold, that does not necessarily mean that the player character is beholden to the existing establishment. The land-holding AD&D fighter is not generally vassal to another, higher-ranking lord - the fighter does not necessarily pay taxes and is not necessarily called upon to provide fighting men to anyone else, although this is a possibility. 

The landed player character does, however, have a self-interested motivation to clear the area around their stronghold, patrol it regularly, and provide for the safety of their tax-paying subjects. This does not preclude the possibility of warring with or otherwise menacing their neighbors, but perhaps maintaining "stability" (i.e., the absence of monsters) is valued enough by the establishment such that it more or less looks the other way when it comes to other threats posed by these types.

The takeaways here are thus: while player characters are not the only adventurers active in a given area, they are assumed to be the "most active", perhaps to afford the players the level of agency required for an engaging game. They are not (at least not at the start of play) the most powerful characters, either. More powerful character-types adventure as well, but not generally. Instead, powerful character-types elect to use the player characters as pawns. This serves dual purposes - it spares the NPC the labor and danger of adventuring while allowing them to reap the passive benefits, and also removes threats to their power to more remote and dangerous locations. 

The player characters are viewed as threats by the powers-that-be. While the player characters' adventures may allow them to accumulate more power (and thus more threat potential), the assumption is that they will ultimately settle down in their strongholds and contribute to the greater good of the region my stabilizing the frontier areas where they once made their fortune, thus bringing themselves into the fold of the established order.

Much like the Gygaxian maxim that NPCs should be expensive and irritating to deal with, this notion should color every interaction the player characters have with the local rulers. Adventurers are useful, but also ambitious, unpredictable, and dangerous. They are outsiders to circles of power...until they're not. 

The only way in from the cold for them is not merely to serve as pawns, in which state they will always be viewed as threats, but to prove their ultimate usefulness by allowing the march of civilization to take another step forward by the conquest and holding of dominion over the wilderness. While that may not be every player character's ultimate goal, they will remain outsiders unless it is achieved.

Dealing with NPCs Should Be Expensive and Irritating

Look at this guy's face:

He's mad!

Why? Probably because, per the AD&D DMG, dealing with NPCs "should be expensive and irritating":

The example that follows is very funny and very Appendix N:

Poor Celowin Silvershield first visits a local tavern to learn of the location of a high-level magic-user. The people there are vague and unhelpful until plied with several rounds of drinks (the bartender, of course, must also be taken care of). In the streets Celowin is "pestered unendingly" by a beggar until he either pays (attracting "a swarm of other beggars") or calls the watch, who may in turn take offense to Celowin's lack of generosity. 

Upon reaching the magic-user's tower, Celowin must pay off a petty henchman or risk having the door slammed in his face. When he finally gets an audience with Llewellyn ap-Owen, the wizard immediately takes umbrage with his presence and demands substantial payment before granting any request. If Celowin does not have what the wizard wants, a geas will be laid upon him to force him to go acquire it.

The section preceding this one, PERSONAE OF NON-PLAYER CHARACTERS contains a variety of "FACTS TABLES" for determining NPCs' alignment, possessions/wealth, appearance, and sanity, as well as "TRAITS TABLES" for determining general tendencies, personality, disposition, intellect, nature, materialism, honesty, bravery, energy, thrift, "morals" (which Gygax clarifies means "sexual tendencies" - cool!), piety, interests, and, if their interests include collecting, what it is they collect. 

These traits somehow affect reaction rolls, as suggested by this almost entirely unhelpful section:

While the usage of the term is an oft-discoursed topic these days, the bit about sanity is amusing, as less-sane NPCs have more variable reaction adjustments which can go in either direction, ensuring that dealing with these individuals is particularly irritating.

While "NPCs will have some alignment", as well as varying levels of sanity and other traits which may affect their reactions, they are nonetheless, apparently, universally greedy and avaricious (and, presumably, annoying). 

Gygax uses the same general tone when discussing the recruitment of NPC spellcasters:

The prices that follow are pretty hefty (and these are just the prices if the player characters are of a similar alignment/religion as the NPC):

(As an aside, there is something very funny about paying an NPC 10,000 gold to cause a magical earthquake.)

Of course, the fees can be much greater:

(This bit about traveling "any distance" makes the fee for an earthquake spell even more amusing. I can imagine a situation where you might want a cleric to travel to a dungeon or enemy stronghold and cause an earthquake there, but 10,000 gold is the fee to cast earthquake without traveling, suggesting that for some reason adventurers are going to the temple in the city or wherever and paying the cleric to cause an earthquake there. Why?)

If the players complain about the cost of spellcasting services, Gygax for some reason recommends quoting scripture at them:

Oh, but that's nice. If the task would further the cleric's own agenda, they'll accept an IOU - it will just be more expensive in the long run.

And don't try getting cute with enchantments, or else the stone to flesh spell intended for your petrified fellow might instead become a flesh to stone spell targeting you:

If the players think they've found an NPC spellcaster to rely on for the foreseeable future, they're out of luck:

There's no such thing as valued repeat customers when those customers are stupid, filthy, meddlesome adventurers. Every request made by such ilk is nothing less than an insulting intrusion!

Between expensive and irritating NPC dealings, taxes, tolls, and encounters disguised "using vagueness and similarity", Gygax paints a portrait of urban life in AD&D which stands in stark contrast to dungeon and wilderness play. Dungeons are deadly labyrinths of monsters, tricks, traps, and treasure, and the wilderness in between is dotted with strongholds (both those ruled by powerful character-type NPCs and those totally deserted for one reason or another), monster lairs, and highly variable random encounters with gangs of teenaged dragons. 

Settlements by comparison will appear tame and safe. For the most part, they are. The player characters might run into the occasional group of assassins, bandits, ruffians, rakes, thieves, a press gang, or even a demon, devil, doppelganger, or undead creature, but they will mostly just wander around interacting with NPCs. They don't have to poke every section of the cobblestone path with a ten-foot pole to check for traps, and they won't run into an orc warband 300 strong.

However, the AD&D city or town is not a friendly and welcoming cosmopolitan metropolis - even those NPCs who do not wish to do harm (that is, the ones that don't plan to deceive, tax, indenture, rob, or kill the player characters) will still be resistant to helping and will demand exorbitant compensation in exchange for their aid. Every interaction is a challenge of wealth and patience. The settlement is not a place where the player characters earn their fortune or assert their power over a domain - it is a place that drains their coffers, where more powerful individuals lord over them. The settlement is an adversary of a different kind.

That is all to say, while dungeons and the wilderness are sites of adventure, the city stands in contrast as a site of misadventure, hijinks, and shenanigans, where the Picaresque adventures of Appendix N are painstakingly played out, very rarely to the player characters' gain.