Showing posts with label rules. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rules. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 3, 2019

Random Encounters II

Or are there dungeons in your dungeons and dragons?


I thought I might go ahead and follow up my initial foray into random encounter design with some thoughts on dungeon encounters, and how you might go about stocking the dungeon and creating some factions. Let's imagine that the map the bandit leader had in my earlier example leads to a collapsed temple, and inside the temple are several tribes of goblins, loosely allied, engaged in a genocidal war with several tribes of allied squirrel men.

This is going to give my players a bit of a peak behind the curtain and they definitely should ignore the man behind it, or else! But, squirrel men are just goblins. Well, statistically they're goblins, with two added abilities: they can climb just about anything that isn't a shear surface using normal movement, and they can glide short distances with their patagia. And they're less likely to use metal weapons (they can't make them). The gliding bit may never come up - it didn't when my players encountered them, and the reptiloids they allied with helped the group turn the squirrel men in squirrel pelts, so those particular squirrel men's gliding days are over. But, let's take a look at the Goblin entry from the Rules Cyclopedia:


Goblins. Can't live with 'em, but you can kill 'em and take their stuff.

Under the statistic 'No. Appearing' it has two values: 2d8 (6d10). The dice outside the parentheses indicates the average number for dungeon rooms, and the other is for when encountering a party in the wilderness. So, using an average of 4.5 for a d8, the average number of goblins encountered in a given room in a dungeon is 9, and the average war party encountered in the wilderness (using 5.5 for d10s) is 33. This then, is an excellent starting point for determining the size of our goblin tribes, and when we make our random encounter table, we already know how large a patrol might be. You could instead use the AD&D 1e numbers, but it ranges from 40-400 for wilderness encounters, which I think is perhaps a tad large. There aren't guidelines in the 1e Monster Manual for stocking dungeons, so my advice is stick with 40, since there's clear guidelines for what the goblins will have for every 40 members.

I also happen to have B/X Essentials, a retroclone meant to clearly and concisely replicate Moldvay & Cook's version of Basic and Expert, in which the numbers are 2d4 and 6d10. This makes the patrols smaller, being on average 5 strong rather than 9.

Either way, let's stick to the RC goblins.

I'm going to set our factions to two allied tribes for each side, plus a group of hobgoblins who could be convinced (or coerced) to either side. Using an online dice roller of dubious merit, I've rolled 42, 34, 42, and 27. For the hobgoblin mercenaries hiding out from the authorities, there are 11 (from 4d6).

Just to give our example here some spice, I'll lay out some areas for our imaginary ruined temple:

  • The two goblin tribes are the Smackjaw and Yellow Spot clans and they have encamped in what was a temple wardrobe (the cultists were a tad theatrical). They've recently cemented an alliance between their two tribes by marrying the Yellow Spot tribe's "princess" to the Smackjaw tribe's "king". The Smackjaw's have 42 warriors (not including the king and his bodyguards), and the Yellow Spot's have 34. They don't exactly fight well together, as their chains of command have not yet synchronized, so their morale is 1 lower than normal.
  • The Grey Pelt squirrel men have taken over the altar room, which has high ceilings. They live among the rafters and climb up and glide down as the need or whim takes them. They're in a looser alliance with the other tribe, and do not as yet fight or train together, but each will aid the other if attacked. Both tribes of squirrel men ride large saber toothed squirrels into battle (use the same statistics as the "large wolves" that the goblins ride, but make allowances for climbing). The Grey Pelt are least numerous of the two tribes (27 warriors).
  • The Streaked Pelt tribe lives in the sunken store rooms. They've knocked out the floors and built platforms from discarded wood and ropes they've made themselves. The Streaked Pelt tribe has an especial hatred of the goblins, since the tribe matriarch's children were ambushed and then skinned to make the bridal furs. The Streaked Pelt tribe boasts 42 warriors.
  • The hobgoblins are the Iron Hounds, a once numerous mercenary band reduced to eleven. They are led by a thoul (a special type of hobgoblin that has regeneration and a paralyzing touch) named Castrahza. Castrahza is feared and respected in a large part due to her resiliency and supernatural powers, but she isn't a fool either, and that counts for a lot. The Iron Hounds can be hired by the PCs (their asking price is 1,000 gp, but they may work for less if the PCs know they're on the run, or if offered shares of treasure - they will work for plunder as well, but the referee should note that in this case, they strip anything they find from the lair of the faction they're sicced on, and won't give up their booty short of battle). The mercenaries have secured the armory that once served the temple guards.
  • The temple is filled with idols and bas reliefs showing a golden beetle with three scythe like horns and large mandibles. Inscriptions in a dead language (if using the Lamentations of the Flame Princess system for languages, it would be -2 on 1d6) call it the World Maker, and also the Horned Destroyer. The reliefs showing the Horned Destroyer aspect typically include tiny human figures fleeing from the beast as it blasts walled towns to smithereens with some kind of ray from the posterior of its carapace.
On to our encounter table. Let's make just 12 entries, with a mix of encounters between our factions and some other wandering monsters that may be lurking in the temple:

  1. The temple shifts or trembles, dust and small debris falling from the ceiling. Roll 1d4 each time this result comes up. 1-3, nothing untoward occurs. On a result of 4, debris from above falls on the PCs, doing 1d6 points of damage to all who fail a save vs. paralysis. Successful saves halve the damage (anyone wearing a helmet automatically saves).
  2. 1d6 fire beetles
  3. 1d6 orcs (these orcs do not have a faction per se, but are coming into the temple from a cave system deeper in the earth - the referee could follow up this adventure with some spelunking, if desired)
  4. Patrol of 2d8 Yellow Spot goblins. They are armed with spears, short bows, and wear leather armor. If the referee needs to invent a name for individual goblins (because the reaction roll indicates friendliness, or some other reason), Yellow Spot goblins have names like Yeek, Mreek, Kreek, etc.
  5. Patrol of 2d8 Smackjaw goblins. They are armed with swords, light crossbows, and wear chain. Should the referee need to invent a name for individual goblins, Smackjaw goblins have names like Brob, Lob, Nob, etc.
  6. Battle
  7. Battle
  8. A patrol of 2d8 Grey Pelt squirrel men. They are armed with clubs and slings. If occasion warrants, Grey Pelt tribal names resemble Nyahtoo, Toothut, Weetee, etc.
  9. A patrol of 2d8 Streaked Pelt squirrel men. They are armed with spears and javelins (one javelin each). If the situation deems it necessary, Streaked Pelt names are similar to Lofteb, Kafohd, Gufflot, etc.
  10. 1d6 bandits (these outlaws have come into the temple from outside, intent on plundering the ruin - the referee can decide if they are aligned with the outlaws in hex 1x1; note, they may be a source of replacement PCs and/or hirelings)
  11. 1d3 zombies wearing the tattered remains of cult vestments; some may have golden beetle necklaces worth 10 gp (2 in 6 chance)
  12. An echoing sound like many legs and the scraping of something hard against stone. Do not read the following:  A creature from the depths beneath the temple stirs, and is in search of prey. Make note of this each time it comes up, and mention that the sound seems louder each time. After the 3rd time it is rolled, the players will encounter a battlefield strewn with dead goblins and dead squirrel men - many of them sliced in half (none of the bodies are whole, and the amount of blood implies that there were many more). On the 5th result, they see a green glowing apparition undulating toward them. Once in range of the party's light, they will see a pale, many legged beast whose golden head is armed with scything mandibles of a slightly darker hue. It fills the passage way (it can squeeze itself into tunnels 10' wide but not below this), and has a combat speed of 100'. It is impervious to non-magical weapons, has 10 hit dice, deals 2d6 points of damage with its mandibles (its only weapon), and regenerates 3 hp per round (it cannot die, even if reduced to zero hp or below unless the referee rules otherwise. Under normal circumstances, if reduced to 0 hp or below, the creature ceases activity for 24 hours as it regenerates its damaged body).*
 *As a side note, the referee may want to decide how many HD it has consumed. The simplest way is to roll d%-6. Once the beast has consumed 100 hit dice, it will pupate, a process lasting for one month. Afterward, it burrows its way out of the sunken temple and emerges as a gigantic golden beetle (you may invent the statistics, or use the Tarrasque as a blueprint - instead of fire breath it blasts foes with chemical artillery from a chamber at the aft end of its abdomen, this has a 180 degree field of fire). It also has a fly speed of 30 miles per hour (3 miles per turn, 2,640 ft. per round).

If the referee really wants to be sadistic, the Horned Destroyer can make a terrible cacophony through stridulation (rubbing parts of its carapace together). Anyone within 10 miles of the horrid thing is stricken permanently deaf. Those within 100 miles are effectively deaf (no other sounds can be made out over the noise), and the sound can be heard from as far away as 1,000 miles. It does this to attract a mate. And will do so until it either successfully finds a partner, or is slain. If it successfully mates, both Horned Destroyers die in 1d4 days - but not before the female lays a clutch of a dozen cow-sized eggs somewhere in the campaign world, beginning the cycle over again.

Now that we have our encounter table, we can see that its got a mix of possible friendly and possible hostile encounters, a slower burning threat (with an apocalyptic payoff), and a nuisance. I could perhaps spice up the other encounters, but I think I'll leave them as is, since occasionally, it's nice to make something up on the fly (the orcs could be friendly, or they could be blind albino cannibals like the cave dwellers in The Descent).

Something else to consider: Most dungeons are going to have multiple levels (as imagined, this one would), and each level likely needs its own encounter table. In general, dungeon depth is proportional to the threats on the encounter tables, but this doesn't always have to be so. Personally, if I were actually making the temple as a dungeon, I would probably  take the larva off the table and make it trigger off of something the PCs messed with. I just wanted to throw something cool on the table, since we're using it as an example. Encounter tables should have a mix of tougher and weaker monsters. It's okay to have a stronger monster be on the encounter table for a "shallower" level, so long as you make it less likely than the weaker encounters; in the other direction, it's also okay to put weaker monsters on the "deeper" level encounter tables. Not every fight has to be a challenge.

Importantly, our example encounter table takes into account our factions, which leads toward generating the much vaunted and often misapplied story I hear so many RPG blogs, sites, and forum posters talk about. Factions are integral to providing something for players to get involved in (or not) and provides consequence to the player's choices.

I'll save this tangent for another post down the road, but what most call "story" Carlos and I call plot. Story is what happens to the characters as a result of their interactions with the game world (via the exploration, encounter, and reaction mechanics, but most importantly, from player choices). Plot is what happens when the players cooperate and follow the rails that the referee has laid out. I'm not saying plot is bad necessarily, and plot and story can happen in the same game, but there's a level of nuance that is seriously misunderstood. As I said, I'll come back to this.

Hopefully this example will be helpful. I don't claim to have all the answers where encounter tables are concerned, and I definitely think that this one is a good starting point, but it's not the end-all be-all example I would have preferred. I've been trying to write this blog post for three evenings running after work, and I just can't bring myself to pour any more into it than I already have. As with all writing, you reach a point where you have to stop, else you'll never finish it because there's some detail to tweak, or a better phrase, or a position you want to elaborate on, etc. So, I'm done. Make a dungeon. Put it in a wilderness. Let your players loose on the world, and hope they aren't devoured by something primordial.

Wednesday, March 6, 2019

Surprise Mid-week Post

I realize it has been some time since I updated. Over the last year or so, I've been working a lot and I've either found myself exhausted and feeling a distinct lack of creativity, or distracted by other obligations. So, I'm taking a free moment to update the blog and address a request from Ezekiel regarding one of the essential mechanics of OSR based games.

Random Encounters


There are three pillars to the way in which B/X D&D (and OSR games based on that framework) is meant to be played: Exploration, combat, and roleplaying. Random encounters interact with all three pillars through a number of mechanics. On the exploration side of things, random encounters are a part of the risk inherent in seeking out the reward (i.e. treasure), since random encounters can (and often do) lead into sticky combat situations where characters and, occasionally, entire parties end up perishing. Such as what happened when we set fire to an altar room to keep warrior women from murdering us through a secret passage - after having spiked the main door shut to keep them from coming in that way. We were not successful in putting out the fire, which spread, predictably, and we could not find the mechanism that operated the secret door in time before we succumbed to the smoke and flame.

It wasn't our best day.

Combat is a deterrent, when you get right down to it. If there aren't safe resting locations, and there isn't sufficient magic to keep restoring hit points, then you've got a rapidly depleting resource, and you really don't want to get into fights if you can avoid it. Fights don't have to be immediately deadly either, just enough to whittle the HP of the party down to the point where any more fights start to look downright unpleasant.

There's a brilliant mechanic that often gets forgotten (especially when someone drags out the "D&D is just a combat game" straw man) that potentially bypasses combat altogether, and leads straight into the roleplaying that characterizes the entire genre. I think reaction rolls might be my favorite part of older versions of D&D, and B/X in particular. It's the missing piece of encounters, random or otherwise, that is lacking from 3rd edition and beyond. See, in 3rd edition, there's no assumption that the reaction roll will happen, it has been relegated to either Charisma checks (in 3.0) or to the Diplomacy skill (in 3.5/PF/Whatever the hell else they're doing now). Charisma checks and Diplomacy are not automatically called for at the outset of an encounter, and thus, encounters are automatically hostile unless the referee says otherwise or the players take it upon themselves to avoid fighting, which, if they're playing as intended, likely won't, because slain monsters = XP.

Reaction rolls are fantastic because they provide an opportunity to shape the way in which the story will go, and the referee can be as surprised as the other players. Peaceful or even neutral encounters can be opportunities to trade, make allies, gain valuable information, and possibly deceive, steal, double-cross, or ambush NPCs. If you're using factions in your dungeons (highly recommended!), then it gives the players an ability to upset the dungeon's status quo, and be caught up in the intrigues between said factions. The best part, is that survivors of the PC's rampages can become allies and enemies in the future, and while in the dungeon, there is a population that can serve as hirelings, retainers and replacement characters.

So, the question is, how to design random encounters? I'm going to admit my own experience is somewhat limited due to the fact that I have mostly been running pre-made adventures for the Basic Fantasy Roleplaying Game and re-skinning them to suit my bizarre tastes. You can find them here, and best of all, they're free. Chris Gonnerman is a saint. Additionally, the print versions are at or very near cost, so they can be a fiscally responsible point of entry. But, because I've been cribbing from other referee's works, I haven't been flexing that particular muscle, and it doesn't help that I've been pretty fatigued by my day job.

But, as always, I have some thoughts based on the modules I do have.

Encounter Tables & Their Kin


My first suggestion, for anyone who is new to making encounter tables, is that they should have a plan in mind. And we'll outline the things you ought to consider here:

  • Location. Is this an encounter table for wilderness areas? A dungeon? An urban area? Frontier? Etc. Consider the space. Urban areas will likely feature humans and demihumans more often than it will feature straight up monsters, but it can depend on what you're going for. A frontier might also feature human encounters, but fewer of them, to reflect that there are fewer people, and animals and monsters will make up the bulk of encounters. Wilderness should feature even fewer humans, if any, and many more monsters.
  • Proportion. Not all encounters need be combats, but since the reaction roll already exists to provide an opportunity to forestall the possibility that all encounters will turn violent, you may consider making one or two encounters non-combative by default, such as a trapper who might be willing to trade supplies or information, guide the PCs, or just share his camp site. Urban encounters are trickier. You could make a bunch of non-combat encounters, or just make potentially hostile encounters less likely. You can do either, or both, as you choose.
  • Substance. Encounters with beings abstractly represent a population that exists in the space that the encounter table is describing. So, if you have wilderness area that your players are exploring, you may want to have thought about the orc tribes in the hills that are supplying the orc warbands roaming the map (and who may or may not be raiding the outlying settlements in the frontier area to the West). These same bands should have a relationship, which can range the gamut from allied to at war. Something that is important to consider though, is how many warbands they can supply, so how many times can the PCs encounter the Black Tooth tribe's warbands before their forces are depleted into irrelevance?
  • Escalation. It isn't necessary for an encounter to immediately begin with opposing parties surprising one another, making reaction rolls, and then either making truce or fighting it out. An encounter can initially be a sighting. The first result could be a glimpse of a Black Tooth warband marching through the forest paths, either returning from a raid or embarking on one. The second result could simply be (depending on the numbers of the band) the orcs jeering and insulting the PCs, possibly throwing things in their general direction. Or, the orcs might try to discover what they want, and what will make the PCs go away as quickly as possible. If the PCs keep encroaching on their territory, or talks break down, the next encounter can turn nastily violent. The same technique can be employed with, say, a dragon. The first encounter could be seeing it flying above the hills to the North. The second encounter, it has a cow or similar large prey animal in its talons and is flying back the other way. The third encounter could feature the mighty beast casually slaying one of the orc warbands. You don't even have to present an opportunity for the PCs to fight the dragon, just dangle the wyrm in front of them and see if they seek it out.
That's all well and good, but what about the nuts and bolts? To start with, don't make a 100 encounter list. It's probably more work than it's worth, and you'll exhaust yourself trying to fill it. There's nothing preventing you from adding new entries to an existing encounter table, or modifying it to suit a new situation or location. I don't think you should make generic tables either, since you can always take a specific table, and scratch out details that don't fit. The best tables are focused and short, with enough detail that they say something about the space they're meant to represent. So, how many entries? My personal leanings are 12 or 20. That way you can quickly roll using either of those two dice and get things resolved. Subtables are fine, but don't make too much more work for yourself if you don't have to.

To that end, let's make an encounter table for the White Drake Hills, a wilderness region with a human frontier to its western edge. Let's say that it spans 6x6 six-mile hexes, and that the western side is "frontier" and the rest is "wilderness". So, the table will reflect that mix, as people are pushing into the wilderness and beginning to tame it. Let's make it a 12 entry table, just to make things easy on me. There are hills to the North, and a scattering of hills, grassland, and forest in the rest of the region. We aren't going to try to "balance" this list against a given level of PCs. It will be up to the PCs to decide whether or not to engage or retreat. Hex locations are length x width of the region, 1x1 being the Northwest most corner and 6x6 being the Southeast most corner.

  1. A green dragon can be seen flying South. It is little more than an emerald glint against the sky, but its silhouette is unmistakable. A second result will feature the dragon flying North, a kicking moose dangling from the beast's raking talons. A third result finds the dragon on the ground, slaughtering one of the orc warbands in the area.
  2. An orc crashes through the underbrush and stumbles into the party's path. The orc is a survivor from the Cloud Face tribe, annihilated in a recent war, and is wounded, possibly feverish, and starving. Assuming the PCs don't kill the orc on sight, roll reaction. Even if hostile, the orc does not try to fight the PCs, but does distrust them. The survivor speaks both the common tongue and the languages of the region's orc tribes. If the PCs decide to be friendly, the orc can act as a guide and interpreter. The orc can be male or female, as the referee chooses, and any age that is appropriate. An aged orc shaman might be an interesting and fearsome guide, but the referee may want to design the orc with an eye toward being a possible PC replacement.
  3. In a forest clearing, there is a lone bull woolly rhinoceros cropping the new spring grass. If he spots the PCs, he will charge at them until they leave, or he loses 1/3 of his hit points (at which point, he quits the field unless pursued).
  4. On the initial result, the PCs spot a warband of 5d6 Black Tooth orcs marching (1-3) West or (4-6) East at some distance. On the second result, another warband spots the PCs and approaches. They send a small group forward under a flag of truce, and try to ascertain what the PCs want in their broken common, using gesture where vocabulary fails them. If the PCs desire free passage, they will need to give the orcs tribute of 500 gp. In return, the orcs will give them a filthy orange banner with an emblem meant to be blackened teeth. If the PCs do not want to pay it, the orcs warn them to leave. Further results: Roll reaction. If neutral or friendly, proceed as above, but keep track. After two more encounters, relations sour and further encounters are hostile. The Black Tooth tribe has 10 warbands of warriors operating in the region (to determine their maximum number of combat forces, roll 5d6 and multiply by ten, removing warbands from that total as the PCs encounter and defeat them).
  5. An amorous pair of hill giants (one male, one female). They are young adults, sneaking away from their tribe (or tribes?) to the South to tryst in the hills and woodlands in the region. They can be variously encountered: 1-4 on 1d6 (In Hills) Laughing and frolicking among the wildflowers adorning the hilltops; (In Forest) Hunting game with their throwing clubs; (In Grassland) Playing games hurling stones as close as they can to a thick post; 5 on 1d6, as above, but having abandoned the previous activity for a loud and vigorous intimacy; 6 on 1d6, both giants are splashing and playing in a large pond, nude, as a prelude to romantic athletics. In any case, the giants, once they spot the PCs, will throw stones and large branches at the PCs until the PCs give them privacy, or, if the PCs persist, the two giants will inflict their frustration on the PCs with clubs and fists.
  6. A trapper and his mule. He is friendly, and has furs to trade for supplies, if the PCs choose. If the PCs are cordial and companionable he will invite them to his camp in hex 3x2, which is a safe place to rest. He gives his name as Eustace, but it may be an alias (the referee is free to rename the trapper). There is fresh water at this location from a natural spring. If this encounter comes up again, ignore it twice. Every third result brings the PCs back into contact with Eustace, and he may be checking his traps, hunting, or have news from the frontier areas.
  7. A band of human and demihuman outlaws 3d6 strong. Roll for surprise. If they get the drop on the PCs, they attack immediately. If surprised by the PCs, the outlaws are encamped and playing at dice. If neither side is surprised, the outlaws approach brazenly. Either way, roll reaction. If friendly, the outlaws will make polite demands for the party to pay their toll of 100 silver. If neutral, the outlaws make the demand for 200 silver at arrow point. If hostile, the outlaws simply demand "Your money or your life!" Defeat sends the survivors fleeing to hex 1x1, where their hideout is located. If the outlaws are encamped when they are encountered, they will instead invite the PCs to play dice, and when the PCs tire of it, follow them and attempt to murder and rob them in the night. There are sixty outlaws living in a crumbling fortress, along with their women and children. The leader is a 3rd level Thief with a map detailing the entrance to a dungeon in hex 5x4. Further encounters deplete the outlaw reserves until they dwindle to half. The next encounter after that results in a band with the leader in command. He offers peace to the PCs, since the outlaws are his responsibility. If the PCs accept, he may offer the map as a goodwill gesture. If they desire, the PCs may resupply at the outlaw hideout, though they may not receive warm welcomes (they have, after all, killed approximately half the men).
  8. A cougar stalks the PCs, surprising on a 1-5 on 1d6. If spotted, it retires. If not, after one hex of travel, it strikes, pouncing on the smallest party member or the last party member in marching order if PCs are of similar size. It then attempts to drag the PC into the forest to kill and eat at its leisure. It fights to keep its prey until it breaks morale (let morale determine how... hungry it is). Further results can be ignored, or non-predatory wildlife at the referee's discretion.
  9. As 4 above with the Black Tooth tribe, except that it is the Thunder Foot tribe instead. The banner they offer is maroon with a green foot and yellow lightning bolts flying from the heel. The Black Tooth and Thunder Foot tribes are mortal enemies, and if the PCs are found to be carrying the other tribe's banner, violence ensues.
  10. A large shadow passes over the party. Searching the sky reveals only a lone eagle riding the thermals. A second result is much the same, but the eagle appears closer, and something seems off about its size. The third result may be a strike if it occurs in either the hills or grasslands hexes - but not the forest hexes, as the giant eagle cannot maneuver in the trees and risks injuring itself. If a strike, the giant eagle attempts to carry off a random PC. If it misses, or the PC frees themselves before they get too high, the eagle will make a second attempt, but will cut its losses if it cannot snatch a PC. Alternatively, if the PCs have pack animals or mounts, the referee may have the giant eagle try for such a target.
  11. A band of bugbear slavers 3d6 strong with 2d4 slaves (human and demihuman) in tow. If friendly, they will offer to buy any captives the PCs might wish to sell, and may sell their slaves to the PCs for a fair price. If neutral, the bugbears will attempt diplomacy, potentially leading to the offer to buy captives, and sell slaves. If hostile, the bugbears will attempt to capture and enslave the PCs. The bugbears have a fortress/trading post at hex 3x6. Their leader is a 5th level Magic-User.
  12. A great roaring sound and lines of red and green fire arc between two silvery darts in the sky. After a furious assault lasting a quarter of an hour, one of the darts veers drunkenly toward the ground, leaking flames. It crashes with thunderous noise in hex 6x3. Ignore the next 10 results of 12. The 11th time it comes up, the PCs encounter a band of Grey Men in silver ship suits with various injuries. They are armed with directed energy weapons, but are in bad need of supplies, and will want to talk rather than fight. Their leader, a 2nd level Fighter, has a handheld translation device. It is possible that the PCs will never encounter the survivors, or they may explore the smoking ruins of the craft and encounter them there.
Unfortunately, I have to cut this a little short. I wanted to elaborate on a few things, but I'll have to save them for a follow up post (no promises for how soon that might be). I hope that this gives Ezekiel some direction (more than I gave him in that email a while back, anyway), and I hope any others who find their way to my neglected blog find some use for it. For now, adieu.

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.

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.