*sigh* Cavaliers

This post is going to address several "bad ideas" found in the UA;  I mean, might as well get them all out of the way at once, right?

Weapon specialization is a VERY bad idea...it falls under the category of "how much have you been drinking, Gary?" Len Lakofka first introduced the idea of an archery specialist (character class) along with a lot of really crunch missile fire rules in Dragon #45; it's not terrible (we had an archer PC back in the campaign of my youth), but most of the crunch only serves to slow down the game (worrying about whether actions occur at the beginning, middle, or end of a segment? Come on, dude...we don't need to micromanage more than we already do). And it introduced the idea of "point blank range" (*sigh*), to Gygax and got him thinking about OTHER possible types of specialists. Hence, weapon specialization.

One can see the appeal in an existing (long run) campaign: high level fighters are watching all the other character classes get fancy spells and abilities for achieving those 'teen' levels and, yet, they're doing the same-old-same-old since they picked up that frost brand sword back at 6th level; 'where's the love?' they cry. Unfortunately, implementing weapon specialization wrecks the combat economy from the very beginning. A normal party generally has a potential damage output of 4.5 damage per PC (roughly) with the high strength fighter types making up for low damage wizard types. But this goes off the rails with weapon specialization and (especially) double specialization (both available at 1st level). A fighter with an 18+ STR (up to 18/50...achievable for most fighter types) and double specialization in longsword strikes with a +4 to hit and +6 to damage, as well as getting two attacks every other round...a potential average damage output of 21 points in round one (25 against a large sized creature). Average hit points for an ogre are 19...for a bugbear 15. First level fighters should not be able to chop down gnolls and hobgoblins with impunity, and if the DM ups the challenge of monsters thrown at 1st level groups, the other party members (who have the same combat abilities as ever) are far more likely to suffer. Plus PBR rules means that same fighter, even without double specialization had a potential average damage output 34 damage per round, due to double damage and adding STR bonuses (all part of the PBR rules) for shots fired within 30'. Back when we used the UA rules in my youth, we saw a LOT of bow specialists. 

Bad Len. Bad, bad, bad. 

Next terrible idea to discuss is the Method V version of generating ability scores. Ostensibly restricted for human characters, this method of ability generation all but assures you of achieving the scores you need to take whatever particular class you desire to play. Having also used this a bit when the UA first came out, I can tell you the PCs end up having a LOT of high scores, not just in the ones they need...far more so than any of the other methods found in the DMG. Rolling 9, 8, 7, 6, and 5 dice (and taking the best three) for the five most important abilities of a particular class are going to give you much better scores than the DMG's Method I which has you roll 4d6 across the board...and who cares if MV makes you roll 3d6 for one (ONE!) ability score when that ability is, more often-than-not, Comeliness?

Method V appears to have originated in Dragon #63 with the introduction of the barbarian class. Originally, the barbarian had NO minimum ability qualifiers (probably a good thing, considering it's supposed to replace normal man types like the nomad, caveman, tribesman, etc. in the MM), but instead determined its abilities through a new method: 9d6 for STR, 8d6 for CON, 7d6 for DEX, 3d6 for INT and CHA, and 4d4 for WIS. The sea change here, however, is the choosing of the class before rolling the dice (i.e. before seeing if the player has achieved the dice rolls needing to qualify for the class). Gygax discusses this decision in Dragon #67:

A few wondered why a decision to be a barbarian character had to be made prior to rolling dice for attribute scores. The answer is simple: The game is based on role-playing principles, and it is easier to do so with a course determined in the first place. Method I of Generation of Ability Scores encourages the player to choose a character profession from a predisposition rather than dice determined statistics. It is but a step removed from there to deciding on play as a barbarian subclass fighter and rolling dice accordingly. Frank Mentzer suggests that the 4d6 system could be employed with minimum score requirements of 16 strength and constitution, 15 dexterity, and a maximum wisdom of 15. That will work, but it seems to beg the question. Playing as a barbarian is a determined choice, not as one of several possibilities -- or a mere afterthought. This is a part of the whole concept...

...In all truth, the sub-class is not too powerful. It is, in fact, under-powered unless some very good rolls are gained in the areas of strength, dexterity, and constitution. To have real prospects for long-range play, the character must have 18, 16, and 17 respectively. That, Gentle Readers, is why they are given 9d6, 7d7, and 8d6 for those categories. A low-level barbarian has a better than average chance of survival without such high rolls, but at higher level, he or she is not going to do well unless strength, dexterity, and constitution combine to give high hit points, low armor class, and superior punishment potential.

Indeed. So the lesson, Gary, is "don't play a barbarian if you can't roll the high stats," NOT 'give the players the ability to play whatever they want.' Sorry. After 40+ years of game play (more than Gygax had at the time he was writing), I've seen what coddling does to one's game. That ain't the way to go.

So, now we turn our attention to the cavalier...a class that may have had an interesting kernel of an idea, but then worked hard to make it work with these other concepts (like weapon specialization) to its overall detriment.

I mean, that's sugar-coating things. The class is a travesty.

Here's what you get with the cavalier in its FINAL presentation (i.e. as it appears in the UA):

• It is not a subclass of fighter, but its own class...and it puts the paladin subclass beneath its banner (more on this later).
• STR, DEX, CON of 15+, INT and WIS of 10+ to enter; however, Method V in the UA makes these quite easy requirements (with 8d6, 7d6, and 9d6 dice rolls).
• Open to humans, high elves, gray elves, dark elves, and half-elves with NO LEVEL LIMITS. That's right...you don't like being limited to 6th or 8th level fighter? Be a cavalier (who still fights and saves as a fighter), and achieve whatever level you like.
• Hit points start at 1d10+3 at 1st level with D10s up through 10th (note: fighters only go through 9th) with +3 hit points thereafter (same as a fighter).
• Progressive "to hit bonuses" in lance plus two other weapons of choice (one a sword, the other a horseman weapon like a flail or military pick). This bonus starts at +1 and increases by +1 every six levels with no end. This bonus can be used defensively as part of a parry (and can also "parry" with a shield at the same time). Cavaliers may make multiple attacks as a fighter 5 levels higher than their actual level with these weapons of choice. High elves would be advised to select longsword.
• A bunch of horse/riding related skills that no one cares about in a dungeon.
• Each of STR, DEX, and CON are assigned a % number (similar to exceptional strength) and every level the cavalier rolls 2d10 and adds the number to the current percentage; when the number exceeds 00, they move up to the next number, eventually topping out at 18/00 in all three abilities (the percentage doesn't mean anything for DEX and CON, but an 18 is still an 18). How this interacts with the CON reduction from a raise dead/resurrection spell isn't stated, nor if these numbers can exceed racial maximums.
• Immunity to fear, +2 bonus to save versus illusions, a bunch of 90% chances to resist mind-effecting magic, etc.
• Ability to continue functioning at negative hit points (though cannot continue to fight).

All pretty swell, right? Like a fighter except more powerful (and potentially a LOT more powerful). You'd probably be thinking, man, that cavalier cat must need a ton of experience points to level up (as the barbarian does). HA! That's the kicker, son...the cavalier needs LESS x.p. to level up than the 'lowly' fighter...at least into the teens:

9th level --    fighter: 250,001       cavalier: 220,001

10th level --  fighter: 500,001       cavalier: 300,001

11th level --  fighter: 750,001       cavalier: 600,001

12th level --  fighter: 1,000,001    cavalier: 900,001

13th level --  fighter: 1,250,001    cavalier: 1,200,001

14th level --  fighter: 1,500,001    cavalier: 1,500,001

So, sure...after reaching 14th level, the cavalier will need more x.p. per level than the fighter to level up (an extra 50K per). But his 300K per level is still a damn sight faster than the ranger (325K), paladin (350K), or barbarian (500K). And to out-pace the fighter? With all those additional benefits? I mean, just what the hell was Gygax thinking? 

Elf? Probably.

This cavalier class makes the fighter all but meaningless in an AD&D campaign. It wrenches humans from their proper place at the center of the universe and allows elves to be ascendant (what is the incentive to play a human cavalier over a high elf?). Of course, it also radically changes the paladin class (now open to half-elves) giving the pally ALL the abilities of the cavalier PLUS all the abilities of the paladin (listed in the PHB), plus the ability to raise the character's CHA every level in the exact same manner as their STR, DEX, and CON.

This is not a complaint about "power creep;" this is simply stabbing the character economy in the heart with a red-hot (lance) point.

SO, NO. There will be no cavalier in my games, sir...not in the way they are detailed in the UA. Neither will there be any weapon specialization or "point blank range" for missile fire. Nor, will I be using Method V for the generation of ability scores (I remember axing that waaay back in high school...and having fierce arguments with my brother over the subject). No sir!  Method I will (continue to) do us just fine.

However, I might very well include the barbarian class...I'll just remove all minimum ability requirements for entry. You want to be a sickly member of your tribe/village, that's okay by me.

; )

D&D Combat

Good morning! Sorry, it's been a while...last week was busy, as was the weekend, though we did have a chance to get back to our on-going exploration of Dragon Wrack. Unfortunately for the kids, the session didn't end well.

It started well enough: they found the hoard of great the red dragon, Usumgallu, and looted the hell out of it for about an hour (for the adventure module, I created a procedure for searching dragon hoards, given that players generally want to pick out the best bits of these piles; it's in the appendix). Time was of the essence as the approaching Red Wing of the dragon army was close to arriving...had they exited the temple-fortress via the tunnel to the dragon pits outside the city, they would have found themselves quickly barbecued. 

However, they instead decided to go back up to he temple proper and find a different exit, blundering into the Black Wing's color guard standing watch over their army's battle standard. While four elite orcs aren't a match for an eight-strong band of seasoned adventurers, the horns and sounds of combat brought another 40 orcs who completely surprised the party and quickly grappled them...all except the assassin, Salamander, whose 17 dexterity allowed him to react, and whose boots of speed allowed him to escape capture.

Total treasure found: 296,147 g.p. plus a huge assortment of unidentified magic items. However, more than half of that was in a bag of holding that was captured by the orcs. Salamander absconded with the party's other bag of holding (it is his, after all). Diego plans on attempting a rescue of the prisoners (that will be our next session). but he's not terribly thrilled at the prospect.

I wanted to write a bit about running D&D combat, especially AD&D combat. I get a lot of questions on the subject (usually via private email), and have thrown in my two cents on various blogs and forums elsewhere. Combat is not, in my opinion, a very difficult thing to do, but one needs to approach it from the right perspective; the correct mindset, I find, is incredibly helpful.

First off, remember D&D is a game. Hold that firmly in mind. I will elaborate on this in a second, but it's important enough to mention first. 

Second, one has to understand that D&D's roots are literary, not cinematic. It is to be expected (these days) that a lot of people coming to the game form many of their assumptions of fantasy adventure from films and television shows (both live-action and animated) that they have watched.  However, it is not useful to think of D&D combat in terms of what one sees on the screen. Cinematic combat, like all things in a cinematic story, is supposed to exist for one (or both) of two reasons: to develop a character or further the plot. 

[of course, some filmmakers will also do combat simply for entertainment (fan service/expectation, etc.) which is why some combat scenes might be called "gratuitous," but let's not digress too much]

Because cinema is a visual medium, combat needs to be visually interesting, and over the years elaborate choreography has been developed to appeal to an audience that (presumably) has watched countless "fight scenes" over the years and need different, more elaborate or intense, forms of stimulation to maintain the viewers' engagement. Scenes play out with fancy maneuvers, camera zooms on individual 'moves' and actions, each swing of the blade being emphasized, each punch or kick being given attention, slow motion being employed to show the specific tripping or headbutting or individual wound that causes a specific form of pain and suffering.  

It is akin to the comic book form of story telling, where each individual panel is a moment of frozen time, to be lingered over by the reader's eye.

Generally speaking, combat in literature is nothing like this. Whether you're talking Tolkien or Howard or any of the other fantasy/pulp influences on D&D, the literary medium is not a place you will find blow-by-blow combat scenes...certainly not on the scale one finds in TV and film.

"About turn!" [Gandalf] shouted. "Draw your sword Thorin!"

There was nothing else to be done, and the goblins did not like it. They came scurrying around the corner in full cry, and found Goblin-cleaver, and Foe-hammer shining cold and bright right in their astonished eyes. The ones in front dropped their torches and gave one yell before they were killed. The ones behind yelled still more, and leaped back knocking over those running after them. "Biter and Beater!" they shrieked, and soon they were all in confusion, and most of them were hurling back the way they had come.

The Hobbit, Chapter 4 (Tolkien)

He beat the creature off with his hands -- it was trying to poison him, as small spiders do to flies -- until he remembered his sword and drew it out. Then the spider jumped back, and he had time to cut his legs loose. After then it was his turn to attack. The spider was evidently not used to things that carried such stings at their sides, or it would have hurried away quicker. Bilbo came at it before it could disappear and stuck it with his sword right in the eyes. Then it went mad and leaped and danced and flung out its legs in horrible jerks, until he killed it with another stroke....

The Hobbit, Chapter 8 (Tolkien)

Jehungir did not try again. That was his last arrow. He drew his scimitar and advanced, confident in his spired helmet and close-meshed mail. Conan met him half-way in a blinding whirl of swords. The curved blades ground together, sprang apart, circled in glittering arcs that blurred the sight which tried to follow them. Octavia, watching, did not see the stroke, but she heard its chopping impact, and saw Jehungir fall, blood spurting from his side where the Cimmerian's steel had sundered his mail and bitten to his spine.

The Devil In Iron (Howard)

Shifting his reddened scimitar to his left hand, he drew the great half-blade of the Yuetshi. Khosatral Khel was towering above him, his arms lifted like mauls, but as the blade caught the sheen of the sun, the giant gave back suddenly. 

But Conan's blood was up. He rushed in, slashing with the crescent blade. And it did not splinter. Under its edge the dusky metal of Khosatral's body gave way like common flesh beneath a cleaver. From the deep gash flowed a strange ichor, and Khosatral cried out like the dirging of a great bell. His terrible arms flailed down, but Conan, quicker than the archers who had died beneath those awful flails, avoided their strokes and struck again and yet again. Khosatral reeled and tottered; his cries were awful to hear, as if metal were given a tongue of pain, as if iron shrieked and bellowed under torment.

Then wheeling away he staggered into the forest; he reeled in his gait, crashed through bushes and caromed off trees. Yet though Conan followed him with the speed of hot passion, the walls and towers of Dagon loomed through the trees before the man came within dagger-reach of the giant.

Then Khosatral turned again, flailing the air with desperate blows, but Conan, fired to berserk fury, was not to be denied. As a panther strikes down a bull moose at bay, so he plunged under the bludgeoning arms and drove the crescent blade to the hilt under the spot where a human's heart would be.

Khosatral reeled and fell.

The Devil Iron (Howard)

Five Picts were dancing about them with fantastic leaps and bounds, waving bloody axes; one of them brandished the woman's red-smeared gown. 

At the sight a red haze swam before Balthus. Lifting his bow he lined the prancing figure, black against the fire, and loosed. The slayer leaped convulsively and fell dead with the arrow through his heart. Then the two men and the dog were upon the startled survivors. Conan was animated merely by his fighting spirit and an old, old racial hate, but Balthus was afire with wrath. 

He met the first Pict to oppose him with a ferocious swipe that split the painted skull, and sprang over his falling body to grapple with the others. But Conan had already killed one of the two he had chosen, and the leap of the Aquilonian was a second late. The warrior was down with the long sword through him even as Balthus' ax was lifted. Turning toward the remaining Pict, Balthus saw Slasher rise from his victim, his great jaws dripping blood.

Balthus said nothing as he looked down at the pitiful forms in the road beside the burning wain. 

Beyond the Black River, Chapter 6 (Howard)

I could go on, of course, citing other examples. I'm currently reading E.C. Tubb's Dumarest saga, a series of science fiction books that seem to have been a major influence on Marc Miller's Traveller game (I am considering starting a classic Traveller campaign and want some inspiration). Reading these old SciFi pulps from the 60s and 70s, one finds plenty of action (Dumarest is a pretty beefy action hero) is less "dripping blood" than in Howard's Conan stuff, but it's still pretty good adventure fiction. It is also well devoid of blow-by-blow tactical exchanges. The specific details of fights are glossed over, unimportant: "they attacked." "he struggled." "the enemy fell, dead." Etc. And then the book goes back to the story, the adventure, at hand.

D&D comes from a literary tradition. It is not D&D's fault that people don't read like they used to; it's not D&D's fault that people discover fantasy through a movie or cartoon instead of a book. But it is OUR fault, if we make the mistake of wanting combat in D&D to be as elaborate and cinematic as we see in an episode of Game of Thrones, and feel disappointed by what the game offers.

Again, back to my first point: D&D is a game. It is NOT a game of combat...it is a game of fantasy adventure. Combat is an important aspect of fantasy adventure: you see this in the literary medium which spawned D&D. Thus, one needs specific rules for running combat. However, combat in and of itself is not the be-all, end-all of the genre. It is just one aspect, and requires only as much importance as what it gets.

Thus, we have D&D (or, for my purposes, AD&D) combat. We have attack rolls and damage rolls and hit points. We have initiative. We have surprise. We have lists of armor and weapons, and we have rules for minor tactical maneuvers: charging, attacking people that flee, auto-hits on characters that have been paralyzed by magic effects, etc. It is not an elaborate game of strike, parry, dodge, roll with punch, strike for weak spots, etc...it is an abstract system for resolving fights quickly and simply. Because that's what it emulates. You want that other stuff, go play Palladium (Kevin Siembieda was a comic book guy FIRST, and it shows in his system). You want realism with regard to death and dismemberment, go play 1st edition Stormbringer (which wonderfully emulates the non-heroic literature of Moorcock's fiction). That's not what D&D is. 

Heroic. Fantasy. Adventure. Game. 

Characters fight until they're dead, they flee, they surrender, or they're victorious. That's it. And then...back to the adventure. Back to what's going on. In a game of "resource management," hit points are the characters' most important resource...because when they're done, you're done.

Mm. Of course my players had plenty of hit points remaining when they were captured. I suppose hit points and brains are the players' most important resources, followed closely by luck. Guess I should have said "hit points are the characters' most important measurable resource." Yeah, that makes more sense.

All right...that's enough for now.

Making Things Too Hard

All right. Tax season is over (for me, anyway). And the house got (mostly) cleaned yesterday. And I have time before my next engagement (volleyball practice...our team made the playoffs!). How 'bout if I throw folks a D&Dish blog post? For a change.

SO...over at the CAG discord, recent converts to AD&D are still a bit kerfuffled when it comes to grokking the combat system...which is, you know, kind of an important bit to get straight. D&D is a game that features violence, and the largest section of systems pertains directly to running combat: if you're a new DM, having a grasp of how combat works is IMPERATIVE to running the game smoothly.

My game tends to run fairly smooth, so how about if I offer my take?

[yes, this post is for AD&D newbies. Old grogs who have altered/kit-bashed/deciphered their own mechanics for a smooth game...well, there might not be much for you here]

Let's start with the bare basics:

• Combat is divided into one minute rounds; each round is composed of ten segments of six seconds. These minutes and seconds are "game time" and can thus be abstracted and (in some cases) safely ignored. Remember that game time is elastic and is there to help bring order to chaos. It is your FRIEND.
• A combat will occur between two or more sides. In the vast majority of cases there are only TWO sides: the players (working together) and the DM played antagonists (working together). 
• BEFORE initiative is determined, the players declare their characters' actions. I also (usually) allow the players to declare what their NPC henchfolk are doing, since they are (presumably) receiving shouted orders from the players. The DM decides what the other NPCs (generally, antagonists) are doing, but need not declare their actions to the players; however, I will usually give the players a general idea (the trolls are charging, the wizard is casting a spell, the goblins continue to fire arrows, etc.) AFTER the players have declared their characters' actions.
• Each side gets to roll 1d6 to determine initiative. It doesn't matter if the player's side has four PCs or 20 the assorted henchfolk. It doesn't matter if the party faces a dozen tasloi backed by yuan-ti commanders or a passel of Drow cavalry on riding spiders with bugbear foot soldiers and a mind flayer commander. One d6 per side determines each side's order in the round. The initiative roll is made after declarations. The roll is made at the beginning of every round and the initiative winner may (and probably will) vary from round to round.
• Generally speaking the side that won initiative (by rolling a higher number on the d6) performs their declared actions first. After they've finished, any survivors of the side that lost initiative performs their declared actions (if still able to do so). If there are still multiple sides wanting to continue combat at the conclusion of the round then a new combat round is started: declarations are made, initiative dice are rolled, and play proceeds.

Pretty straightforward and simple. At this point the most complicated part for the DM is just remembering what everyone's going to do as you work through the round. Fortunately, the players are usually pretty good about remembering their own actions ("Lisa, roll to attack." "No I said I was drinking my potion, remember?" "Oh yeah, sorry!") and with groups of creatures I usually have them performing the same action (all the goblins charge, while all the bugbears shoot arrows, for example)...group think, you know? However, I also keep a notebook and pencil handy to...um...make notes. Good as a memory jogger.

SO, simple. However, there are three things...all designed to add complexity and depth to the Advanced game) that trip folks up, causing them to throw up their hands and run for a Basic edition in panic. These three categories (which I've named myself) are: circumventing actions, extended actions, and simultaneous initiative. I will explain each of these in order or (what I consider to be) complexity, from least to greatest.

SIMULTANEOUS INITIATIVE:

When two sides roll the same number on their initiative dice, there's no re-roll...instead, all actions occur simultaneously! Yes, this means that two combatants might kill each other in the same round! This is fun! Interesting stuff happening in battle makes AD&D combat interesting!

But also: remember that "weapon speed factor" from the PHB? This is where that becomes important. On a tied die result (which, for the record, has a probability of happening one time in six...not too often, but often enough) between combatants in melee using weapons, the weapon with the lower speed factor gets to strike first...and sometimes gets to strike multiple times! This is awesome! It makes one's choice of weapon more meaningful than just its damage dice. It provides a real advantage to fighters who can learn a variety of weapons. If the slower weapon's speed is FIVE points higher than that of the faster...such as a scimitar (4) to a halberd (9)...or FOUR points higher in the case of a dagger versus anything...then you get two attacks before the slow guy gets their first. That's fantastic.

[in the rare instance where you have a speed factor difference of 10+...only occurring with an awl pike against a dagger, jo stick, or short sword...the faster character receives a third, simultaneous, attack]

Note: this only comes up when both combatants are A) in melee, B) using weapons (not claws/bite), and C) tie the initiative roll. But...it adds a little spice.

EXTENDED ACTIONS:

AD&D is an advanced game and deals with the logistics of both space and time. Extended actions are actions that take a longer time to function simply making an attack roll. These fall into three main categories: movement (over distance), item usage, and spell-casting. Each of these take more time than punching someone in the face (or stabbing them in the belly), and can change when someone's action in the round actually occurs...this is the purpose of those ten, six-second segments. 

Segments are your FRIENDs: they bring order to chaos.

At the beginning of an encounter, the DM sets the stage explaining where all the combatants are in relation to each other; this is why we use maps with scales. Closing distance for melee combatants requires movement, and movement eats time...or, in this case, segments. Each character has a movement rate based on either A) encumbrance, B) armor worn, or C) their entry in the Monster Manual. The standard AD&D scale is 1" = 10'; since movement is a number given in inches per combat round (9", 12", etc.) and scale is generally 10' per square, it's easy to see how far a character can move in a given combat round. If my fighter is 40' from the goblin he wants to hew, I know (from his 6" movement) that he'll be able to get there in this round (since he moves 60' per round)...the question is: when? Fortunately, his movement is easily divided by 10 (10 segments in the round), so I know he moves 6' per segment and my rudimentary math skills tell me that 40' can be covered in seven segments, roughly...or FASTER (twice that speed in a dungeon) if he charges, which he can do once every ten minutes (rounds). Electing to charge, my fighter would reach that goblin in four segments, or three if the DM is generous (especially given the 4' length of his bastard sword, however some might only require a 30' charge distance anyway, given the note on DMG p.66). 

Likewise, magic items have a usage time (given in segments) and AD&D spells have a casting time (given in segments, rounds, or turns). A potion takes effect 2-5 segments after imbibed, rods/staves/wands take from 1-3 segments (per the item's description), and scrolls take the same length of time as the spell it casts.

But...okay: understanding that some actions take longer than others is simple enough. How does that interact with initiative?

Well, here's the thing: MOST OF THE TIME, it doesn't matter when in the round your action occurs. Your cleric is trying to turn the zombies? Your dwarf wants to cut down the hobgoblin he's standing next to? Just roll the initiative dice and high roll goes first. BUT if you have an extended action, THEN it becomes important when that extended action starts. That is, it becomes important on which segment of the round is your side's "go." ESPECIALLY, if you want to interrupt a spell-caster's casting.

Okay...deep breath: the wining side goes on the segment equal to the loser's initiative die roll; the losing side goes on the segment equal to the winner's die roll.  If the evil wizard rolls a 4 for initiative, and your fighter rolls a 2, then the wizard's one segment magic missile spell fires in segment 2, and your fighter gets his/her "go" in segment 4. I choose to ignore the bit about comparing weapon speed factor to casting time (DMG p.67) because A) it is apples to oranges (we don't compare WSF to claws/bites), and B) it's already easy enough to disrupt spells given casting time (extended action!) without delaying a caster's "go."

CIRCUMVENTING ACTIONS:

These are actions that ignore or (rather) circumvent initiative altogether. Remember charging? Well, if a combatant chooses to charge, their attack no longer becomes dependent on the initiative roll. Same in the case of a character that decides to initiate an unarmed (pummeling, grappling, or overbearing) attack. Same in the case of characters with extra attack routines, whether due to magic (a haste spell) or being a higher level (in the case of fighters with multiple attacks). There aren't a whole lot of these, but the complication is that they all have their own, individual spot rules that must be remembered.

Charging for instance: initiative no longer determines first strike; instead, the weapon with the longer length goes first. If you charge a row of spearmen with naught but a dagger, they get to make their attack rolls prior to you REGARDLESS of the initiative die roll. 

Multiple attack routines (such as a fighter with extra attacks or an archer shooting multiple arrows) perform their action both before AND after their opponent's initiative. If both combatants have multiple attack routines, than initiative is diced as normal and the two combatants alternate attacks.

Unarmed combatants (effectively) surrender initiative when attacking an armed attacker, who may make a successful attack roll to drive the character away (fend them off) while still doing damage. 

Psionic attacks occur lightning fast (the speed of thought, etc.) treating segments as rounds, and resolving prior to other actions in the round.

Some creatures always attack first (quicklings, if I remember right) or last (like zombies) due to excessive speed of slowness. Some spells (haste and slow, for instance) have similar impact on combatants initiative order.

Hmm...maybe one or two more incidents of circumventing action that I'm forgetting at the moment.  ANYway...

ALL THESE THINGS INTERACT TOGETHER. The fighters charge the slow-moving zombies, while the second rank archers unleash multiple volleys at the necromancer attempting to conjure a demon, while the cleric is exercising a turn attempt and the wizard uses her wand. To the outside, this makes AD&D combat appear to be incredibly complex and fiddly. However, in practice, it all works rather seamlessly, so long as you remember the basics (declare actions, roll initiative) and then take the individual exceptions piece-by-piece. In practice, with practice, it is as smooth and easy to run as Basic D&D, yet with far more depth and richness.  And because of the way the game scales over time, the combat system is both functional and intense from novice up into the highest levels of game play, with little noticeable "slowdown"...not something that can be said for later (3+) editions of the Dungeons & Dragons game.

It's really not as hard as people speculate. Don't let it intimidate you or psyche you out. The 1E game was designed to be fast and furious; it was designed to be fun. And it IS those things, all of them. 

All right...back to the grind. Hope this helps some people. Feel free to leave questions in the comments.

; )

Punching Through The Sentinel

A couple weeks ago, I decided to start running AD&D (Advanced Dungeons & Dragons, i.e. "first edition") again. My players are my children, ages 9 and 6. They, of course, are far too young to really parse out the rules, but since I'm the Dungeon Master I can simply ask them what they want to do and then tell them what dice to roll. Isn't that how everyone plays D&D these days?

So far, the players have been remarkably fortunate: neither has lost a character, despite occasional missteps. They've also made remarkable progress as far as advancement: the elven fighter just reached 4th level, and the halfling fighter/thief is 2nd/3rd (and only a couple hundred x.p. short of leveling up). They do remain rather "cash poor" and their cache of magic items (a single +1 dagger and a suit of leather armor +1) is rather light, but they are otherwise doing all right. Heck, they've even acquired a pair of henchmen (a half-elf fighter and an elven magic-user); hopefully, they'll last longer than the last two they had.

[both were gored to death by perytons]

My DMG has been getting a workout this week...my fingers have seen more flipping-and-turning then any time in the last twenty years (I suspect it was more back in my 3E days, but I can't say for sure). I've used the poison rules, the unarmed combat rules, hirelings and henchmen, training and advancement, character expenses, animal pelts, item saving throws, overland movement (mounted and non-), morale and loyalty, x.p. for magic items, two weapon fighting, cost for NPC spell use, negative hit points...and probably a couple other things I'm forgetting at the moment. However, it's been a LOT more than my B/X and OD&D games of recent years...enough so that I've found myself prepping (i.e. reading and researching) my DMG many mornings, trying to stay "ahead of the curve" for the coming exploits of the day (we're still on vacation over here).

It's been glorious. 

Part of this I'll credit to the adventure module I'm using: UK2 The Sentinel (by Graeme Morris) is pretty good, really showcasing a lot of the bits and pieces from the AD&D game that sometimes gets glossed over. Illusionist magic, ingestive poisons, humanoid shamans, disease, wilderness movement through multiple terrain types, and a profound lack of ready-made NPC hirelings...all these things have forced me to re-familiarize myself with stuff I haven't thought about in years. And I admit I've quite missed the potential for this level of detail.

Uh-oh.

But the other part has just been trying to find ways to make sure my inexperienced players are getting an even break. For a low-level adventure, The Sentinel has many difficult parts...especially considering the number of encounters requiring magical weapons. Those perytons are pretty much unavoidable, and they are vicious, vicious creatures...their +2 attack bonus means they hit like a troll, and they average 10 damage per attack. Morris seems to be assuming that most parties will have a several magic weapons by the time they reach the encounter (unavoidable, as said, because of its location); the module's "suggested character roster" includes four permanent magic weapons, a quiver of magic arrows, and a wand of magic missiles. My players didn't have a single magic item prior to starting the adventure, despite being 2nd level. 

Still, they've somehow managed to muddle through.

[*24 hours later*]

A half day of gaming later, and the kids are STILL alive, though they did lose another henchperson. Actually, they're quite well: the halfling has advanced to level 3rd / 4th (or will have once she completes her training) the party has acquired a second magic weapon (a hand axe +1) and the henchwoman magic-user secured TWO new spell books.

Money remains an issue. Total party wealth is just under 2,700 gold pieces, much of which is tied up in high priced gems and jewelry. This is a problem because the territory of Berghoff (the module's mini-sandbox) consists of a half dozen small villages, most with less than 500 inhabitants) doesn't have the kind of infrastructure to change treasure for currency. Of course, there's little to buy in these towns anyway and (or more pressing concern to the players) little manpower of "adventuring" variety to be hired. That supply has been nearly exhausted...the elf (my son's character) is making the 100 mile roundtrip journey to the farthest northern town ("Hallbridges") in hopes of finding more mercenaries. Rough.

It's just interesting (amusing?) because I can vividly recall conversations with players back when I was running a B/X campaign about how "useless" treasure was because there was "nothing to buy." Huh. Well, even in a town that boasts little in the way of shops or goods, there's always something to spend money on. Sofia's character hasn't gotten around to buying a cart yet, but it's only a matter of time (she's purchased one in every game we've played prior - Holmes, B/X, and OD&D - so there's no reason to think she won't eventually get around to it). And the hiring and equipping of henchmen has turned into nearly as big a cash sink as training costs.

Which is great! Because it keeps the party hungry and on the move. 

That being said, it's pushing me to fill out more of my "campaign world." The kids have gotten to a point where they need larger population centers (which I don't have). They've been unable to find the thief an actual trainer in these little villages (doubling the halfling's training time) and now they're asking where they can find a cleric capable of raising the dead. I have no answers for these queries. But I will...eventually...and I'm looking forward to seeing where the AD&D process takes me.

Problem's been, it's been hard to get a "breather" just to plan that far ahead. But (as of today) "vacation" has ended and the kids are back in school (much as they can be) and I should have time to fill in some of these gaps. Maybe even put together some cheat sheets to help me with run the game without all the page flipping...a few playing aids would go a long way to improving the game's delivery. 

But we're enjoying ourselves. I'm enjoying myself. I'm not worrying about the fiddly-ness or weirdness of the rules; I'm just trying to run them. And so far, challenging or not, the game has been a pleasure to run.  I forgot just how much I like this edition. 

All right, that's it for now. Kid needs my laptop.

[by the way, the title of this post comes from the fact that we've now been required to use the infamous unarmed combat rules from the AD&D DMG on multiple occasions...and it's worked! That is to say, excess fiddle aside, it doesn't derail the game, and it's fairly fun (watching the halfling throw herself against the legs of a half-orc and bounce off was darn amusing). In my youth, I used the much simplified unarmed rules found in the Unearthed Arcana, but that was mostly because they were easier to parse; since I'm older, wiser, and definitely not inclined to open the UA these days, the DMG version seems just fine]

***posted Tuesday due to unforeseen computer delays***

Regulating Chaos

*sigh* Down the rabbit hole again...

I've been doing a lot of "work" on movement and encumbrance the last few days. Turns out, I'm just not satisfied with the rules as written.

Which rules, JB? Well, here I'm mainly considering OD&D, AD&D, and B/X. Holmes Basic has the fewest rules on encumbrance and movement, but may actually be closer to accurate.

Why does any of this matter, JB? Okay, it probably doesn't matter especially. Dungeons & Dragons is a game, and playability is as important...if not more so...than accuracy. "Playability" doesn't necessarily mean "easy," but it does have to promote a challenging, engaging experience for the players. We provide challenge so that the game does not become so easy as to become tedious. We provide engagement to spark interest so that players care and bring their "A" game to the table.

I wrote about the importance of encumbrance to the game a couple weeks ago. Encumbrance provides a third dimension to game play. Folks aren't just worried about choice of weapon and armor for how much it costs them (in imaginary gold coins), but about how it impacts their character's movement and ability to carry other gear/treasure. Without encumbrance, "cost" eventually fades (experienced adventurers have plenty of imaginary gold and often acquire magical equipment for "free" anyway), and "choice" is limited to a question of "effectiveness" (i.e. what weapon does the most damage, what armor gives the best protection)...which is too easy a challenge to provide engagement to a mature, seasoned player. Fine for kids, not so much for adults.

[yes, yes story gamers...y'all don't care about "accounting exercises." You play a different version of D&D from what I do. This post isn't for you]

So how do encumbrance rules, when used (they are OPTIONAL in the B/X system, probably because it was scaled for kids), impact the game?

1. The rules restrict what gear can be carried by a player's character by placing a hard limit on carrying capacity. This requires players to make choices as to what is necessary for an adventure, especially as acquiring treasure is the objective, and treasure found will need to be carried as well.
2. The rules restrict movement in two different ways: First,  it restricts the distance that can be covered over time, which creates more opportunity for wandering monsters to appear (wandering monsters being a drain on party resources while providing no great reward...they don't carry treasure!). Second, it reduces the distance one can move in encounter situations, impacting the ability to maneuver and, thus, succeed at tactical objectives (whether that means destroying one's opponents or fleeing to fight another day).

Note: there are some adventures where rule situation #1 doesn't apply: in many time-sensitive missions (say, rescue the hobbit captives from the orcs, deliver the message of the impending invasion, destroy an evil artifact before it falls into the wrong hands, etc.) acquiring treasure isn't a goal. As such, rule impact #2 (limiting movement) must still be important...or even more prominent!...in order to provide the appropriate degree of stress to the challenge.

Here's the thing, though: being encumbered doesn't have nearly the impact on an individual's movement as the rules state.

Let's be perfectly clear. I am, by my own admission, both overweight and not in fantastic shape...not even good shape, really. The rest of my family (especially my skinny, athlete son) is in far better shape...and none of them are carrying the extra belly and jowl fat I am. Even so, I can still outrun, out-hike, and out-bike them. On the soccer field, my kid can do all sorts of fancy moves and has a dead hard shot, but I can still outmaneuver him...and out-quick him...to beat him in one-on-one games (and my victories are even more decisive when we play on a larger field, rather than our front yard). I'm bigger, stronger, and faster, despite being an old fat man with bad knees, a bad ankle, and back pain.

Unencumbered, I can advance in a straight line, weapon(s) in hand(s), and cover 40' of ground in approximately ten seconds. If I do a "controlled charge" (i.e. moving as quickly as I can to engage, while taking care not to trip over my own feet or impale myself on something), I can cover the same ground in half the time (approximately 5 seconds). Having actually worn armor a time or two in the past, I know that it would not affect my ability to walk hardly at all, and would only slightly impact my ability to charge...probably not enough to make a substantial difference, especially in an actual combat situation with adrenaline pumping through my veins.

How do I get these figures? I spent a couple day running simulations with my kids. Yes, folks, all sorts of Covid entertainment at the JB household. My boy, by the way (who's a foot and a half shorter than me), advances and charges at about the same rate, maybe slightly slower due to stride length.

But let's talk encumbrance, shall we? I had the kids fill their backpacks with all sorts of "adventuring equipment" in order to run tests on speed and movement. The original impetus for this was wanting to see how fast one could retrieve a specific item from a filled pack in a chaotic, stressful environment (like combat) because I'm tinkering with the combat turn ("round") structure of my game. However, my kids were "all in" on this experiment and insisted on outfitting themselves in full-on regalia, including armor, weapons, etc. The results were interesting.

[I took pictures, but my spouse does not want me posting photos of the kids on Ye Old Blog. Not that this stops her from putting their pix on Facebook, but whatever...]

Not my children...just
some kids on pinterest.

My boy's "kit" included multiple layers of padding and plastic "armor," a shield, a wooden sword (long sword equivalent), a bow (no quiver), helmet (plastic), and a 20# backpack. My daughter was wearing an ankle length wizard robe (over clothes), pointy wizard hat, along with a 15# backpack (contents included a thick hardcover to represent her "spell book"); in my daughter's hands she carried a (plastic) sword and an actual camp lantern (battery operated). Although the weight was only a small fraction of what a "real" adventurer would carry, the bulk was certainly equivalent. And the weight they were carrying was more than a third their actual body weight...closer to 40% for Sofia. If I had been proportionately geared, I would have been carrying closer to 70#. And, of course, actual mail weighs a lot more than my kids' thin plastic and padding.

However, even burdened as they were, the kids weren't especially slower. What they were was uncomfortable and in pain from shlepping so much weight on thin shoulders. They couldn't wait to shrug off their backpacks...which they were able to do fairly quickly given a "combat situation" (me shouting "go" and starting the stopwatch). Carrying a bunch of weight...especially weight they're unused to and untrained to carry...did NOT slow them substantially. But it DID tire them out...cue my typical rant about the lack of proper fatigue rules in D&D.

That's my takeaway from our "experiments:" Movement is far more affected by bulk and distribution of gear than from actual weight carried or an individual's strength. It's tough to move quickly when you're worried about tipping over from an unbalanced pack. Or (as my daughter told me) "I actually run faster with my backpack because it pushes me forward!"

[this appears to be a literal truth; walking WITH his pack (only), Diego shaved half a second off his time...same when he was running]

But fatigue IS real...despite being faster and stronger than my family members, the old man gets tired. My son can play soccer all day (comparatively), whereas I cash in my chips a lot sooner. Likewise, my wife doesn't run the 5Ks half-marathons she used to, but she can still go twice as many laps around Green Lake (at least!) as yours truly...though to be honest, I was never a fan of distance running. Ever.

SO...how to model this in the D&D game? Well, what does the D&D game model anyway? Depends on which edition you're tweaking. Assuming a 10 second combat round (as in B/X), 40' per round (encounter speed for a 12" movement) seems plenty fair. The OTHER speeds, though (30', 20', 10' for 9", 6", and 3" movement, respectively), seem grossly inaccurate. Even for a fat adventurer.

Where do these movement rates come from? From OD&D originally...although the idea of a 10 second round is from Holmes Basic ("Each turn is ten minutes except during combat where there are ten melee rounds per turn, each round lasting ten seconds."). But as with many of the mechanical bits found in OD&D, these rates are adapted directly from the Chainmail wargame.

Chainmail provides rules for "medieval miniatures." It uses a time scale consisting of 1 minute turns (just like the combat turns of OD&D and the combat rounds of AD&D) and a distance scale of 1" being equal to 10 yards. Different movement rates are given for different troop types in Chainmail; for example, "heavy footmen" can move 9" (12" when charging), while "armored footmen" only move 6" (whether charging or not). All reports of Gygax state that he was a voracious reader that enjoyed researching old history books for information to add to his games (in an age where there was no internet), but games that attempt to regulate the chaos of war require a certain amount of abstraction to ensure playability...it is difficult to know, just from reading Chainmail, what was thought to be an accurate model and what was considered an expedient necessity.

Attempting to find field movement rates for medieval troops using the internet alone has been difficult. Most rates are given only in miles per day which, admittedly, is probably more than most people need for their history lessons (it's enough to know who fought whom and where and how many died). However, what IS clear is that with regard to troop movement (soldiers marching in groups), distance traveled over time comes down to a combination of organization, discipline, and baggage carried, coupled with the terrain traversed. Ancient troops could make 10-25 miles per day with decent (Roman) roads, while medieval foot troops (up through the 17th century) only moved 7-15 miles per day. A troop could be "forced marched" at double that rate, but risked being too fatigued to fight effectively upon reaching their destination.  Medieval soldiers generally marched in their armor and carried at least a hand weapon or two; gear (everything else a soldier might need) was "baggage," carried in carts or hauled by a soldier's wife or girlfriend (camp follower). But none of that tells me how far or fast the soldier could move on the battlefield...and anyway, battlefield movement would have been in formation, with a pace set by the force commander and the necessities of battle.

Gygax's Chainmail movements appear to be an estimation based in part on how one assumes these forces to behave as a troop/group. Light footmen include peasants, noted as being "unreliable" and "unwilling" warriors: they only move 9" (12" charging) despite probably having the lightest loads (in terms of arms and armor)...of course they would be an undisciplined mass to bring to a battle. Armored footmen with their 6" movement includes "dismounted knights;" Chainmail notes that "feudal knights were ill-disciplined and generally refused to take orders from anyone -- even their liege lord;" presumably by the time they were dismounted the battlefield mud would have already been churned up, making the footing even more difficult. Meanwhile, the fearsome Landsknechte troops are given a move of 12" (charge 15") apparently to model their superior discipline and training...this despite many of their troops (certainly the zweihander-armed frontliners) being dressed in plate armor!

Wives have advantages
over other henchmen.

A party of D&D adventurers...even one with a number of retainers and henchfolk...isn't the same as an unwieldy mass of hundreds or thousands of troops. Training and discipline should be assumed to be at least as good as elite mercenaries and house troops...this is, after all, what the PCs are supposed to be. In Chainmail, both heroes and superheroes (the basis for the 4th and 8th level fighters respectively) have movement of 12" (charge 15") regardless of armor worn.  Wizards (of any level), likewise have a move of 12" (though no charge). When mounted, these fantasy fighters have the same movement as medium horseman...again, regardless of armor. To me, it's clear something other than encumbrance is being used in these calculations.

The D&D movement rates are even more strange when used in conjunction with dungeon or "exploration" movement...in ANY edition of the game. There are many subterranean caves and cavern trails available for hiking in the United States, most with surfaces and elevation changes far more difficult and treacherous than the smooth 10' by 10' corridors found in your average D&D adventure. Trail times seem to be pretty universal: individuals can expect to hike about 1.25 miles per hour in such environments. The most difficult "hike" I could find on the internet was the Wild Cave Tour at Mammoth Cave in Kentucky. This physically grueling tour requires hikers to spend a lot of time crawling on their belly, wriggling through tight spaces, traversing sharp, uneven terrain, and dealing with water and subterranean canyons. It is guided by professionals and there are breaks (for rests, instruction, and lunch), but even so it's a six mile tour that requires six hours to complete.

Not a 10' x 10' corridor.

How fast is that in D&D terms? Well, one mile is 5,280 feet, so that would be our hourly "rate" of travel. Assuming the usual five (ten minute) turns of movement followed by one (ten minute) turn of rest, we can see the party making about 1,056 feet per turn; there is, presumably, no "running" during the tour, but no mapping necessary either (since the party has an experienced guide). With normal caution being exercised we can translate that to game movement as follows:

OD&D: 52" (two moves per turn)
AD&D: 21" (rate of travel divided by 5 for "following a known route")
B/X: 106" (158" if movement rate considered 2/3 for being "broken terrain")

Even presuming "unencumbered" movement (hikers aren't carrying any more than a hardhat, flashlight, and sack lunch), these rates far outstrip the 12" movement rate found in the D&D texts. The speed is more than double the rate given by Holmes for an "unarmored, unencumbered man" that is "moving normally" in a dungeon (480' per turn). An adventuring party moving this slowly and this cautiously should probably be discovering every trip wire and loose flagstone in the dungeon!

So, yeah. Movement rates as given are too slow, and carrying a bunch of weight doesn't make you all that slower if all you're doing is walking/marching. What encumbrance does is tire you out (fatigue) making rest more important.

I spent a lot of time yesterday watching videos of Medieval MMA and IMCF combat. Despite the limitations of sport combat, I find these to be instructional especially this M-1 championship bout in Moscow. Three minutes of fighting per round, followed by one minute of rest, and both these dudes are completely gassed after three rounds. And they are, presumably, wearing lighter gear than a true medieval warrior and have all the benefits of modern sport science (including nutrition and cross-training regimes). Turns out that Chainmail's fatigue rules seem a fairly close approximation of how melee (by itself or in combination with movement) can tire you out...even for lightly armored fighters (who would, I assume, need to work twice as hard as their heavier armored counterparts).

Beating on each other just plumb tuckers you.

Yes, yes, I know...everyone hates fatigue rules. And we already have an (imperfect) model of fatigue in the form of hit points. And, in the end, this discussion seems to be aimed in the direction of rebuilding the game from the ground up, which is really NOT what I want to do.

I just want something that won't bug me and be a constant source of irritation.

But let's go back to the premise here: the rules as written provide two different means of challenging/engaging the players of the D&D game: they add an extra consideration to choices made with regard to logistics (carrying these iron spikes and a crossbow are going to cut down on how much loot I can haul), and affect the character's ability to maneuver tactically (not only in combat, but in evasion/pursuit situations). Both become an issue of resource management, the particular resource being time...precious time that will necessitate additional wandering monster checks that carry the possibility of fatal attrition for little/zero reward. Game-wise, these are not rules to chuck with abandon, as they are fairly imperative to running the game in the manner intended!

Still, as mentioned, logistics become far less important when characters have a mission that promises reward after the adventure (return the captives and get paid! Bring me the head of the bugbear chieftain to the Duke for a chest of gold! Etc.)...and even less so as characters rise in level and acquire gear that offsets logistics (the sword +3 that is unbreakable, the flaming sword that takes the place of torches, the slippers of spider climbing that replace 10 pounds of rope, the decanter of endless water, etc.). When logistics fail to matter, only tactical issues need be considered...and time can continue to be a manageable resource with the use of fatigue and mandated rests. More so, it becomes an additional area of player engagement if parties can choose between RISK (pressing their luck, losing effectiveness by acquiring fatigue) in exchange for REWARD (making better time, rolling fewer encounter checks).

Sorry, folks, but this is a line of thought I want to continue following for now. I'll probably have at least one more post on the subject (in which I'll lay down some concrete rules for "testing"), but it's important to me to get this stuff right. NOT because it is so all important to be accurate or "realistic" in modeling this stuff...but because, well, hmm.

Because (I suppose) it's important to not be wrong. I say hit points are an abstract measure of staying power and that's fine and dandy; that's defining a game mechanic (we're not trying to model rules for broken bones and pints of blood in the body). I say 15 gold pieces buy a decently-made sword and that is fine, too...that's the fantasy economy in this particular region at this particular point in time.

But I say a human with a 40# sack of gear only moves a certain distance at a brisk pace, well, then it better be damn close to the laws of reality. Because time and distance and weight on a planet with Earth's gravity is something that can be measured. And because D&D isn't a board game, and it's not a wargame, and we're attempting to simulate an experience, there's SOME reason why carrying heavy stuff is detrimental, but it better be a real reason...and not a "wrong" reason, not just for the sake of adding options. The choices have to be valid, and valid choices do exist...so why not use them?

All right, that's enough. I've been writing this for four days, and it's time to get on to the next thing.

Grappling with Stuff

How many pages? That's the question that's been in my head the last couple days.

[yes, there will be some ACTUAL grappling discussion...at the end of this post...just give me a minute while I wrestle with THIS for a moment]

How many pages does it take to teach someone how to play an RPG? Specifically Dungeons & Dragons, though I suppose one could apply the question to any role-playing game. Most RPGs I've read (and I've owned and read A LOT) provide precious little info on what an RPG is, let alone how to run it. Instead, they throw a wall of text at the reader mixing an odd amount of instruction with "fluff" (setting/genre specific flavor)...as if these two things, blended in the proper proportion, will (through some strange alchemical process) yield the game you want to play.

That's not enough, in my learned opinion. And yet it's often too much as well.

OD&D is a fairly simple game, rules-wise. Very simple as far as procedures go. Roll a D20 when making an attack (or save) and consult a chart to determine success. Characters (player and non-) have certain amounts of resources that are depleted through use (spells, hit points, arrows, torches, rations, etc.). Certain actions acquire points (XP); charts tell you the reward for obtaining certain numbers of points (extra resources in the form of hit points and spells; extra effectiveness for attacks and saves). There are some additional exploration procedures (finding/opening doors and traps, wandering monsters, surprise) mostly handled with a six-sided die, but it mostly comes down to resource management via risk/reward.

All the trappings of the game...monsters, spells, treasure and magic items, purchasable equipment and fortifications...are subject to customization by the referee. As such, they're pretty unnecessary for inclusion in the game (save as examples). And this has been proven upteen times simply by the way DMs have modified all these things SINCE THE BEGINNING of the game. Even before the game was first published and made available to the general public.

I think the rules could be written up in a very small document, including an appendix with the necessary charts, and you would have all the necessary instructions for the game. A book of monsters, a book of spells, a book of treasures (including normal equipment and goods) could be written up separately...or not...and you'd be just fine. For long time, experienced DMs, this would really be all you need...probably MORE than what you need.

For new DMs, it wouldn't be enough. You need another text that explains how to run the game. One that puts aside assumptions that 'oh you'll just figure it out.' Something that explains the concepts, why systems interact with each other the way they do, how they're justified. Something that shows what the game should look like, how to maintain it, how to maintain the players' interest. A teaching manual (though I hesitate to put those two words together) I guess. The players need very little instruction aside from the nuts and bolts of the rules (and an admonition to explore the world based on the description provided by the referee). The referee needs something more.

Because being a DM isn't just about being a referee. It's not just an umpire or group facilitator. "Referee" is a misnomer for what it is that a Dungeon Master does.

How many pages do you really need?  I'm thinking about this at the moment.

With Regarding To Actual Grappling: I went back and looked at the simple grappling rules I wrote up for my B/X Companion. They're fine for what they are (a tack on to the B/X system). For my OD&D game, I use the following procedure, based off an example provided by Gygax in The Strategic Review #2.

• An opponent that wishes to grapple a non-grappler loses initiative (that is, the non-grappler may make a normal melee attack before the grappler attempts her move).
• The grappler makes a normal attack roll against the defender's normal AC.
• On a successful attack roll, the grappler throws dice to determine the success of her hold: roll a number of D6 equal to the grappler's hit dice and compare the total to the defender's similar roll. High roll wins (which determines whether or not the hold/pin is successful).
• Magic-Users and Clerics divide their total in half.
• If both sides wish to grapple, no attack rolls are made: simply throw dice.

For example, six goblins attempt to grapple two 2nd level characters: a fighter and a magic-user; four attack the former, while two go after the wizard. The fighter manages to kill one and wound a second (two attacks per round against 1HD opponents), while the magic-user fails to even land a hit. All three remaining goblins manage to hit the fighter; only one goblin manages to hit the magic-user. Grapple dice are thrown as follows:

Fighter: rolls 2d6, gets a 7. Three goblins roll 3d6, and get 10. Fighter is pinned.
Magic-user: rolls 2d6, gets an 8. Goblin rolls 1d6, gets a 5. Because the magic-user's total is divided in half (resulting in a 4), she is also pinned.

You got this, man!

Grappling should be a commonly considered tactic. Small, weak monsters that have a superiority of numbers should consider attempting to overwhelm stronger opponents (though they lose initiative and are subject to broken morale). But grappling can also model large monsters (giants, golems, rocs, dragons) grabbing a character and carrying her off.

A pinned character can attempt to escape from the hold in the following round, by throwing dice against the foes holding her. No attack rolls are made (both sides are engaged in "grappling") winner determines whether or not pin is broken. If a total is exceed by a large enough number (probably double), a DM could allow a character to reverse the hold (the formerly pinned character has now pinned her opponent).

A character may not grapple a creature especially larger than herself; generally, that means more than 1 hit die difference. Thus, a human could grapple something up to gnoll in size, but not a bugbear or ogre; a halfling or gnome might grapple something up to a hobgoblin in size. A DM might allow multiple grapplers to succeed where one would automatically fail (for example, four humans might bring down an ogre...maybe) or might not (no number of humans should be deemed sufficient to "pin" a dragon or cloud giant...).

What about thieves? I still have yet to implement thieves in my OD&D game. If I did, I'd allow a dextrous thief (13+ dexterity) to roll dice as a fighter; thieves with average or low dexterity would be limited as magic-users and clerics (divide die total by half). Not every thief is some slippery rogue type!

Cheers.

One Man Army

Once again, I find myself marveling at the elegant simplicity of the D&D combat system.

It's just so lovely how two fighters, equally armed and armored, will have a (roughly) 50-50 chance at killing each other. Certainly, one might get lucky (or unlucky)...in fact, luck will (in such circumstances) be the deciding factor in their battle, assuming neither chooses to withdraw. And having more experience simply prolongs their struggle, as well it should.

But how does D&D model combat against non-fighters? Pretty good, in my opinion.

Mail armor...what most D&D books refer to (redundantly and incorrectly as chain mail) was really, really good stuff. Nearly impenetrable to most weapons of its time, requiring both specialized tools and tactics to harm a human so armored. Is an "armor class" of 5 sufficient to model this? Even an untrained combatant (what B/X calls a "normal human") can land a successful attack against a veteran (1st level fighter) in mail with a D20 roll of 15, 16 if the vet carries a shield. 16? That's a 25% chance to hit (1 chance in 4) with a decent probability of the blow being a killing stroke!

But let's talk law of averages here. Played "by the book" a first level fighter has an average of 5.5 hit points (1d8 roll, discarding 1s and 2s). Assuming average damage from the untrained opponent (3.5, average for a 1d6 roll), it will take the guy on average 6.3 combat rounds to finish a veteran dressed in mail and using a shield. How much damage will the veteran inflict upon unarmored opponents in six rounds? 11.55 on average, enough to kill nearly five "normal" humans. And that's assuming you're using 1d6 damage and no bonus for high strength; a 1d8 damage sword coupled with 13 strength (+1 attack and damage in B/X) pushes the damage output up enough to fell nearly eight (7.92) normal men whose average hit points are 2.5 each.

Of course, being B/X, you can't kill more than one peasant per round.

Still six men dead in sixty seconds...not too shabby for a 1st level fighter, and a testament to the fighter's training and equipment. And adding extra armor, beefier weapons, and more combat experience simply increases this lethality.

"But D&D is so deadly to low-level characters!" Sure it is...if you're entering the lair of a manticore or a nest of orcs with naught but a couple buddies at your back. Yes, getting mauled by a tiger or bear will probably mean the end of our poor veteran, mail dressed or not...and that seems pretty true to reality, no? It would take a pretty high level hero (and/or one armed with magical equipment) to face such a foe and live to celebrate victory. As it should be.

Against non-supernatural horrors and the majority of gentlefolk met in the streets, however, the armored warrior is the Angel of Death, and should command a similar amount of respect, awe, and/or fear. Here's what's NOT realistic: law-abiding communities (especially towns and cities) allowing armored, be-weaponed slayers to roam freely and unchallenged through their streets. No such individual should be allowed entry to a temple (unless a sworn member to the church's knightly order or some such). No such individual should be granted access to a guild hall or the home of a nobleman or town official. No such individual should be allowed to shop at the public market, unmolested by local militia (who are similarly armed and armored for the express purpose of dealing with threats like the character). Assuming the town has any sort of wall at all (as nearly all medieval communities larger than a village would), it's unlikely a strange warrior...or a party of them...would even be allowed to pass the gates girded for war.

Dude's a one man army, after all.

"Superheroes" get eight
attacks per round.

Anyway, that's what I'm thinking about this morning. I like OD&D's multiple attacks against 1HD opponents based on fighter level, but I feel it likely needs a cap (probably around nine) and that it only really works because the OD&D combat turn ("round") is so long (1 minute, as opposed to 10 seconds in B/X). I like 10 seconds as a unit of measuring one "attack;" I think, for example, that four minutes is an extremely long time to optimally fight an ogre (one attack landing per round depleting one hit die of the monster). On the other hand, it seems to me that shoe-horning all spell-casting into 10 second rounds is a little too "cartoony" for my taste. Shouldn't it take longer to cast, a death spell or flesh to stone than a simple wave of the hand?

[yes, it probably looks fine in a cinematic scene...wizards in Thundarr doing all sorts of instantaneous, high-level hijinks. But then, cartoon sorcerers tend to shoot lasers at will, like 4E/5E cantrips, and I find THAT particular practice disgusting...]

But regardless. I like the simple fighting-person and "basic" combat system. That was the point of this post.

Master Weapon List (addendum)

Because folks asked for it, here's the PDF for download. I added the "ranged weapons" part to the bottom half.

Master Weapon List

This is the "cheat sheet" I talked about in yesterday's post. Because my players are showing up remotely, I don't have access to their character sheets. I ask what weapon they're using and I tell them what they need to hit based on the AC of the opponent. All ACs of monsters are assumed to be set as "equivalent of" a particular armor class...for instance, my goblins don't use shields but they're quick and dodgy, thus equivalent to a warrior in light armor using a shield for deflection (AC 6).

AC 1 is an armor class I use for adult dragons (and similar armored foes...if I think of any). Subadult dragons (and younger) are AC 3 or 2, depending.

Initiative is the usual (D6 roll for each side); knocked/loaded missile weapons may fire at the beginning of combat before initiative. Bows may load and fire in the same round, light crossbows may load and fire at the end of the round, heavy crossbows may only fire every other round .

The D6 roll of your opponent determines which segment your attack comes on. There are six (10 second) segments per one minute combat round.

The only declarations I require are from spell casters that want to cast spells. Magic-user spells go off on the segment equal to the spell level of the spell being used (for example, fireball goes off on segment three, since it is a 3rd level spell). Damage taken by a caster prior to spell execution ruins the spell. Clerical spells, most of which require touching, occurs during the clerics normal initiative turn (i.e. as determined by opponent's initiative roll).

Um...I think that's about it. So far, this seems to work. Please post any questions in the comments.

Master Weapon List

So much for simplifying.

This will be a short post. Monday's OD&D session was a train wreck. I mean, the players were awful. Doing stupid stuff. Not cooperating with each other. Getting themselves killed. The usual consequences from garbage play.

They're kids, sure. That's not enough of an excuse.

I won't elaborate except to say three out of four PCs were killed. In bad, self-inflicted ways. The fourth barely made it out. Total amount of treasure recovered from the dungeon: zero.  I stocked the place with damn near 50,000 gold pieces and half a dozen magic items. Bupkis.

I do not play easy. Mulligans are over. They can always roll up new characters.

Today we had another session. Due to a rescheduling, I was making meatloaf when the session started. I used the opportunity to explain the premise of the game: cooperation is key. Team work is vital. The only way to succeed is to work together. Splitting up is usually NOT going to lead to success.

They got the point, and today's game went much better. Everyone survived...three of the four down to single digit hit points, but they ALL made it out alive. Survived multiple encounters and even recovered some treasure (a bit less than 300 gold pieces) as well as the bodies of two of their fallen companions (from Monday's session). One of today's PC's was the son of one of the dead ones and he really wanted to raise his father...so much so that when he couldn't afford the 5,000 gold piece price to raise the man, he offered 10,000 gold pieces and agreed to a quest spell to ensure payment.

Not bad. A lot of religious issues being raised in the campaign. And they haven't even met the White Wizard or the Zombie King. Maybe next session.

Oh, the title of this post? I spent half a day working through the Greyhawk (Supplement I) weapon adjustment material, cross-referencing it with Chainmail and AD&D (1st Ed.) and compiling a system that works with the OD&D "alternate (D20) combat system" includes both "weapon class" (from Chainmail) and references space requirements and speed factor, while also incorporating segments as presented in Eldritch Wizardry (Supplement III) and a standardized casting time system (for spells) into combat procedures. Got it typed up on a single page reference sheet and put it directly into use for today's session. Worked just fine and dandy; it's amazing how much detail one can squeeze into a system when you're not worried about ability score modifiers and armor classes outside a nine digit range.

Might have to laminate the card...I'm absurdly proud of it.
; )

Happy gaming to all, and to all a good night!

Fatigue - An Example

So there's this fairly memorable scene in the first Game of Thrones season (also in the first novel) where Tyrion ("the Imp") is captured and taken to the Eyrie (one of the "seven kingdoms") where, in order to escape execution, demands a trial by combat. The sellsword, Bronn, offers to champion him against the knight, Vardis Egen. Despite wearing only ringmail armor (disdaining even a shield), Bronn manages to best the plate-and-shield armored knight by dint of being younger (about fifteen years) and faster and fighting in a craven-like fashion that tires out Ser Vardis. Finally wearied by chasing the spry mercenary around the battle chamber in his encumbering armor, the knight slips to one knee and is wounded by Bronn...after which the end (from weariness and blood loss) is all but inevitable. In the eyes of the attending nobility, the sellsword fights without honor; and yet, it is his canny choice of tactics that allows him to prevail with ease where he might otherwise been hard-pressed to achieve victory. Bronn was never interested in a "fair" or "honorable" fight, only in winning and being rewarded with Tyrion's gold.

I find it difficult to model this with AD&D. And it bugs me.

Unless I am completely missing something (entirely possible since I'm semi-new to this "AD&D thang"), there aren't any specific rules regarding fatigue; Gygax explicitly writes in the DMG:

"No rules for exhaustion and fatigue are given here because of the tremendous number of variables, including the stamina of the characters and creatures involved...Fatigue merely slows movement and reduces combat effectiveness. Exhaustion will generally require a day of complete rest to restore exhausted creatures. Always bear in mind that humans inured to continuous running, for example, can do so for hours without noticeable fatigue, i.e. those such as Apache Indians, Zulu warriors, etc. Do not base your judgment on the typical modern specimen."

This is written with regard to pursuit and evasion and is incredibly frustrating, as what I am most interested in is fatigue with regard to minutes (i.e. one minute rounds) of hand-to-hand fighting...an incredibly stressful and tiring exercise even for the most hardened warrior.

B/X doesn't hand wave fatigue; it has specific rules (including penalties to "combat effectiveness") in two different places (page B19 and B24). These are an adaptation of the rules found in OD&D (page 8 of Book 3) requiring a ten minute rest break in every hour of activity, and a "double rest period" after any bout of flight/pursuit (B/X changes this to ten minutes after three turns, with a double penalty the consequence for failing to rest). Still, this doesn't address combat fatigue per se...though this is mitigated somewhat by B/X shrinking combat rounds to ten seconds with any encounter being considered "to have lasted one full [ten minute] turn. The additional time, if any is spent resting sore muscles, recovering one's breath, cleaning weapons, and binding wounds." (Moldvay, page B23).

Yes, yes...I'm aware that hit points are (in part) a model of fatigue and the ability to withstand fatigue in combat. And that makes perfect sense in the abstract: a trained fighter should be more resistant to the rigors of melee than a spindly thief or wizard, and an experienced one even more so. But hit points don't take into account encumbrance...nor movement/activity that has occurred before. And hit points are famous for not diminishing character effectiveness even as they're depleted: a character may be down to half or a quarter of her stamina (hit points) but that doesn't slow her sword arm (there's no penalty to attack rolls).

What's particularly maddening here is that CHAINMAIL actually had the most comprehensive rules for fatigue. Under the Chainmail rules, a model becomes fatigued after any one of the following:

1. Five consecutive turns of movement.
2. Two consecutive turns of movement, followed by a charge, and a round of melee.
3. One turn of movement, followed by a charge, and two rounds of melee.
4. Three rounds of melee.

A fatigued combatant faced the following stiff penalties:

- Attacking and defending as "the next lower value."
- Morale dropping by one point (using a 2d6 roll, much like B/X).
- Slowed (to one-half) "uphill movement"

"Next lower value" is a pretty beefy penalty in Chainmail, but modeling it to AD&D it works out to about a -2 penalty to AC and (probably) attack rolls.

[why -2? Because an "armored" represents a figure in plate-and-mail, a "heavy" represents a figure in chain armor...which in D&D is only a 2 point difference in armor class]

All penalties are removed after the character has had a chance to rest one full turn...the turn in the Chainmail game being one minute long. A "round" of melee in Chainmail is an exchange of blows (one side attacks, then the other side attacks) and is contained within the standard "turn" but, as no more than one such round may be fought in a turn, it can be presumed to approximate an OD&D (or AD&D) round with regard to engaged figures.

Thus, it would not be a great stretch (if relying on Chainmail, the basis of OD&D and, thus, the basis of AD&D) to give characters an AC and attack penalty after three rounds of continuous fighting (or after two rounds for characters that charged), perhaps mitigated by a high Constitution score, and perhaps adjusted by encumbrance. If one wanted to add an extra level of complexity to their game.

OR...we could just ignore the issue altogether and simply allow tireless combatants to beat each other senseless for hours, perhaps fueled by adrenaline alone. In which case, why would you never carry a shield and the strongest armor available when offered? Right?

Pop goes the weasel.