Let’s talk about Greg Bell, the artist behind some of the earliest visuals in Dungeons & Dragons. It’s no secret that Bell wasn’t exactly crafting his work from scratch—he lifted a good chunk of his art from other sources. Now, before you grab your pitchforks, hear me out: as a professional artist myself, I’m not clutching my pearls over this. In fact, I’d argue it’s not as scandalous as it might sound. Artists have been begging, borrowing, and, yes, stealing ideas since the second caveman to draw an aurochs on the cave wall did. The trick is in the spin—taking something old and breathing new life into it, giving it a creative twist that makes it your own.
Take Norman Rockwell, for instance. In his semi-autobiographical gem, My Adventures as an Illustrator, he casually admits to swiping a pirate ship straight from Howard Pyle for his family tree illustration. No apologies, no fuss—just an artist solving a problem with a little help from a predecessor. And Rockwell’s hardly alone. Comic book artists are notorious for this kind of thing. Sometimes, you’re stuck, you can’t find the perfect reference, and lo and behold, another artist has already nailed the composition you need. Why reinvent the wheel when it’s rolling right in front of you?
Greg Bell, though? He was no seasoned pro. He was a young, amateur artist thrust into the wild, scrappy early days of D&D. So, I’m inclined to cut him some slack. What fascinates me more than the act of borrowing itself is playing detective—tracking down the origins of his pilfered pieces. It’s like a treasure hunt through illustration history, and I recently stumbled across a gem I’m not sure has gotten attention. (Maybe it has, and I just missed the memo—let me know if I’m late to the party!)
Here’s the scoop: the cover for The Underworld and Wilderness Adventures, one of those iconic early D&D booklets, looks like it was lifted almost wholesale from N.C. Wyeth’s The Winged Horse, an illustration from Legends of Charlemagne published back in 1924. The resemblance is uncanny—same wing shapes, same pose. Wyeth’s work was a goldmine of dramatic storytelling, and Bell clearly saw the potential to repurpose it for the cover.
So, chalk it up as another entry on the ever-growing list of Greg Bell’s “inspirations.” Is it plagiarism or just a clever nod to the giants who came before? I’ll let you decide. For me, it’s a reminder that art—especially in those rough-and-tumble early gaming days—was less about originality and more about getting the job done. And honestly? There’s a certain charm in that hustle.
