Wednesday, August 23, 2017

Spies and Pirates, Part V

In the wake of the Elf's death, the Dwarf and Specialist tended to the Crusader's wounds. He would make it, if they could get him back to Aldentown. The Dwarf explored the cavern where they had first encountered the goblins. He examined the mining automaton, and noted the extensive damage its right arm had received. Leery of reactivating it, he continued his searches until he discovered a bit of stonework that didn't look quite right.

The stonework turned out to be a facade, and behind that facade was a small workshop meant for repairing the mining automatons. Most of the tools and spare parts were gone, but there was a spare right arm. The Dwarf and Specialist set to work repairing the machine. After accomplishing their goal and reactivating the machine, the Dwarf set to work on an unpleasant task.

He searched through the rubble and bodies caused by the Elf's explosive end, looking for their letter of authority and the sword that the Crusader had hidden it in. With some very messy effort, he found it. Unfortunately, it was now mangled, and the force of the explosion had cracked the hilt where the papers were stored. Blood had soaked them into illegibility.

While he toiled, a goblin woman came forward bearing a ring, speaking in broken dwarven. She made placative gestures and and said the dwarf word for "surrender". The Dwarf's angry shouts and hostile body language sent her fleeing, but not before she dropped the ring*. Troubled by the heroic death of the Elf, the Dwarf used the rest of the gunpowder the party had to make demolition points in the unexplored tunnel. When he was done, the explosions collapsed the tunnels, possibly forever.

And with that, the Specialist and Dwarf, carrying the Crusader in a makeshift travois and the automaton stomping behind, made their way back toward Aldentown, and were joined by Ebrulf.

When they arrived, the townsfolk were saddened to hear of the death of the Elf, and they were very concerned for the Crusader. The Dwarf and Specialist let the villagers take the Crusader away to the Moosefoot so that he could be tended by whatever alchemists, witches, or healers existed in the place. As for the automaton, the Dwarf chose to hide it in an abandoned barn. He made the risky choice to deactivate the great old machine, not knowing for sure if it would ever roar to life again.

It was many days before the Crusader was well, but he was also wounded in spirit. He had lost his holy symbol along with his sword, and felt keenly bereft. The healer who had tended his wounds relayed his hurt to the village's goldsmith, and they fashioned him a new one, though the church fathers would likely have despised it for its pagan imagery. The Crusader though was gladdened however, and felt the kindness and generosity of the villagers of Aldentown was a worthy reason to keep it.

And this is unfortunately, the last part of the tale, because Carlos has yet to make a replacement for his Elf. But that's okay. Because we've also played a few other games, notably, one involving ray guns and aliens.

*The ring was a ring of protection +1.

Friday, July 28, 2017

The Case Against AD&D - Ability Scores, pt. 8

After a bit of a hiatus, I'm back with the final word on ability scores in AD&D 2e. I've been dealing with a situation at home that's been something of a disaster, and been having to make time for physical therapy appointments, so less time for examining a roleplaying game older than I am.

Ability Score Requirements

We've talked about the ability scores themselves, but we've only briefly touched on ability score requirements, which will inevitably lead into my examination of the races and classes, but let's just talk about the requirements for those for now. Personally, I'm not a fan, and I'm not a fan because  they made humans the default with unlimited potential, but with higher ability scores you can play something right now that starts more powerful and won't actually have to pay the price for it unless you somehow manage to actually get to the racial maximums.

So, if you're fortunate enough to roll good ability scores, there's not really a reason not to play a better race or class, or combination thereof is there? 
 
Racial Minimums

Well, let's take a look at racial minimums. Taking into account the average roll for 4d6 drop the lowest (16, 14, 13, 12, 10, 9), you can see that in general, there's no race you can't qualify for with that array. This is genuinely to the good. However, things get more complicated as we go along.

Class Minimums

 Here we have the class minimums, which throw a big ol' wrench into the process of picking a race and class.

With the average array, you can't qualify for Paladin or Ranger. You would also be required to sacrifice your highest ability score in order to play most of the Mage specialist classes, leaving you with a significantly less impressive 14 for your prime requisite, Intelligence.

For a further wrinkle, there are just some class and race combos you can't choose at all. But, let's do a bit of an experiment.

We have the average array (16, 14, 13, 12, 10, 9), and we want to play an elf. Thus, we can add a +1 to Dexterity and a -1 to Constitution to the final ability scores. In this case, we could qualify for the Ranger class, so long as we put our 16 in Constitution, our 12 in Dexterity, our 14 in Wisdom, and our 13 in Strength. The 9 can go to Intelligence, and the 10 to Charisma, our "dump stats". Either way, we're stuck with a max level of 15 as a Ranger unless optional rules are in play (level restrictions were the way in which the game "balanced" the superior starting abilities of demihumans - which is to say, not at all in any realistic sense).

On the other hand, we could have played a generalist Mage and put that 16 into Intelligence. Or a Fighter and had the 16 in Strength. Another option (which I think is superior) is to play a Fighter/Wizard, placing 16 in Strength, 13 in Intelligence, and 14 (now a 13) in Constitution. This is because elves can multiclass, gaining all the benefits of the two classes at the cost of having to level both classes by splitting XP between them. They only need to qualify for the classes to do this (though they're restricted to Fighter/Mage, Fighter/Thief, and Mage/Thief combinations).

A human character with the same array is unable to qualify for Ranger at all, and can't multiclass.

Comparing Characters

I should save some of this for my comparison of the races, but I think it illustrates the point I'm getting at. Without going into huge amounts of detail about racial abilities, let's start off by stating that humans have no advantages and no weaknesses. They are a blank slate. Their largest "advantage" which is more like a remote option, is that they are the only race that can take the Paladin class (I'm sure some Planescape fan is waving their arms and saying "But-!" But nothing. Save it. We're talking just the PHB here, and have been since the beginning. I may touch on campaign settings at some future date, but not right now).

Elves, on the other hand, are all but immune to sleep and charm effects, they get a small bonus (+1) to fighting with bows (but not crossbows) and small and long swords. They can surprise enemies if not wearing metal armor. They can see in darkness up to 60 feet. They have a better chance to detect secret doors in dungeons. And lastly, as I discussed above, elves get a +1 to Dexterity and a -1 to Constitution (maximum is still 18, despite many house rules I've encountered over the years). They also have level restrictions according to the table above, if you want to consider that a true limitation.

So, keeping this in mind, you can play a human Fighter with 16 Strength, 14 Constitution and the other stats distributed how you like, or an elf Fighter/Wizard with 16 Strength, 13 Con, and 13 Intelligence. Or you could play a Ranger, and be really cool, because the human can't even qualify for it. Rangers, if you're not aware, get dual-wielding (a melee weapon in each hand), better attacks with bows, animal companions, and eventually, druid spells. They also have a bunch of skills directly related to "solving" wilderness encounters. Straight Fighters really only have weapon specialization going for them (which is again, another reason why you shouldn't take it away from them and give it to all the warrior classes. You could call it "Fighters Now Suck" the house rule).

Do I even have a conclusion?

To answer the question, yes, I do have a conclusion. Looking back on all of my ruminations on the ability scores, I'm of the opinion that how AD&D approaches them is flawed. It has made them way, way more important than they should be, and restricts interesting class options behind a wall of requirements that almost ensures your character is going to "suck" compared to someone who picked a more straightforward class and put their highest ability scores into the prime requisite.
On the other hand, there's combos like the elf Fighter/Wizard that basically screams "I'm the best option you'll get at 1st level!" You can fight well, and you can cast spells, have superior senses, and are practically immune to common spells and effects that can shut down an entire encounter. The XP splitting could potentially be considered a crippling disadvantage, except of course, you now have more tools in your toolbox to solve problems with, and can resort to just Fighting your way out if you have to. Sounds to me like the elf Fighter/Wizard has a strong chance to live to see the fruits of all that XP gathered.

By making ability scores as important as they are (in particular high ability scores), the AD&D game creates this tiny niches for characters to fall into. Our average array human will never get to play a Paladin or Ranger. The elf can only be certain classes, and while one of them is potentially interesting to play, it's clearly an inferior option to the Fighter/Wizard. Moreover... the level limit doesn't actually matter at all at 1st level, or even 10th level. If you managed to reach 12th level as a Fighter/Wizard, then (and only then) does it become a potential issue. But, bear in mind that this is 1,750,000 XP. A single classed Ranger is 13th level, a single classed Fighter is 15th, and a single classed Mage is 14th level. Not as huge a difference as it seems.

Inevitably, AD&D 2e has a propensity to encourage higher ability scores, both for qualifying for classes, but also for races, and then taking those and combining them to the strongest effect. This is exacerbated by the occasionally nonsensical ability score progressions (exceptional strength), or the bizarre upward scaling of the post 18 scores.

I've known and encountered plenty of players who either played 2e or ran 2e games, and almost universally, they ignore things like level limits, racial restrictions, and ability score requirements. For my part, I can't blame them. However, there is something charming about playing a game as it was intended to be played, rather than "fixing" it because we don't agree with some of the choices that were made. It would be akin to "fixing" chess by removing the knight's ability to move over pieces in it's path.

As for me, if I didn't like the knight's abilities, I'd just play a different game. Which is exactly what I already do with D&D. I prefer Basic and its variants to AD&D's maddening exceptions and obtuse subsystems. But if you like AD&D, more power to you. I'm not here to attack your choice of game, merely to present the case of why I in particular abandoned the system in my quest for the flavor of Dungeons & Dragons that would satisfy me.

Wednesday, July 5, 2017

The Case Against AD&D - Ability Scores, pt. 7

Dump Stat?


Charisma has an interesting history, and depending on the edition, had the most mechanical effect, or the least. It was also the most likely of the ability scores to be forgotten during play. In Basic D&D, Charisma determined NPC reactions, the morale of henchmen, and in some iterations, the maximum number of henchmen that could be hired. It changed very little with AD&D, but AD&D 2e's focus on story XP rewards and fighting monsters instead of hauling treasure (relegating that rule to an option in the DMG), it became less important for the PCs to hire henchmen. Additionally, the more immediate gains of exceptional Strength and high Constitution or high Intelligence and Wisdom meant that players were less likely to want to share treasure and XP with henchmen.

A Rundown on Charisma

So what exactly does Charisma do in AD&D 2e? Let's take a look.

The first derived score we have on the chart is the maximum number of henchmen. Henchmen in AD&D are essentially adventurers of lower level who are attracted to the PC's reputation. They are paid in shares (half a share) of treasure. There's a bunch of assumptions in there that are key to how all of this works, and before I move on to the other components of Charisma I'd like to talk about them.

First off, shares. Shares of treasure, specifically. In older editions, XP is determined by treasure being removed from dungeons and other adventuring locations, and brought back to civilization (some groups have a variant of this where you have to spend the treasure on frivolities to get XP out of it). How does a group go about dividing the treasure among themselves and their NPC staff? There are some guidelines in both editions of AD&D, but the simplest is to divide treasure into equal shares among the PCs. Henchmen would get either a full share, or half a share, and retainers and hirelings would get paid their wage (some classes attract retainers, warriors and others attracted to the charisma and reputation of the PC, but not as reliable or capable as henchmen; hirelings are just that, hired help. They could be laborers, guards, or specialists like sages and smiths. They too are paid a wage).

So, you can see how in an older edition like the various flavors of Basic or even AD&D 1e, where treasure equals XP, divvying up the XP to NPCs can seem like a blow. In 2e however, it becomes mostly a case of losing some cash and moving on. Since being introduced to OSR, my opinion on treasure as XP has changed. I had been aware that it was used in AD&D 1e, and that 2e had an optional rule, but I had been against the whole idea because it seemed to unnecessarily focus on treasure and its acquisition.

But, like all things, if you dig a bit deeper there's usually more to it than that.

Treasure as XP is a fast and fair method of determining risk vs. reward. Since monsters generally give less XP in systems that use treasure as XP, the reward for the risk is very poor. But, retrieving treasure without fights or without tripping traps can provide a great deal of wealth and XP. Interestingly enough encumbrance becomes more important where treasure as XP is used, since it not only constricts your ability to bring tools to deal with challenges in the adventuring location, but it also restricts your ability to bring treasure out without getting into fights (the longer you spend in the dungeon, the higher the chance you'll encounter hostile wandering monsters).

So, henchmen, retainers, and hirelings can alleviate this situation somewhat, at the cost of having to pay wages and shares. But, with more hands, you can carry more tools and carry more treasure. It also potentially spreads damage among the party. All of this interacts, and if you remove one portion of it, as AD&D 2e does, it causes the other portions to have a smaller, less impactful role in the rule set. Without treasure as XP, it's less important to have more hands to retrieve treasure. With more XP for fighting monsters, there's less reason to avoid them and more reason to ambush them with the intent to kill them for the XP. There's thus, less reason to bring XP and treasure siphoning NPCs along for the ride.

Bloody minded players might say "Yes, but you don't have to pay wages or shares to dead NPCs", but that leads directly into the discussion of the remaining derived scores.

Loyalty Base determines the bonus to the morale score of any given NPC. Morale checks are made by rolling 2d10 and anything below the NPC's morale score is a successful check (in other words, they don't panic or run or fail to do what they were ordered to do). Obviously, some roleplaying should inform how this works, but that's the quick and dirty of it. So, as you've likely surmised by this point, treating NPCs badly or putting them into suicidal situations will generally cause their morale to deteriorate until they fail a check and either balk, or flee.

Which in turn will harm the PC's reputation, leading to henchmen being less likely to seek employment under them. I suppose, yes, you could kill henchmen and NPCs who balk or attempt to flee, thus preventing them from spreading their stories of the PC's cruelty and insanity, but mysterious deaths and the fact that few if any people come back from expeditions involving that PC or party is going to be grist for the rumor mill.

The final derived score is Reaction Adjustment, and although carrying the same name with Dexterity's Reaction Adjustment, it applies to rolls similar to morale and loyalty checks, but it affects how NPCs react to the PCs. Rolling low is better, but there's no score you have to roll under, and it isn't a simple pass/fail. In specific, Reaction Adjustment is not for general PC/NPC interactions, but specifically for dungeon encounters. Even then, it's not always necessary to roll, since some NPCs are going to be hostile regardless (for example, if the PCs desecrated a temple as we did in one of Carlos' games).

Final Words

I dislike how it scales (what else is new?) and it doesn't follow any sort of internal logic that I can discern. Particularly where the number of henchmen are concerned, there's an enormous gap between the 10 of 17 Charisma, and the 15 of 18 Charisma. Reaction Adjustment and Loyalty Base also scale rapidly at the high end of the range.

The scores over 18 scale in a regular and predictable fashion, but they scale to heights that are in a word, absurd. You end up with 50 henchmen at 25 Charisma, Loyalty Base becomes 20, which effectively means none of your followers can ever fail a morale or loyalty check, and the Reaction Adjustment ensures that it will almost always be the most favorable outcome depending on the PC's behavior.

Granted, these scores are meant for gods, but it is possible for PCs to attain them, either through magical items or spells.

So, here we are, at the end of the ability scores. But is this series done? No. Not quite yet. I've got some more things to say, and that'll be saved for Part 8. After that, I intend to take a look at the classes, but there might be a break in between for catching up on stories I've related before.

Monday, July 3, 2017

The Case Against AD&D - Ability Scores, pt. 6

Getting Wise

Piety. Serenity. Willpower. Perception. Wisdom has always had something of a broad collection of things attributed to it, and it hasn't always made a huge amount of sense. Something that has stayed true though is that Wisdom generally allows a character to resist spells, whether it be all spells, or just mind control.

As an ability score, Wisdom has nearly always felt like an appendage, but in AD&D 2e, it has something of a redundant grab bag of subabilities, some of which that are only relevant if you have a higher score than can be rolled on the dice. So, let's talk about them.

Navel Gazing

 The first derived statistic or subability is Magical Defense Adjustment, which modifies saving throws against spells that attack the mind (the examples given in the book are beguiling, charm, fear, hypnosis, possession, suggestion, and etc.). This is fairly consistent with most editions of D&D, generally modifying the Spell save (in 3rd edition and beyond, it would modify the Will save). In AD&D, this bonus only applies at the highest scores of the ability score. You can see where I'm going with that if you've been following this series, but I will say that it's one of the more acceptable progressions among the six.


The second is Bonus Spells, and the entries on the table are cumulative. This is a derived statistic that would be carried over to 3rd edition, though it would take a different form, and apply to all spellcasting classes. In both AD&D 1e and 2e, this applies only to Clerics and priests. A starting Cleric with an 18 would be entitled to two 1st level, two 2nd level, one 3rd, and one 4th level spell slots in addition to their normal slots per day. Considering that they would need to wait until 7th level to make use of these, it doesn't seem like it would help much. But, at 1st level, it more than doubles their available spell slots. Note that Paladins do not gain extra spells for high Wisdom.

The third is Chance of Spell Failure. I do understand why there are failure percentages below 9 Wisdom (the minimum for the Cleric class), but what I don't understand, is why this exists at all. Essentially, any Cleric or priest with a 13 or lower Wisdom is extremely unattractive to play, though I wouldn't go so far as to say unplayable. It does though beg the question: Why discourage players from playing Clerics? Clerics have always been powerful and versatile, able to wear heavy armor and cast spells, and being capable of fighting well and surviving on the front line with their decent hit points. However, they already have a rather slow spell progression. You'll notice that the previous derived statistic, Bonus Spells, also doesn't bring benefits until 13 Wisdom.

To me, it really does discourage anyone with less than 13 Wisdom. Furthermore, it can't be to discourage Paladins, because Paladins are required to have a minimum of 13 in Wisdom. Ultimately, there's a narrow range between 9 and 12 where the Cleric is playable, but is handicapped by a spell failure chance. I'm baffled as to why this is, and it's one of the things I would drop were I interested in running 2e.

Spell Immunity is the final category, and it only applies to scores over 18. Personally, I feel like this is doing double duty, since there's already a bonus to saving throws, but ultimately, I know exactly why this exists, and it's to protect deities from these spells by granting them complete immunity. There's a lot I could say about gods and the folly of statting them out, but that isn't the focus of this series. For the most part, I just think it's a waste and that it's unnecessary since gods could just be immune based on their status as Lesser, Intermediate, or Greater.

Curiously, the only two categories that increase or change after 18 are bonus spells and the spell immunity. Bonus spells are fairly important advantages, and being immune to various spells that can take control of your character is attractive. So, once again, chasing higher ability scores is encouraged by these boons.

Enlightenment?
  
Wisdom as an ability score leaves a lot to be desired. While I'm happy that the spell save modifier doesn't increase past 18, we're still left with needless fat like the spell failure chance that only applies to a handful of potential characters. The spell immunity is messy and unnecessary for player characters. Bonus spells are a powerful advantage, but it scales in a strange way that complicates book keeping.

If spell immunity is necessary for NPCs or deities, then it would have made far more sense to have guidance for NPCs and a separate quality for immunity for deities. Bonus spells scale bizarrely, and I'm of the opinion that they're unnecessary and could have just been scaled better in the Cleric/priest class's spell progression. As far as spell failure is concerned? It shouldn't exist. It only applies to a small percentage of beginning characters, and even taking ability damage into account, I find myself at a loss to find a reason for it to exist and be tracked. It's extra book keeping for no reward.

Wednesday, June 28, 2017

The Case Against AD&D - Ability Scores, pt. 5

Smarts

Dungeons & Dragons has a bit of a complicated history with ability scores, and they went from having barely any mechanical effect to becoming the core of each character's abilities, over and above their class or race. Obviously, I prefer them being consistent, and consistently small in their mechanical effect, since a character's class should have more of an effect on their abilities, otherwise you wind up with incompetent characters (which admittedly can be fun in the right sort of game). The issue of competency has no more stark example than does Intelligence.

Intelligence also has implications for roleplaying, since a "smart" character can generally be assumed to be clever, logical, inventive, and a plethora of other nice sounding descriptions. The truth of the matter is, however, that the "cleverness" of a given character is poorly modeled by roleplaying game mechanics, and in general, their actual cleverness will be a confluence of the player's cleverness, and the DM's permissiveness. Take for example, the quintessential notion of using Intelligence to determine whether or not a player character can solve a puzzle, remember a clue, or come up with a tactically sound plan.

Solving a puzzle through a check sort of seems reasonable on the surface, since a "smart" character will have a greater chance to succeed. In practice, it removes any real engagement with the environment, and creates the additional problem of there being a flat chance that a "smart" character will fail to solve an extremely easy or obvious puzzle thanks to the dice.

Using Intelligence as a measure of memory also seems like it would be a good fit, but I've known plenty of otherwise smart people who have terrible recall for any number of things (grocery lists, something they just read, where they put their keys, etc.). In addition, I think it's more than fair to allow players to keep notes, and to remind them of something their character should know if the situation warrants it.

Now, a tactically sound plan on the other hand is so vague that it's completely useless. I've seen it modeled in games as bonuses to attack and defense for the side whose commander made the appropriate check, but then you get weird situations where both sides have tactically sound plans, or both sides have made blunders. Worse, a side may have rolled that it made a catastrophic blunder, but then the players make tactically brilliant moves in the actual combat play, and still manage to snag a victory. You could retcon the situation to be that the plan was poor, but they managed to adapt and improvise during the battle to eke out a win, but this is for me, unsatisfying and artificial.

In the case of a stupid player rolling Intelligence in order to "do smart things" it's literally just the DM telling the stupid player what they need to do in order to win, rather like having a grandmaster sitting next to you telling you how to beat your opponent at chess (I know, the analogy is weak - chess is competitive, D&D and most other RPGs are not). At this point, you're not actually playing the game, someone else is, and you're just going through the motions. I may be a bad person for this, but I feel that stupid players should just fail over and over again if they keep acting like an idiot. That they're incapable of doing anything else is not really my fault, or my problem.

Mechanical Effects of Intelligence

So what exactly does Intelligence actually do in AD&D 2e, aside from gauge how "smart" a character is? Well, let's take a look.

The first derived ability of a character's Intelligence is the number of languages that they can know. According to the Players Handbook, this can represent either the number of languages your character can speak, or the maximum potential languages your character can know. Additionally, it's the number of bonus non-weapon proficiencies a character can have in addition to the ones granted by their class. I'm not super fond of this (or the way it scales), but for the most part, it's reasonable that there should be a way of determining if a character knows more than just their racial or cultural languages.

Next is spell level, which is the highest level spells a character with the Wizard class can cast. This is one of my biggest gripes with AD&D, since having high enough Intelligence implies that a.) anyone can become a Wizard if they just applied themselves, and b.) that any Wizard with less than 18 Intelligence is incompetent by default. Let's examine that a bit further.

According to the table, 9 Intelligence (the minimum for being a mage of any stripe) allows you to cast up to 4th level spells. This by itself, goes the logic, should be enough to encourage anyone with any sense or ambition to be a mage or Wizard, since it allows them access to reality bending powers than can make their life easier, more interesting, and they would have access to powers that allow them to become even more powerful over time. I've seen this argument in many forms over the years, generally used for 3rd edition, but the same logic applies here. AD&D 2e still has 0-level NPCs, and 3rd edition has NPC classes, but proponents of the Intelligence = Ultimate Cosmic Power/Anyone Who Didn't Choose the Wizard Class is Retarded argument seem to ignore that in early editions, anyway, PCs are exceptional (due to training, bloodline, whathaveyou) and that magic isn't necessarily open to everyone.

But I can see where the Wizard or Bust! camp gets the idea, since the rules do in fact reflect how things work in the game world (it's one of the reasons why having the rules separate from the lore is potentially disastrous). Exceptionalism in heroes is not a new idea, and previous editions of D&D have reinforced this idea with 0-level characters. 2nd edition retains this feature, though a later splatbook, Sages & Specialists exists - and I'm not jazzed about it. It was a prelude to the stupidity of NPC classes in 3rd edition. Speaking of, 3rd edition has no clear divide between heroic characters and non-heroic ones aside from the fact that PCs are always heroic, and NPC classes are generally worse than PC ones. They're built the same way as PCs, and this adds weight to the Wizard or Bust! camp's argument (at least, for that specific edition).

Whether or not this implication is true is going to be determined by what the DM prefers and has chosen for their particular campaign world. Either way though, the DM is going to have to grapple with the this, because those assumptions are implicit in the rules, and Intelligence's role in determining spellcasting proficiency is explicit. They're going to have to have either a good explanation for why the lore doesn't match up with the rules, or players who are willing to play along.

As far as being competent or incompetent is concerned, note that in order to have the potential to cast 9th level spells, a Wizard or mage needs 18 Intelligence, the highest possible natural roll. In 3rd edition, spell level was directly a factor of Intelligence, in that the highest level of spell you could cast was determined by [(Intelligence-10) greater than, or equal to (spell level)]. This is further compounded in 3rd edition because your Intelligence modifier directly determines your spell save DCs, so higher Intelligence equals spells that are harder to resist. AD&D 2e mages and Wizards do not have this, but having a low Intelligence certainly does prevent a Wizard or mage from realizing their true potential.

Contrast all of this with Basic and retroclones: Intelligence has nothing to do with spellcasting, not even as a requirement to take the class. They're completely decoupled, and as a result, there are two things we can draw from this:
  1. Intelligence has nothing to do with being a Magic User. There are smart Magic Users, and dumb ones. Maybe anyone can become a Magic User with the right training, but it's equally possible that they require some kind of special bloodline, or must transcend to a more enlightened state, or truck with dark powers beyond the mortal ken. Any or all of these can be true.
  2. A Magic Users's competency is a function of their experience level rather than a single ability score.
Personally, I think this is to the system's advantage, both mechanically and for roleplaying purposes because it not only allows Magic User to be competent at their role despite rolling poorly for Intelligence, but it also allows the player and the DM to have leeway to explain what powers the Magic User's spells.

Moving on, we have the Chance to Learn Spell. This is the chance a character can successfully copy a spell from a scroll, which again, means that low Intelligence Wizards and mages are falling into that incompetency accusation. In all the retroclones that I have, scribing scrolls into spellbooks only costs money and time. In the D&D Rules Cyclopedia, this still holds true. I'm not sure about Holmes Basic, Mentzer Basic, or even OD&D, but I can ask Carlos when I get the chance.

The Maximum Spells per Level section is optional, but it limits a Wizard to a certain number of spells per each level, as advertised. There's an optional spell research rule that would allow them to bypass this, but frankly, I think that it shouldn't exist and if there's a spell research rule, you may as well require them to research any spell that they don't have a scroll to copy from.

Illusion Immunity is only relevant for gray elves and other creatures that can conceivably have a 19 in Intelligence to start with. However, that immunity is just another reason to accumulate a high Intelligence score, even for non-Wizards. Like I keep harping on, this is not a good thing, and encourages a style of play where everyone seeks every opportunity to acquire more ability score points.

Final Thoughts

While Intelligence affects more than just spellcasting, spellcasting arguably dominates any conversation you could have about Intelligence. Having an ability score that so completely determines a character's capability to perform their role in the party ends up being harmful to the game. It also has implications for how the campaign world works, which may or may not appeal.

If we consider the average roll of 4d6 drop the lowest, a 16 is not terrible. It would allow up to 8th level spells, something a Wizard won't have to worry about until 18th level (hilariously, this is one of the areas in which AD&D is superior to 3e). However, they have a 70% chance to scribe scrolls into their spellbooks, and while that seems like it would be a pretty high chance, it's still a greater than a 1 in 4 chance to fail to scribe the scroll, raising questions of the Wizard's competency.

Whether it bothers you from a mechanical, lore, or roleplaying perspective, or all three, Intelligence is an ability score that comes with a whole bunch of issues. Obviously, not everyone is bothered by the assumptions implicit in the score, but for my part, I'd rather that Intelligence be a rough roleplaying guidepost, or non-existent, rather than an integral pillar of the game's mechanics given the way it is presented in AD&D and later editions.

Monday, June 26, 2017

The Case Against AD&D - Ability Scores, pt. 4

Constitution is one of the most important ability scores in the D&D game, and I think, occasionally an underrated one. When I was first introduced to the game, the group that did so never emphasized the importance of the ability score, and I recall that they wouldn't prioritize Constitution over other ability scores (most of our play was during 3rd edition, so that may have had something to do with it, but I doubt it).

Most editions of D&D have differing hit dice values for each class, meaning that classes use a different die with a particular range. In AD&D 2e, mage classes (Wizards, Illusionists, Elementalists, etc.) use a d4, rogues (Thieves, Bards, etc.) use a d6, priests (Specialty Priests/Clerics, Druids, etc.) use a d8, and warriors use a d10. Because of this, Constitution actually benefits the smaller dice by a greater amount. In Basic Fantasy RPG, a character with a 16 Constitution would have a +2 bonus to HP. Let's do some math with that assumption.

Both BFRPG and AD&D 2e have rolled hit points at 1st level, so we can (for the sake of discussion) use the average per die. BFRPG uses slightly smaller hit dice for classes, so Fighters use d8s, Clerics use d6s, and Magic Users and Thieves use d4s.

Knowing this, a Fighter would have a range of 3-10 hp per level, and an average of 6.5. A Cleric would have 3-8, with an average of 5.5. Magic Users and Thieves would have a range of 3-7, with an average of 4.5. For Magic Users and Thieves, the +2 bonus Constitution from a 16 is an 80% increase over their average. But for Fighters, it's only a 44% increase. In the time that I've been a fan of D&D and been a part of online communities, the more math savvy have pointed out that the percentage of the increase greatly favors the smaller dice as far as the raw increase is concerned. This means that a Fighter in BFRPG has less reason to desire a high Constitution, because the bonus doesn't make as large an impact on their hit points from hit dice (however, veteran players will rightly point out that even a single extra hit point can spell the difference between victory and defeat).

Constitution and AD&D 2e

Interestingly, AD&D makes an effort to ensure high Constitution scores have a bigger impact for warrior classes. I'm not convinced it is successful, but I'll give them some credit for trying. However, I have some issues with some of the derived statistics the are tied to Constitution in AD&D. In particular are System Shock, and Resurrection Survival. System Shock is basically another form of saving throw vs. death, but it pertains to most effects that change your shape or form in some way (petrification, polymorph, and magical aging). Bizarrely, it also determines whether you survive being restored to normalcy after being subjected to a spell or effect that reverses petrification. So, you have to make a System Shock check to survive being turned to stone, then make another one to survive the reversal of the process. And it gets better.

Let's say you failed to survive being rescued from petrification and after your party pooled together their resources and possibly even performed a quest, the local priest casts a raise dead. You're then, at that time, required to roll a Resurrection Survival Check. The chance of failure is very small, but it's still possible for you fail to survive being resurrected. I continually find myself bemused that these even exist in the game, because you already have saves for death and petrification, and you don't use those saving throws for System Shock or Resurrection Survival.

Arguably, System Shock and Resurrection Survival add a particular flavor to the game's world by being present, in that dangerous magical transformations, and divine intervention to bring a person back from the clammy fist of death can turn out unfavorably for the character. In System Shock's defense, its general use is to protect PCs from things that logically should kill them (like being turned to stone) but their status as heroic figures has a chance to save them. But, that defense falls a tad flat in my personal opinion. To me it seems like an unnecessary extra roll to make players sweat, and since it can also be used to make the reversal of petrification deadly, it's the sort of rule that can sour the relationship between players and DMs.

Resurrection Survival on the other hand exists solely to make life difficult, and because it's already unlikely that PCs will be getting resurrected regularly, it seems like an added complication for little reward. What, ultimately, does Resurrection Survival bring to the game to justify its existence? In my opinion, the "world flavor" isn't enough. Worse, I don't think it's necessary for it to be tied to Constitution, it could have easily been integrated into the raise dead and resurrection spells as part of their effect. For my part, I don't think that these two derived statistics have a place in the game, and I wonder how many groups out there simply glossed over these two scores in their games because they were unnecessary or bogged down play.

The bonus to Poison saving throws is completely irrelevant to beginning characters, save elves and dwarves, since it's impossible to roll a score that provides a bonus or penalty. An elf who rolled a 3 could theoretically begin play with a Constitution score of 2. I would bet however, that the number of players who were excited to do so would be vanishingly small. A very lucky dwarf could potentially begin with a 19, but it's unlikely even a dwarf player would use an 18 for this purpose, since dwarves are generally restricted to being Fighters, Clerics, and Thieves. A Fighter would want that 18 in Strength to take advantage of exceptional strength, Clerics would want to put that into Wisdom to take advantage of bonus spells. Thieves in turn would want to place it in Dexterity to maximize their thief abilities.

Only an extremely lucky dwarf with two 18s would bother putting an 18 into Constitution, and even then, it would benefit Fighters the most (dwarves have a racial bonus to Poison saves, and there's no difference between an 18 and 19 for them where the bonus is concerned). The biggest advantage to a dwarf Fighter with 19 Constitution is the +5 bonus to hit points.

Finally, there's Regeneration, which is certainly a neat ability for those who have sufficiently high Constitution, but again, this is outside the grasp of beginning characters, thus encouraging them to find ways to attain these coveted heights.

High Constitution and Warriors

Let's delve into math once more. The only Constitution scores that are important for hit points are 15-19 for beginning characters. Nothing beyond 16 is worth having (hit points wise) for non-warrior PCs. Every single score of 16 or greater only provides a +2 bonus to HP for those classes.

Priests would have a range of 3-10, with an average of 6.5; a 44% increase.
Rogues would have a range of 3-8, with an average of 5.5; a 57% increase.
Mages would have a range of 3-6, with an average of 4.5; an 80% increase.

Warriors on the other hand, stand to benefit from scores of 17-19. 17 provides a +3 bonus, 18 provides a +4, and 19 provides a +5.

A half-elf Ranger with a 17 Constitution would have a range of 4-13, with an average of 8.5; a 55% increase.
A human Paladin with an 18 Constitution would have a range of 5-14, with an average of 9.5; a 72% increase.
A dwarf Fighter with a 19 Constitution would have a range of 6-15, with an average of 10.5; a 91% increase.

Given that it's fairly unlikely that that one will roll an 18, and that the average roll for 4d6 drop the lowest produces a high score of 16, very, very few characters are going be getting the high Constitution hit point bonuses, and only a dwarf Fighter would get the +3 for having a 17. The curve for the scores just feels underwhelming as a result, and encourages that upward dash for high scores so that one can take advantage of the vastly inflated bonuses.

But, Constitution is only particularly important for warriors, and other classes just don't draw the same benefit, so any more than 16 is a waste. However, there are multiclass and dual-class characters to consider, though the high ability scores necessary to qualify for them would make it unlikely that one would favor Constitution unless it was one of the class's requirements and they were a warrior subclass.

Final Thoughts

As I mentioned before, I find myself bemused by Constitution's unnecessary derived statistics. In an OSR game, I'd probably fold System Shock (were I to use it) into Constitution's standard bonus, and leave it at that. At absolute worst, I would make it a roll-under Constitution score style check. If I were inclined to utilize Resurrection Survival, I'd make it a part of the spells, rather than a function of Constitution. I can understand the notion that warriors should get more of a benefit from Constitution, but ultimately, this can be fixed either by giving warriors a bigger hit die, or by giving them a bonus for their class group. If ability scores are going to be used, I think it behooves the game designer to keep them neat and consistent, and Constitution fails this.

Next time, we'll take a good long gander at Intelligence.

Wednesday, June 21, 2017

The Case Against AD&D - Ability Scores, pt. 3

Chasing Higher Ability Scores

 I mentioned that we'd come back to this, and so it comes to pass. In AD&D 1e, Method I was 4d6, drop the lowest, arrange to taste. It carried into 3rd edition as the standard way of generating characters. In 2e, they provided it as an option, but I wouldn't go so far as to say it was the "default assumption" by the book - though doubtlessly many groups who moved on to 2e after 1e simply used the 1e Method I.

Here's what that looks like on AnyDice. Jasper Flick has a neat little examination of attribute generation using the 4d6, drop the lowest method compared to 3d6 here on AnyDice, and I recommend giving it a look see, particularly for the calculation regarding the chances of seeing a natural 18 out of six rolls.

AD&D emphasizes the importance of high ability scores in three ways that affect the manner in which AD&D is played:
  1. They provide a distinct mechanical advantage in their own right by being heavily more favorable at the high end of the distribution, and even more dramatically beyond that when you take into account scores of 19-25.
  2. They provide access to more powerful races.
  3. They provide access to more powerful classes, which reinforces the numbers chase because after all, if you have big numbers in your ability scores, those ability scores will be put to more effective use with a class that can self-buff, or fly, or advance as a Fighter and a Mage, even opening up the more time intensive but incredibly rewarding dual-classed combo.
So, why exactly is this a bad thing? Well, it's due to the fact that it encourages players to attempt to get the best combination of race and class that their ability scores can provide, and then attempt to climb as quickly as possible to the 18+ range of ability scores because these are more effective means of power than other options (outside of spellcasting, which has always been extremely powerful and flexible).

Let's take a look at 18/00 Strength versus the Fighter's weapon specialization ability (note that we're just using the PHB, not any of the grandmastery stuff from later books):

A Fighter specializing in say, the longsword, would be getting a +1 attack adjustment and +2 damage adjustment. Let's just assume for a moment, that he has the "average" roll for 4d6 listed on Jasper's article above, so he has a 16 Strength, which provides him a damage adjustment of +1, but no attack adjustment.

That's a +1 attack adjustment, and +3 damage adjustment. Not a bad character by any stretch of the imagination.

But let's compare him to the very, very lucky Paladin with 18/00 Strength. Non-Fighters don't have the ability to specialize, but Paladins are warriors, so they get to take advantage of the exceptional Strength values. Our Fortunate Paladin is sitting pretty at the best Strength score that can be rolled.

So what are his attack and damage adjustments? +3 and +6, respectively. It's a pretty significant difference, since his base damage is double, and his attack adjustment is more than that.

Fortunately, Fighters also get an enhanced number of attacks for specialization, but it's not as as awesome as it may sound:

Our Longsword Specialist can make three attacks every two rounds (so two attacks in the first round, one attack in the second round, or one attack the first round and two in the second). Conversely, our Fortunate Paladin can only make a single attack each round. Let's assume that they both are using longswords.

The Longsword Specialist does an average of 7.5 damage per attack, and has a THAC0 of 19. The Fortunate Paladin does an average of 10.5 damage per attack and has a THAC0 of 17. Ignoring their THAC0 (let's assume they hit with every one of their attacks), the average total damage of the Longsword Specialist is going to be 22.5 over two rounds, whereas the Fortunate Paladin's is going to be 21. He's only a point and a half behind our specialist.

Assuming we choose not to ignore their THAC0s, the Fortunate Paladin is going to hit more often, thus outpacing our Longsword Specialist. If the Longsword Specialist misses even a single hit out of his three, his damage is going to drop to 15 over two rounds.

Even on critical hits, assuming that optional rule is in play, our Longsword Specialist is getting the short end of the stick. He'll do 12 damage on average (in AD&D 2e, you double the damage dice, but not adjustments to damage from Strength, specialization, or magical enhancement). The Paladin is going to do 15. Having more attacks is only ever so slightly better than just raw Strength.

Furthermore, that's basically the only combat relevant ability the Fighter gets, and it barely allows him to out damage a Paladin with superior Strength. Paladins get an assortment of other powers like enhanced saving throws, immunity to disease, healing powers, a protection aura, and at later levels, a warhorse, turn undead, and priest spells. Fighters get unlimited magic item ownership, can hoard their wealth, build a castle, hire whomever they want, and level slightly faster.

Granted, 18/00 Strength is not something the Paladin or Fighter is likely to obtain. The average roll on 4d6, drop the lowest won't even allow you to qualify for the Paladin class, since you need a 17 Charisma just to be one. But, if you can qualify, and have a 18/00 Strength score, Paladin is by far the more attractive class (mechanically speaking).

And?

Ultimately, both your Fighter and your Paladin are going to be shooting for the highest Strength score they can manage. If our Longsword Specialist had 18/00 Strength, he'd be cruising through dungeon corridors at the brisk pace of the puree setting. THAC0 of 16, average damage of 37.5 over two rounds. The only thing stopping him is that HP inconvenience. And as he levels and finds more gear, he's only only going to get stronger. And gods help his enemies if he manages to get some wishes, or a Manual of Gainful Exercise somewhere. But the Paladin is no slouch either, and while he may not be able to out damage a Fighter who obtains the coveted 18/00 Strength score, there's nothing stopping him from benefiting from wishes or the Manual. Arguably, the Paladin is going to be more flexible once he obtains spells, but that's getting into fairly high levels, even for 2e.

AD&D 2e's emphasis on high ability scores being leaps and bounds better than low ability scores creates something of a problem, where a lucky set of rolls can make the difference between competent mediocrity and nigh unstoppable juggernauts.

Take Basic Fantasy RPG for instance, where the highest ability score is 18, and the highest modifier is +3 (assuming you're not using a race that bumps it up to +4). A character with no modifier is going to do an average of 4.5 damage with a longsword. A character with an 18 will do 7.5. A particularly strong race will do 8.5. It's a little much for my tastes (I think the -2 to +2 range for ability scores is better), but it's not nearly as drastic as the difference between a 10 Strength Fighter and an 18/00 Strength Fighter in AD&D 2e (4.5 damage vs. 10.5; 6.5 vs. 12.5 if they're specialists).

Compound this with multiple attacks, magic items, and the number of wishes necessary to reach superhuman (19) Strength. Assuming he starts at 18/00, a warrior character could use the Manual of Gainful Exercise once, or 10 wishes. A Fighter who started with 16 Strength would need 20 wishes, and one use of the Manual.

Power Gamers, Optimizers, Build Enthusiasts, and
Munchkins

And this is where I have to take a moment to talk about the types of players who care about this sort of thing. Most players will take what they can get, have a good time, and try to roleplay their character as well as they can in the situations they find them in.

Munchkins, Power Gamers, Optimizers, and Build Enthusiasts on the other hand approach the game differently.

Power Gamers are not bad players by default. They just like winning, and winning means making their character as strong as possible, and never turning down an opportunity to get stronger. This is a completely valid way to play so long as the player doesn't step on the other party members to reach the heights of demigodhood. They can, in fact, be great players who help the entire party realize their potential.

Optimizers are not actually looking to make the most powerful character on the table or in the world. They care about making their character as effective as possible given the options open to them, and most of this optimization is done before play starts. They tend to plan their character's advancement far into the future, even if they never get there, because they enjoy playing around with the character numbers. Optimizers and Power Gamers are similar types of players, but Optimizers don't tend to focus on acquisition of power during play - they just try to squeeze every ounce of performance out of whatever they started with, and whatever they have on hand.

Build Enthusiasts may or may not be interested in actually optimizing their character, power gaming, or engaging in munchkinism, but they do like to explore the options and build characters to accomplish specific (sometimes broken) things. There's nothing wrong with this, and they may just use it as a thought exercise, rather than putting it into play. If they do put it into play, then they're either an Optimizer or a Power Gamer.

However, there's a fourth variety of player who is supremely disruptive to play, and AD&D 2e's focus on ability scores enables their behavior. Most roleplayers have encountered a Munchkin, even if they don't realize it. They probably call themselves an optimizer or build enthusiast, and may even go so far as to consider themselves power gamers, but the difference is that they don't care about cooperating with the party. They want to be as powerful as they can so that they can do whatever they want in the game world with as few consequences they can't overcome through raw numbers as possible. These players are generally argumentative and tend toward being rules lawyers (a rules lawyer is not a player who remembers a rule differently than the DM - they're a player who argues for favorable interpretations of a rule when it applies to them or the party, but argues for unfavorable interpretations of the same rule when applied to enemies).

Worse, they will selfishly take actions that work against the party if they feel that there is some gain in it. These are often the same kinds of problem players who hide behind alignments and loudly exclaim "It's what my character would do!" when the rest of the party calls them on their behavior. Most often, this player is the first to get super angry when others frustrate his character's plans and designs, but is also first in line to smirk and say "It's just a game, man" when they do the same to other players. Munchkins don't care about whether or not the other players are having a good time, so long as they themselves are (this usually involves having the biggest numbers in the room).

I have issues with all the mindsets geared toward playing the numbers game. I'm not innocent of it though, but in general, I'm not terribly worried about mechanical optimization, and any game where I have to worry about it more than my character's personality and history is a game I'm not going to have as much fun with. I can however tolerate Power Gamers, Optimizers, and Build Enthusiastis in my own games, but Munchkins have to go. A player who doesn't respect others isn't welcome at my table.

Unfortunately, AD&D 2e  produced a fair number of Munchkins because the rules encouraged that sort of behavior, despite developer injunctions against it. 3rd edition provided refuge for them, where they could be mistaken for Optimizers, Power Gamers, and Build Enthusiasts. When you have classes, races, alignments, and even ability scores dedicated to disruptive behavior, and then put an irresponsible, selfish oaf in the mix, you get disaster unending. It's partly why Thieves, kender, and Chaotic Neutrals are so hated.

We Get It, You Hate Munchkins

Worry not, I have a point that I'm building to. I'm just going to keep examining AD&D 2e and build my case, and then I'll focus on that rather than my rambling evidence gathering that I'm doing now. To be clear, I don't have an issue with characters getting stronger or there being a clear progression toward excellence. My issue is that the climb to paragonhood ends up being the goal, rather than the journey.

Compare BFRPG's ability score table to the two (and the future scores we'll look at) we've seen so far. Not only is the range of scores slightly more forgiving in the middle range, but it also doesn't ramp up as sharply when it approaches the higher end of the range. More importantly, it's consistent across all six ability scores, and it caps out at the highest natural roll, meaning that there is no reason to seek greater ability scores.

Hopefully you can see what I'm getting at. Stay tuned for further updates.

Monday, June 19, 2017

The Case Against AD&D - Ability Scores, pt. 2

God Stats?

It's slightly unfair to call Dexterity a god stat in AD&D, but only because it doesn't work like 5e's does where it adds to ranged weapon damage, which led to a situation in which Carlos managed to take out an entire encounter by himself by climbing a tree and playing Robin Hood. It's still a universally good ability score, and you'll want it to be as high as possible whether your wearing no armor, or wearing full plate.

Thankfully, unlike other editions, it does not add to saving throws or damage, so it's at least slightly more reasonable in that regard. But like all AD&D ability scores, it scales oddly and sharply at the extreme high end of the distribution, compounding the problem of AD&D's general policy of having ability scores define what characters can do rather than their class. The race to higher and higher ability scores does the game no favors.

A Rundown on Dexterity


There are only three mechanical benefits to Dexterity (aside from non-weapon proficiencies based on the score and raw Dexterity checks, which always benefit from a high score): Reaction adjustment, missile attack adjustment, and defensive adjustment.

Reaction adjustment is initiative. It's a useful combat ability that helps your side go first and decide the way in which combat will unfold in following rounds. At 18, it's only a +2, and there's no bizarre "scores within scores" like with Strength.

Missile attack adjustment is AD&D's rather verbose ranged attack modifier. This too is a reasonable +2 at 18 Dexterity, though you have to have a 16 or more to even qualify for a bonus, which empowers that "high scores or bust" mentality of munchkins, power gamers, optimizers, and builds enthusiasts. Only one of the play styles is terrible (munchkins), but each comes with their own attendant problems that are directly being influenced by how the game itself is built.

We'll come back to this, but just keep it in mind for now.

Defensive adjustment is the modifier to your AC. Because not everyone is familiar with how AC works in older editions, I think I'd better take a moment to explain.

Armor Class in older editions uses descending numbers to represent improved armor class, so a negative number on the chart is actually a good thing, because in this case, lower is better. I've written a up concise explanation of THAC0 since it's something I've had to explain a lot over the years, and it's actually much simpler than most would have you believe:

In any case, an 18 provides a very generous -4 adjustment to AC, which is as good as wearing brigandine, scale, or hide armor. If one had chain armor, they'd be comfortably sitting at AC 0, with the option to drop it to -1 with a shield.

Moving On

Dexterity is less insane than Strength, and is one of the more reasonable ability scores, but it still has that nagging problem of how it scales as it runs toward the high end of the natural distribution, and how it ramps up beyond that. My next post is going to discuss this feature of the system in more detail, so keep an eye out.

Saturday, June 17, 2017

The Case Against AD&D - Ability Scores, pt. 1

I've done my fair share of bashing 3rd edition, but I think it's time I took a look at Advanced Dungeons & Dragons. This isn't an attempt to be "fair" to 3rd edition - AD&D (1e and 2e) are far more interesting to talk about, and next to my 3rd edition collection, it's the largest amount of Dungeons & Dragons related material I have in my library.

Ability Score Insanity

In 0e and Basic, ability scores range from 1-18, and have (depending on edition) a modifier range of -1 to +1, to -2 to +2, or -3 to +3. This modifier only alters a few things, which are easily written down or remembered. Strength modifies opening doors and melee attack and damage rolls. Constitution modifies HP and Poison saves. Dexterity modifies armor class and ranged attack rolls, etc.

AD&D notes this simple and easily remembered mechanic, and chucks it out the window. And I can't for the life of me understand why. I can (somewhat) understand the use of the 1-25 range for ability scores, but not the needlessly complex way ability scores work. Of particular note is the Strength ability score, because it behaves in a way none of the others do.

A Rundown on Strength

Perusing my AD&D 2e PHB, I see that it has hit probability adjustment (attack rolls), damage adjustment, weight allowance (encumbrance), max press, open doors, and bend bars/lift gates as mechanical aspects of the game that strength modifies. All of this stuff has to be made to fit on a character sheet, and there's enough discrete things that you're unlikely to have memorized it, so that'll necessitate looking up the chart every time Strength gets modified somehow.

Hit probability and damage adjustment do not use the same number. At 18 Strength, hit probability is +1 and damage adjust is +2. Just bizarre stuff. Because these two numbers are different and progress at different rates, it'll be somewhat difficult to remember them off the cuff (though, admittedly, there's very little need to memorize anything other than your own score unless you're trying to figure out an enemy's hit/damage potential).

Weight allowance is more or less going to be a similar function of strength in various RPGs, and I don't feel the need to comment more on it aside from say that it's the least interesting way to account for encumbrance.

Max press is a mostly unnecessary number that feels somewhat arbitrary. I'm not even certain of how useful such a number would be in a dungeon delving game, since what you can lift over your head isn't likely to come up very often. If a fellow PC needs to climb onto your shoulders so they can see over a wall, you aren't lifting them. A player trapped under fallen rubble (or some other heavy thing) might need a strong person to lift said object so that they can be dragged free, but it's unlikely that you'd need to know whether or not your PC can lift said rubble over their head. Currently, my only idea for this is carrying your gear over your head (or balanced on your head) while wading armpit deep in water either in order to ford a shallow river afoot, or to traverse water underground.

Perhaps I'm just having a failure of imagination, but it seems to me that the max press score is unhelpful, really. It's just another thing to write down that may one time be relevant in a specific circumstance that will never come up again. As an aside, the "max press" is an overhead press, not a bench press as my old group told me (a claim not unique to them).

Open doors is fairly straightforward, until it reaches 18/91-99 Strength and adds extra information like the chance to open locked, barred, or magically held doors. I'm not against having a chance to open more difficult doors, but wouldn't it have made more sense to have a penalty for opening those kinds of doors? I'd imagine a locked door is easier to get into than a barred door (I've kicked in a door or two in my time), and a magically sealed door seems like a much more serious obstacle for a non-magical type character than a barred door. So, stuck doors would use the standard progression, locked doors would be say, -2, barred doors would be -6, and magically held doors -10. This would mean that a human with 10 Strength would have a 4 in 20 chance to open a locked door through brute force (a bit low in my opinion), and be unable to open barred doors or magically held doors through muscle alone. As it stands now, you have to have 18/91-99 Strength to have a meager 3 in 20 chance to open locked, barred, or held doors. Seems silly.

Bend bars/lift gates is a statistic meant to simulate great feats of strength, but bizarrely uses percentile dice to accomplish this. Non-fighters (I'll come back to this) with 18 Strength have a flat 16% chance to succeed, and it will never improve without magic. DMs are arbiters of the rules, and it would probably be fair to improve a PC's chances of accomplishing these feats of strength if they have pry bars or other tools... but then, I'm not really sure what the point of this statistic is if the players use tools and sense to overcome the challenge rather than brute strength. As well, if max press is a thing, wouldn't gates have an "effective weight" that can be compared to the PC's max press to determine whether or not they can lift it?

I'm not wholly opposed to a "mythic feat of strength" type deal for martial characters, but I don't think it should be part of the raw Strength score everyone gets in D&D. Additionally, there's the issue that it doesn't work the same way the rest of the Strength subsystem mechanics do.

Exceptional Complexity

Unlike the other ability scores, Strength has a sub-ability score that only "warriors" (an ill-defined catch-all term for Fighters, Rangers, and Paladins, multi-class Fighter/Whatevers, and later Barbarians and Gladiators) can benefit from. This "exceptional strength" acts as an additional 5 ability score points that settle in between non-warrior 18 and 19 like some kind of parasite.

I can understand wanting to make warrior-types more effective at their shtick, but putting it here in the Strength ability score means that there's an additional roll for determining Strength, and it complicates raising ability scores on the rare occasion that it happens. Yes, even an 18/01-50 is better than a straight 18 (by +1 damage, the only metric that actually matters), but it seems so damn pointless to have this here rather than give Fighters an "exceptional strength" ability at 1st level that ensures that they always have +1 or +2 to damage over and above anyone else with the same Strength score. Hit probability can be protected by giving Fighters the best damn attack bonus/THAC0 in the game.

It's also incredibly unlikely that a PC will roll 18/00 and get the coveted +3 to-hit, +6 to damage. Depending on ability score generation, they have to snag an 18, and then snag a 00 on 2d10. Those are rough odds. That +6 bothers me too, since it's a very, very large increase to base damage with every weapon, and magic items are going to further enhance this. A Fighter with 18/00 Strength is going to do 8.5 damage on average (7 minimum!) with just a dagger, and using a two-handed sword provides an average of 11.5 damage.

I'm not against subsystems or rules compartmentalization, but I think that AD&D went too far in this direction. There's too much to keep track of when simpler, more concise rules would have been better. The approach taken for Fighter/warrior role protection emphasizes the importance of ability scores over everything, which only means that the warrior-types (like Paladin and Ranger) are going to excel to the detriment of the Fighter. Specialization thus becomes their only refuge from the stronger abilities of the Paladin and Ranger, a refuge my old group stripped from them by allowing any warrior class to do it because it was more "fun".

I don't know if other groups resorted to that, but it made the Fighter a poor second to any other warrior class or multi-class Fighter. Since I'm drifting off topic now, I think I'll say some final words about Strength.

Advancing Strength, and a Conclusion

I wanted to address how advancing ability scores works generally in AD&D. Wishes at a certain point (starting with 16 I believe), only advance ability scores by a 10th of a point per application, so for a non-fighter to get 19 Strength, they'd need to have a natural 18, and then get 10 applications of wish. They wouldn't get the warrior classes' exceptional Strength, just a regular 18 with a decimal point. This is a RAW reading, though. Some DMs, I'm told, allow exceptional strength, but I personally wouldn't due to it being a benefit that the warrior classes are supposed to receive.

For warrior classes, each decimal point does improve their exceptional strength %. However, it's unclear whether or not a character with 18/00 Strength only needs a single application of wish or needs the full 10.

The fly in the ointment is that manuals such as the Manual of Gainful Exercise directly raises an ability score by a point; in this case, Strength. So, now the DM has to make a ruling: Can a non-warrior go from 18 to 19, skipping past the exceptional strength bits, or are they going to force the player to take decimal increments? Or are they going to count the five exceptional strength scores as valid ability score points between 18 and 19, but without the warrior benefits?

And what about the warriors anyhow? Do they go straight to 19 whether they have an 18/01 or an 18/00?

This hasn't even touched the insanity of having rolled an 18, playing a race with a Strength adjustment (like a half-orc) or the adjustments for age. Do they improve the score by a decimal, like a wish? Do they improve the score directly, like a manual? Do they do nothing at first level because of racial maximums? What about warriors and exceptional strength?

There's too much going on with the Strength ability score, and that'll become more apparent as this series goes on and addresses the other ability scores. When I've gotten through all six, I'll compare an OSR character sheet to an AD&D 2e one. It'll clearly demonstrate my ultimate point to all this. Until then, here's to hoping I post more regularly than I have of late.

Tuesday, February 28, 2017

A World of Darkness and its Dirty Secrets

Be warned, this is probably going to be a long, introspective post and may not be to everyone's tastes.

My group of late has been very interested in the Classic World of Darkness, and specifically in Vampire. As a result, I've been reading through my old chronicle notes, and the various Vampire supplements I own in an attempt to wring something of quality from the whole mess.

And it is a mess. Both my notes and cWoD. For the part of my notes, you have to go back to the beginning. Back to the first time I stumbled into the position of Storyteller, having no more knowledge of the World of Darkness than what I could glean from borrowed core books and the Werewolf the Apocalypse (Revised) book I'd gotten as a 15th birthday present.

Despite not favoring the thrust of Werewolf's politics, I still adore it. There's something about the fury, the savagery, the doomed nobility, and the tragic struggles of the ill-made heroes that speaks to me, beyond the eco-terrorist, gynocentric, civilization bashing stupidity of it all. But I'm not here to talk about that, and it's going to get me off track if I let it.

My first true attempt to run my own campaign or chronicle was after our original Storyteller joined the Army, as I've mentioned before. The first time I'd run a game was for Vampire, but I hadn't done a very good job, didn't really understand what it was I needed to do, and ultimately the original ST stepped in and basically took the reigns from me in a manner that was very uncool of him in retrospect.

Speaking of retrospects, my first chronicle wasn't very good either. It was a train wreck of inexperience, spinelessness, and poor writing. Inexperience is to be expected. The poor writing was the teething period of a creative mind without much practice and a lot of investing too much of himself into the narrative and characters. A sin I no longer indulge as often nor quite so deeply.

The spinelessness was the largest problem, however. I was fifteen. Caught in the tumultuous shoals of hormonal biological change and the fumbling in the dark that is finding an identity and peers among the chaotic press that was the larger pool of young people experiencing some of the same things I was. I'm not proud of who I was then. The things you say and do when you have neither the clarity of adulthood (and its attendant evening of the hormonal and emotional keels), nor the wisdom of bitter experience...

Regardless, this isn't to wallow in self-pity or to flagellate myself for an audience. Even at my best, I'm not very good at socializing. Breaking the ice is hideously difficult for me, and small talk falls from my lips with all the elegance of a flatulent and inebriated Deacon during the Sunday sermon. Now imagine me as a gangling teenager unhappy with his home life and a tendency to fly off the handle at the slightest provocation.

Like all teenagers, I wanted to fit in somewhere, but it was not my lot. I wasn't handsome. I wasn't athletic. I wasn't academically gifted. I wasn't wealthy. I had (and still have) crooked teeth. I needed glasses and didn't know it. So, when I found roleplaying games and people to play it with, naturally, I was relieved. I had found a circle of people like me, weirdos, outcasts, socially inept people I could bond with. And I clung to that. Probably with more passion than I should have. Because people change.

So, you can imagine that I really, really, wanted to impress my newfound friends and I didn't want them to be angry with me or ostracize me. So, when it came time to take up the reigns of Vampire, I fucked up. Badly. I let them walk all over me, without realizing it. And one of the primary culprits was my oldest friend.

When our old ST left, he gave his campaign notes to one of our players, likely expecting that they either wouldn't be read, or that this person would be a good steward and take up the reigns of the chronicle where it had been left off. As it turned out, those notes proved extremely troublesome. Troublesome because they revealed the background and true scope of power that one of the characters in the chronicle, played by my oldest friend, was supposed to have. He'd taken the Amnesia flaw, likely to min-max and get as many points as possible without having to think about who his character was, and so our ST had filled in the blanks.

What came of this was munchkinry of the third degree. As I learned later from the ST in question, he'd done a lot of research at the library and had made the player's Ravnos vampire a Russian prince from around the time of the Mongol invasion. I don't now recall all the details, but this character had been a vampire of quite low generation and had a number of powers he didn't realize that he had. Worse, at some point during the chronicle, the player in question had had the opportunity to diablerize a powerful, slumbering ancient Cainite.

Instead of keeping the notes secret, the person they were entrusted to let my oldest friend read them. And thus Spade, the Monster was born. I have a feeling that my friend's obsession with the name Spade comes from the rather stringent character limits for names in the original Final Fantasy games, combined with a general interest with card games, the X-Man Gambit, and just being a dash uncreative. Many, many roleplaying characters have been named Spade, but this particular Spade was a 3rd generation vampire of the Ravnos clan.

That's right. That's not a mistake. He was 3rd generation. Somehow. The Assamites have a ritual that allows them to lower their generation by one once they've accumulated enough lower generation vitae. Diablerie also lowers generation by one (though there's a variant rule that is less stringent where you come out somewhere between your original generation and your victim's - and then there's all the evidence in canon that you instead shift to the generation of the vampire you diablerized...).

I'm not 100% certain how the hell any of this occurred, since I wasn't a regular at the time it happened, but I do remember a session where my Ventrue was strapped to one of our old ST's GMPC Mage's front and carried to the top of a skyscraper via jetpack, where they anchored down and two (three?) characters with magically enhanced sniper rifles shot an old and powerful Methuselah vampire from the top of another building.

My Ventrue was just along for the ride. You could say that about the Gangrel I'd made before that too.

So, Spade the Unconquerable came to my humble Dark Age city in Germany, and proceeded to be the most powerful being who could cure Final Death, lay waste to armies, and go toe to toe with Set himself. All of it merely an inconvenience, a slight bump on the road.

That was not the only time he got a free pass to be a completely boring badass whom nothing could challenge, but it was the most egregious.

And the worst part of it is, is that it could have been solved with a single word.

No.

But, when you're a teenager who desperately doesn't want to upset the apple cart of friendship, no doesn't come easily. When you're older, wiser, you know you can say no. Have an obligation to say no, in many cases. Saying no is sometimes the most important thing you'll ever do. Because yes can lead to misery and damnation as equally as it can to bliss and joy.

So ultimately, it's my own fault that my oldest friend ran rampant through my campaigns and chronicles with extremely powerful characters who had no business being there in the first place. And let that be a lesson to anyone all too willing to say yes. It's a fine sentiment to want to allow everyone to have a good time, and let them play whatever they want, because it's just a game, right? Except, that when someone does what my oldest friend did, they're taking advantage of you. And they know it. This isn't simply a "my Storyteller is permissive, so I'll pick something rare and different so I can be a special snowflake" it's a "my Storyteller is a fucking idiot, and I'm taking him for all he's worth" situation.

And it's on you if you allow it to happen.

As a result, my notes are a mishmash from a decade of crossovers with super powered monstrosities. Our games were very much just anti-heroes with superpowers, and well... It's not really what I want out of all this. If my current group is serious about playing the Classic World of Darkness, there's a few things we need to agree on, and they're mostly theme and tone, since on the mechanical side of the house, I'm going to be strict with the rules, and probably strict with my rulings too.

The theme really should be something along the lines of either The Slow Descent or The Long War (maybe a mix of both). The Slow Descent should be about action and consequence, and what makes one human, and the struggle to retain that humanity in the face of perverse and alien need. The Long War is something I've always wanted to deal with. At its core, it's the Jyhad. The struggle of the various factions against each other, but specifically the Elders vs. their childer, and perhaps the Antediluvians against all.

But, roleplaying games are unique in that they're a shared experience, and if my current group wants to play anti-heroes with superpowers, then I'll go along with it. Our previous conversations lead me to believe they're serious about exploring Vampire the Masquerade as it was intended though. I happen to agree with Carlos when he says that he dislikes that Flaws grant character building points, but it's the nature of the ill-conceived beast, since VtM is the granddaddy of anti-D&D games (by which I mean, explicitly designed to not be like D&D).

However, an extra seven points will make little difference in the long haul. It's enough to get one extra level of a discipline. At most, that's a single discipline with up to four points in it. Which is a bad investment, since you are required to find a teacher for new disciplines.

As I mentioned, my notes are a mess. They're a mess because of all the stuff I've mentioned, and also due to the insane dilution that crossovers cause. As a result I'm inclined to rewrite 90% of them. Which means that VtM isn't going to happen soon. But, this is also a good thing because it allows everyone to make a character they want to play, and figure out who this person was before they were born to darkness.

There's a sourcebook that gets a lot of hate (metric tons of it): Dirty Secrets of the Black Hand. I'd say most of it is deserved. It's got some real stinkers in it. Between the terrible Old Clan Tzimisce, and the Souleaters/Vicissitude thing, one might be inclined to throw the whole thing out. But, there's a little text box that explains that the book exists mostly to flesh out possibilities. The World of Darkness is not a concrete thing. None of the books is canon, aside from maybe the information thinly sketched out in the core books. And even that is suspect, since vampires are deceitful by nature. That same text box encourages the Storyteller to make up their own Truth, and that's something I've kept in mind ever since I got the book.

What is the Truth? I'm not telling. It's for my players to discover. But like the X-files was wont to say "Trust no one."

But also, "The Truth is out there."