Category Archives: Uncategorized

Another Approach to Races

An elf? Image by Sidney Sime

Here is another way to do some classic fantasy races without relying on things like ability score bonuses (which are boring and lead to optimization). Ability scores are rolled using the standard 3d6 in order method, but one or more ability score (depending on race) uses 2d6 instead. This means that the average member of any non-human race will likely take a penalty in those scores, which is intended. Of course, the best approach to maintaining the weirdness of non-human races is to limit them to NPCs, but even I admit it can be fun to play strange races sometimes.

Elf. 2d6 constitution. Time flows differently in Fairy-Land. Elves are ageless, and will live forever unless they are killed by violence, though they must return to Fairy-Land periodically or become mortal (and slowly forget their memories of Fairy-Land). (Note that being ageless can be a real game benefit.) Some elves speek the languages of animals, and may select animal languages in addition to standard languages (if they have extra language slots due to intelligence). Fairy-Land is a dark mirror of the Sunlit Realms, and the two realities connect in many places. When exploring a wilderness hex, elves have a 1 in 6 chance per day of finding a shadowed glade or other location that exists in both realms simultaneously. Elves cannot abide iron, will not use iron weapons or armor, and take +1 damage from iron weapons. Elves begin with elf-metal weapons, and may acquire replacements in Fairy-Land. Elves bleed something strange.

A dwarf? Image by Arthur Rakham

Dwarf. 2d6 charisma. +4 saving throws versus poison & magic. Despite being creatures of Law, dwarves originate in the Underworld. When exploring a wilderness hex, a dwarf has a 1 in 6 chance per day of locating (or summoning) an entrance to the Underworld. Dwarves are the only race that can forge magical weapons (not sure how this should work, but it requires some other rules). Dwarves may create elf-metal weapons. Dwarves can smell treasure, especially gold and gems (thanks for that one, DCC RPG). Large creatures take -1 penalties when attacking dwarves.

Beastling. 2d6 intelligence, wisdom, and charisma. Servile by nature, beastlings are humans corrupted by sorcerers to serve as slaves and soldiers. Sometimes, beastlings are spontaneously generated by the concentrations of chaos. May not have retainers. Beastlings are ferocious and hard to kill, and gain a +4 bonus to death saving throws. In addition, they are never knocked unconscious, and instead fight on at 1 HP upon a successful death saving throw. They do not, in general, understand the concept of retreat and will not do so unless commanded by others. Free-willed beastlings only come about when their sorcerous creators are slain (or, occasionally, if spontaneously generated). They are not welcome in civilization and must conceal their nature or be driven away (at best). Evan over at In Places Deep has a nice beast-man post too.

Turning Variations

Excerpt from Men & Magic page 22

To the right you can see an excerpt from the original turn undead system from OD&D. This basic idea has filtered down through all TSR editions, though it was finally replaced by the bland damage mechanic of Third Edition. The way this table works is really nice mechanically. As the cleric gets more powerful, more types of undead can be automatically turned or destroyed, but a random roll is still require to see if the more powerful undead are affected. As elegant as the results are, it still requires a table. Maybe we can approximate the table with a simple rule? It’s been done before, but here are some other approaches.

The original system works by having auto-turn (and auto-destroy) values based on cleric level, and then adding a bonus of 1 to 3 from a random roll. The percentages behind that random roll are:

  • 2d6, 7+ = 58.22%
  • 2d6, 9+ = 27.78%
  • 2d6, 11+ = 8.33%
So, considering the max HD of the affected target, rolling 7+ gives you one extra HD, rolling 9+ gives you two extra HD, and rolling 11+ gives you three more HD (corresponding to skeleton, zombie, and ghoul on the first level of the turning table). Yes, the HD equivalent is not perfect, but these monsters also have some special abilities and immunities, so the equivalency is good enough for government work. Quantifying undead by HD is pretty much what all the clones do, also.
The traditional turing table works out to this:
  • Max HD of undead turned = (level – 1) + bonus
  • Max HD of enemy destroyed or banished = (level – 3) + bonus
There are several different ways to calculate the bonus. The most obvious and traditional method would be to use 2d6 as described above and remember that 7, 9, and 11 are the magic numbers (corresponding to +1, +2, and +3). One could also translate the equivalent percentages into d20 terms, as Swords & Wizardry and Second Edition did. The idea I’m considering is making it a single d6 roll such that:

  • 4 grants +1 HD
  • 5 grants +2 HD
  • 6 grants +3 HD

This dovetails nicely with some other mechanics that I am considering, but it does still require remembering 3 arbitrary numbers.

The level – 1 is also a bit inelegant (and an extra, if simple, math step in the common case). What if we allowed anyone (non-chaotic) to attempt turning undead, assuming they had a cross? That would be “zero level” turning, whereas classed characters would add their turning level to the roll. It would fit the literature (after all, characters other than Van Helsing can use holy symbols in Dracula, if I recall correctly). I’m not sure if that steps on the clerics toes too much or not. Given my general approach to thief abilities (anyone can try, thieves are just better), it seems reasonable. It would mean that “first level” turning ability would start at the Adept level. Just an idea. Or maybe (level – 1) is not that bad.
Also, the number of hit dice affected can just be Nd6 where N is the cleric level. I think that probably works better than any other way of counting how many undead are affected. In fact, if we wanted to go really simple, and still preserve the basic idea, we could replace the whole system with rolling for the number of HD affected, but also assume that the max HD of any creature turned is N + 2, and that undead of N – 3 HD are destroyed outright. That would mean a character with first level turning ability would be able to turn away 1d6 HD worth of undead, of up to 3 HD each. This could still easily lead to failures at first level even though you always successfully turn at least 1 HD. For example, you could roll a 1 or 2 against a group of multiple single-HD undead.

Assuming you wanted to get rid of the lookup table, which approach would you prefer? Or do you have an even better idea? Or am I a heretic for considering doing away with the table?

It’s notable that most of the clones have decreased the power of turn undead, requiring clerics to roll for weak undead, even as level increases (though with lower target numbers). For comparison, here are excerpts from the Swords & Wizardry WhiteBox and Labyrinth Lord turning tables, which don’t give any automatic results until 4th level:
Labyrinth Lord page 9

Swords & Wizardry WhiteBox page 34

Peter Cushing’s Van Helsing (Grognardia)

Blogging

My first post on this blog was published August 21, 2011. So tomorrow is my first blogging anniversary. The first post was about a campaign called Blackwater Falls, which was one of the most successful games I have played in. That first effort has been followed by more than 300 others, and this blog has accumulated over 69k views; moderate success by the standards of our community, I think, but certainly way more than I expected! I had no intent when I began to produce anything so regular, and avoided the idea of a posting schedule intentionally, to keep fun high and pressure low. My only stricture was to try not to post more than once a day, to keep from flooding any potential readers and burning out my own enthusiasm (I have broken this rule once or twice, but only for minor things like links to other resources).

Sometimes I wonder about the effort involved. Blogging is not hard, especially compared to more systematic writing, but it does require an investment of time to get ideas into a form that can be consumed by others. However, I have found that this is a good way to figure out what I actually think about something. My first post drafts, which were never actually published, focused on the design of Fourth Edition, as that was what pulled me back into the hobby after a 10 year hiatus. Well, the edition itself didn’t pull be back in, it was more that 4E was the game my coworkers were playing. So my earliest posts were focused on explaining the ideas of class balance, roles, and power sources to myself.

As noted, those posts never actually got published, as I quickly realized that 4E catered primarily to aspects of the game that I wasn’t really interested in, despite having some innovative ideas (I still think, for example, that forced movement is something which could profitably be introduced to traditional D&D, without recourse to the grid or miniatures). By reading some blogs that focused on 4E, I discovered that other communities online existed dedicated to earlier styles of gaming, and slowly came to the realization that the OSR seemed to be more in line with my own priorities. As it turned out, many of the gaming practices that worked best for me back in my days of 2E gaming were cases of independently discovering things that the original game was designed around, but that were gradually sidelined or eliminated in later editions (and hence largely concealed from me during the 90s).

Despite that, I ran a hacked version of Fourth Edition D&D for something like 9 months, because the player interface was familiar to the people I was gaming with. It was fun. It gave me real experience regarding what “new school” D&D is good at, and what it is bad at. I’m glad, though, to be running and playing rule systems that are closer to my ideal now.

Engaging with the OSR and general gaming community via reading other blogs and writing this blog has been a very effective way of learning about gaming, and I often think I should apply the same strategy to some of my other hobbies. Specifically, I am pretty serious about weight lifting and fitness, and I think that fits the community reinforcement patterns present in blogging very well. I’ve been planning on starting up a fitness blog for a while, but have been hung up on picking a name (something that is always hard for me). I don’t just want to use a nonsense word like I did for this blog! (The story behind this blog’s name is that untimately is how I always mistype ultimately.) I’m also fascinated by economic history. Also blog material? How many blogs can one profitably have? That quote about serving multiple masters (Matthew 6:24) from the Bible comes to mind.

Blogging is also somewhat addictive. As fellow blogger Erik from the excellent blog/setting Wampus Country noted, the addiction of blogging comes from the continuous minor rewards of comment feedback. Should I be ashamed to admit that often the first thing I do in the morning when I wake up is to check my email to see if there have been any blog comments overnight? Intellectually, I know that comment volume is not a good quality metric. The kinds of posts that provoke the most comments are quite obviously not the best posts, looked at with any kind of objectivity. But that knowledge does not make the reward structure of our minds work differently. It’s the same thing that is behind slot machines and treasure drops in Diablo and World of Warcraft. Worth keeping in mind, I think.

If I had a single piece of advice for other bloggers, it would be to use writing about specific things as a way to get at a general idea. This is not based on a sense that what I am doing is the right way to do it, but rather on what I like to read on other blogs. For example, the Dwimmermount actual play reports on Grognardia are so good because they are not really actual play reports (which, let’s face it, are almost universally boring to read and are only useful as a record of happenings). Instead, they are investigations into how the elements of old school roleplaying work, with a mix of theory and examples taken from the session. Go back and read them some time, especially in chronological order, to see what I mean. Good literary criticism uses reading a novel as a vehicle to say something independently interesting. Similarly with any kind of discourse. I don’t always live up to this ideal, but I try.

So what do I see as the future of this blog? Well, I’m not sure. I keep thinking I should scale back my posts to a few per week rather than approximately daily, but then I worry that if I stop for a few days I may just never return. I would also like to occasionally delve into other games more deeply, especially Call of Cthulhu and early Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay, but I think I need to actually play them before I can do that. So I will probably keep on doing more or less what I have been doing. As my Vaults of Pahvelorn game continues, I would also like to start releasing some of my materials from that, along with continued musings on OD&D.

In addition, I have several other larger gaming-related projects that I am working on. I don’t like to talk much about projects before there is really something there, but hopefully these will progress soon to a point where I can start to talk about them without feeling like I am discussing aspirations as opposed to actual things.

Types of Ability Check

There are two common ways to do ability checks. One is the old school “roll d20 less than or equal to” method that I will call “roll under” or RU in this post. In this method, rolling lower is better. The other is the new school “roll d20 add modifier and hit target number” method that I will call DC (for “difficulty class”) in this post. In the 3E DC method, higher is always better.

The two methods have math that is slightly different. Using the 3E DC method has a slight dampening effect, as all that matters is the modifier (for example, a score of 14 and 15 have the same modifier, and so characters with strength scores of both 14 and 15 have the exact same chances of succeeding on any strength check). It is worth noting beforehand that ability score modifiers are different in 3E than they are in traditional D&D. The Moldvay progression looks like this:

0 0 0 0 1 1 1 2 2 3

Whereas the 3E ability modifiers look like this (and extend linearly off into infinity):

0 0 1 1 2 2 3 3 4 4

Both RU and DC style checks can be used with either style of modifier progression. The table I have included below uses the Moldvay progression, but I don’t think the results are much changed if the linear 3E progression is substituted (you get an extra 5% tier on each end, because of the -4 and +4).

A flat RU check with no bonus or penalty is approximately equal to a DC 10 check. Modifying the difficulty of an RU check is usually done by rolling with a bonus or penalty. To compare the two methods, I have calculated percentages DC 5, 10, 15, and 20 3E checks and corresponding RU +5, +0, -5, and -10 checks. Thus, the columns should be compared pairwise:

  • Easy: RU +5, DC 5
  • Average: RU, DC 10
  • Moderate: RU -5, DC 15
  • Difficult: RU -10, DC 20
So, RU +5 and DC 5 are both “easy” ability checks. I used color in the headings to indicate which columns should be compared; hopefully it is clear. I have further colored the success chances in blocks of 25%. So, from 1% – 25% gets one color, 26% – 50% gets another color, etc.
Score Mod RU +5 DC 5 RU DC 10 RU -5 DC 15 RU -10 DC 20
3 -3 40% 65% 15% 40% 5% 15% 5% 5%
4 -2 45% 70% 20% 45% 5% 20% 5% 5%
5 -2 50% 70% 25% 45% 5% 20% 5% 5%
6 -1 55% 75% 30% 50% 5% 25% 5% 5%
7 -1 60% 75% 35% 50% 5% 25% 5% 5%
8 -1 65% 75% 40% 50% 10% 25% 5% 5%
9 70% 80% 45% 55% 15% 30% 5% 5%
10 75% 80% 50% 55% 20% 30% 5% 5%
11 80% 80% 55% 55% 25% 30% 5% 5%
12 85% 80% 60% 55% 30% 30% 5% 5%
13 +1 90% 85% 65% 60% 35% 35% 10% 10%
14 +1 95% 85% 70% 60% 40% 35% 15% 10%
15 +1 95% 85% 75% 60% 45% 35% 20% 10%
16 +2 95% 90% 80% 65% 50% 40% 25% 15%
17 +2 95% 90% 85% 65% 55% 40% 30% 15%
18 +3 95% 95% 90% 70% 60% 45% 35% 20%

This table should be read as follows:

  • RU +5 = add 5 to the score and then roll less than or equal to it on a d20
  • RU -10 = subtract 10 from the score, roll less than or equal to it on a d20
  • DC 15 = roll d20, add the modifier, and roll equal to or greater than

So what does this mean? The takeaway here is that DC checks have much less variance, and are thus less interesting in practice. They tend to be almost binary. That is, a DC 15 check is within the same 25% success bracket for all but the bottom 3 ability scores (that is what all that blue in the DC 15 column means). Compare to RU -5, which ranges from 5% to 60%, depending on character competency.

One last note. The Moldvay system assumes bounded ability scores, describing a population that observes the standard bell curve distribution (and races don’t modify ability scores). This says something about the nature of the characters so modeled, and I think this feeds into the general power curve analysis I did before.

OSRCon 2

That’s me in the black t-shirt, sort of in the middle (source)

I spent saturday morning at OSRCon exploring Dwimmermount with fellow blogger Ram (and several others). James M. was referee. I rolled up a second level magic-user named Eknuv and we proceeded to explore the dungeon. It felt like we were very successful (though who knows what all we missed), as we avoided a poison gas trap, defeated several groups of monsters, and discovered a hidden treasure room worth 10,000 GP. Along with other experience, this was enough to promote all of our characters to level 3, which we did. After that, we explored part of dungeon level 2 as well. Overall, this was a great example of how to get a lot done in a limited time, even with many players, and Zak’s suggestion about starting games where players can do things right away holds just as much for in person games as it does in G+ games.

In addition, delving Dwimmermount highlighted the value of small details. You really don’t need a paragraph of description to make a room interesting. One or two features is enough. For example, there was one room that was empty save for small metal rings set into the stone floor making up a pattern. We didn’t figure out what those rings were for, if anything, but the lingering mystery in and of itself is intriguing. This is a good reminder, being in the process of developing a megadungeon of my own. There were many other rooms with similar details, such as columns made of different elements. I’m sure some of those relate to puzzles that we did not solve.

Ed Greenwood running a Forgotten Realms setting (source)

I also played in a Labyrinth Lord game run by Carter Soles (from The Lands of Ara blog). I played Zephyr the cowardly fighter (whose character sheet I unfortunately did not retain, as I needed to leave the game early). That game was basically a commando assault against what seemed to be a haunted keep. As proper adventurers, of course we went in through the roof. There were undead sheep.

The conference as a whole was a lot of fun, though small. I got to play part of a Tunnels & Trolls game run by its creator, which was totally new to me. I also got to watch Ed Greenwood run a session in his Forgotten Realms. In hindsight, I wish I would have made more of an effort to exchange contact info with local OSR gamers or others that I might only know from blogs (for example, I now know that Akrasia was there, though I didn’t meet him). So, if any other readers just happened to be there, leave a comment! Maybe we can get some local Toronto OSR action going, at least semi-regularly.

Types of Preparation

Download a draft PDF of my session document

What makes up the work that a referee does when preparing to run an RPG? Here is a taxonomy that I find useful for evaluating the utility of published products, and also for deciding how to spend my own limited time. I cover the categories from the general to the specific.

ATMOSPHERE

Atmosphere includes the kind of things that will define a setting at the highest level. Preparation at the this level is like basic scientific research. It is necessary if you don’t want stagnation, but is not very useful when the rubber meets the road in actual play. Luckily or unluckily, the vast majority of published RPG material is atmosphere. For example, most published tabletop RPG settings fit here. They are very far from being play-ready, though they might have some good ideas. Most game entities (the contents of “splatbooks”) also fit here, and include things like monsters, treasure, and spells. Even most modules are better situated here. Fun pleasure reading, interesting ideas, but often not so good at the table. I don’t want to denigrate atmosphere too much; you need to get your ideas from somewhere. But reading a module or game setting is often at the same level as watching a movie or reading a novel.

SETTING

At some point, you need to start deciding where things exist in the campaign world. In the simplest case, you don’t need to do much work here; a town and a dungeon are enough for traditional D&D. Genre expectations (e.g.: generic Tolkienized medieval fantasy, Gotham City) can do much of the work for you, assuming that you don’t require your setting to be unique. The standard tradeoff here is approachability versus specialness (the same tradeoff exists for base rules and house rules). This level, for me, is no longer about general info (that would go above in the atmosphere category); the point of this is stuff that PCs might interact with at a macro level, both in spacial and relationship terms (e.g.: north of the kingdom are mountains, the guild of thieves seeks to steal the secrets from the council of magicians). There are few examples of published setting material under this definition. Most published “settings” are 90% atmosphere with 10% actionable setting info mixed within. I’m still not sure what the best way to store and reference setting info is, especially for use during the game. Character generation rules (or creation of pre-gens), selection of base system, and house rules all also fit here, practically speaking.

ADVENTURE
In an old school style game, this will likely be a site to explore, but it could also be something like an NPC relationship map. It must allow players to make low-level tactical decisions. In terms of published RPG material, the module is the most obvious analogue, but I’m coming to believe that the one page dungeon is a better model. Unfortunately, historically most published examples have been flawed by verbosity and linear story-based presentation that do not allow player choice to have much influence over how the game plays out. Verbose modules can still be valuable, but as atmosphere as described above.
SESSION
This phase doesn’t have a published analogue that I have seen (pointers welcome!), and so it gets far less attention than it deserves. For many people (myself included, until relatively recently), this phase entails a few hastily scrawled notes, maybe a map, and perhaps some refresher cram-memorization if running a module. However, I find that I have been able to run games much more effectively given a slightly more structured approach. Specifically, I need to be able to track time and monster health. To assist with this, I roll up a set of encounters and hit dice beforehand (inspired by Jim’s DM prep posts over at Carjacked Seraphim and Courtney’s session tracker over at Hack & Slash). Turn sequence and hit dice are randomized before every session. This means that during play, I only need to check things off. It is surprisingly freeing to have this info predetermined, and I highly recommend it. Before I did this, I was unable to reliably track time. Afterwards, it became trivial. In addition to this tool, I sometimes create a list of more complicated encounters, compile a list of names to use for improvised NPCs, and have a section to note down treasure or “important things” discovered. This document is still a work in progress though, and I assume it will continue to evolve.

Magic-Users are awesome

JB has a post up about how the traditional D&D magic-user class sucks. I’m not putting words in his mouth, either:

So when I say, MAGIC-USERS SUCK, I’m only talking about the magic-using class, as used by player characters. And my astute observation (that they suck) comes from a careful review of the rules as written and their actual use in-play. My concern is about the “fun factor” of the class, both for the player who actually plays the character, the other players in the party, and the DM running the adventure.

In contrast, I think the magic-user as written is great, one spell slot at first level and all. First I’ll tell you why, and then I’ll address a few of the points he raises directly.

Eknuv the magic-user, tamer of hobgoblins

Eknuv the magic-user, tamer of hobgoblins

This morning I played a magic-user in Dwimmermount at OSRCon, and never once did I feel like I had nothing to do. We started at second level, but this still only gave me two prepared first level spells, a scroll, and two hit dice (which was 5 HP, as it turned out). Still in danger of being killed in one hit. I had AC 9, two daggers, and a small collection of adventuring gear. I had sleep, charm person, and a scroll of shield (which I never used). The sleep got us past a group of hobgoblins, and the charm person got me a hobgoblin henchman. But I didn’t feel the need to use any spells until fairly deep into the dungeon, on the second level.

Let’s also look at the list of first level spells. I’ll stick to the 3 LBBs here, because I think they encapsulate the essence of the class best. Later editions dilute the list by adding direct damage spells like magic missile too early, but the essence still remains if you look.

  1. detect magic
  2. hold portal
  3. read magic
  4. read languages
  5. protection from evil
  6. light
  7. charm person
  8. sleep

All of these spells are solutions to common dungeon problems. Detect magic can tell you which treasure is most valuable, or what aspect of a complex puzzle you should focus on (or avoid). Read magic allows you to use scrolls that you find without needing to retreat to the surface or potentially identify some magic items, if there are inscriptions. Read languages allows you to decipher maps or clues (I wished that I would have memorized read languages today when I was exploring Dwimmermount). Protection from evil prevents enchanted monsters from getting near you (like level-draining undead). Light is a failsafe in case you lose your main light source, or need to light an area that can’t be well lighted by torches or lanterns (like under water, in within magical darkness). Charm person gets you a retainer. Sleep allows you to avoid one direct confrontation. You get one of these potential wildcards in addition to everything else you can do as a person with two arms, two legs, a brain, and exploration equipment.

How much of a character’s capabilities should be located in the class “extras” and how much should be player creativity and interaction with the environment? I see the second category as primary, and the first as secondary. Everyone is an adventurer. Fighters get a small advantage in terms of combat (a bit more HP, better weapon selection, etc); thieves can climb and have a small advantage in some dungeoneering activities; clerics get to turn undead (and no spell at first level!); magic-users get a spell and the ability to use magic items and scrolls.

Which brings us to scrolls. How could JB have forgotten to mention scrolls? Scrolls allow magic-users to carry a potentially limitless number of utility and attack spells. If using the Holmes rules, they can be scribed for 100 GP per spell level, and if not using those rules DMs can place them as treasure or make them available for purchase (doing so is part of the class design, not a house rule). Even more spectacularly, depending on your edition of choice, you may be able to cast spells above your level from a scroll (I believe AD&D gives a chance of failure, but OD&D and B/X allow magic-users to cast spells of any level if they are on a scroll). In addition to scrolls, there are, of course, other magic items, most of which cannot be used by any other class. Even a small amount of adventuring will provide a fledgling magic-user with plenty of resources and options.

Now to individual points. Quotes are from JB’s post linked above.

The existence of house rules in many, many campaigns to change or increase magic-user effectiveness.

People house-rule many things. The most common house-rule I have seen in TSR D&D (and its simulacra) is full HP at first level. This is something I don’t think is necessary, is usually not specific to the magic-user, and even if implemented still leaves the magic-user often dead after one hit.

The modification and tweaking of the class and its abilities over-time and across editions, expressing dissatisfaction with the class as conceived in prior/earlier editions.

This has happened to all the classes, not just the magic-user. The humble fighter has probably come in for the most revision (due to some people not liking the lack of “awesome things to do” written on the character sheet), but every single class has been targeted at one time or another. The thief takes away skills from other characters, the cleric is a healbot, or is out of place in swords & sorcery settings, etc, etc. I do play commonly with several house rules about weapons and armor, but this is because I don’t care for weapons restrictions in general, not because I think that the magic-user class needs more weapons. Also, the OD&D method of using d6 for both hit dice and damage solves the same problem.

Instead, they’ll be skulking around the back of the pack, or whining that they need to retreat the dungeon to re-memorize their sleep spell(s), or bitterly complaining that they “can’t do anything.” Or all of the above.

Retreat is a strategy that is often available to PCs. There is nothing wrong with this; it will have advantages and disadvantages like any other choice. I don’t understand the complaint about the 15 minute workday. By all means, retreat if you think it will benefit you! This is only a problem if you have a planned sequence of events that your players must experience in order. Also, can’t do anything? How about holding the light source, flinging oil, reloading missile weapons, or any number of other helpful things?

Another house rule I often use is to give magic-users a chance to retain spells after casting them by succeeding at a save versus spells. But the same house-rule also provides for spell fumbles if you roll a 1 on the save (the point was not to give the magic-user more utility, but to make magic less reliable and more flavorful).

City of the Beast

Image from Paizo’s page

I just finished reading City of the Beast (also known as Warriors of Mars), Moorcock’s tribute to the planetary romance of Barsoom. I picked this up during Paizo’s recent sale. It is indeed highly derivative, and even eschews Moorcock’s standard problematic hero in favor of a chivalrous John Carter clone (though Michael Kane hails from the 1960s, and fought in Vietnam rather than the US civil war).

Almost needless to say, I didn’t care about a single one of the extremely simple characters, but there are still some interesting setting ideas here. The humans of Mars (or Vashu, as the inhabitants call it) have a well established civilization of graceful, tall buildings of white stone and blue marble with golden traceries. They also possess much lost technology from an ancient race called the Sheev (page 32):

They are very great and few of them still live. They are remote and of an older race than any on Vashu. Our philosophers speculate on their origin, but we know little about them.

And (page 39):

We are content simply to use the things of the Sheev. We were warned in the far past never to tamper with their gifts since it might result in disaster for us! Their mighty civilization once suffered a disaster, but we have only a few legends which speak of it and they are bound up in talk of supernatural entities in whom we no longer believe.

These artifacts include mind-crowns that allow people who don’t speak the same languages to communicate (how convenient), flying ships, light sources which “had once burned much brighter” (nice!), “ethercraft” (space ships), and laser sidearms. Repairing and recharging these items is beyond the knowledge of Vashu’s people, which makes them perfect “magic item” treasures for a tabletop RPG.

Also briefly mentioned in passing are the Yaksha, “ancient enemies of the Sheev but originally of the same race” (page 116). The Yaksha left ancient ruins spread over vast plains covered in black mud and stunted, sinister shrubs.

By the way, despite the cover image, the blue dudes are supposed to be 8 to 10 feet tall (not 20 feet or more). They are called Argzoon and are standins for the noble savage Tharks of Barsoom, though they live in an underground cavern city located in the Caves of Darkness.

Attack Ranks as Attack Bonuses

Following on my discussion of OD&D AC yesterday, here is how to use OD&D attack ranks with the d20 SRD armor system (which uses armor class as target number, also known as ascending AC).

Attack Ranks
Rank Weak (Magic-user) Average (Cleric, Thief) Strong (Fighter) Attack Bonus
1
levels 1-5
levels 1-4
levels 1-3
+0
2
levels 6-10
levels 5-8
levels 4-6
+2
3
levels 11+
levels 9-12
levels 7-9
+5
4
levels 13+
levels 10-12
+7
5
levels 13-15
+9
6
levels 16+
+12

NOTES

Read the table like: clerics of levels 9 through 12 have attained attack rank 3 and have a base attack bonus of +5.

Again we see the power of three at work here. Weak, average, and strong fighting capabilities are enough to distinguish the classes from each other. Other than a category for not progressing at all, I can’t see any finer granularity adding much value to gameplay.

I have capped the progression of the weak and average classes. It should be obvious how to extrapolate the progression if you want it to be unlimited for all classes. I prefer that the pinacle of fighter combat achievement be higher than other classes.

Yes, it’s a table lookup, but it’s offline, not during the game, so who cares?

Simplified d20 SRD armor bonuses:

Armor Bonuses (Simplified)
Armor AC Bonus Penalty Exploration Tactical
light (leather)
+2
0
120′
40′
medium (chain)
+4
-4 (-20%)
90′
30′
heavy (plate)
+6
-6 (-30%)
60′
20′
shield
+1
-1 (-5%)
N/A
N/A

The really cool thing about this is that there are only 24 different possibilities to remember, and all of them are distinct. So players could potentially use whatever interface they prefer, and it would be all the same to me. So, all are equivalent: I hit plate, or I hit AC 3, or I hit AC 16 (my notes generally use the “AC as plate” form).

The penalty is for ability checks and thief abilities. This is taken directly from the d20 SRD, but the numbers work with the original game, so why not? The movement rates are the same as in this encumbrance system, just presented in a slightly different form.

Armor Equivalencies
Armor Descending AC Ascending AC
Unarmored
9
10
Shield
8
11
Leather
7
12
Leather & shield
6
13
Chain
5
14
Chain & shield
4
15
Plate
3
16
Plate & shield
2
17

I’m sure you have seen similar tables to this before, but I include this one here to show the minimum knowledge I need to keep in my head. You’ll also notice that the ascending AC column above is identical to the first OD&D combat rank.

THAC2, OD&D AC, and Combat Ranks

In OD&D, there are only 8 armor classes. AC 9 is the worst (unarmored) and AC 2 is the best (plate & shield). Each number maps reliably back to a given armor type. So, presented with AC 5, you know that means chain armor (or medium armor, if you’re abstracting it).

Probably medium armor, depending on your setting (source)
  1. Plate & shield
  2. Plate
  3. Chain & shield
  4. Chain
  5. Leather & shield
  6. Leather
  7. Shield
  8. Unarmored

There are no other armor classes in the whole world. If you roll well enough on your starting gold, you can begin at first level with the best armor class in the game (plate armor and a shield cost 60 GP, well below the expected value of 3d6 * 10 starting GP, which is 105 GP). Contrast this with the cost of full plate in Second Edition: 4000 – 10000 GP.

Magic armor does not modify AC, but rather penalizes the attack roll, and the most potent magic armor in Men & Magic is rated +2. By the book, magic shields only help one third of the time, and only if the magical bonus of the shield is greater than that of the armor (i.e., they don’t stack). That requires an extra die roll per combat (extra fiddly), and so will almost certainly be something I jettison. Maybe I’ll house rule magic shields to an additional flat penalty of 1 to the attacker’s roll, along with the full magic bonus for certain saving throws (like dragon breath). I’ve always liked the idea if shields being extra good against dragon breath. [Edit: see here for a clever way from Talysman to handle the shield chance without resorting to another die roll.]

In addition to this form of fixed descending AC, OD&D uses something that I referred to in a previous post as a matrix of combat ranks (my words, not from the book) rather than THAC0 or attack bonus. All classes move through the same ranks, but fighters move through them faster (advancing to the second rank at level 4, when attaining the “hero” title). From Men & Magic, page 19:

Magic-users advance in steps based on five levels/group (1-5, 6-10, etc.), and Clerics in steps based on four levels/group (1-4, 5-8, etc.). Normal men equal 1st level fighters.

I actually like this staggered progression (which is preserved in Moldvay Basic), because it means that PCs need to survive by their wits for a while before they get any mechanical advancement (though I can see why some people might like a smoother progression, and in fact using Target 20 with a smoothly advancing attack bonus seems to be one of the more common OD&D house rules).

Attack Matrix 1

The OD&D approach does have some drawbacks compared to both THAC0 and armor class as target number (more commonly known as ascending armor class). THAC0 is easier to reason with than attack matrices, and direct target numbers don’t require any math (other than situational bonuses and penalties, though in practice those modifiers can end up being rather complicated in 3E).

In the end, all these systems are about the same level of complexity, and all require writing the same amount of numbers on the character sheet. In OD&D, you write down your attack rank column (which is a list of target numbers). In 2E, you write down your THAC0 (and probably derive your other target numbers from that). In 3E, you write your base attack bonus adjusted by all the other modifiers next to every weapon (if you are efficient).

However, the matrix approach does have some benefits, the main one being that anchoring AC helps prevent absurd bonus inflation (especially coupled with the simplicity of ability scores in OD&D). This helps make it clear that while mechanical combat advancement is part of the game, it is not the biggest part of the reward structure. Also, simple AC categories may help make weapon versus AC possible (though you do have to deal with rulings about monster hide being similar to what kind of armor).

This is one reason why I don’t care for the extra d20 SRD armor types that managed to creep into Labyrinth Lord. They break the elegant simplicity of the light, medium, or heavy armor types (modified by a potential shield) present in OD&D and Basic D&D. Obviously there are more types of armor than leather, chain, and plate; however, it does not seem useful to make a distinction regarding armor class past that threefold categorization (other differences can be handled by ruling; for example, chain mail could be used as a crude filter, something that it would be difficult to do with hide armor).