Category Archives: Uncategorized

This and That

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My print copy of ACKS arrived last week. It’s a beautiful thing. And now I don’t have to wait for my PDF viewer to finish rendering the giant images when I’m looking things up. It almost feels odd being able to quickly leaf through a physical book as I had gotten so used to ACKS in PDF form.

One of my new players knows how to use glue (I apparently don’t, as my Otherword Minis had been waiting for months to be assembled). So he very helpfully put them together for me and now we have more attractive minis to use.

Also, it looks like I’m going to be rather busy this week, so posts might be less frequent.

One For All or All For One

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Back in the 90s when I played 2E, before Third Edition was released, we played with perception as a seventh ability score. I’m not sure if this was inspired by something, or if it was a purely original house rule. We relied heavily on “roll equal to or less than” ability checks (even basing a custom system entirely around this mechanic at one point). While the traditional six ability scores cover most situations, it is not obvious which should be used, for example, to notice a sneaking monster. So, we added another 3d6 score for perception.

The WotC editions of D&D were designed similarly, and I’m sure many (most?) other games work the same way. It seems to intuitively make sense that being perceptive, being able to notice things, is a personal trait, and should vary from character to character. However, this doesn’t really work very well in the context of an adventuring party. For one thing, it replaces 1 roll with N rolls (or N lookups if you are playing with something like passive perception). Further, a well designed group game will not have many opportunities for one character to go off and do things without the participation of the others, so the utility of tying perception to the individual is limited.

There are two main places where perception is relevant to the game. The first is when a PC is trying to locate something that is concealed (either actively or passively), the second is when one group might not be aware of another group (like an ambush). The original game used a per-character system for the first and a group system (surprise) for the second. From The Underworld & Wilderness Adventure (page 9):

Surprise: A condition of surprise can only exist when one or both parties are unaware of the presence of the other. Such things as ESP’ing, light, and noise will negate surprise. If the possibility for surprise exists roll a six-sided die for each party concerned. A roll of 1 or 2 indicates the party is surprised. Distance is then 10-30 feet.

Surprise gives the advantage of a free movement segment, whether to flee, cast a spell or engage in combat. If monsters gain surprise they will either close the distance between themselves and the character(s) (unless they are intelligent and their prey is obviously too strong to attack) or attack.

There is precedent for using the surprise mechanic as a general stealth system. This way of doing things was preserved with minor variations through all the TSR editions of D&D. For example, in Second Edition, the check is 3 in 10 per side (2E PHB page 111); there are options that allow individual character attributes to influence the group roll though. I didn’t understand or use the original surprise system back then though, for whatever reason.

Perception as we used it (and as D&D 3E and 4E use it) is a highest common denominator system. You only need one person to notice a sneaking bugbear and then they can alert the other PCs. In contrast, movement rate is a lowest common denominator system. The group can only move as fast as it’s slowest member. Trap finding is also a highest common denominator system. If connected to player options, any kind of highest denominator system will structurally devolve into a skill tax when taken to its logical end. That is, an “optimized” group will have one character that is perceptive (with perhaps one backup).

It just doesn’t seem like much is being gained by individualizing perception in this case. Perceptive or not perceptive is an uninteresting character trait for purposes of roleplaying; it is pretty much just system mechanics. Does this same line of reasoning apply to hearing noise and searching for secret doors? Well, there is one major difference that I can think of. Listening at a door and searching are both proactive. In contrast, perception (or surprise) checks are generally passive, in the sense that they happen to the PCs rather than being initiated by them, and are also part of combat, which benefits more than other parts of the game from mechanical streamlining (because there are so many die rolls involved). If you base the search chance on class (like some editions do where default is 1 in 6 but elves have 2 in 6 change) then you minimize (but do not completely avoid) the skill tax problem.

I will close with one last observation. In the 90s, as has been commonly observed, tabletop RPGs moved away from problem solving and exploration and towards character development (influenced by the White Wold games and products that started to focus on character options). Thus, the logic of the individual character was privileged over the group (and game) experience. I can’t help but think that small mechanical changes like the perception skill are but manifestations of this larger trend, and are closely tied to the idea of RPGs as wish fulfillment fantasies. That, however, is probably a larger topic.

Play Aids

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Following on my ideas for one page dungeon module prep, I’ve actually put together some materials. That’s 10 pages in the picture below (I printed the Blasphemous Brewery prep sheet double sided because I was able to fit the maps and prompts needed on two sheets). One of those sheets is a table for the effects of the purple lotus. I’m missing zone 2 of Hammers of the God because I haven’t completed it yet. It might need to be two pages; I’m not sure yet. The transfomorph from that module also has its own page because it requires several tables.

I’m in the process of running Death Frost Doom from these sheets. They are working out really well so far. They do take a bit of effort to construct, but if you do it at the same time you are reading the module in preparation, I don’t think the extra time is all that much. I would love to see this sort of play aid generally included with modules. Basically, I think that page flipping should be kept to an absolute minimum. It is a rare case where a session might require more than one or two of these sheets (if players are in a sandbox environment where they could jump in any number of different directions, you might need to have several available, but you will probably not need to actually use more than one or two).

As I said before, I don’t think these are replacements for traditional adventures. Modules, especially good ones, convey a lot of atmosphere with all that extra text. But I don’t want to read that during play, I want to read that before play to have a sense of what the scenario should feel like, and during play I only want the critical details.

I’m still playing around with the form factor. Assuming a single sheet like this works well, but perhaps digest size, printed like a booklet (one sheet of paper folded in half) would work better. That might make the front and back more accessible, and would also allow the sheet to be kept inside my adventure log notebook, which is smaller than 8.5 x 11. Right now I have a binder in addition to the notebook, and it would be nice to only need the notebook.

5E Backgrounds & Themes

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There is a post over at the D&D Next development blog about backgrounds and themes. I can already hear the old school groans. Oh no, more sets of options that can be used for character optimization! More complexity! But stay with me, I actually think there are some really interesting ideas here. In the article, backgrounds are described as a bundle of skills and themes are presented as a collection of feats. Choosing a background explains where your character came from, and choosing a theme identifies how the character plays. So far, so much like ACKS templates, right? Or Second Edition kits? Well, sort of, but not only.

This background/theme split actually makes a lot of sense to me. I like it because it focuses on character concept rather than character function. This is a move away from the focus on “role” in Fourth Edition. In 4E, role is actually more important than class. Using backgrounds and themes, rather than selecting the skill athletics and a feat that gives a bonus to ranged combat, a player might select the soldier background and the sharpshooter theme. You don’t even really need to be familiar with the skill and feat descriptions (assuming they choose the background and theme names well). You just need to pick fighter, soldier, sharpshooter. Done. More examples from the article:

The first theme you choose is broadly descriptive and flexible. Think Leader, Sharpshooter, or Skirmisher. When you adopt your second theme at 6th level, you might choose another basic theme or you might choose something that grounds you a bit more in the game by selecting an advanced theme. Currently, advanced themes, in concept, resemble the prestige classes from 3rd Edition. They focus your character a bit further, building on the foundation established by another theme, to reflect deep specialization or some character-defining quality. Here are a few ideas off the top of my head. A Sharpshooter becomes an Arcane Archer. A Tempest becomes an Eldritch Knight. A Lurker becomes a Shadowdancer. A Mystic becomes a Necromancer or Enchanter or Abjurer.

A wizard specialist would actually be something you grow into, not something you start as. This makes sense to me intuitively and also follows the principle of character elaboration through play rather than optimized builds constructed before the game.

Background and theme lists also provide a way for the referee to tailor the player interface to a given campaign without requiring the players to read a large setting infodump document. (Such lists might be amenable to random tables, too, for really quick character generation.) One of the examples they give is a set of backgrounds and themes that might be appropriate for a Ravenloft game: Occultist + Avenger, Commoner + Werewolf, or Bereaved + Revenant. That’s only six words right there, and I bet you already have a pretty good idea about the style and content of that campaign (though I have no idea what “revenant” has to do with class play style).

I also like the idea of getting a new theme every five levels rather than multiclassing. It would fit well with E6-style level limits. If someone wanted to play, for example, an E5 game, then the second theme would essentially be an endgame prestige class. More complicated characters would be possible for those that wished to run campaigns with a higher level cap. Blending magical and mundane themes could lead to very interesting non-stereotypical characters (like a wizard who takes the sharpshooter theme) without the blandness of wizard-4, thief-2 (or whatever). This may also help prevent some of the multiclassing abuses like taking first level in several classes just to get the basic class features. From the article:

As I mentioned last time, I can imagine the fighter’s suggested background being soldier. That tells the story of the fighter throughout the editions. By replacing soldier with priest, I suddenly have a very different sort of fighter—even if the mechanical adjustments are shallow and focus on noncombat task resolution. Such a character might have been a temple guard, a crusader, or even Friar Tuck, armed with a quarterstaff.

And, for those groups that like just picking skills and feats directly, it should be immediately obvious how to do that (“DM 5: Come up with your own background by choosing up to four skills”). Or, one could use backgrounds and themes in a more abstract way, akin to the old secondary skill system.

Now, that’s not to say that this design might not devolve into endless options, but I think it has potential to work well with multiple play styles. As the article suggests, if you don’t want to play with skills, the way to do that is to run a game without backgrounds, and if you don’t want to play with feats, the way to do that is to run a game without themes. Elegant, and by reframing the issues it might also help get people to try playing other styles. I could imagine a tactical gamer willing to try a game without themes and an old school player willing to play a game with backgrounds, especially if all the other rules elements that they are familiar with stay the same. I think this is the most innovative and promising design preview I have seen regarding 5E yet, and one of the few that really starts to show how the system might support multiple play styles an a modular way.

Secret Door Techniques

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I was just reading the LotFP module The Grinding Gear. It has lots of secret doors, and none of them have any mechanisms described. This stuck out after just recently reading this post, OSR Contradiction 2: Player Skill vs. Minimal Dungeons, over at Roles, Rules & Rolls. Further, the Grinding Gear secrets are not “optional” extras; they are required to proceed with the adventure. Both Hammers of the God and Death Frost Doom also have major areas (as in, one third or more of the module content) that can only be accessed if a secret door is found (though some of these secret doors provide specific opening procedures).

When searching for information about how other people have run The Grinding Gear, I came across this LotFP forum post (*). Apparently, Moldvay only allows one try per character per secret door, but no other edition of D&D has a similar rule. This is one of those minor rules variations that has major repercussions on the nature of the game (and module compatibility). Jim goes as far as to say:

My entire style of running (and writing!) adventures just wouldn’t work with a “one chance only” approach, and to repeat again, I had no idea this was a rule in any version of the grand ol’ game, let alone having any idea that people actually played that way.

See also the comments quoted in Zak’s review of The Grinding Gear. (It is worth noting in passing that, unlike B/X D&D, LotFP search is a skill that can be improved, though only by the specialist class.) But then Jeff Rients chimes in:

I use the Moldvay/LL ‘one try only’ rule. It makes elven door-finding and dwarvish sliding wall detection more useful. And since the rule is one try per person, it encourages bringing more people on the mission.

And swords, wands and artifacts that detect secret doors are more valuable if you can’t easily find them.

Also, I like the game to have some roads that are just as real as the one trod by the PCs, but for some reason or another they can never go down them.

And then, how does one handle secret doors that don’t have any description if one wants to support descriptive trap finding? Courtney of Hack & Slash implies that such descriptive trap finding was the way the original wargaming pioneers played. This is, I think, the best statement of his method:

You don’t roll a die to determine if you find and open a secret door, you gather information by asking questions and using your personal smarts to make choices to test the situation to discover the door. Then you make choices about how to open the door.* There is one specific way to open the door. There isn’t a ‘proper’ solution to the encounter because there is no reason you are entitled to find the secret door and no reason it is necessary to find the secret door.
…

*But what about searching for secret doors, talking with monsters, and bashing doors? Situations that are common but just use some random game system to determine the result? How is that player skill?

Unlike modern systems where there is no consequences for failure, each of those is a choice that must be made. Do we risk one turn searching and increase the chance of running into a monster? Do we give up surprise to attempt to parley with the monsters? Do we risk the chance of monsters hearing us bash this door? Each is a choice, weighed with consequences for the attempt and for failure. That is why those are examples of skill based play.

Sorry for the extended quote, but it seems important to be clear about the various positions. So, the options are:

  1. Non-Moldvay: 1 in 6, as many times as desired; cost: 1 turn
  2. Moldvay: 1 in 6, once chance; cost: 1 turn
  3. Courtney: description; non-Moldvay option available

My general mode of operation recently has been none of these. My rule has been that if a secret door is indicated and no description is provided, then searching the area is sufficient to locate the door without making any roll. Just saying “I search the room” is not enough (but it does give you a d6 throw chance), but saying “I spend three turns searching the 30 foot north wall” is.

This is clearly not one of those oh my god you’re so stupid you’re doing it wrong kind of things. If Mr. Rients, Mr. Raggi, and Mr. Hack & Slash all have different (and incompatible!) approaches, I think the only conclusion to be drawn is that even within the relatively restricted field of traditional D&D (let’s say this set includes TSR D&D prior to Second Edition and the associated retro-clones and simulacra) there are several common methods of play. Learn how they work, pick your favorite, and modify any modules you run to fit your method of choice.

* Mostly unrelated, it seems like the original name of Hammers of the God was Old Miner’s Shame, which is pretty cool.

Find Traps as Saving Throw

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I was reading about traps over at The Dragon’s Flagon, and that got me to thinking about find traps as a saving throw, which is an idea I first came across over at Courtney’s blog (see his set of answers to the 20 quick rules questions). To quote:

Finding traps is a saving throw, and works as such.

Thus, anyone can interact with the fictional world and discover or avoid traps purely by investigation and reason. Note that this doesn’t necessarily require any particular mechanical knowledge on the part of the referee or players (though you can go there if you want), it just requires determining trigger mechanism, effect, and clues. Remember, traps don’t need to be mechanical, or even explainable. Traps can be driven by magic, ancient technology, or incomprehensible clockwork.

I think this is really a special case of a more general principle. In some sense, all of combat is also a (complicated) saving throw. If, through smart play, a player can figure out a way to defeat or slay their enemies without a single attack roll, good for them. (Some examples: luring monsters into a trap, flooding a room, burning down a structure rather than engaging in an encounter, starting an avalanche to bury an enemy encampment, ad infinitum.)

Here is a brief history of trap finding and the evolution of the thief class function. As you will see, the scope of “find traps” has steadily increased, the major inflection points being the poor wording of the Moldvay Basic rulebook (this is still my favorite edition, but the description of the thief class is pretty unforgivable) and the generalization of the skill approach in Third Edition.
Supplement I Greyhawk; 1975 (page 4):

— open locks by picking or foiling magical closures
— remove small trap devices (such as poisoned needles)

Holmes Basic; 1977 (page 6):

Thieves — are humans with special abilities to strike a deadly blow from behind, climb sheer surfaces, hide in shadows, filch items and pick pockets, move with stealth, listen for noises behind closed doors, pick locks and remove small traps such as poisoned needles.

AD&D Players Handbook; 1978 (page 27):

Finding/removing traps pertains to relatively small mechanical devices such as poisoned needles, spring blades, and the like. Finding is accomplished by inspection, and they are nullified by mechanical removal or by being rendered harmless.

Moldvay Basic; 1980 (page B10):

They are the only characters who can open locks and find traps without using magic to do so. Due to these abilities, a thief is often found in a normal group of adventurers.

Second Edition Player’s Handbook; 1989 (page 39):

Find/Remove Traps: The thief is trained to find small traps and alarms. These include poisoned needles, spring blades, deadly gases, and warning bells. This skill is not effective for finding deadfall ceilings, crushing walls, or other large, mechanical traps.

3.5 Player’s Handbook; 2003 (page 81):

You can find secret doors, simple traps, hidden compartments, and other details not readily apparent.
…
The Search skill lets a character discern some small detail or irregularity through active effort. Search does not allow you to find complex traps unless you are a rogue (see Restriction, below).
…
Restriction: While anyone can use Search to find a trap whose DC is 20 or lower, only a rogue can use Search to locate traps with higher DCs.

So this idea of find traps as a saving throw is clearly a recent innovation, but it could be thought of as a refinement of the early OD&D approach where there was no find traps ability and remove traps could only be used for very small mechanical devices. The find traps ability does not show up until AD&D. In both OD&D and AD&D, susceptible traps are very specifically defined (small devices), and this is perpetuated in 2E. Moldvay doesn’t define traps at all (perhaps leading a generation of gamers to think that hazards like the the rolling boulder of the Indiana Jones movie could be discovered and disarmed with a simple throw of the dice). And then 3E decides to do away with qualitative differentiation all together and replace it with a continuous difficulty class rating.

Empire of the Petal Throne

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Empire of the Petal Throne is an RPG set in the science fantasy setting of Tékumel, inspired by an amalgam of nonwestern cultures, and based heavily on 1974 D&D. And by “based heavily on,” I mean almost identical to. Based on what I have read online, most people come to EPT for the setting, but this is actually not true for me. I am interested in the early mechanics. I first knew that I needed to read EPT when I came across the rule for re-rolling hit dice periodically (now taken to an extreme by the Carcosa dice conventions).

A PDF of a very high quality scan is available cheaply on RPGNow (around $10). Unfortunately, it has not been processed with OCR software, so it is essentially just images (i.e., one can’t copy text from it), but that being said it is very readable and much better than some of the Judge’s Guild PDFs I have bought from RPGNow. Reasonably priced hardcopy reproductions are also in print, though I have not seen them myself.

As I wrote above, the EPT rules are almost identical to OD&D, other than a strange fascination with the percentile dice. For example, the six abilities (strength, intelligence, constitution, psychic ability, dexterity, and comeliness) are rated from 1 to 100 and determined by d100 rolls (that’s right, no probability clustered around an average here). With the exception of a d100 table for inspiration, I have never been fond of using the percentile dice for mechanical resolution. So many possibilities are rarely needed. Other dice are frequently used throughout the text, so I don’t think this was a game design decision based on limiting the required dice (like the way the Storyteller system only uses the d10), so I can only conclude that Prof. Barker just really liked percentile dice.

For those that lament the pulling of the OD&D PDFs by Wizards of the Coast, just about all the original mechanics are in EPT (though, of course, none of the iconic monsters or treasures are present, and some of the terminology has been renamed). The text itself is also much better written and organized, though the writing is also extremely dense. The information about the setting is necessarily interspersed with the rules text, and as a complete newcomer to the setting, much of the information is difficult to understand. This is definitely a work that requires multiple readings.

The rulebook starts off with four and a half pages of uninterrupted two column small text that is a world overview. I made my save versus wall of text and actually made it through all of this, though most of the invented words were just processed as squiggles with the exception of common terms like Tsolyánu and Sákbe Road. I realize that some people dig on this kind of unique detail, but it does serve as a very high entry barrier for those interested in the setting or rules but not desirous of studying for an RPG setting. There are literally no common natural points of reference; the world is totally alien other than the products of civilization (e.g., there are swords, shields, spears, etc).

That being said, there are lots of interesting things to learn from this text for those interested in old school play style. Tékumel is, after all, in some sense the first published campaign setting for D&D, and one of the first sets of rules variants (I’m not sure if it came out before or after the Greyhawk and Blackmoor supplements). In fact, I would go as far as to say that EPT is one of the most interesting and valuable RPG products I have right now because it takes the spirit of OD&D and explores it prior to any precedents. And, this is a work written for adults. Not in terms of subject matter (though there are a few mature themes covered, such as slavery), but in terms of an assumed level of attention and engagement. Nothing is dumbed down. And the art is great though not plentiful. Using Tékumel as a reference for inspiration is probably more approachable than running it straight.

Though I seemed to be critical of the setting above, I’m really not. In fact, I love the ambiance. It’s just too much detail and specificity for a tabletop RPG that does not have complete buy-in and intellectual investment from all the players sitting around the table. Even if played with the expected campaign beginning (all PCs are newcomers), there would almost never be an encounter like “there are two giant wolves feasting on the carcasses of a ravaged caravan.” This is not a setting that can be played as intended casually. I do think a simplified Tékumel would be a great base for a setting, and many of the subsystems are really interesting. I’ll touch upon some more of these examples in future posts. I would also be negligent if I did not mention the excellent OD&D Discussion EPT subforum in an introductory post on EPT. So do go check that out if you are interested in Tékumel.

Cantrip Scrolls

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Let’s consider the warlock and the eldritch blast ability. The warlock as a D&D class was first introduced in the 3.5 supplement Complete Arcane, and then perpetuated as a core class in the Fourth Edition Player’s Handbook. This is notable because it is one of the first appearances of a class with at-will spell-like powers. Other than the blast ability, the warlock is basically a slightly tougher magic-user with a more custom spell list (though the spells are called invocations).

In the original game, all weapons did 1d6 damage. Thus, a magic-user with a bandolier of daggers is not all that different mechanically from an eldritch blasting warlock. The major difference is that the warlock cannot be disarmed short of being restrained and has theoretically infinite ammunition, whereas the dagger throwing magic user has only practically infinite ammunition (most thrown daggers can be easily recovered after battle) and can be more obviously disarmed. A warlock’s eldritch blast might also be able to damage monsters which can only be harmed by magic.

Despite the fact that daggers do not generally run out, there is a sense of scarcity associated with anything that is numerically tracked on a character sheet, and this resource management is important to the feel of traditional D&D. The eldritch blast does not break the game mechanically, but it does break the game thematically.

What if we wanted to provide an alternative to the dagger mage with slightly more arcane flavor but that avoids the thematic problems described above. Enter the cantrip scroll. Any magic-user can create a cantrip scroll. It takes one day of work and 1 GP worth of supplies. Cantrip scrolls function just like other scrolls (they take a full round to intone, do not allow movement, and are consumed when used). The alternative to the eldritch blast is the malign ray: enemy must save versus magic or take one die of damage, range as thrown dagger.

    There could also be cantrip scrolls with other functions. I prefer to think of arcane magic as inherently chaotic (following the lead of LotFP), so I don’t think they should have more constructive abilities; they should be limited to minor effects consistent with an agent of chaos.

    This post began in my head as an old school take on the eldritch blast. To be honest, there wasn’t really a problem to be solved (I actually quite enjoy playing the traditional magic-user with no at-will powers and only one slot for a prepared spell at first level). I was just sitting in the dentist’s chair with nothing else to do and got to thinking: how is this at-will power really any different than a magic-user with a bag of daggers?

    The Dice Know

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    Last night, a new player joined my weekly game for the session. I don’t know yet whether or not she will be a regular. She was completely new to tabletop RPGs and didn’t even have experience with superficially similar video games. Another player helped her create a character (she chose a human rogue) at the beginning of the game. We leaned heavily on one of the default 4E PHB rogue builds, and the process was actually relatively quick (though we didn’t really go into power descriptions or anything).

    I gave the new rogue a very simple backstory to get things moving. The PCs had accepted a mission from the queen, so I made the new rogue a member of the queen’s secret police sent to assist the party. To make things interesting, I started the rogue with a free collapsible hand crossbow and six poisoned darts. No name was selected.

    There were several open hooks, and the players chose the one that led to Death Frost Doom (they only know about the options via diegetic information, so they were not choosing based on knowledge of modules). When exploring the cabin her character came across the pouch of purple lotus powder. Of course the unnamed rogue decided to partake. New player, Raggi d100 table… I was kind of dreading the outcome. Percentile dice were rolled…

    What was the result?

    33 Character Suffers Total Amnesia!

    So the character with minimal backstory (and no name) had a mind wipe. I can’t make this kind of stuff up. If the player decides to join us again, we now have a reason why she will stick with the PCs. And if she doesn’t, I now have an amnesiac member of the queen’s secret police to use as an NPC.