Take a Dive (or Why Adhering to the Rules is Bad, and Arbitration is Superior)

This is supposed to be a blog about OSR, and occasionally it even resembles one. But, here we are, talking about 3rd edition again.

I'll start off by pointing out that I'm using this story to contrast and outline why a particular and integral part of OSR is both necessary and good.

To set the scene, the seven of us were downstairs, in my then-girlfriend Rachel's house (well, this was highschool, so it was her parent's house). We were playing either the second or third session of the Wheel of Time RPG game I had begun running on Tuesday afternoons. The crew was:

• Nigel, my younger brother. His character was a Whitecloak (sort of a templar type character from a nation called Amadicia. Their proper name is the Children of the Light, and they take a very liberal view of their authority and jurisdiction to punish evil-doers). His character was an Armsman, the WoTRPG equivalent of the Fighter.
• Harriet was playing a Noble, and she was in this alternate reality, the heir apparent to the Kingdom of Andor, and a titled Princess. Roughly similar to the Aristocrat, but stronger.
• Ana, who had only come to the States the previous year from New Zealand. She's a better friend than I deserve. Ana was playing a Wanderer, and in her backstory, her character was created by the Forsaken, a sort of human looking Shadowspawn (monsters created by evil wizards essentially). Pretty much the Rogue class, but not as strong.
• Dermot was playing an Aiel (red haired crazy people from a desert - yes, I realize "red hair" and "crazy people" is redundant). He was an Algai'd'siswai, an unarmored spear fighter basically. Roughly analogous to the Monk. 
• Daniel was playing a male Channeler, which is basically a Wizard that will eventually go crazy. He'd made a deal with the Dark One to avoid the Taint on the male source of power called Saidin.
• And fnally Rachel was playing a female Channeler, specifically part of the only "official" order of wizards remaining in the world, and descended from the pre-apocalyptic order, called Aes Sedai.

Events in the game had been set up so that the second apocalypse was happening early, and the party was spread out (this was a mistake in retrospect, but I had maybe been playing for three years at the longest at this time). Despite my overlong description of the players and their characters, this story really only involves two of them: Nigel and Harriet.

Nigel's character had been in Amadicia to start with, and it had turned out that he had the ability to channel (I was setting him up to either be the Dragon Reborn, or a False Dragon - a Christ/antichrist type figure in the lore). Now, he had to flee, and his fellow Children of Light now hated him. Had I the chance to do this over again, I'd have sprung this on Nigel much, much later, after giving him a chance to rise in the ranks of the Children, and to make connections with his fellow warriors. Then, it would be a test of their loyalty to his character or to their codes when this event happened.

So, his character was on the run for his life toward Andor...

And in Andor, Harriet was dealing with the fact that Andor was being invaded by evil creatures from a plane of mirrors (I was mixing D&D and the Wheel of Time like some kind of insane alchemist) in league with the Dark One, or perhaps even extensions of him, or remnants of the Age of Legends. I'm not 100% sure what it was I was doing with this. Either way, they were replacing important people in Andor with their kind, and when they chose to replace the Princess, Harriet had to find a way out of Andor, fast.

Assuming I remember this correctly (bear with me, this was thirteen years ago), Harriet was able to order some of her guards to get her out of the palace, and they successfully reached the carriage and then made their way out of the city. However, several days later on the road, they were attacked by some of the Mirrorspawn, and it just so happened that an exhausted and saddlesore Child of Light was coming down the road from the opposite direction.

Doing battle, both Nigel and Harriet gave a good accounting of themselves, and either slew or drove off the Mirrorspawn, and the two of them continued to travel together. This time picking a road that led neither to Amadicia or Andor. I'm fairly certain my grasp of WoT's geography was rather poor at the time, but if I were running it now, they've have been headed to either Lugard or Murandy. I have no idea where I sent them.

Anyway, in the session in question, they'd been traveling together for some time, and they had chosen to stop at an inn and spend the night in what they hoped was safety. During the fight with the Mirrorspawn, Nigel and Harriet had taken some of their swords (incredibly sharp things polished to a mirror shine) presumably to sell, but perhaps to use.

That night, a Myrddraal (a deadly, eyeless man thing that can only die by severing its head from its neck, and carries a sword with an infectious evil that can kill with a scratch) shadow walked into the inn searching for Nigel. Its mission was to kill Harriet's character, and leave Nigel's Child of Light cut off and alone, the better to twist him to the Dark One's purpose. It was frustrated in its mission because Nigel happened to walk out of his room at the very moment it was trying to open Harriet's door.

Caught in a lit hallway with no shadows large enough to flee, the Myrddraal did the only thing it could think of, which was to draw its sword and try to intimidate Nigel into making an alliance with it. He, being a Child of the Light, and opposed to Shadowspawn in all their forms, had none of it and charged. His intention was to slam into it, and carry it out of the window at the end of the hall.

Which would be fine if 3rd edition had proper rules for this (or so I thought, at the time). But it really doesn't, since Bull Rush attacks can only push an opponent back 5 feet, and it doesn't have any real rules for things like the likelihood of falling out of windows, or crashing through them, or any sort of sensible procedures for how characters, momentum, and fragile materials interact.

So, I made a judgement call, the primary job of GMs everywhere.

I chose to ignore the rules as written, and decided that since Nigel's character was strong enough, he could carry the Myrddraal down the remaining length of the hall and through the window if he succeeded on his Bull Rush attempt. And to succeed, the Myrddraal had to fail in its attack of opportunity against him, which it wasn't likely to do. However, it rolled low, and I judged that Nigel's rush had taken it by surprise. In the crash through the window, however, I called on both of them to make Dexterity checks to keep hold of their weapons. Nigel and the Myrddraal managed to fail this check, and so they tumbled from a second story window, and landed at the top of a steep hill leading down to a stream.

And then, in their attempts to hit one another, they managed to roll right down the hill, hitting rocks, trees, and all manner of things on their way to the bottom, where they came to a stop in the cold water of the stream, each with a sackful of subdual damage (enough to knock them unconscious). I made a roll, and decided whether that were face up or face down. The Myrddraal was face up. Nigel's character was face down. He was going to drown unless someone helped him.

Cue Harriet, who, upon hearing the crash of the window outside, went to investigate. There at the end of the hall was the shattered window and two swords. One old, battered, but functional and sharp, and another that looked like it had been forged from shadows in the pits of Hell. Not wanting to touch the black one (smart on her part) Harriet used a blanket to wrap both swords, and then she went outside. She began searching in the dark with her lantern in one hand, and the swords in the other. However, the clock was ticking for Nigel.

I probably shouldn't have, but I allowed him to make the Constitution checks to hold his breath (technically, he shouldn't be able to do that because his character was unconscious, and already had more subdual damage than his current HP). Harriet searched the hillside as quickly as she could, and the entire table collectively held their breath as Nigel kept barely managing to make his Constitution checks. But then, he failed one. And now only had two rounds left, or he would drown and die.

Everyone was on pins and needles while this whole situation hung by a thread.

Harriet came to his rescue, making a really damn good roll on her Search check, and she found both of them in the stream. She set the lantern down and turned Nigel over, and then slapped him awake (again, I had to make a call - Nigel shouldn't have been able to wake up for at least a couple of hours, but I felt it was dramatically appropriate, and really, hang the goddamn rules when they interfere with stuff like this). So, battered, half-drowned, Nigel staggered to his feet, and Harriet pushed the swords in his face.

He drew one at random, and with two strokes (coup de grace attacks) chopped through the Myrddraal's neck, and then collapsed on the bank of the stream, exhausted and unconscious once again.

Unfortunately for Nigel, the sword he'd used to hack the Myrddraal's head off was the Myrddraal's own sword, and just touching the things can infect you with their evil. So, he was unconscious, and had a death grip on a killer sword. His recovery wouldn't be easy.

But that's a tale for another time.

How OSR Relates

It is situations like this, where the rules come into conflict with the player's imaginative solutions, where the game world is defined for the worse by the rules, that GMs are necessary. Personally, I think I was too lenient in this circumstance, but back then I was under the impression that dying wasn't any fun, and that I shouldn't kill characters off for making mistakes. Nigel's Child of the Light probably should have drowned in that stream.

However, I know I didn't make a mistake when I made those judgement calls, because Bull Rush, a special attack in 3rd edition and the WoTRPG is far less effective than simply attacking the opponent. To make it worthwhile to do, and to encourage the sort of imaginative roleplaying I wanted from my players, I had to ignore the rules. If all Nigel had been able to do was push the Myrddraal five feet, it would have likely been forced to kill him in the following round. Myrddraal are far too powerful for a beginning character, but they're also one of the Dark One's most ubiquitous and intelligent servants (in many ways, D&D is not the system for settings like this).

Additionally, there were no real rules for having subdual damage be done for striking objects while under the effects of momentum. By RAW, they should have taken the damage for falling ten feet, and then come to an immediate stop no matter the angle of the slope or the fact that they were still moving, grappling, and certainly not on their feet. Proponents of RAW may be completely fine with the nonsensical reality created by the rules when interpreted this way, but I am not. And they can scream DM fiat all they want, because it's necessary for RPGs to function, because no rule set can account for every situation or corner case that may come up.

Frankly, I don't even think there should be a Bull Rush attack. A player should simply be able to declare they're going to try to do a particular action, and then leave it to DM arbitration. Some OSR games have Feat or Maneuver dice for such situations, something I'm somewhat in favor of. But having a feat like Improved Bull Rush, whose sole benefit is that Bull Rush no longer provokes an attack of opportunity (and requires Power Attack to boot!) is the sort of nasty little sectioning off of the rules with dubious benefits that drove me away from 3rd edition and into the waiting arms of the OSR.

I know in my bones that cleaving to the rules and letting things be resolved RAW in that situation would have made that particular session inferior in quality. It would have been less fun, and it would have been a boring by-the-numbers death of two PCs for no real reason. Had it been an OSR game, things would have been different. Nigel probably would have died (from drowning, likely), but he wouldn't have been hampered by the overly restrictive Bull Rush rules that I had elected to ignore.

Ultimately, 3rd edition (and games like it) are at odds with the DM, creating concrete abilities that can be number crunched and either discarded for being inferior (no one uses Bull Rush in most 3rd edition games once they realize how inferior it is to simply attacking) or it gets optimized so that it is as close to an "I win" button as melee can possibly get in such games. Frankly, I'd much rather play something that requires less prep, and something where I can reward my players for being clever, rather than just good at looking up builds online.

Plus, arbitration allows us all to be surprised by what happens. Very few games have any kind of concrete rules for what a kick does. But kicking someone off of a high ledge is an extremely satisfying way to win an encounter - just play Dark Messiah of Might & Magic if you don't believe me. By RAW in most games, kicking someone would do unarmed damage, and no more. With arbitration, it can now do whatever common sense says it should, and can be moderated by the circumstances.

Or, we can heal by drowning.

Getting Filthy Dirty

Despite the fact that my mind instantly dives into the gutter, I'm not actually talking about anything suggestive or lewd - no, what I'm about to discuss is effectively another resource subsystem to track in OSR games. But, since I didn't think up the idea entirely on my own, I don't want to claim that the idea for tracking cleanliness was my sole idea. The methods for tracking it are, but the inspiration lay in the /osrg/ thread some months ago.

Filth

Adventurers are not in the cleanest of professions. These are people, who, against all reason or sense, delve into crumbling ruins filled with monsters, disease, molds, and traps on the slim hope that they might retrieve an ancient treasure that will keep them and theirs in the good life for an unknown span of future time. And when that money runs out, they'll do it all over again, risking injury, sickness, and death.

There are extensive rules for tracking heat and cold in the Wilderness Survival Guide for 1e AD&D, and while not everyone's cup of tea, it certainly will aid any DM looking to replicate the man vs. nature style storytelling of greats like Jack London. The 1e AD&D Dungeon Master's Guide also contains various bits of useful rules - of particular interest for our discussion is the disease rules.

The Rules

Player characters gain Filth Points any time they engage in an action that can be considered excessively dirty. A few suggested scenarios are outlined below:

1. Combat with close-range melee weapons (swords, axes, maces, daggers, hammers, etc.).
2. Searching a dead body, particularly ones that can no longer be considered "fresh", or bodies that have been savagely wounded.
3. Handle moldy, dirty, or rotting material (such as sacks in a dungeon).
4. Trudge through a swamp, bog, sewer, etc.
5. Mutilate a dead body.
6. Consume the flesh of a dead body (cannibalism).
7. Engage in sexual intercourse with a dead body (necrophilia).

Filth Points accumulate. Each act described above would warrant at least a single Filth Point, to a soft maximum of 5. Each time a PC engages in an act that would grant a Filth Point, they gain between 1 and 3 Filth Points depending on the environs or the severity of the act. Each Filth Point is a penalty to NPC reaction rolls due to the player character's excessively dirty appearance and vile smell.

Each Filth Point adjusts the base chance of disease by 1% (and even a single Filth Point should prompt the weekly check for disease). Filth Points beyond 5 should be recorded, but they do not further penalize reaction rolls, though they continue to modify the base disease chance. A particularly Filthy person (3+ Filth Points) should also prompt disease checks from their party members, as they are likely to render their clothing, bedding, and anything they touch unsanitary.

Removing Filth requires access to satisfactory bathing conditions (clean water, soap, and an object to scrub with). Each point of Filth requires 10 minutes (1 turn) to remove, and a standard sized bath tub of water can only handle two points of Filth before becoming so dirty that the water is rendered useless for further bathing and must be changed. Excess Filth beyond the "soft" maximum of 5 is not counted for this purpose. Moreover, removing even a single point of Filth should negate all excess Filth.

The main intent of the Filth rules is to provide a small subsystem that can be easily kept track of, and fits in with the existing AD&D 1e DMG disease rules. If too complicated, consider making 5 a hard maximum, and having each point of Filth modify the base disease chance by 2% instead of 1%.

Even More Thoughts on 3rd Edition, Skills, and OSR

I swore I had more to say, so here it goes. More bellyaching about 3rd edition, but this time my focus is on skills.

Skills are Good

By the time I'm done, you'll likely have this idea that I'm the kind of DM who tells people they're having badwrongfun and should stop. But, that's only partially true. I think skills are necessary in certain types of games, and I also think that certain types of games only need them in extremely narrow cases, or, at worst, in a very broad hand-wavy sense.

Classless systems, as an example, need skill lists in order to differentiate characters from one another. They form the core of "what the character does", their role or identity within the rule structure that gives the game world its form.

B/X derivative games (my favorite flavor of OSR) don't particularly need skills, since they (usually) assume a general level of competence in player characters. They know how to use ropes and climbing gear. They know how to ride horses and stow gear on pack animals. They know how to hunt, treat wounds, and find true north. And for the record, I do in fact take issue with B/X derivative games that use secondary skills and non-weapon proficiencies to track player character knowledge. But I'll get to that.

In most cases, if a player wants their character to know how to cook decent meals from camp food and play a musical instrument, it's completely allowable for them to have this bit of character. There aren't rules for it because B/X derivative games don't need complex crafting rules for food prep or detailed rules for improvising music from woodwind instruments. They do need exploration rules, and rules for sighting distances and for looting, tinkering with stuff, and fighting.

With B/X derivative games, the less you have to keep track of, the better.

I personally prefer to allow freeform skills you can fit into a 3-5 sentence paragraph. Any more than that is probably pushing it, and any less is just a list or just disconnected words. And yes, I know I'm a dirty heretic for even breathing the word freeform. How dare I use that narrativist garbage. The nerve!

Ideally, the skills you need rules for are the ones the game is actually going to be checking a lot, skills that should produce interesting and unexpected developments without bogging the game down with a ton of rolls.

Skills are Bad

There are however, four skills I never ever want to see in any game, B/X derivative or otherwise. And those are:

1. Craft,
2. Diplomacy,
3. Knowledge, and
4. Profession

 Why exactly do I have a hate boner for these four skills? Because they make the game less interesting, and generally, they serve to allow another "build" option for a character rather than straight magic or straight might. Which should be a good thing, but typically isn't on a second examination.

Craft

There is zero reason to have the skill in any RPG, let alone one in the vein of B/X derivatives. In 3rd edition, it serves only to reinforce the nonsense world that the rules create, where crafting time is dependent on gold piece value (meaning it takes longer to make a gold candelabra than it does to make a set of leather armor - despite the fact that gold can be melted rather easily and poured into a mold). More to the point, in B/X derivative games, it's assumed that adventurer types know basically how to maintain their gear, and if they have the equipment, should be able to repair minor bends, knicks, cuts, dents, and so on without needing to have apprenticed to some legendary smith.

In B/X derivative games, it's fine if a fighter or other character writes their freeform backstory to include being a swordsmith, and to allow them to make swords at a reduced cost (whatever is reasonable, really) if they want to. It takes a day or two start to finish to make an Ulfbehrt sword from crucible steel, assuming you have someone competent helping you and you work together. I'm sure a little searching on this newfangled interwebs thingy will allow one to find the time needed to make all sorts of things from antiquity to the early modern period. It really doesn't matter - and adventurers who would rather make swords than go dungeon delving probably should be retired from the game.

Legendary smiths being found and hired by the PCs and such should be rewards for adventuring or for managing their domains wisely (if you like that sort of thing). The PCs should not be the legendary smith, just as they should not be the wise sage. They're adventurers, not homebodies.

Diplomacy

Ah Diplomacy, and by some extension Bluff in 3rd edition. What a sack of shit. Especially with the epic rules tacked on, which many 3rd edition rules lawyers will say is "core" - a claim I find both misinformed and genuinely disgusting, particularly if they're one of those players who also supports throwing out the PHB in favor of later supplements which supposedly "fix" the balance issues. First off, the epic rules are optional, and not every DM is required to use them. The same goes for prestige classes, but that's a post for another day. It's like saying a DM has to allow you to use an optional variant rule just because its in the three "core" rulebooks (and Core, by the way, are the DMG, PHB, and MM - and they're the only ones that say Core Rulebook I-III on them).

My disgust toward those who are in favor of tossing out the PHB classes but insist that epic skills are "core" is because it allows you to (if you stack enough bonuses) create permanent zealots who will do anything you tell them to do, up to and including suicidal actions. It's the worst sort of munchkiny behavior with a side dose of making social encounters effectively moot because Rules As Written (a particular form of moral bankruptcy), anyone who is Helpful or Fanatic is conveniently interpreted by RAW aficionados to mean that NPCs behave in whatever way is most beneficial to the players, and thus they can no longer act in self-interest or even lift a finger to oppose the PCs without breaking the rules. This can include hostile NPCs who hate the PCs for various reasons if one takes a literal reading of the rules, since after all, you can make a Diplomacy check in combat as a full round action if you take a -10 penalty. A complete non-issue for the properly prepared munchkin.

Never mind that this interpretation is wrong and contravenes common sense. People don't suddenly act out of character because someone spent five to ten minutes talking to them. At least, not without magic, anyway.

Diplomacy and Bluff (and also Sense Motive) effectively reduce social encounters to rolling dice to determine if NPCs are friendly, or deceived, or are telling the truth, rather than talking to them, trying to convince them with arguments and evidence, or trapping them in lies with pointed questions. And here, the "no freeform skills!" people are going to spit and shout that if you don't allow people to roll, then you're penalizing the less eloquent speakers and unfairly favoring the roleplayers, the dirty well-spoken bastards - and if you're going to do that, you should allow the strong or quick or tough players get bonuses to in-character strength checks, dodging, or shrugging off fatigue.

And the counter-argument to this slippery slope, as Carlos often says, is that if that's the case, then we should start rolling to see how well you walk, whether or not you turn the door handle or fail to grasp it, or whether or not you start the car. Everything should be reduced down to a roll because it's not your skill, it's your character's skill; after all, you shouldn't be able to dive for cover just because you declare it, nope! Better roll that Agility to see whether or not you flub it and jump in front of the enemy's guns!

But I'm not proposing bonuses, or XP gained for roleplaying. At some level, RPGs involve player skill, and a person doesn't have to be eloquent to outline a basic argument, and say:

"Volagyrr is a very persuasive man, and he argues that the Nords should support the Imperials instead of the Stormcloaks because it's clear that the rebellion is weakening the Empire and splitting its attention, and worse, the Thalmor didn't and couldn't enforce their treaty so long as no one openly worshiped Talos - something Ulfric disrupted when he made it a point to re-establish open Talos worship in Markarth after he deposed the Reachmen."

The player doesn't need to make a flowery speech. A reasonable DM would take into account Volagyrr's arguments, and decide whether or not it persuaded the fence sitters of Volagyrr's position. There's no need to even have this down to dice, because a good roll isn't going to convince hardline Stormcloaks, just like Volagyrr's points above won't convince Skyrim players who think Skyrim is for the Nords that the Empire is worth fighting for. A bad roll might mean not convincing the fence sitters, but it certainly won't make hardline pro-Imperials to suddenly shirk their duty and abandon the Legions for Ulfric's cause.

Individuals might change their mind based on events or circumstances that cause them to reevaluate their choices, but it's unlikely Volagyrr's stirring speech will do so.

But under the 3.5 rules, everyone who hears Volagyrr has a chance to become fanatically pro-Imperial with a single well-modified d20 roll. Heck, Volagyrr might take a 20 and make it a really long and especially flowery speech just to ensure he can overcome that high DC for those potentially hostile Stormcloaks in the crowd.

Obviously, I take issue with this.

"But Fabian," say the pro-RAW, pro-dice rolling players "what about stupid players trying to play intelligent characters? Shouldn't they be allowed to roll intelligence to know that they're about to do a stupid thing?"

Nay, I say. Let stupid players suffer the consequences of their actions, and may the dice fall where they will.

Knowledge

This may actually be the worst offender of the lot, because knowledge skills are absolutely ridiculous. You should not be rolling to see if you know something. You either do or you don't, and if you do, it might be forgotten or misremembered, but  it's still rattling around in there somewhere. They're also stupid, in 3.5 at least. Did you know that it's possible for a person (according to a RAW reading of the rules) who has lived all his life in a land with elephants to not be able to identify them because their hit dice are so high that it would be impossible for him to make the Knowledge (nature) check DC? I cannot recall clearly if taking 20 on a Knowledge check is possible, but I'm leaning toward no, plus, even if taking 20 is permissible, taking 20 is not the same as getting a critical success, which can only happen on attack rolls and saving throws anyway, not skill checks.

Even so, a character with no ranks in Knowledge (nature) who has seen real live elephants up close cannot identify them or recall any information about them because (even if they can take 20 on the check), they're limited to whatever common info you'd get from a DC 10 only. Which is probably "they're big and grey and covered in wrinkles".

Moreover, in B/X derivatives, knowledge really should fall under classes and that paragraph of freeform backstory. A fighter who is a hedge knight probably should know how to ride a horse and take care of it. He is also likely a pretty good judge of horseflesh, and has at least a working knowledge of practical heraldry, meaning he's memorized famous knights and their devices. Furthermore, he probably has a pretty good grasp of how to take care of his weapons and armor, since his profession (and his very life) depend on them.

Having Knowledge skills (as well as Crafting skills, actually) also hurts the structure of the game, because players will load up on them so they can bypass the tedium (and resource/time consumption) necessary to roleplay finding sages, scholars, and smiths to get those questions answered and legendary weapons reforged.

Profession

I take it back. This one is the worst of the lot.

This skill should not exist in any game. In a classless game, a character's profession should be defined by the collection of skills he has, like Astrogation, Pilot (starfighter), Weapon Training (starfighter), and whatnot. They should not have Profession (space ace), and they certainly shouldn't be allowed to roll their Profession (space ace) to make double dollars for off-screen bounties. That's not only boring, but defeats the entire purpose of playing a Space Ace in the first place. Why have dashing adventures as a swashbuckling Space Ace when you can roll a die and win without ever having to bother doing anything?

"But what about NPCs?" Well, what about them? They should only have the bare minimum of statistics and shouldn't be built using PC rules unless it's a classless system, and they don't need to have Profession (lovely filth farmer). You can just assume that they're competent at farming lovely filth, and can identify lovely filth with only a modicum of effort. What is the point of statting out every single NPC in a given settlement and deciding the very important question of whether or not the village headman should have 4 or 5 ranks in Profession (mayor)?

This skill cannot be justified. It doesn't benefit any adventurer who is reckoned to have a modicum of skill in their area of expertise, it doesn't benefit the DM when crafting NPC statistics, and it certainly doesn't benefit those players who decide to take it in lieu of more useful combat or social oriented skills, so who is it for? Is it for the roleplayers who want a mechanical representation of their backstory? Is it for the players who find they have too many skill points and can consider wasting them on a skill that skill point starved classes would murder close acquaintances just for the opportunity to have enough skill points to waste like that?

No, Profession exists in 3.5 as a skill tax for prestige classes. That's its true purpose. The money making thing is just a consolation prize for being required to waste precious skill points on a nearly useless skill. By all the gods odoriferous and flatulent, Profession should get flushed.

Previous Editions

Secondary Skills and Non-weapon Proficiencies are actually worse than 3rd edition's craptacular stacking modifier skill system, since they heavily favor higher ability scores, and thus penalizing anyone who rolled poorly or (gasp) assigned their points to avoid the possibility that they'd be terrible at everything. I suppose you could say "well, don't take the skills associated with your low ability score", but that's build-talk, and defeats the entire purpose of having skills for roleplaying reasons, because if you min-maxed in favor of physical prowess at the expense of sagacity, and being a competent sword smith requires Intelligence, well... you've just made an incompetent sword smith when you could have made a competent long distance runner or survivalist instead.

Certainly, I have strong opinions on skill systems, but I can't force you to think the way I do, and even if I had the power, I'd never use it because the very idea of doing such a thing fills me with repugnance at the thought.

Get to the Fucking Point

Skills are best when they serve a meaningful aspect of the game. A sci-fi game where characters might be expected to navigate between stars and unsuccessful navigation could mean danger or death adds an element of uncertainty, and creates opportunities ranging between being stranded on a primitive world or making a daring escape from an enemy fleet. A skill that adds nothing is bloat, a wasted opportunity to keep the game lean and fast, a resource sink for the foolish or the boring. PCs need no Profession - their class or their collected skills should suggest their Profession, and NPCs don't need anything more than "check out clerk at the Duper Mart". The last thing they need is 3 ranks in Profession (sales associate), and the DM certainly doesn't need the headache of keeping track of dumb shit like this.

It's rather late (or early, I suppose), and I feel like I'm repeating myself, so I think I'll fuck off to bed. But ask yourself a couple of questions next time you're considering whether or not to include a skill:

• Does it provide a meaningful impact on the way the game will be played?
• Does it create an opportunity for organic (and dramatic) changes in the circumstances of the gameworld?
• Is it worth the book keeping that will be necessary to keep track of it?
• Does the skill require characters to choose between being good at the skill, or being good at their chosen class/archetype/role in the party?
• Does it conflict with common sense? 

Rambling Thoughts on 3rd Edition Dungeons & Dragons

This is sort of the second portion to my earlier post, but also an examination that an anon in the OSR general asked me to write, so here it is. After all those years playing 3.5, here's what I have to say about the system itself.

First of all, a caveat: This is in no way an “objective” review of 3.5, since we all bring our biases and heaps of experience both good and bad regarding a particular rule set. So, by its very nature, this examination is subjective, but may contain useful insights, or so one hopes.

So 3.5. The d20 mechanic is not in itself flawed. I’m not part of the hordes out there who have tossed the baby out with the bathwater in regard to roleplaying games or Dungeons & Dragons in particular. However, there are aspects of 3.5 that fail to use the d20 mechanic wisely, and creates a mess that is difficult to untangle.

Of great importance to the discussion is how 3.5 is intended to be played vs. how it is played in practice. 3.5 is intended to be played with three rules assumptions in mind:

1.) The DM is building the world based on the community demographics rules (beginning on pg. 135 of the 3.5 DMG and extending to pg. 168), and is not at all attempting to create a believable or living economy for the game world – instead they are creating one that serves the needs of the Players as Adventurers and Heroes. This includes, but is not limited to, the community wealth and GP limits, the generation of leveled NPC characters (those characters with levels in such classes as commoner, aristocrat, warrior, etc.), and the power structures that operate within said communities.

Allow me to elaborate for a moment on the GP Limit. This was always vaguely worded in the 3.0 and 3.5 DMGs, but in the Pathfinder Gamemastery Guide it finally reveals what should have been stated in plain English: On pg. 205 is Table 7-36, detailing the community statistics, and is similar to the one presented in the DMG on pg. 137. There are some differences, namely that Pathfinder establishes a lower overall limit on the availability of expensive items, and spells out that the Base Value is intended for magic items.

In the 3.5 DMG however, the GP Limit serves the same function, but has a clearly higher maximum for items (up to 100,000 gp in a metropolis as opposed to 16,000 gp for one in PF). In 3.5, to determine the maximum amount of “ready cash” a settlement has, one multiplies the GP Limit by 1/10th of the community’s population.

This works out to 125,005,000 gp for the smallest metropolis – an absurd number that would allow PCs to sell pretty much anything in the game world in a metropolis without impacting the metropolis negatively. This number also serves to limit the “maximum number of available items”, meaning that in a default metropolis, it is possible to buy 25,001,000 10' poles, or 2,500,100 greatswords (effectively 100 greatswords per citizen).

It’s what I like to call “sacrificing commonsense on the altar of game balance”. Whose "balance" though, is anyone's guess. Thankfully PF is more reasonable, and provides the “Purchase Limit”, which goes as high as 100,000 gp. It still translates to 2,000 greatswords, which is unlikely, but it is a small enough number that I'm willing to swallow my doubts.

2.) The DM is using the CR system to adjudicate XP and to generate treasure as appropriate for the PCs and their level. This is detailed on pg. 40, and also there is a discussion of it on pg. 48 of the DMG. There are variants for ad hoc experience, and also for freeform experience, but this is not the default assumption, since the rest of the game assumes that you will be using the CR system as written. There is quite a bit of advice regarding tailored encounters (encounters that either are weak to equipment the PCs have or are somewhat resistant to it to provide challenge) and status quo encounters (where monsters are simply placed in the game world, and it’s up to the PCs to make the tactically sound decision to engage them or not).

What this boils down to is that old meme about the 13 encounter treadmill (which is explained on pg. 41 of the DMG itself! - pic related below).

While clearly meant to be a guideline, and a starting point, the rest of 3.5 is geared toward this 13 encounter assumption, which is why prospective DMs are warned throughout the section that if they increase XP rewards, they must also increase treasure rewards lest the PCs become undergeared for their level. This is an important cornerstone to the way in which 3.5 is meant to be played. PCs are expected to have a certain amount of wealth commensurate with their levels, and if they do not, they will find themselves in difficulty against enemies who have defenses they cannot defeat, and attacks they cannot defend against.

 The Dungeon Master is completely and utterly responsible for this balancing act, and if they screw it up, the game suffers. And certain classes suffer more for the mistake.

3.) Wealth by Level. It’s often brought up on various forums and even /tg/ itself as one of the major failings of 3.5 and the reason for that is quite simple: It’s an easy shorthand for why the game’s underlying systems are flawed. Yes, the WBL table on pg. 135 is intended for creating PCs who are higher level than 1st, but it states, and I quote “Table 5-1 Character Wealth by Level is based on the average treasures found in average encounters compared with the experience points earned in those encounters.”

Why exactly have I called out the latter part of the sentence? Because this is what DMs get wrong the majority of the time, because they either forget about it, or ignore it, and thus are not playing as intended. They don’t follow the CR system as presented, they either give too much treasure or too little treasure compared to the XP they’re handing out, and suddenly all hell breaks loose.

Take for example a player invited to a game in progress, who is instructed to make a character of a similar level with the existing party. If less treasure, but normal XP has been handed out over the course of the game, the new player will have more treasure for their XP than the rest of the party, and therefore be able to afford better goodies in the form of hand-picked magic items. On the other hand, a player invited to a game where more treasure, but normal XP have been handed out will actually begin play at a disadvantage if the WBL table is followed. Already, things begin to break down, even assuming all classes are equal in power level - which is demonstrably false.

So, with these assumptions in mind, we should examine the classes.

Let’s compare some classes and see where they stand by putting a (mostly) arbitrary point tally to their abilities.

HD

• d12 = 5 points
• d10 = 4 points
• d8 = 3 points
• d6 = 2 points
• d4 = 1 points

Attack Bonus

• Good = 3 points  
• Average = 2 points
• Poor = 1 points

Saving Throws

• Good = 2 points
• Poor = 1 points

Skills

• Good (8x) = 4 points
• Decent (6x) = 3 points
• Average (4x) = 2 points
• Poor (2x) = 1 points

Feats/Class Features

• 2 points apiece

Spells

• 2 points per slot*

Using this rather rough and not at all scientifically accurate gauge of class power, I have written out several classes in the 3.5 PHB and DMG for you to compare. All classes are being judged on their sum total of abilities at level 20.

PC Classes

Fighter

• d10 HD (4)
• Good BAB (3)
• 2x Poor Saves (2)
• 1x Good Save (2)
• Poor Skills (1)
• 11 feats+1 class feature (ability to take Weapon Specialization)+proficiencies (counting as feats, so Simple, Martial, Light, Medium, Heavy Armor, and Shields and Tower Shields) total = 19 (38) 

Final Point Tally = 50 points

Monk

• d8 HD = (3)
• Average BAB (2)
• 3x Good Saves (6)
• Average Skills (2)
• 4x Feats+roughly 19 class features (46)

Final Point Tally = 59 points

Ranger

• d8 HD (3)
• Good BAB (3)
• 1x Poor Saves (1)
• 2x Good Save (4)
• Decent Skills (6)
• ~17x class features/feats (34)
• 12x spell slots (24)

Final Point Tally = 75 points

Wizard

• d4 HD (1)
• Poor BAB (1)
• 2x Poor Saves (2)
• 1x Good Save (2)
• Poor Skills (1)
• 5x feats+1x class feature (12)
• 40x spell slots (80)

Final Point Tally = 99 points

NPC Classes

Adept

• d6 HD (2)
• Poor BAB (1)
• 2x Poor Saves (2)
• 1x Good Save (2)
• Poor Skills (1)
• One class feature, also has proficiency in simple weapons (counted as a feat) (4)
• 17x spell slots (34)

Final Point Tally = 46 points

Aristocrat

• d8 HD (3)
• Average BAB (2)
• 2x Poor Saves (2)
• 1x Good Save (2)
• Average Skills (2)
• Zero class features, but has proficiency in simple and martial weapons and all armor and shields (counted as feats) (14)

Final Point Tally = 25 points

Commoner

• d4 HD (1)
• Poor BAB (1)
• 3x Poor Saves (3)
• Poor Skills (1)
• Zero class features

Final Point Tally = 6 points

Expert

• d6 HD (2)
• Average BAB (2)
• 2x Poor Saves (2)
• 1x Good Save (2)
• Decent Skills (3)
• Zero class features, but has proficiency in simple weapons and light armor (counted as feats) (4)

Final Point Tally = 15 points

  

*I originally had calculated spells as 1 point per spell slot, so (spell slots)*(spell level), but I felt that it was too messy and that comparing spell slots to feats and treating spells as powerful single use "feats" was much more useful.

Obviously, this methodology is flawed. Not all feats, and not all spells are created equal. Not all spell or skill lists are equal. However, this was mostly to demonstrate that while the fighter has many permanent abilities, and freedom to choose those abilities, by 20th level he has fewer tricks than a wizard of equal level, even though the wizard may “lose” abilities as the adventure goes on, those abilities are so powerful that they can often shut down an entire encounter with a single spell, which is arguably more powerful, and more flexible than the fighter’s permanent abilities that are never exhausted.

And this is before factoring in magic items.

The CR System, Monsters, and Fighters

Something that has troubled me for a long time with 3.5 was the book Savage Species. And this is not because it allows monstrous PCs or unbalances the game. No, it actually troubles me because it revealed a fourth assumption that is bound up in the CR system. On pg. 13 of Savage Species, there is a small discussion about how to adjudicate level adjustment for monsters, and the basis for comparison is the fighter. I grant that I may be taking it out of context, but the main thrust of that paragraph is that if an ogre with a level of fighter is superior to playing an 8th level fighter, than the ogre needs to be given a bigger level adjustment to bring it into parity with the fighter class.

Moreover, if you examine the monsters in the Monster Manual, you’ll notice that ACs tend to keep up with the Fighter’s base attack bonus. I’ll use giants as an example:

Hill giants have a CR of 7 and an AC of 20. Frost giants have a CR of 9 and an AC of 21. Fire giants have a CR of 10 and an AC of 23.

A 7th level fighter (using whichever point-buy method you like, shooting for 18 Str, half-orc race, and all ability increases into Str) would have an attack bonus of 7+5+2 (class+Str+magic weapon) = +14. Which is a pretty reasonable chance of hitting an AC of 20. However, a single hill giant might easily murder the lone fighter, seeing has how it has +16 to attack and a greatclub that does 2d8+10 damage, and a pile of hit points besides (102). Obviously, the hill giant is not meant to challenge a fighter one on one. Its challenge rating is supposed to be a “challenging” encounter for a party of four 7th level characters.

I suspect (but cannot prove) that the Monster Manual was purposely balanced against the fighter class. If this is true, then they balanced the monsters with the CR system against one of the (arguably) weakest classes in the game, and as a result, when you allow a strong class like the wizard to run rampant with more XP and more treasure than is normal, they utterly dominate the game, and the fighter is relegated to playing a game of catch-up by buying expensive magic items in an attempt to replicate some of the abilities wizards enjoy almost as a matter of course through class features.

Obviously, the Tier System exists, and is a community attempt at patching 3.5’s system to be more fair. Don’t allow classes below or above certain Tiers, say the supporters. However, I maintain that it doesn’t change the underlying fact that the game is built on a CR system that is calculated against the assumption of a weak class being in the game, which in turn informs the treasure generation, and in turn affects the availability of magic items in the game. Moreover, the Tier System is not “playing as intended”, it is the premier example of how the game is played in practice.

A Conclusion & Ruminations on OSR

Ultimately, if one has fun with 3.5, there’s nothing wrong with that, and if you approach the game understanding its flaws you can manage to do more or less anything with it. My contention is that you might as well play something that better suits your play style than a system you actively have to cut apart and fix up as best you can. Which is primarily the reason I play OSR games – and I am not for moment suggesting that OSR is the “right” or “proper” way to play RPGs. It simply suits my tastes and my needs as both a player and a DM.

I DMed 3rd edition in its varieties and flavors for about 14 years. I am well aware of what makes it tick, and I’ve come away weary of the minutia of builds, and balance, and ivory tower game design (the now infamous apology by Monte Cook wherein he detailed how he and the other 3rd edition designers created “trap options” that would encourage “system mastery” like Timmy Cards in Magic The Gathering - see pic related below).

It’s not enough that the fighter is weak, and merely stays that way as he levels, but he also is given a plethora of options with little to no guidance, and three of those options are Endurance, Run, and Toughness. None of them make the fighter good at his particular job in the party, and very few experienced players would take those feats without good reason (a DM who springs night encounters regularly, for example, would make Endurance reasonably worth taking). Those reasons though, are incredibly difficult to predict at the outset.

Tellingly, the fighter's role isn't even defined due to the seemingly large, but ultimately narrow choices the fighter is presented with.

One of my gripes with 3.5 is that it gates off portions of the rules, and while it seems like a good idea to have Power Attack, Cleave, and Great Cleave as discrete powers, it ultimately harms the fighter, and he is made irrelevant by spells and spell-like abilities that can either emulate a feat or are simply superior to those feats, never mind that the spell can only be used a handful of times before it becomes unavailable. What matter when a wizard can provide safe harbor with spells, and the party can rest without molestation?

Skills too present problems, and the skill synergy system in 3.5 was supposed to help the low skill point classes, but ultimately benefits the classes with loads of skill points to push around and maximize their synergy bonuses.

I have so much more to say on this, but I’ve already run five pages according to my word processor program. I also have places to be and things to do, but hopefully this provides some insight into why someone might not be fond of 3rd edition Dungeons & Dragons.

I am Seduced by the Dark Side, and Some Opinions on 3rd Edition D&D

Those of us who were teens or adults when Wizards of the Coast brought forth their first foray into the roleplaying game market with their take on the Dungeons & Dragons game occasionally forget that 3rd edition is now an old game. When D&D 3rd edition first reared its misbegotten head in 2000, I was fourteen. Roleplaying games were something I'd only just been introduced to, so these were heady days for me. I'd discovered an outlet for my imagination that I never could have conceived existed (though it's entirely possible that had I not known of their existence, I might have reinvented the wheel given time).

Vampire the Masquerade: Redemption (a PC game) was being advertised in the gaming magazine I had a subscription to at the time. I was really excited, it seemed like everything I could ever want: vampires (still to this day one of my favorite monsters from our collective human folklore), crusaders fighting demons and creatures of the night, maidens in need of rescuing, and a story that would span time - taking advantage of the titular vampire's cursed vitality.

One fateful day, I was on my way to Dirk's house (my best and oldest friend) to hang out and possibly play video games or whatever it was we did then (Diablo, Starcraft, Mario Kart, and Goldeneye most likely). We were in the backseat of the truck and I was telling him about VtM: Redemption, and how excited I was for the game to come out. And then he dropped a bombshell on me that likely altered the course of my life forever: he invited me to come and play with his group. I hadn't even known he played roleplaying games at the time, or that they existed aside from the article mentioning that Redemption was based on some other game. I was vaguely aware that Baldur's Gate (a game my younger brother Nigel owned a copy of) was based on something called Advanced Dungeons & Dragons, but I didn't really know what that meant other than the game seemed complicated. If only I had known.

And that's also how I met my eventual brother in law Dan. Dan ran the group's games of Vampire the Masquerade, Shadowrun, and AD&D. I only played Vampire (and very briefly 3rd edition) with Dan at the helm, and eventually he left us all to join the army, and later participate in the second invasion of Iraq (rumors of his demise fortunately, were just that). That is, however, another story. 3rd edition Dungeons & Dragons had just arrived, and the group was starting to collect the books, and we eventually started playing. I believe my first ever D&D character was a half-orc monk, who was nearly killed by a rat. As I said, Dan joined up, so DMing eventually fell into the hands of others in the group who, despite their exuberance, were not very good at it, having unfortunately a dearth of talent, and having picked up terrible habits from our older mentor, now gone.

That sounds really critical, and perhaps unfair to them, but if you've ever experienced NPCs whose personalities range from egomaniacal to smugly superior with no deviation, huge monsters crammed into impossibly small spaces, and goblins that explode with treasure, then you know that what I, and the rest of the group were experiencing was effectively roleplaying Hell.

I eventually took up the mantle of Storyteller for our World of Darkness games, running Vampire the Dark Ages and Werewolf for several years in a medieval city. I ran things mostly off the cuff with as little dice rolling as possible. I tried to be fair in my arbitration, and in general I think I was both successful and an abysmal failure. Successful in that everyone was having a good time, but failing to challenge them, and in fact, being a little too much on their side, allowing fudges and all sorts of things I consider cheating nowadays.

It was during this time that I met a person who for a time was one of my best friends, and is now something of a bitter enemy. I don't hold that much animosity toward Jeremy, and I've always tried to be fair about his faults, and virtues even when my instinct was to be as vicious, and awful as possible, but I have heavily disliked him for several years now, and no apologies will change that even if they were forthcoming (which they aren't). I suppose I should have realized our friendship was doomed from the start when he didn't want to tell me about his science-fiction "masterpiece", because (as he would later confide) Jeremy's initial impression of me was that I was a plagiarist, despite having zero prior knowledge of me.

He, more often than not, took over the job of DMing for us with D&D. Unfortunately for me, our group had several players who had been playing characters from 2nd edition, and they weren't quite ready to give up on those characters whom they'd played for at least a year before I joined. They also did something rather unthinkable: They converted their characters to 3rd edition by comparing their experience point totals from 2nd edition to the ones in 3rd edition. This is a massive problem, since XP in 2e and XP in 3e are not only calculated differently, but the classes and levels use the same XP chart in 3e while in 2e the classes have differing experience charts. So... they were something on the order of 80th level characters, having extrapolated the XP needed for that by reverse engineering the 3e XP tables, and comparing their many hundreds of thousands of XP gained for being elven fighter/wizards, and taking that as their objective measure of power.

At the time, there was no rulebook capable of reigning this in (though there was a conversion guide they likely didn't read). Eventually, the Forgotten Realms Campaign Setting came out, and since they'd been playing in the Forgotten Realms in 2e, they were able to take advantage of the tentative "epic" rules in the FRCS. But, then, near the end of 3e, the Epic Level Handbook came out, and suddenly, the characters needed to be reworked to fit into this monstrous new power level (which is actually significantly less of a jump in power from non-epic to epic than it is from 1-20th level). And there's me. Relegated to making epic level characters (which could take hours) just so that I could play with the group, never actually properly learning the game because I was never given the opportunity to level up, and learn what everything did at the pace the game reasonably expected you would.

To top it off, one Christmas, Jeremy got me the Epic Level Handbook with a snide "Too bad you always make epic level characters" written in it, as though it were my fault that no one wanted to play 1st level characters, and I was stuck doing something I wasn't particularly good at for an hour or more: Math.

I later got my hands on the Wheel of Time RPG. I was really into the Wheel of Time series way back when, and it seemed like the right and proper thing for me to run D&D with, since I knew the setting, the book was gorgeous, and it was in many ways, 3rd edition lite. Of course, I didn't understand the rules properly, and when Jeremy joined the WoT game I put together on Tuesday afternoons at my then-girlfriend Rachel's house (a girlfriend who fell asleep nearly every time), I got to hear all about how I had read the rules wrong, and etc.

And it was true, I had. But I wasn't entirely to blame. I'd never been properly taught the rules, and as a result, my first forays into DMing 3rd edition were effectively disasters. However, I learned from my mistakes, and I got better, and eventually I was the only person willing to DM regularly. The burden fell more or less to me, with occasional DMing from the others when they felt like it, but three out of four weekends it was my ass warming the DM's chair. During that time, I chose to kill off my "epic" character, whom I'd grown attached to, but whose existence kept pulling me back into DMing epic level adventures which required a lot more prep than I wanted. This upset Jeremy's brother Taylor, a friend I'd known for a lot longer, was a fellow artist I admired, and was someone I very much liked for his wit and kindness. And yet, how dare I kill off my own character, and ruin everyone's fun, despite having repeatedly told him that I wanted to retire the character, since his motive to adventure had been completely resolved in a game Taylor himself had DMed for me.

This was, I think, the beginning of my fallout with the group - or at the very least, the first time I noticed. It may have actually started when I got a girlfriend I really was into, and thought I loved. I remember a day early in Rachel and my relationship when Jeremy and Dirk drove over to my house while Rachel was over, and confronted me about how I wasn't hanging out with them anymore in favor of my girlfriend. What I didn't realize at the time, was that it was because I wasn't DMing for them as regularly. I made them say it in front of her, because I had nothing to hide from her, and I wanted to make sure Rachel and I were on the same page where our relationship was concerned and who it might affect and whatnot. It was, sadly, one of the few actually mature choices I made in that relationship. A relationship that ended badly thanks to yours truly. But that's another, rather less interesting story that doesn't at all paint me in a good light.

Taylor and I drifted apart, partially due to my investing time in Rachel, partially due to my decision not to play my epic level character anymore, and partially due (later) to his use of weed. At the the time, I was very against it, and I was disappointed that he seemed more interested in smoking weed and being popular than he was with being my friend. But perhaps it was my fault for not being open minded, and for cultivating a friendship with a female, and for not wanting to play a character loosely modeled on myself whom I had killed for the sake of not having to play epic level characters anymore. It's possible that I'm just an asshole, and he was right to be offended. Just ask my ex. If anyone knows whether or not I'm an asshole, she would.

So, I took up the DMing mantle once again, and due to popular demand, I wrote an epic level adventure that would allow the group to resurrect my old dead character and thus restore harmony to the group. It was forty pages long. I spent days writing it. And when the time came to run the game itself, we postponed for several hours waiting for Dirk, who now had a pregnant girlfriend (he and Jeanette are still together, and while not legally married, did at least have a ceremony) and was less and less interested in playing roleplaying games with us guys. I bring this up, not because I feel he was wrong to want to spend time with the now expectant Jeanette, but because this was the beginning of his attempts to push us all away. Something that he has finally successfully done with me, more than ten years later. I suppose I should have gotten the hint a long time ago.

Even so, he came, and we played for eight solid hours. It was the longest I had ever DMed, and stands still as my record. We had six players that night. During an especially dicey encounter with a devastation spider, my brother Nigel's character failed a fortitude save vs. poison, and promptly died from the huge amount of constitution loss that resulted. The house of railroady cards I had built came crashing down, and I rather boorishly threw a tantrum before going to bed. We didn't continue the adventure I'd put so much work into, an adventure I had been forced to balance around characters whose levels varied wildly between 26th and 80th level because some wouldn't reduce their levels and others wouldn't level up their characters!

This was not to be the end of our days playing 3rd edition (or 3.5 as it was then). Eventually we all graduated high school, moved out or ended up in parent's basements as unsuccessful nerds often do. For a time, Dirk and Jeanette lived in an apartment complex not far from Jeremy's apartment, which he shared with his brother, who was no longer my friend, even though I was dense enough not to see it. By this time, my relationship with Rachel had gone sour, which was almost entirely my fault and I won't be recounting here. My heart was raw, and I wasn't the best of company, so that likely contributed to the continuing slide toward falling out with my friends.

I was humorless, and volatile. It isn't really any wonder to me now, looking back on my early twenties from the vantage point of a third decade, but at the time, I was blinded by my feelings, and so the cycle continued. Still, I was expected to DM. That had become the social contract. I DMed in Jeremy's apartment for several years, with a rotating cast of persons who sometimes would show up, and sometimes would not. I believe I once DMed for a group of ten people. It was a nightmare. Not only was I picking up the pieces of my rather co-dependent personality that had been shattered by Rachel finally having enough of my shit, and leaving like a sane person, but I was also now the "forever DM", expected to produce on demand the fun for whomever was invited.

Hilariously, this is where I met two principle members of my current group. In a fun little game of who knows who, they'd been invited because they were friends with Taylor. One of them, Carlos, the player of Lady Nora in the ASoIaF game, also the player of the elf in our Spies and Pirates game, immediately rubbed me the wrong way. Probably because he's smarter than I am, or at the very least, quicker of wit. We didn't like each other much, and he rightly thought I was a humorless jackass. That association ended when Carlos, and Taylor made a pile of drawings that were lewd puns about cocks, and inserted them between the pages of Jeremy's roleplaying games.

That prank caused him to accuse Carlos of sexual harassment, going so far as to call him when he was on vacation, and banned him from playing D&D with us. Jeremy then had us come over, and instead of playing D&D or just hanging out, and venting about the rather harmless prank, made us search his books for the drawings, and remove them rather than doing it himself. We all thought it was a funny prank, and several of the drawings were rather clever. Cockthulhu, with penises for tentacles, Cock Norris, whose hat was the head of a penis while his balls were the infamous Norris chin complete with pube beard, etc. The sheer amount of time and effort put into the prank was admirable, and even those of us who didn't like Carlos (even Roger and I) thought it was hilarious. But not Jeremy, oh no. I guess we found the actual humorless jackass in the group.

I hear that cock pictures occasionally fall out of Jeremy's roleplaying books to this day. I savor this thought.

Since it seems I've gone farther afield than I had meant to, I'm going to write a second part to this, not only to continue where I left off, but also to make up for my lack of activity in the previous weeks.

More On Magic Swords

After writing my previous post, I knew I was going to have to look at one of the more infamous magic items in D&D: the Cursed Sword.

Cursed Swords are a necessary staple of the dungeon delving genre, because it keeps players cautious about using any sword they find with a magical aura. Testing such swords against target dummies and in mock combat will reveal only that they are magical, and perform to expectations. When used in combat, however, they reveal their true natures (which is the least convenient time for them to do so).

In the Rules Cyclopedia, Cursed Swords are a result of a normal enchanted sword being generated, and then rolling a 1 or 2 on an additional d20 roll. This more or less means that the sword's +X becomes a -X to attack rolls and damage.

The 1e DMG takes a different approach to Cursed Swords, as there are three varieties:

1. The Sword +1, Cursed - This sword compels the wielder to fight opponents to the death. They cannot retreat or break off from combat. Worse, they cannot be rid of the sword by any mundane means. It cannot be dropped, and when combat begins, the sword teleports into its owner's hand. A cleric must exorcise the sword in order for the curse to lift.
2. The Sword -2, Cursed - Functions like the RC Cursed Sword, but is limited to -2 to attack rolls and damage. Like the Sword +1, Cursed, this one teleports into the users hand and forces them to wield it against all opponents. Only limited wish, wish, or alter reality can rid the unfortunate owner of this sword.
3. The Sword, Cursed Berserking - Probably the most dangerous cursed weapon, the Berserking Sword compels the wielder to attack the closest living creature and continue to fight until dead or until nothing lives within 60' of the wielder. It has a +2 bonus instead of +1, and acts in all other respects as a Sword +1, Cursed. It can only be gotten rid of through exorcism or wish.

What does this all have to do with my previously doing away with the +X bonuses? Well, if a normal enchanted sword can't have a bonus to attacks and damage, a cursed sword shouldn't have penalties to such either. Instead I propose the following:

• Cursed Swords roll two dice for damage, taking the lesser of the two results. On critical hits, Cursed Swords roll no additional dice. Cursed Swords compel their owners to prefer* them over other weapons, and their owners cannot bear to parted with them, and will try to recover the sword by any means should they be parted with it. As it is unlikely that the owner would give up the weapon willingly, they will fight anyone who tries to take it from them.
• Swords of Aggression function like normal enchanted swords, but they have the compulsion property of Cursed Swords. Swords of Aggression further compel their owner to fight opponents to the death, and they may not voluntarily break off or retreat from combat.
• Berserking Swords function as though a Sword of Aggression, but the owner is compelled to attack the closest living creature, and fight until death or until all living creatures within 60' are dead.

*By prefer, I mean that they will use the weapon to the exclusion of all others. They cannot be persuaded to use a different weapon (such as a crossbow if the party will be attempting an ambush from range), nor will they use a superior weapon if they posses one.

Depending on what version of D&D you're using, it might be necessary to use exorcism, limited wish, wish, or alter reality to free an owner of a cursed sword from the weapon. The RC uses dispel evil and remove curse for this.

There are some magic items that defy my previous post's injunction against multiple Bane properties (AD&D 1e):

1. Sword +1, Flame Tongue, +2 vs. regenerating creatures, +3 vs. cold-using, inflammable creatures, +4 vs. undead. Personally, I think the weapon is too complicated to be used "at a glance" in combat, and it should be reduced to down to something like "Flame Tongue".
2. Sword +3, Frost Brand, +6 vs. fire-using /dwelling creatures. Same deal here, and should probably be reduced down to "Frost Brand".
3. Sword +4, Defender. It's fairly straightforward, but it would be better I think to make a "Defender" property, and leave it at that.
4. Sword +5, "Holy Avenger". I think these swords are going to be complicated no matter what if one is trying to preserve their flavor and intent.
5. Sword of Dancing. This version is very complex, and I think the "Dancing" property would be more like 3.5's version (I know, I know, boo).

 So, how would I change these to simpler, less complex versions?

• Flame Tongue: Flame Tongue swords grant an additional die of fire damage. On a critical hit, this damage is doubled (so, two dice of fire damage). Can be caused to burst into flame with a command word or phrase, shedding light like a torch. The aura of flame can ignite oil, burn webs, or set fire to paper, parchment, and dry wood.

Personally, I think that's better, more succinct, and since creatures like trolls already can't regenerate fire or acid damage, the Flame Tongue retains its usefulness against them. Creatures immune to fire damage simply ignore the extra die of fire damage.

• Frost Brand: A Frost Brand weapon grants an additional die of frost damage. On a critical hit, this damage is doubled (two dice of frost damage). It sheds no light, but the weapon is cold to the touch, and ice crystals may form on it. It acts as a ring of fire resistance and can extinguish fire in a 10' radius when thrust into them (this includes walls of fire).

Originally, the fire extinguishing power was a 50% chance, but all that really does is make players try it twice or even three times before it works. Simpler just to say the sword can and does extinguish fires.

• Defender: Defender weapons can be used as normal magic swords, or they can be used to defend their owner, sacrificing their "best of two" property. When Defending, the extra die is rolled on the owner's turn and counts as damage negation until their next turn when the die is rolled again. For example, if a 5 was rolled, 5 damage would be potentially negated that round. If a goblin attacks the example wielder and scores 3 damage, the damage negation would come into effect, and there would be 2 damage negation points remaining. If another foe attacked the wielder and scored 4 damage, only 2 points would be negated. The remaining 2 would go straight to HP, and any further successful attacks would also go straight to HP.

This might be more complicated than I meant to make it, but I felt damage reduction was too strong. What we have now is something like ablative armor or temporary hit points instead

• Holy Avenger: In the hands of ordinary warriors, Holy Avengers function as normal enchanted swords. In the hands of a paladin (or cleric, if you don't use paladins) Holy Avengers grant an additional die of damage against creatures of chaotic alignment (or chaotic and evil alignments, if you're using the 9 alignments). Additionally it grants its wielder 50% magic resistance and they can dispel magic in a 5' radius as a spellcaster of their experience level.

It's not really any different, the only changes are to account for games that are derivatives of Basic, since they don't generally use paladins or the 9 alignments. Yes, I know that name-level fighters in  the RC who are lawful become paladins.

• Dancing: A dancing weapon will fight on its own for five rounds and then return to the wielder. It must then be used in melee by the wielder for five rounds before it can fight on its own again. It fights at the same level and class as its owner.

The description in the 1e DMG is far, far more complex.

I may revisit this in another post. There's a lot of weapons that could benefit from simplification, but these are the "big" ones that commonly found and used by player characters.

On Magic Swords (and other violent implements)

My friend (who plays, or rather, played the elf in the Spies and Pirates game) and I stayed up rather late tonight after a game of Microscope where we were building a sword and sorcery world talking not only about said world, but our conversation also meandered into OSR territory... and our topic, magic swords.

The both of us are somewhat disappointed with the whole idea of +X weapons in D&D. Not only is it incredibly underwhelming that +1 swords go out of style faster than goldfish platform shoes, but it's also incredibly frustrating from a world-building perspective. Why would anyone make or enchant a +1 sword when +5 swords are clearly superior? Practice? Is there a sweatshop somewhere where lowly apprentices are made to slave over crude iron swords, rubbing them with rare ingredients in the desperate hope that some magic will flare to life in the cold metal dug from the earth by enslaved goblins? Will they be beaten and starved if they don't meet their quota of one enchanted sword per day?

Some of my irritation is partly based on the Ye Olde Magick Shoppe trope where adventurers can buy and sell magic items because it's convenient, and +1 swords are yawn inducing after the fifth one you find, so shouldn't there be a way to offload these crappy things to get a better sword? And why would anyone care about +1 swords anyway? It's just a +5% to-hit! Completely useless to anyone who isn't an adventurer or soldier type, so why wouldn't there be a market for this crap?

As much as it pains me to admit, those that throw these arguments around have a point. I don't have to like it, but I'm not so arrogant or stupid to think that they're completely foolish to have these notions. I do however blame the idea of D&D's magic swords for creating this culture of dismissal and disdain. My friend and I were discussing the ways in which weapons are differentiated from one another, where some OSR folks like lots of little bonuses and penalties depending on weapon/armor interaction, and some of us just want something streamlined that works, and then gets the hell out of the way. Both the elf's player and I are firmly in the latter camp.

So, to this end, we propose to do away with +X entirely. A magic weapon is a magic weapon. It doesn't alter to-hit probabilities, and doesn't do any extra damage (excepting specific sorts of weapons). But then, what makes a magic sword special?

Enchanted weapons have the following in common:

• They are difficult to break (any attack that would destroy a mundane weapon only has a 1 in 6 chance to destroy an enchanted weapon).
• They require the bare minimum of maintenance to keep them in combat shape. Wiping them clean is generally sufficient to protect them from the ravages of wear and time. An enchanted weapon never needs to be sharpened.
• They can harm monsters that cannot be harmed by mundane weapons (yes, I realize this means that monsters that can't be hit by +2 or worse weapons are now much more vulnerable, but I think this is a fair trade off for not getting straight damage bonuses)
• They deal an extra die of damage, but only the best of the two results is kept. A critical hit would roll 3d6, the two best of the three being kept.

Additionally, some weapons are built to fight specific foes:

• Bane weapons allow the wielder to roll an extra die of damage against the creature that the weapon was enchanted to defeat. E.g., a Goblin Bane Sword would deal 1d6 base damage, with an additional enchanted die where the best of two are kept, and then an extra 1d6 vs. Goblins only.
• Slaying weapons would necessitate a saving throw vs. death. Some especially strong Slaying weapons might impose penalties to this saving throw.
• A weapon can be both Slaying and Bane, but they must be for the same type of monster, and an enchanted weapon could not be enchanted with more than one Slaying or Bane property.

Most other magic item properties should have fantastic or utility powers. A sword that glows (or glows when particular monsters are near) are not only good for light (and thus save on torches and lamp oil) but can also serve to forewarn adventurers - but there's also that slight problem that the glow may not be able to be turned off, thus exposing the party (or just the character wielding it) to scrutiny and possibly attack.

It's late where I am (or early, depending on whether or not you went to sleep at a reasonable hour), so I won't be developing this as thoroughly as I might otherwise. But fear not, once I've slept I'll crack open my 1e DMG and my RC and see if there's some other magic item properties I should adapt to this particular take on magic items. In my own games, I prefer magic items to be a big deal. I don't like the idea of there being a white or grey market for magic items, and that in general, magic items are not sold for money unless someone is extremely desperate or extremely foolish, and are instead traded for other magic items.

I will likely go into this in more depth in another post where I'm not delirious from lack of sleep.