It is time to ditch the "good GM"

The myth of the "good GM is required to play" is an old tale in our hobby. I thought the myth had been laid to rest, but it is often raised from the dead with talks of "elite GMs" that know all the rules by heart, or "great GMs" that are skilled voice actors or that have amazing improv skills.

It is time to ditch this idea. In fact, it’s long overdue.

The "good DM" was often used as an excuse for “difficult” games: “this confusing game is great, it just requires a good GM to function.” Or, more neutrally, as a warning: “this game is good BUT it requires a good GM to run.” For me, it should be used as outright criticism: “this game is not easy to use, and it requires a GM that is above average to make it work.”

There is no objective way to measure or evaluate the quality of GMs, and no serious research exists AFAICT. People who usually talk about “good GMs” are often just talking about themselves in a display of arrogance and bravado.

Until we have objective evaluation, we can imagine that GMs divide into good, bad, and average, with the majority (around 68%) sitting in the middle of a normal curve. If you’ve read the DMG or know basic statistics, you understand this.

Imagine rolling 3d6 for your GM skill as a "prime requisite": requiring a result above “average,” say 13–14, would exclude most people unnecessarily from the “class” of GM.

A good RPG should be good for most players and GMs, except when you’re deliberately making niche content.

In short: most GMs are mid, great GMs are rare, and that’s fine. A game that is only viable or fun for the highly skilled is doomed to fail; even chess, poker, or football can be fun for beginners.

Great creativity, memory, improv skills, mastery of 200 pages of rules, and vast literary knowledge are wonderful things to have, but they shouldn’t be required to run a good game.

In fact, we all remember the time (often as kids or teens) when we barely understood the rules, had never read any RPG theory, and still managed to have memorable adventures. RPGs should be fun for the averages and even below-average, not only the self-professed “elites.”

In addition, RPGs should help me run a game, not force me to fight the system in order to make it work.

That’s why I try to create good tables and tools, so you (or, frankly, I) don’t need to be an awesome GM to make something great with them. I don’t want to put all the burden of creation on your shoulders if you’re using my games; in fact, I want to save you as much work as I can.

[Here is one example. My goal with the setting is not to require you to read Edgar Rice Burroughs, Clark Ashton Smith, Lovecraft, or Roadside Picnic in order to enjoy it, even if I would recommend you do. The idea is that you can get the same feel I enjoy simply by rolling the tables as written, without needing to construct it all yourself].

One of the happiest feelings I have after creating random tables is rolling, combining and realizing the combinations instantly generate cool ideas I hadn't considered. In other words, not because I thought of something cool, but because I found something I hadn’t thought.

Likewise, when I’m running (or writing) a module, I want things to be simple and clearly spelled out. I don’t want to be unexpectedly forced to train my creativity or improv skills. My focus should be on running the game and responding to the players’ choices—not wrestling with the text.

In conclusion: 

By all means, read all the rules, memorize (or even tinker with) the most important ones; dive into Appendix N books if you want (you know I do); learn how statistics work; try improv; make voices; crack jokes; write your own adventures, and tweak or complete existing ones. 

These are all useful, fun skills, and they will make you a better GM and a better player. But they are absolutely not required to play RPGs.

Snakes & Ladders: The Problem of Linear Progression in D&D

Among games that remain popular to this day, one of the oldest in the world is called Snakes and Ladders, a game that practically everyone knows (see image below). Movement is essentially linear, from start to finish, but there are two types of shortcuts/detours: ladders, which accelerate your progress toward the goal, and snakes, which send you back a few spaces. It is a simple mechanic, but one that creates real tension between advancement and setback.

The Goal of D&D and Its Structural Problem

Without getting into the debate about what exactly the goal of D&D is, certainly one of the central purposes of its characters is to become more powerful, that is, to rise from level one, where they are basically beginners, all the way to becoming legendary heroes. Gygax himself (if I'm not mistaken) has stated that this was the goal of the game: to transform starting characters into heroes like Conan or Elric.

The problem is structural. In game terms, the route from level one to level twenty always moves in the same direction. You only gain XP, you only gain levels, you never lose them. It is a one-way street.

The older designers did not entirely ignore this problem. Hence the mechanic of undead creatures that drain levels, creating an effect similar to the snakes in the original game. The Dungeon Master's Guide also included situations that could temporarily reduce your levels, such as exhaustion after a grueling march, or situations of permanent loss such as aging, which can only be reversed with very powerful spells.

Of course, XP is not the only measure of a character's power. With experience, a character gains abilities and hit points, and some abilities can be lost temporarily (often for no more than a day). HP can also be lost, and in older D&D this could have more lasting consequences (perhaps weeks rather than days) than in modern versions. Finally, one can lose money (whether because raising the dead comes at some cost, or through theft, etc.).

It must be acknowledged that some RPGs, such as Call of Cthulhu, famous for its downward spiral into madness, and other horror RPGs in general (Unknown Armies, certain versions of Kult, etc.), exhibit quite clear and lasting negative effects in their systems.

In any case, aside from the issue of undead creatures draining levels, there are not many truly permanent losses in D&D. The only real loss available is the death of the character, which even then can easily be circumvented by a resurrection spell. In most versions of D&D, there is no universal mechanism for lasting negative consequences: the loss of an attribute, the amputation of a limb, a permanent scar (except as an optional rule in the DMG to save a PC reduced to zero HP, an option I find quite appealing). There are no significant setbacks, save death itself. Using the original metaphor: it would be as if every snake on the board led back to the first square.

There are other tools in the game that attempt to work around this limitation, such as creatures that destroy equipment (even magical weapons), that petrify characters, or that impose curses and other lasting effects. But these are isolated/specific solutions, not structural ones; they only happen with a very small percentage of creatures and situations.

Another problem is that D&D players, accustomed to constant and uninterrupted advancement, tend to dislike losing special items, levels, or anything they have already incorporated as part of their character. They may even come to see this kind of loss as a form of cheating.

In modern D&D, there is debate over whether characters can even die at all, so the line of advancement becomes, in the end, a conveyor belt with no way back: you can only move forward.

Source: Wikipedia.

The Parallel with Video Games

It is worth noting that older video games, also divided into "levels" (or stages), followed a logic quite similar to that of Snakes and Ladders. Reaching the end of a stage meant advancing to the next, but dying at any point sent you back to the beginning of that stage, not to the beginning of the entire game, and never (or almost never) to a previous stage. Alongside this, there was a system of permanent loss: a limited number of "lives" which, once exhausted, forced you back to the very beginning of the game (that is, "level one").

Some more modern and less linear games that generate enthusiasm among RPG players (such as Dark Souls, Bloodborne, and Darkest Dungeon) play with this question of real loss in more sophisticated ways. Death in Dark Souls does not send you back to level zero, but it frequently causes the loss of all accumulated XP. In the case of Darkest Dungeon, where you control groups of characters, the death of a hero is a permanent loss for the team, something no spell can undo.

Why This Matters

Even for those who prefer a narrative in which characters never die and always advance, that advancement would be more interesting if it were not purely linear, that is, a little more like Snakes and Ladders. In other words: on the road to heroism, you always lose something.

High-level characters would carry, in their character sheets and their stories, a series of losses, obstacles, and scars. This enriches both narrative and simulation, whatever the goal of the players at the table may be.

In more narrative games influenced by story games, setbacks make the narrative more interesting (and there are books and RPGs at least partially built around this concept of gain and loss, such as Hamlet's Hit Points, Fate, etc.). In games that aim to reproduce cinema, literature, or the hero's journey, an advancement without setbacks makes little sense either.

In games focused on challenge, obstacles become more complex and dangerous when there are real chances of loss. Likewise, in games that seek simulation or immersion, such dangers make the game more believable and realistic.

In short: from any angle, questioning (and perhaps overcoming) the unidirectionality that governs character advancement in D&D may be an experience not only valid, but necessary for the evolution of the hobby.

(Solutions? Probably the subject of a future post. However, I will say permanent wounds are a great idea, IMO, as they could happen in any combat not just against very specific monsters. This could take the form of scars, diminished abilities, etc. Alternatively, expand level loss to include other situations besides undead and marching, maybe as a general fatigue mechanic, so that wounded/tired MUs cannot cast their best spells and tried fighters attack a bit slower).

Additional reading:

https://methodsetmadness.blogspot.com/2024/12/nothing-to-lose-but-their-lives-stakes.html

https://methodsetmadness.blogspot.com/2023/09/ad-dmg-cover-to-cover-part-ix-pages-100.html

Mass combat: broken units

I had a brief mass combat idea that solved most of the issues I had with PCs fighting a few dozen goblins at once.

This assumes there are only a few (say, one to ten) fighters in one side, and several (say, ten to a hundred) in the other.

We already have the usual combat rules for smaller combats, when there is fewer than a dozen foes on either side.

In addition, if you have 60 knights against 150 orcs, you can just treat it almost like a fight of 6 knights against 15 orcs, adapting as needed.

But when you mix everything together, you might have a small issue - still easily fixable.

Say you have four individual PCs, plus 60 knights against 150 orcs. Ten orcs can attack ten knights with a single roll (treat this as one or against one knight); the knights either die or don't.

Ten orcs can attack a single PC instead, with a +10 bonus.

The problem is if the PCs attack a group of ten orcs. Usually, they can only kill one or two (which might break morale and thus the whole unit, but that is another matter). Let's say they are reduced to nine orcs.

Now they can attack the PCs with a +9 instead of +10 bonus—all very intuitive.

But what if nine orcs decide to attack ten knights?

Simply give them a -1 bonus due to the difference between nine and ten, and give the knights a +1 bonus when attacking them.

But let's say we get into a more difficult situation: there are just four orcs, fighting to the death, against ten knights in plate.

They'd attack with -6, making a hit impossible. Instead, they could choose to make an attack against a single knight, now with +4. Now it is more likely that they'd kill at least one before being wiped out by the remaining knights.

Another option, maybe even easier, is saying that the 4 orcs can attack 4 knights - no bonuses or penalties. Treat this as one orc attacking one knight. Either the ten knights are reduced to six, or remain unharmed [this works somewhat similarly to the game Risk].

Conversely, if 7 knights attack 3 orcs, treat this as a single knight, attacking a single orc, with a +4 bonus. If that single orc is slain, it means all three orcs were defeated.

This system looks a bit complicated until I organize it, but it is very intuitive to me, and the results are not terribly far from the what you'd get but making each single attack separately - or at least close enough for my taste.

My goal, here, is never having to keep track of "minor NPC" HP, and never needing another set of rules - just roll 1d20, consider THAC0 and AC, use damage as written, etc. No need to convert to d6s, roll handfuls of d20s, and so on.

[BTW, if you own handfuls of d20 and d10s, you can easily use them as pawns, altering the digits as the units dwindle - for example, a d20 on 7 means 7 knights, and a d10 on 3 means 3 orcs. But you can also use any chips or counters, including the ones from Risk].

Now I want to playtest this. Looks promising.

Random stopwatch encounters

This is a small improvement over an old idea.

The DM rolls 1d100 in secret. Then sets a stopwatch for that many minutes.

When the time is over—there IS an encounter.

This will keep players on their toes! And it has several advantages over checking for encounters every 30 or 60 minutes:

- No more useless rolls where nothing happens.
- Encounters can happen almost simultaneously—roll a 1 or 2, and one side might get reinforcements during the fight!
- Or the newcomers might wait to see who wins… and jump in after.

It would work well for dungeon exploration. On average, you get an encounter every 50 minutes of actual play, on average. Sounds good to me, but you can adjust to your liking.

For wilderness exploration, I'm not sure - maybe you could roll 1d100 and count hours, but that would defeat the purpose of using a stopwatch...

On a similar topic...

In Pellucidar, Chapter 2, Edgar Rice Burroughs describes a series of random encounters—but most are hand-waved until a meaningful one (with a cave bear) actually happens.

Maybe D&D deserves a mechanic like that to make wilderness encounters more meaningful. Day one you circumvent some snakes, day 3, you scare wolves with arrows, day 5 you see pterodactyls in the distance, and day 7... BAM! Roll initiative.

But this deserves further reflection. 

For now, you can check my small app (explanation here) and my latest book to make your wilderness encounters easier to generate.

AD&D 2e reaction table

The AD&D 2e reaction table is... interesting:

Compare it to the BECMI reaction table, discussed here.

The tables are different for several reasons, but the main distinction is that the AD&D 2e table requires you to check the player characters' attitude before finding out how the monster behaves, while every other D&D table I can remember goes the opposite way: first consider the die roll, then check how the monsters behave.

Of course, in practice you can always ask how the PC's react first (or ignore the rection roll altogether, etc.). But I think it would be better to rely on initiative here - if the PC's have the initiative, they can choose to show they're friendly before the monsters decide how to react, which would certainly give them some advantage in the reaction roll.

If they LOSE initiative, the monsters "react" first - but if they are uncertain, this gives the PC's another chance to make a peaceful gesture, etc.

Another interesting aspect of the 2e table is that it can result in flight. This makes some sense as the table is affected by morale modifiers. A curious idea! Should scared monsters be friendlier? It makes some sense if they are intelligent, otherwise they should just run away if they can (which is the case if PCs are hostile).

Unfortunately, the actual morale score is irrelevant here; a monster with morale 18 and other with morale 10 are both as likely to flight or be hostile. 

Curiously, since chaotic creatures have -1 to morale checks for some reason (they are probably more cowardly and less organized), they are also more likely to be friendly, which is a mistake IMO.

Overall, the 2e table is not any clearer or better than other tables, but it has several advantages we can use - and a few disadvantages I'd like to change.

It feels too friendly to "indifferent" PCs, do not contain immediate attacks, and is organized in a 4x19 grid instead of the usual 5 entries. It also seems to lack a "cautious" column that should be the default for PCs, with equal chances of friendliness and hostility.

Maybe my ideal 2d10 table would be smaller, containing a single column instead of a grid. Give the PCs a -1 if they manage to show they're friendly before you roll (e.g., if they win initiative); let he "speaker" or "leader" make any kind of Charisma "check" you feel appropriate to change this to -2 [simply including the charisma modifier feels too extreme, IMO; it would make everyone your friend]. 

If they are hostile or attack, roll with +1 to +2 (it is unlikely you need to roll after the PCs attack).

2–3. Friendly

4–6. Positive

7–10. Curious

11–13. Indifferent

14–16. Suspicious

17–18. Negative

19–20. Hostile (fight or flight - morale check)

As you can see, I added morale only to the last entry. But you can also use it whenever intelligent NPCs feel threatened or unable to escape, to see if they negotiate or surrender.

This is not much better than the original 2d6 table. Except that 2d10 allows you some extra room to give +2 and -2 modifiers. Maybe a simpler version would be better:

2–4. Friendly 

5–7. Positive, indifferent

8–12. Cautious curiosity  

13–16. Negative, suspicious, aggressive

17–20. Hostile (fight or flight - morale check if needed)

But then again, I've written about this before... more than once! 

So I'll leave this as a small post about 2e reaction, and point you to some older posts about reaction rolls in general:

https://methodsetmadness.blogspot.com/2023/05/reaction-rolls-in-practice-osr.html

https://methodsetmadness.blogspot.com/2022/10/a-d20-reaction-check-osr.html

RPGs vs. Wargames - Zooming in and out

I have written about this before. Today I'm not discussing if RPGs are wargames or not. I'll just notice that there's a tension between the wargame and RPG perspectives, and will discuss how it manifests in Chainmail (wargame) and D&D (RPG).

The main difference is one of scope:

- Wargames are (traditionally, although there are exceptions) focused on battles between dozens to thousands of people; each player controls many people.

- In RPGs (traditionally, although there are exceptions), each player (except the GM) plays a single character/"role".

D&D was spawned from Chainmail (in OD&D, Chainmail appears as required material), among other games, and we can see the shift in focus as the game progresses. There is a "zooming in" of sorts.

Here are a few examples.

Alignment

Originally, alignment was about factions/teams. In modern D&D it is linked to personal philosophy, outlook, and behaviors. This shift creates some confusion and is discussed here.

Weapons

Chainmail had very important weapon versus armor rules that couldn't be ignored. Maces are better against plate, and daggers are a lot better against unarmored people. There are magic weapons, but not many details, you can get a bonus due to a generic "magic sword" or "magic arrow", for example.

When you get to D&D, the focus starts shifting to individual weapons. Magic weapons get more detailed (flaming swords, then vorpal swords, mace of disruption, etc.) and swords get deeper personalities and stats of their own. This tendency will continue through editions, with an ever-growing number of singular magic weapons.

The weapon versus armor table, on the other hand, is included in AD&D but often ignored in actual play (even by Gygax). In 2e, it gets simplified, and from 3e onward is nearly forgotten. The individual weapon is more important than weapon type. 

Ability scores and other stats

Chainmail does not use ability scores or many individual stats. Most creatures are defined by type/HD, AC, and attacks. In  OD&D, ability scores are present but not as important, and there are cases when Dexterity 7 is equal to Dexterity 14 in most circumstances; class and level are way more important. But soon "ability checks" become popular, and ability tables gain more detail; there is an effort to make each single point important. In modern (post-2000) D&D, ability scores are almost as important as class and level.

One interesting anecdote is how some classic D&D characters get names that are jokes/puns, simple anagrams of their player's names, or derived from class and level - the famous "Melf" is a "Male elf" abbreviation. Compare this to Drizzt, for example; a rebel drow that is opposite to whatever drow originally represented.

Hit points and level

In Chainmail, creatures are defeated or not with one or a few "hits". Hit points are created precisely because players get attached to their characters. This causes a "hit point inflation" eventually. Individual advancement, which doesn't quite exist in Chainmail, becomes an important focus of the game.

Dungeons and the battlefield

Wargames are often set in open spaces. Tight dungeons require a tighter focus. In old school D&D, this tension is often resolved by giving weapon range and movement different meaning indoors and outdoors (from feet to yards IIRC), which I find to be an elegant solution, but it later editions simplify things to make them equal despite the environment - often assuming that you're in tight environments anyway and even focusing on "grids" and "squares", especially in 4e.

Large battles

Large battles are assumed in Chainmail. In early D&D, the fighter gets some tools to fight hordes of weak creatures; this is expected. In modern D&D, this becomes somewhat of an special case. By 4e, you get "minion" rules to facilitate large battles. 

Individual monsters

In modern D&D, even lowly monster get endless variations, so that these creatures can also be individuals. The stat-block get bigger. By 3e, creatures have ability scores of their own. You also get more detailed rules on how to interact with them on an individual basis, maybe negotiating and so on. Most intelligent monster will have names, personalities and particular interests, which were not as relevant in old school D&D.

In conclusion

Wargames and RPGs are not necessarily incompatible, and some believe that RPGs are a subset of wargames. 

I do believe some "hybrid forms" or tools that allow you to "zoom in and out" are fun and will give you that "Appendix N" feel; Conan is sometimes in dungeons and single combat, and sometimes fighting or ruling over hordes and kingdoms.

Realizing there is a tension between the two perspectives may be useful to choose what rules to apply to your own games.

Additional reading:

https://methodsetmadness.blogspot.com/2024/02/wargames-storygames-and-rpgs.html

https://methodsetmadness.blogspot.com/2024/04/character-death-in-rpgs-war-games-and.html

https://methodsetmadness.blogspot.com/2023/06/weapon-versus-armor-from-ad-to-bx.html

https://methodsetmadness.blogspot.com/2017/03/does-d-require-miniatures-3e-versus-4e.html

https://methodsetmadness.blogspot.com/2025/03/brief-mass-combat-idea.html

https://methodsetmadness.blogspot.com/2015/03/on-alignment-part-i-alignment-origins.html

Brief mass combat idea

Here is a brief mass combat idea meant for old school D&D or OSR games. I'm using ascending AC in my examples because that's what I use in my games.

Here is the idea:

10 1st level fighters count as a single fighter with a +10 attack bonus until the end of the round.

They attack as one. They deal one die of damage (say, 1d8 if they're using swords).

They add one point of damage for each point over the AC (if using ascending AC).

By Dean Spencer

Let's say 10 bandits are attacking your 5th-level  PC, who has AC 17. They roll 9. Adding a +10 bonus, this means 19, two points more than needed to hit. They deal 1d8+2 damage.

The best part about this idea is how it vastly simplifies things.

If you decide only 4 or 6 fighters can attack the PC at a time, just reduce the bonus to +4 or +6.

If the PC slays a couple of bandits, reduce the bonus to +8. And so on.

In some cases, you can just add up all HD. If your PC is attacked by a 3rd level fighter and 3 bandits, they can make one single attack with +6.

It also makes goblins, etc., dangerous though all levels. If your PC in magical plate and shield gets attacked by ten goblins, it is VERY LIKELY that ate least one of them will get a good stab!

This will probably be useful when PCs have multiple henchmen too. One roll, period.

Is this similar to actually rolling each attack individually? Well, it varies a lot depending on AC, number of foes, etc. Apparently, the bigger the group, the smaller the damage each individual adds (which might be explained by fewer people being able to attack at the same time). 

Let's try with six goblins attacking a fighter in plate [AC 16], using B/X (or OSE) rules. The usual damage per round (DPR) would be around 5.25. With my proposed rule, it would be about 4.4. 

If the fighter is unarmored, DPR is also similar (11.55 versus 9.78, more or less). Not bad.

And if the fighter has plate, armor, and some magic bonus to AC? Let's say AC 20? An extreme case, but... Then damage doubles from about 1.05 to 2.28. So the rule works as intended!

(These numbers were calculated with the help of AI... let me know if they're wrong!)

I probably wouldn't use such a rule if you're fighting a couple of giants, for example; just for low-level foes. Likewise, allowing 15 goblins to attack you at once sounds unwieldy; I'd keep the limit at 10 for now, and you ever fight 20 goblins at once they cannot attack you as a single unit (treat them as two groups).

I probably COULD use this idea for huge mass battles, just adding a few zeroes when needed.

Say, a force of 90 knights clash with 50 enemy knights. The 90 knights attack with a +9 bonus, etc. They deal 1d8 damage (or whatever) plus the margin of success. Then just multiply damage (or casualties) per 10, and reduce the opposing force equally.

I haven't played-tested this. But I have a good feeling about it...

Additional reading:

https://methodsetmadness.blogspot.com/2023/02/the-hd-game.html

I want LESS!

Most of my time playing and reading RPGs has been ruled by the “undisciplined pursuit of more.”

I played several RPGs and took pride in trying new ones. I favored "universal" systems where I could create endlessly detailed PCs and do anything I wanted. I also collected monster manuals for my D&D-ish needs.

This process has been somewhat useful in helping me discover my tastes and needs.

However, there has also been much waste. I read only a fraction of the RPGs I buy and play an even smaller fraction of the RPGs I read. Nowadays, I'm embracing "the disciplined pursuit of less."

In other words, I want less: fewer monsters, fewer spells, fewer magic items, fewer stats, and simpler systems.

This partly reflects my appreciation for minimalism, but it goes beyond that. I believe that having fewer elements makes each one more important and meaningful.

While having a multitude of monsters is fun, each Monster Manual contains more creatures than entire worlds like Middle-earth, Barsoom, Lankhmar, or the Hyborian Age (not to mention most horror and sci-fi settings). It becomes virtually impossible for PCs to understand each individual monster with any depth.

Take dragons, for example. The dragons of mythology and literature are often unique individuals, like Smaug, Fafnir, Tiamat, Drogon. Each is distinct and memorable. But the 2e MM (my favorite!) has about more than a dozen dragon types. If a D&D party sees Smaug, it is just another red dragon (they don't even need to interact to know that he is chaotic, since he is red; but this is another issue).

[Another thing I've been considering is how adding more monsters to a game doesn't make it any different from "standard" D&D, but replacing existing monsters creates a completely new kind of setting. Take Curse of Strahd, for example: it includes few "demihumans," and even the elves are distinct from the familiar elves we're used to. This seems to hold true for most of my favorite settings and modules, and I think I might never run an adventure containing orcs again.]

Magic items are the same: Excalibur or Stormbringer are memorable, and so is Sting. In D&D, a first-level party often has dozens of magic items. Eventually, they discard some of them as they reach higher levels. This abundance devalues magic items and magic in general.

I feel the same way about rules.

I’ve run a few 5e campaigns. 5e is a more "complete" game than B/X. However, it requires ten times the page count to achieve this. So, I’ve been asking myself: is 5e ten times more complete than B/X? And the answer is no. Same goes for AD&D.

[Sure, I could use a one-page RPG. In the end, this ultimately comes down to a matter of taste.]

Spell selection has also been a headache, leading to imbalance and analysis paralysis.

I like customizing characters, but I don’t need dozens of classes and races. I really enjoy the simplicity of being able to say the bandit leader is a "fighter 5" and leaving it at that.

When you have fewer elements, you can connect them more meaningfully. For example, elves resist ghouls. The undead are raised by demons. All aberrations come from other dimensions, while monsters are created by mages. Etc.

And to be honest, this would make way more likely that my players would even REMEMBER most of this stuff.

In short, many of my current issues with D&D could be solved by just having less.

Additional reading:

https://methodsetmadness.blogspot.com/2024/05/unlimited-d-x-limited-d.html

https://methodsetmadness.blogspot.com/2018/01/the-illustrated-war-of-earth-and-sky.html

https://methodsetmadness.blogspot.com/2025/01/magic-item-inflation-in-ad.html

https://methodsetmadness.blogspot.com/2023/10/skeleton-with-bow.html

https://methodsetmadness.blogspot.com/2015/01/minimalism-elegance-and-multipurpose.html

Reflections on RAW, RTFM and game design

It is common knowledge that several rules are simply ignored in many RPG systems.

Instead of playing RAW (rules as written), people often play the game with several changes they have invented or found elsewhere.

AD&D is a good example - apparently, not even Gygax used all the rules that it proposed (most famously the weapon versus armor tables, maybe weapon speed). But this is true for a number RPGs, and it definitely includes the current version of D&D.

Some rules are ignored simply because they are BAD. But that's not what I'll discuss here.

Let's assume we have some GOOD rules that are ignored by many (maybe most) tables. We could even imagine that ignoring them will make a worse/more unbalanced game.

If your game breaks because of that... who is to blame?

Well, most people would say you are at fault. Especially if you are a "RAW purist" - someone who believes RPGs should be played exactly as written.

You should "Read The Fucking Manual" (RTFM), as people say.

I'm not so sure this is the case.

Let's try an analogy. 

A doctor orders you to take a medicine daily.

Many people will automatically say it is obvious that taking it is your responsibility.

But I can BET that if this is a pill to treat an advanced case of dementia, or it is a medicine in form of a big suppository for a mild disease, many people will simply skip the medicine.

And this is a DESIGN PROBLEM.

Likewise, if your games have rules that work in theory, but often get house-ruled in practice, maybe this could be a design issue.

Maybe the rules are too burdensome, fiddly, for anyone to actually use.

And yes, sometimes popularity is about quality - especially in this case. 

You already bought the book, and decide to play the game, so if a particular rule is often ignored, it probably means it is bad or too cumbersome, obscure, etc.

Maybe they tried the rule and didn't like it.

Maybe they didn't even try - partly because the designer hasn't been able to sell it in the manual. 

If people ignore an IMPORTANT rule, maybe part of the reason is that the designer failed to emphasize it enough.

Another example that occurred to me is buying my grandma a new air fryer.

At first, she was not sure how to use it. She does sometime struggle with the remote.

Fortunately, the manual is about 2-pages long, and buttons have been reduced to the minimum.

Good design is also about ease of use.

Maybe calling grandma stupid for not being able to use the remote and telling her to "RTFM" accomplishes nothing.

Maybe the remote COULD have a simpler design.

If you write a game, you should at least consider it.

Dead-end mechanics

When I was analyzing the 1e DMG - a project I plan to complete in 2025 - I noticed it has several interesting sub-systems. 

While I prefer simpler games, I can see the value of having interesting detail to your games, no matter how idiosyncratic (for example, AD&D seems obsessed with polearms, while swords do not seem to get the same attention).

There was something bothering me about AD&D and it was not the bits that felt unnecessarily complex. The system felt a bit disjointed and I couldn't quite explain it until I gave it a name: dead-end mechanics.

This is not something specific to AD&D - it can potentially happen in any RPG, and it might be closely related to what makes RPGs unique.

AD&D is a good example only because it has so many moving parts.

Let's try a definition: dead-end mechanics are parts of an RPG system that do not meaningfully interact with other important parts, especially when those other parts are thematically related.

This definition can be improved, but let's give some examples.

Example 1. Disease, ears and hearing

There is a curious idea in AD&D that you can check monthly to see if the PCs suffer from parasites or mild ear disease. While this feels un-heroic and not particularly exciting, I can see that it would give a campaign a gritty/realistic feels and a sense of urgency (TIME must always have a COST).

[It can also add some gravitas to fights against giant bats, rats and even wolves].

However, the effects of such diseases on usual dungeon activities are not always described. There would be some obvious solutions - for example, diminished chance of listening to doors or greater chance of being surprised - but the book simply does not address this.

If you lose hearing in BOTH ears, the results on "listening to doors" are obvious, even if not described - we'll get to that later. In any case, the results on surprise are not clear.

Similarly, there is no exact consequences to the loss of an eye for ranged attacks, for example.

(Another curious example here is venereal disease. Since the game includes no benefits to intercourse, this just feels disjointed from everything else. Pendragon, for example, has rules for lust and descendants, which might suggest a bigger focus on such issues. Also, the game mentions herbs/gems that ward off disease, but not how they actually affect disease rolls).

Example 2. Time - initiative, segments, weapon speed

My main frustration here is how complicated and disjointed the initiative/segments rules feel.

There is simply a lack of obvious connection between surprise, weapon speed and thief skills. They don't seem to communicate... but they obviously should!

Can a thief surprise a foe with his silent movement? Should a fast weapon be ideal for this job? Can you get more attacks with a fast weapon if your foe is surprised? I'd say "yes" to all of those, but the book either doesn't make it clear or indicates that the answer is negative.

There is also also no clear connection between the speed of melee weapons and ranged weapons, and they seem to work differently in the surprise segments for no apparent reason.

Example 3. Levels, abilities and dungeon/wilderness skills

This is not an AD&D thing, but something common to most versions of TSR D&D. 

As the PCs level up, they get better at fighting and surviving, but they do not seem to improve in any other dungeon activity: listening to doors (or breaking them down), find their way in the wilderness, hunting, etc.

The thief is the main exception here, since most of his skills are dungeon related and get better with level. 

Curiously, the ranger does not have many special skills in the wilderness: he is not better than any other PC when finding his way in the forest. He can cause upraise and avoid being surprise in any environment, but it is unclear how this fits with the vaguely similar abilities of thieves and even halflings.

Example 4. Drowning

I don't remember the source of this; could be some version of Labyrinth Lord. 

But the rule was something like "if you try to cross a river in plate armor, you have 90% chance of drowning".

Just flat 90% (or whatever). Your strength, level or class do not matter. HP? Save versus death? No. You just drown.

Are dead end mechanics even possible?

While I find these mechanics undesirable, I do think there is a natural limit to dead end mechanics.

As I mentioned above, it is obvious that if you lose hearing in BOTH ears you cannot "listen to doors", although the game does not say that, nor does it describe what happens if you lose hearing in ONE ear, which is much more statically probable.

This has something to do with the uniqueness of RPGs.

RPGs give fluff and crunch a peculiar bond, to the point that fluff IS crunch and vice-versa.

This is a long discussion, but in short, in RPGs a spear will NEVER be identical to an axe, even if both deal have the same damage, weight and cost. An axe will ALWAYS be more useful to take down a door even if the game doesn't say so.

My point is: if taking down doors is a frequent activity, the game should address this difference explicitly.

How to write better mechanics

My ideal game would have a big level of integration between the different rules. In the most frequent cases, this should be explicit to make the GM's job easier.

Modern D&D sometimes does a better job at connecting various mechanics. For example, a Constitution saving throw relies on ability AND level AND class. But, sometimes, it creates MORE problems of this kind, like the fact that 5e D&D has at least TWO unrelated ways of disarming opponents (one of them optional), with no clear relation. 

I must mention Quidditch as a negative example (despite not being a big fan of Harry Potter). While there is some nuance, it often feels like two guys are playing an entire different game that has a flimsy relation to the rest of the players and a huge possibility to make all other efforts void.

["A Seeker catching the Snitch ends the game and scores the successful Seeker's team an additional 150 points (15 goals). As the team with the most points wins, this often guarantees victory for the successful Seeker's team." - source].

But maybe I can express this point visually, using the two images in this post.

The spheres represent game mechanics. The biggest ones are the most important/common. They are connected by lines; e.g., Constitution and level should both have direct lines to HP, but Constitution does not necessarily have a direct line to level or saving throws.

The first image in this post represents a disjointed game: no clear center, with some important mechanics disconnected from others.

The second image is closer to my idea: the most important spheres are near the center and strongly connected; disconnected mechanics are few and unimportant.

I think there is more to be said about the subject, but I'll leave it here for now.

As a suggestion, I'll say we must consider what are the central mechanics of a game (maybe abilities,  levels, classes, maybe also time, money, XP, encumbrance, etc.) and how they related to each other. Dead-end mechanics should be rare.

TIME must always have a COST - no 5-minute workdays

I've written a longer post here; this is the short version, more or less.

(I really like that post; I encourage you to read it).

Time must always have a cost.

Resting for one hour in the dungeon is dangerous. But so is resting for one day in the wild.

Resting for a month in a peaceful city should ALSO have a cost.

The cost is usually DANGER. 

It can also be money, until the PCs are too rich to care. Or anything else the PCs might lose.

In any case, there must be a risk that the cost lasts longer than the time spent. 

I.e., if the cost of resting for a day is an encounter that does nothing except take a few HP, they'll just rest another day or two.

If there is no cost, the PCs will ALWAYS fall back to the free/safe state after they have spent some resources, thus creating the "5-minute work day": the PCs enter the dungeon, spend all their spells, and get out of the dungeon to recover them.

Same can be said of HP. It does not matter if the PCs fully recover in one day, one week, or one month if there is no cost to that.

Even after a month, it is unlikely that the monsters will "re-spawn" (although I love to add certain undead that rise again every night until the source of the curse is destroyed).

But maybe they should just leave (with all the treasure) or call for reinforcements. 

Otherwise, the PCs can always "reset" their losses with no costs for the opposition.

It is like they are playing chess, and they can always reset their clock arbitrarily - and even replenish lost pieces - but their foes can't.

Until, of course, they suffer a check-mate (or TPK). 

This is hard to happen if the PCs can just choose to leave at any time, but it can still happen against opposition that is much stronger.

I'm tempted to say the game ends whenever the PCs reach safety (or, again, in a TPK). You can start the game again with the same PCs after a day of after after a season, but then it will be a different game. If they go back to the dungeon, the dungeon will have changed.

Having a game without any risk feels a bit boring.  The only way to have a meaningful campaign that never really "stops" is to keep that in mind.

Note: the New Year, New Game sale is on. I'm thinking of getting Crypts and Things Remastered - let me know if you have read it! But there are tons of other games on sale.

(affiliate links)

Unused parts - Reduce, Reuse, Recycle?

Lately, I've been reconsidering the amount of work I put in my campaigns.

As an example, let's talk dungeons. No matter if you create your own, use a published module or random tables, I expect you to have a minimum knowledge of the thing you're running.

The problem is an interesting dungeon has lots of content - and, while the players will probably never see half of it, the GM has to at least give it some consideration.

It is not just the ignored rooms and secret doors that were never found - it is also the NPC with relevant information that the PCs immediately attack, the writings in languages no one speaks*, random encounters/events that do not happen, maybe even the villain monologue that gets interrupted, etc. 

[*For example, I ran Tamoachan the other day and it has SEVERAL writings and dialogues in "Olman" or whatever. Nowhere in the adventure summary I found any warning for the GM about that. I might have missed it. I used both the 1e and the 5e version].

This is what I call this "unused parts".

It seems that the DM will always have a lot more work than the players - the fun part, for me, is that during the actual game (my favorite part) I can sit back and see what the PCs do, as a neutral referee, without having to author anything.

While I love the sandbox format, I think it encourages "unused parts". A sandbox needs huge unexplored parts, and the freedom to allow PCs to go where they want. I takes the GM a lot of work to create or get acquainted with an entire setting.

Here is an example from X I've seen today (from @ericbabe3):

The PCs decide to follow the main corridor, found the treasure behind a secret door, and left. All the work the GM had choosing this module and reading it beforehand was wasted. 

I definitely LIKE the fact that the PCs can do that.

But how to deal with all those unused parts?

Let's see.

- Force them on the PCs (quantum ogre). This is just putting each encounter/trap/room you want to have in your game in front of the PCs, no matter which door they choose. I dislike this - it makes PC's choices meaningless and ruins any sense of surprise for me, the GM, as I know exactly what will happen.

- Randomize everything (random ogre). Roll 1d6 to put a random trap in front of the PCs, no matter which door they choose. Like the example above, it makes PC's choices mostly meaningless, and you still have a few traps/encounters that will simply not happen.

- Talk to the players beforehand. In my sandbox, the PCs can go anywhere, but I need at least a vague idea on where they are going. I've scattered several dungeons around the map, but I can't read - let alone remember - each one. So I just ask before the next session about where the PCs intend to go.

This is harder to do with dungeons. Depending on the size of your dungeon and your sessions, maybe you can read only a few levels beforehand.

- Minimum prep. Just do the bare minimum:  give a quick glance to the module and read the entirety of the room IF the PCs get there. This is what I've been doing, but it has led to some confusion on occasion, when the module is not clear enough and I'd need more time to understand. For example, I was once running a module that gave the PCs an "Amulet of the Phoenix" that was simply not described anywhere. I had to improvise in a case of life or death (that deserves a post in the future). Later I found out there was a "Talisman of the Phoenix" or something in the magic item list.

Another example: There are huge unmapped areas in my sandbox that are simply called "giant territory", "goblin territory", and "undead territory". No dungeons in most of these areas - I'll detail them when the PCs get closer, but they at least have a vague idea on what to expect and can make meaningful choices.

- Zooming in an out. Another way to think of this is "zooming in and out". Ideally, modules should be prepared in such a manner. You should be able to get the clear picture from a sentence or two, preferentially in bold, and the have other paragraphs describing what may happen if the players do X or Y.

Any important secrets or details must also be emphasized/ marked to make sure the GM will not miss them.

Likewise, for a overland map, with hexes or otherwise, you could have brief descriptions of each are and then a more detailed description - with a corresponding map - later on.

I know there are several attempts to do that in OSR games. I never read a module that really stands out in this manner, but I'm always searching! Have you? 

- Reduce, Reuse, Recycle. This is especially important if you're creating your own stuff.

Reduce: make it terse, keep prep to a minimum. Don't fill all the details, just create whatever you want to inspire you. "This room has two sleeping ogres, Torg and Gurps, not aggressive but starting to get hungry".  If the PCs kill them while they sleep, you haven't wasted much details.

Reuse: have recurring NPCs and factions, and let they repeat their tactics/traps/behavior sometimes. Let the PCs go back and forth in your wilderness maps. PCs usually need a home base that will be more detailed than other cities. 

Some times, the PCs will enter the same dungeon multiple times (although it is useful to consider how the dungeon changes as they come and go). In my latest "haunted castle" adventure, the undead simply rose again every night.

Recycle. Traps/rooms/encounters that are cool and unused can be kept for later. This is not a "quantum ogre" thing. The PCs must have the option of ignoring it again. You have to deliberately change where the thing is placed, and you have to do it carefully -  the new place must make a last some sense.

Let me know in the comments if you have any other methods to deal with unused parts!

Single attack/damage roll (kubular), but divided in half

I think I discussed that idea at the time, but I didn't write down this exact implementation. Read that post before this one! This method has several advantages over the usual D&D method.

Here is the deal: no more damage rolls.

Just roll 1d20 plus modifiers and subtract AC, then divide by two: this is the total damage (minimum 1).

Modifiers include attack bonus and weapon rating (WR).

WR usually goes from -3 (unarmed) to +3 (heavy 2H-weapon).

A dagger has +0 WR; other weapon are easy to figure out (d6, d8 and d10 become +1, +2, +3).

Improvised weapons, gauntlets, etc, have a WR of -1 or -2.

Lets assume ascending unarmored AC 11 (like BFRPG).

A dagger hit deals an average of 3 damage against unarmored targets, a bit over the original (nice!).

A 2H-sword, OTOH, deals 3.77 damage on a hit, but hits more often than in the original BFRPG; the DPR (damage per round) is about 2.45, a bit HIGHER than the usual 2.25.

What about heavy armor? Say, Plate mail is AC 17 in BFRPG. 

To hurt someone in plate with bare hands, you need a natural 20 (realistically, you'd be more likely to hurt your hand... add some grappling rules to your game!).

A dagger will only deal 1.5 points of damage. 

A 2H sword deals an average of 2.5 damage (originally 4.5), but again the DPR is 0.8, not far form the original (0.9).

I'd definitely combine it with some "armor defeating" rules for maximum effect. E.g., cutting weapons deal 1 point of additional damage if they hit, maces get +2 to-hit against chain or heavier, axes are +1 against everybody, etc.

The sandbox railroad

Can a sandbox be a railroad?

Despite numerous definitions, sometimes I think of sandbox as "you can go anywhere in here" and railroads as "you can ONLY go this way".

But last week the PCs were exploring an unknown area of the hex map, looking for a ruined castle of legend. 

They were surrounded by forests, and had no exact clues about the location of the castle (only that it is "near the river" and a couple of clues they can find in the way), so they just wandered around a bit, looking for more information, "opening" new hexes.

(BTW, Hextml has this cool "fog of war" effect that can help you manage that).

They still haven't found the castle; I decided that it is big enough that they will see it if they cross the right hex.

So, you could say they are in a sandbox... they can go anywhere, but... until they find the castle, there is no difference. There is just more forest and rolling for random encounters.

This is not exactly a railroad, but the result is the same no matter the direction they go (again, until they find the castle).

Let me illustrate this:

Lets say the green area is a forest, brown is mountain, blue is sea.

In an hex map, if you're going from "B" to "A", you can try different ways - assuming you cannot simply draw a straight line because you don't know the EXACT location of B.

But it doesn't make a difference. It is all forest. Same speed, same chances of getting lost, same random encounters.

In fact, even if the PCs suddenly decide to go THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION, to C, or if they get lost and wander into the mountains of the North, or travel South until they see the ocean... you STILL know exactly what is going to happen in the next week or so (if that's the distance from A to B).

Of course, this does not feel like a railroad if you have interesting, preexisting, features in EACH hex (which I don't).

Random features and random encounters, however, do not change the railroad "format" of this experience. If you roll to find out there is a cottage or an ogre in the new hex, it still doesn't matter if the PCs went North or South: the result would be the same.

Anyway, I don't think this is an actual railroad, because, while the PATH seems identical, the destination is different. The PCs haven't had their choices negated. Their choices are irrelevant for this week (they literally have a random encounter with an ogre whichever direction they go), but ultimately they'll arrive in a different destination.

But this is an interesting aspect to consider. There are SEVERAL dungeons scattered across my sandbox, and I'm always a bit worried that the PCs choose to go to a dungeon I'm not entirely familiar with (I cannot memorize all this stuff, TBH). 

I don't want to "force" them into a dungeon , but I'd really like to spend at least half an hour reading it before they enter.

The fact that I know exactly what happens on the way to the dungeon - NO MATTER WHICH WAY - might be an interesting tool to give me time to prepare. 

Maybe I could even roll/prepare half a dozen encounters beforehand (I'm currently using this) and know exactly what is coming in the next session - regardless of the direction the PCs take.

Time scales: rounds, days, weeks, expeditions

"For want of a nail the kingdom was lost"

Time keeping is extremely important in D&D. 

Everyone knows that since Gary Gygax said in the AD&D 1e DMG, in all caps, that YOU CAN NOT HAVE A MEANINGFUL CAMPAIGN IF STRICT TIME RECORDS ARE NOT KEPT.

But I think few RPGs - and maybe not even AD&D - has got this exactly right.

One concern I've shared here before is how spellcasters recover all of their spells OVERNIGHT. This becomes a problem because fighter can take up to four weeks to recover lost HP. And, while spells must be chosen every day, equipment is usually chosen once per expedition.

These things are operating in different time scales.

- Losing some HP may "cost" you a month (resurrection also costs you a few weeks).

- Losing all your rations might ruin your entire expedition*.

- Losing spell slots costs you a day at most.

(*An "expedition" is the travel from a safe city to a nearby dungeon or other challenge. In other genres, we could have a "job", "mission", "heist", etc).

If you have spells that produce HP or rations, the rhythm of the HP and ration recovery is broken. Which is not a problem "per se", if you are conscious of the effects.

For example, if a PC takes weeks to recover HP, this could encourage players to "rotate" between multiple characters. A cleric with "cure light wounds" can basically avoid this process, except when there is need for resurrection.

There is a certain rhythm to D&D - each RPG has its own.

In Pendragon, there are "time skips" that take years, and rule for how you can play with your heirs. Likewise (IIRC), wounds can take a lot of time to heal.

In DCC RPG, there are lasting consequences for magic - you can get mutations, spell mishaps, etc. Some of these are permanent (IIRC). This is not a problem, but I think other classes should also be subject to permanent consequences - say, scars and losing limbs (which is a thing in DCC, IIRC, but not usually in D&D).

Runequest suggests "one adventure per season" and - AFAICT - this interacts with income and experience rules.

In 4e D&D, there are daily, encounter and "at will" powers for ALL classes, so everybody in playing in the same tempo. It might have been too radical, making classes feel a bit "samey".

In 5e D&D, there are few consequences that can last more than a day. All spell slots are recovered, yes, but so are all HP and other powers. Even "raise dead" only takes four days to recover. There are also "short rests" that allow you to recover some HP, slots, etc. during the day.

The tricky part in 5e is keeping the short rest:long rest ratio. 

You see, some classes are better with long rests, others with short rests. If you mess up the ratio, 5e's supposed "balance" goes out the window. That is why 5e attracts bizarre concepts such as "seven encounters per day", which sounds good in a dungeon but silly in the wilderness, city, etc.

Old school D&D has a similar problem (well, like all RPGs).

First, there is this wilderness/dungeon divide. B/X recommends at one encounter check per day in the wilderness. But even if you're making three or four (which is optional), it is unlikely that will lead to more than a couple of actual combats if you're using the reaction table and evasion rules. 

But in the dungeon you check for encounters every TWENTY MINUTES. This changes the game completely. Now spell slots are precious few - at least for the first few levels.

However, PCs are not supposed to go to the wilderness until level 4. By level 5, a MU might have a 5d6 fireball that can destroy many wilderness encounters. 

On the other hand, if you "nerf" the MU too much, he is helpless in the dungeon after casting a couple of spells.

I think this is why a first level MU feels too weak and a 10th-level one feels too strong. Nerfing the MU requires giving him cantrips or at least a sword to compensate.

AD&D has aging rules. Unless you get cursed by a spell, these do not really matter, because no game mechanic interacts meaningfully with "years" (unless, maybe, building a castle or similar). Similarly, weapons have different speeds, which can interact with spell interruption and so on.

Then we have rounds, turns, hours, days, etc. Torches burn for an hour, which is 6 turns, or 360 rounds. Running out of torches might force you to spend days to go back to town, or, worse, can leave you lost in the dark.

I'm not suggesting a simple fix; instead, I'm encouraging you to reflect about which time scale your games are about, and how scales interact.

And, of course, keep strict time records and let your players know about it. 

The "5 minute workday" problem happens because there is no cost to wasting a day. If there is also no cost to wasting a few weeks, the PCs will start every encounter fully rested and healed regardless of healing spells and potions. And so on.

I have to reflect on how to implement this myself. In my current campaign, the PCs decided to leave a mission against certain goblin tribes that were harassing a nearby village. 

What happens when then go back? 

The answer should certainly be affected by how long they take to go back. If I just hand-wave time, we go back to "time railroading" and decisions about time become meaningless.

I've said before that "Time seems to be the glue that holds many rules together: Healing, researching, building, random encounters, searching, torches, diseases, etc. 

Once you ignore it, everything seems to come crashing down. Maybe this is one of the fundamental ideas of old school play."

Come to think of it, this is much bigger than "old school play" - or even RPGs. 

The interaction between different time scales is an existential question.

If I eat a chocolate now, I will feel good for seconds, and it might take weeks of chocolate to get fat, and months to lose that fat.

To write a book, I have to put an effort for hours and days, and then I'll have it forever (or until the next revision).

A kind word to a loved one might make little difference now, but every moment can eventually add up to me looking differently to the past twenty years.

And ultimately, maybe we have to consider time scales that include more than a lifetime. Maybe PC death is necessary for PC lives to be meaningful; if everything (i.e., the campaign) ends because of a TPK, what difference did the PCs make?

But that is probably a subject for another post.

(Yet another) critical hit system for B/X, AD&D etc.

 It is quite simple:

A) Natural 20 means maximum damage.

B) Beat AC by 10 or more means double damage.

This has several advantages.

"A" gives you a quick, optimal result that is still within the expected boundaries. You can deal maximum damage at any time, but a natural 20 guarantees it. No "whiff factor". The average damage is not significantly impacted.

And "B" gives you:

- The fighter to get a small boost in damage, especially against weak foes, which is good.

- Armor becomes more important - going unarmored is now a terrible idea.

- The thief gains more damage with backstabbing. This is good for B/X but maybe unnecessary for AD&D. OTOH the B/X thief becomes a bit more frail due to light armor and low HP.

Both give more importance to strength bonuses and magic weapons, and even make two-handed 1d10 weapons a bit stronger (although a shield also becomes more important).

But what if both happen at the same time?

There are several solutions.

- Double maximum damage. This would occasionally allow a B/X fighter that usually deals 1d8+2 damage to deal 20 damage with a single blow.

- Double damage, but ONE of the dice is automatically maximum damage (i.e., 1d8+3 becomes 8+1d8+6). I like this solution because the maximum damage is still impressive, but the average is a bit lower.

- Double damage plus another attack. I like this one because it gives the fighter some cleaving.

A caveat: monsters will get more dangerous too.

This is not a HUGE problem IMO; I like dangerous monsters, and with multiple attacks monsters are likely to spread the damage a bit. But it is something to keep in mind.