In theory, party order is a neat line where everyone stays in place. In reality, boredom, fatigue, and rough terrain can all conspire to break it up. The rigid lines drawn on paper rarely survive the messy reality of dynamic environments and human (or adventuring party) nature.
Trail Order
In the real world, particularly during hikes, trail order naturally adapts to the group's dynamics and the terrain. There are three types: Single File Order (self-explanatory), Group Order (side-by-side), and Animal Order (an important but often-forgotten trail order to allow for an animal and its handler that can be side-by-side or creature-in-front-handler behind).In my own experience hiking at Philmont Scout Ranch, Trail Order is more of an ideal than a rigid formation. The slower members of a hiking group (i.e., me) often gravitate towards the rear, ideally accompanied by a more capable individual acting as a "sweep" to ensure no one falls behind or gets lost. The most experienced navigator typically leads the way, often with a buddy for support or discussion. Trail Order shifts between single file and group based on the room available on the trail, which group being preferred when moving more leisurely and when everyone has energy enough to chat.
Which is to say that Trail Order is organic. It optimizes for comfort, safety, and maintaining group cohesion over long distances. It's a living formation, constantly adjusting to individual fatigue levels, conversational needs, and the immediate demands of the path.
Marching Order
In Dungeons & Dragons, Marching Order is the conceptual equivalent, providing a fixed moment in space for player characters relative to each other. Even without miniatures on a battle grid, this established order allows the Dungeon Master to determine who is potentially impacted first by traps, ambushes, or environmental hazards. Older versions of D&D used Marching Order to fix characters conceptually in place within dungeons, so that issues like surprise, reach, and direction could be resolved quickly. It's often used with Theater of the Mind-style play.Broadly, the three categories are front, back, and middle. Strategically, players often consider who is weakest, strongest, and where support roles like casters and healers can best operate. Typically, tanks and frontline fighters position themselves at the vanguard to absorb blows, while rogues might skulk in the rear for stealth or to handle back-line threats. Casters and healers often remain safely in the middle, able to reach all party members with spells and aid.
Of course, Marching Order is sometimes overridden by circumstances. Rogues who might normally be in back will need to shift to the front to detect, avoid, and disarm traps. Chilchuck, the halfling rogue in the anime and manga Delicious in Dungeon, frequently points out that he is no fighter and expects to be in the back rank in combat, but for the safety of the party demands to be in the front when dungeon exploring.
Similarly, pathfinders (like rangers) who need to track or find a trail will be in front. Casters with area effect spells like globes of invulnerability need to be in the center of the party. And injured party members might move to the back. Weapon reach and ranges matter a lot too; the rogue can do plenty of damage from the back rank with a shortbow, and mid-rank members who have reach weapons can support.
This all sounds good of course ... until someone casts fireball.
When Order Breaks
Both Trail Order and D&D Marching Order, despite their initial logic, inevitably fall apart under stress. In the wilderness, trail order is highly fluid. People get bored and want to chat with different companions, shifting positions. Fatigue can cause someone to slow down and move to the back, necessitating a companion to drop back with them. At significant crossroads or when terrain dramatically shifts, the order may naturally reorganize to best handle the new challenges.A common Scouting practice for managing slower members is to put them in the front. Practically, this makes sense; in reality, it makes an embarassing situation (the slowest hiker) feel the pressure to try to keep up. I was given this offer several times and declined, if only because I didn't want to feel the entire weight of everyone glaring into my back (which wasn't the case of course, but in the moment, can feel like it). Conversely, I didn't want to be last either, if only for fear of falling so far behind that I would need to ask for the group to slow down. As it was, I became the pacesetter for the group anyway, asking them to slow down and take breaks.
Similarly, Marching Order in a dungeon is not an unbreakable formation. Threats of area-of-effect attacks (like a dragon's breath or a fireball spell) instantly shatter any tight grouping, as clustering together becomes deadly. The terrain itself, much like a hiking trail, might make adhering to a rigid line impossible; narrow ledges might force single-file movement, while wide caverns could encourage spreading out. Differing movement speeds between party members, or the sudden need for a rogue to scout ahead, further contribute to this natural disorganization. The illusion of a fixed order dissipates rapidly when the pressure is on.
Stick With Your Buddy!
The concept of an established order, be it on a hiking trail or marching through a dungeon, is a great thought experiment for how adventurers move during the overland parts of an adventure. However, "order" is a fluid thing that changes constantly under the pressure of terrain, fatigue, and hostile conditions. DMs who want to disrupt a party's perfect formation require just a little nudge: exhaustion (so PCs fall behind), traps and ambush monsters (so weaker members are forced to redefine their flanks), and area effect spells (e.g., FIREBALL!) will quickly scatter PCs.And yet it's worth establishing who stands where in a hostile environment. Keeping the party orderly can mean the difference between the fighter blocking attacks with his shield... or the cleric getting knifed in the back.
