Hex Stocking II

Recall: 1-2 monster, 3 trap, 4 special, 5-6 empty. Yes, differing chances for treasure too, but ignore that for now. Translating these possibilities into wilderness terms:

1-2 lair, 3 hazard, 4 special, 5-6 empty.

What are these things? They are subtly different than the dungeon equivalents, so here are some definitions.

  • Lair: a place where monsters reside. Probably counts as a small dungeon, and may sometimes connect to the underworld. Examples: goblin caves, bandit fort, zombie graveyard.
  • Hazard: something that is potentially dangerous, but only if PCs interact with it. Examples: lava flow, quicksand, time-stopped wizards mid-duel, town where everyone was killed by a disease, magical radiation.
  • Special: something with interesting utility, unlikely to be directly dangerous (though don’t underestimate the power of creative players to make anything dangerous). 50% chance that a special is a settlement. I wish I had a better word than special for this category. Non-settlement examples: wizard’s tower, oasis, dimensional gateway, healing spring, antigravity zone.

If followed rigorously, this system will result in hexes with at most one interesting feature. Frequency is variant, since one third of all areas will probably be empty. A six mile hex is a big area though, so I would sort of like the system to provide the possibility of more than one result per hex. So, new rule: Keep rolling per hex until you roll a 5 or a 6. Each result rolled will be progressively more hidden or off the beaten path. Basically, I see a hierarchy of obviousness regarding hex contents:

  • Impossible to miss: if you enter the hex, you are aware of it. If you are following roads, then anything on the road is of this category. Examples: a mile high tower on a flat plain, the smoke from an army’s campfires, New York City (probably doesn’t fit in a 6 mile hex, but you get the idea).
  • Standard: some chance in 6 of discovery. If you’re just trying to move through a hex, you still get a passive chance of discovery.
  • Less: some chance in 6 of discovery, and you must proactively spend time exploring the hex.
  • Least: like above, but lower chance of discovery.

This “obviousness” hierarchy is still something I’m working on. The similarity to secret door systems is not lost on me, but I haven’t decided exactly how it should best be systematized yet. I also feel like I read something similar to this somewhere, but I’m not sure where. Also, in case it’s not clear, the default level of obviousness is standard, not impossible to miss.

If there are dangerous things (hazards) and interactive things (specials) there should also be a category of things that are interesting but not so interactive, right? Otherwise, I suspect the hazards and specials will start to feel too common, even if you try to improvise other details at the table. Dungeon stocking systems often have the concept of dungeon dressing; thus, we need wilderness dressing too. Since fluff is crunch, the dressing might still be of use to creative PCs too. My first thought for this was an independent roll per hex, with a 2 in 6 or 3 in 6 chance of added dressing. Like the general hex stocking step, keep rolling until you get a negative result. So, the majority of hexes will not have a dressing element, but a few will have more than one. Hopefully this distribution will feel organic and keep players guessing. Examples of wilderness dressing: abandoned farmhouse, small canyon, half-buried dinosaur skeleton, crater from a past explosion.

To summarize the system as I see it working now: for each hex, roll 3d6 (each die being a different color would probably be convenient). Die 1 determines the main result (lair, hazard, etc), die 2 determines the treasure, die 3 determines if there is dressing. Die 1 and die 3 are each re-rolled until they come up negative, determining ever more hidden hex features. For each result, the relevant subtable is consulted for details about type. I see these tables as a mixture of generic elements that can repeat and unique Vornheim-like entries that are crossed off and replaced with something else once rolled. Monsters are determined by rolling on a terrain-specific table. Treasures are determined by monster hoard type (if part of a lair result) or the standard dungeon “unattended treasure” table (maybe? I haven’t thought this through yet). In the future, I might do some table consolidation, so that fewer die rolls are needed, but I want to leave the various rolls separate for now to preserve the probabilities and make it clear where results are coming from. Also, I don’t think the number of dice required can by much reduced if I want to support a variable number of features and dressing elements per hex.

Hacking D&D

I’m in the process of creating a sandbox using the implied OD&D setting. I’m not sure if this will turn into a game or not; it might just end up being an exercise. While working through this process, I’ve gone through the booklets several times now, and it has got me thinking again about what makes up the essence of D&D. Just about all the things that I now consider important to the game are here in the beginning. I think it’s valuable to see all the parts working together before you start to swap out bits, and I’ve never really done that systematically. So, paradoxically, in order to investigate hacking D&D, I’m doing the opposite.

Here is a summary of what the 3 LBBs cover, and how much space is dedicated to each topic. The space allotted to some topics is surprising.

  • Men & Magic
    • Classes; Fighting-Men, Magic-Users, Clerics (2 pages)
    • Demihuman Races; Dwarves, Elves, Halflings (1 page)
    • Alignment (1 page)
    • Abilities and character creation example (3 pages)
    • Hirelings; negotiation, monsters as, loyalty (2 pages)
    • Inheritance (1 page)
    • Equipment (2 pages)
    • XP tables and advancement (4 pages)
    • Combat and saving throws (2 pages)
    • Spells and turning undead tables (2 pages)
    • Magic-user spell descriptions (9 pages)
    • Cleric spell descriptions (3 pages)
    • Magical research and spell book rules (1 page)
  • Monsters & Treasure
    • Monster stats reference table (2 pages)
    • Monster descriptions (17 pages)
    • Treasure types (1 page)
    • Magic item tables (4 pages)
    • Magic swords (4 pages!)
    • Other magic items (8 pages)
    • Artifacts (1 page)
    • Coins & gems (1 page)
  • The Underworld & Wilderness Adventures
    • Dungeon maps, traps, dungeon stocking (4 pages)
    • Movement, time, surprise, dungeon encounters (2 pages)
    • Dungeon encounter tables by level (2 pages)
    • Example dungeon session (2 pages)
    • Wilderness strongholds and their inhabitants (2 pages)
    • Wilderness encounters (2 pages)
    • Wilderness encounter tables by terrain (2 pages)
    • Evasion and pursuit (1 page)
    • Construction of castles and strongholds (4 pages)
    • Mass combat (3 pages)
    • Naval combat (8 pages)

Men & Magic contains almost all of the player interface to D&D. In that sense, it is the precursor to the Player’s Handbook. It has the character generation rules (including special powers), equipment, the way combat and advancement work and a few aspects of implied setting that impinge on PCs (such as alignment). Most modifications of this material will increase the cost of entry for new players.

Monsters & Treasure contains the risks and the rewards. It also interfaces with the advancement rules (because of XP for GP), but not in a player-facing way. That is, players know from Men & Magic that XP is rewarded for treasure, but the rules in this book encode the frequency and distribution of the rewards. Several subsystems (such as dragon subdual) are described here, which PCs should probably know about, but these can easily be introduced diegetically within the game as necessary. This material is relatively modular and it easily swapped out for custom monsters and treasures.

The Underworld & Wilderness Adventure encodes the three different game modes. These modes also correspond roughly to three different campaign phases: low-level dungeon crawls, mid-level wilderness adventures, and high-level domain rules (stronghold building and mass combat). Each of these modes makes use of the previous mode (for example, mid-level characters still have encounters in dungeons or rooms). This book is almost entirely for the referee (and thus is a predecessor to the later Dungeon Master’s Guide), and provides tools for setting building (stocking dungeons and generating NPC strongholds). The evasion rules probably count partly as player-facing rules. The mass combat rules should also probably be considered player-facing, but most games don’t actually get to that stage in my experience.

So what is the core of D&D? The aspects of characters that are class invariant (ability scores, mostly). The way combat works. The advancement system and incentives (that is, what is XP rewarded for). This makes up 10 to 12 pages depending on if you include equipment. The domain rules if your campaigns reach high levels. Classes and races are extra character generation options; the core game can be played without them (18 of the pages in Men & Magic are dedicated to classes and spells). Hirelings and inheritance rules occupy a strange place in the rules. Superficially, they look like setting details that are included here because they are part of the player interface, but in terms of how the game plays they are probably more integral than classes and special abilities like spells or turning.

Consider Carcosa as a case study. It is built on Men & Magic, but the only classes allowed are traditional fighters and the new sorcerer. Monsters are mostly custom (though there are a few creatures in common with the traditional game, such as mummies and oozes). Treasure is replaced with space alien technology and ancient technological artifacts. The underworld is only hinted at obliquely, but the wilderness is given by example (hex descriptions) rather than formula.

Thus abstracting the sections marked out above, this is what you might replace when building your own custom version of D&D:

  • Player’s Interface
    • Classes & races (and powers such as spells)
    • Equipment (this implies places to buy equipment)
    • XP incentives (this will determine the type of adventures)
  • Referee’s Interface
    • Systems
      • Time keeping and resource tracking
      • Non-combat resolution (searching, traps, etc)
      • Encounters; surprise, initiative, etc
    • Setting
      • Bestiary
      • Treasures
      • Encounter tables by terrain type or region
      • Map or terrain generation system
      • Dungeon and dungeon stocking guidelines
      • Hex stocking system (not really present in OD&D)

I believe the above list to be entirely genre-independent at this level of abstraction, though you may need to add other layers of maps for games that allow space travel. If you work through those elements, my thesis is that you will have the smallest complete setting that could potentially satisfy all aspects of the original game. Am I missing anything?

Surprisingly, the part of the 3 LBBs that feels most lacking to me is actually the part that I also think is most unique and valuable, at least compared to other similar games (because it’s usually totally absent): wilderness stocking rules. TU&WA punts by only giving you half of a system. The referee is instructed to get a copy of the Wilderness Survival hex map (page 15):

OUTDOOR SURVIVAL has a playing board perfect for general adventures. Catch basins are castles, buildings are towns, and the balance of the terrain is as indicated.

Then rules are provided for generating the inhabitants of the stronghold and for interacting with the stronghold (including very interesting guidelines for the occupants venturing out to meet adventurers). And random encounter tables are provided for other wilderness inhabitants. Now, this is not bad, but I still find myself somewhat blocked when I go to create a wilderness area. Basically, I think the wilderness setting guidelines in the 3 LBBs are more example than generator, so anyone that is building a setting from scratch will need to come up with their own system (something similar to the dungeon stocking system is what I am experimenting with, but it still requires some modifications).

Meaning first

There has recently been another round of discussion about associative and dissociative mechanics. Here is Justin Alexander’s restatement of his original thesis, a post by Zak about diegetic and extradiegetic thinking, Carter Soles on healing surges, and Jeff on whether or not the d30 rule is dissociated. Zak doesn’t use the words “associated” or “dissociated” anywhere, but it’s really the same issue from a different angle. Are players reasoning about cause and effect within the game world or within the structure of the rules?

Consider two examples:

  1. The Labyrinth Lord spell “levitate” (LL page 33):

    For a number of turns equal to the casters level +6 turns, the caster can move up and down as he wishes. The caster mentally directs movement up or down as much as 20 feet each round. The caster cannot move horizontally, but could clamber along the face of a cliff, for example, or push against a ceiling to move laterally (generally at half base land speed).

  2. The Fourth Edition level seven fighter power “come and get it” (4E Player’s Handbook page 80):

    Every enemy (but not ally) within a 15 foot radius is shifted two squares (10 feet) and become adjacent to you do so, and then you get to make a weapon vs. AC attack against them.

In the first example, the meaning is primary. The caster is no longer subject to the limitations of gravity, and can move themselves around at some set speed. In the second example, the effect is primary. Enemies come to the PC to be hit. We don’t know why. Did the PC taunt the enemies? Did the PC lasso the enemies? Either might make sense in different cases, and many people don’t bother at all with narrative explanations. Obviously, it is not an either/or thing, but one of association or dissociation is usually dominant. In the first example, the duration in turns is somewhat dissociated (why would levitation only be available in game-convenient durations that are a multiple of ten minutes?), but unobtrusively so.

The common example of a limited martial resource (such as a daily power) as a dissociated mechanic is really just a special case of this more general “meaning first” or “effect first” principle. It is easier to make a balanced game using effect first design, which is why 4E leans so heavily on dissociated mechanics, as mathematical balance was an important goal for that system.

The examples above also show how this issue is orthogonal to realism. Levitating is obviously not realistic (at least based on my experience), but it is associated. Enemies moving toward you and then you hitting them is realistic, but it is dissociated. Why are they moving toward you? Why do you as a player have the ability to affect the movement of your enemies? You can come up with an after the fact narrative explanation, but the meaning is secondary and the effect is primary.

As has been noted in some of the links above, there are some dissociated mechanics in traditional D&D too. Hit points and experience points are notable. To elaborate, the effects of gaining a level are primary (more staying power, additional spell capability, followers, whatever), and the narrative explanation is after the fact. Was the PC training? Did a demon grant them extra power? We often don’t know. HP and damage are probably the most problematic. How can cure light wounds help with the loss of luck and fatigue? We can come up with an explanation, but it’s certainly not obvious. Weapon and armor restrictions are another common dissociated irritant that has prompted many house rules, my own included (see here for weapon damage by hit die and a system to do away with armor restrictions).

The major difference, as I see it, in how new school games and old school games do things is that the dissociated mechanics of old school games affect encounter-based problem solving less than they do in new school games. And when they do affect problem solving (perhaps equipping every character in OD&D with daggers because they are cheaper and all weapons do 1d6 damage) that is considered pathological, and either fixed with house rules or condemned as against the spirit of the game. From the standpoint of creative problem solving, if meaning is first, the potential effects are limitless, and this is in my opinion why many people are uncomfortable with the extensive use of effect-first mechanics.

Edit: I’m sure this post was influenced by On the Failure of Tactical Combat over at Hack & Slash (though his post focuses, unsurprisingly, more on combat). So go read that too.

First Level Clerics & Spells

There is a really insightful comment over at Grognardling by Mike Monaco (quoted partially) about clerics:

Clerics in B/X don’t get a spell at first level so they spend the first few adventures UNABLE to heal people. This gives them a chance to learn more roles, like throwing holy water, turning undead, backing up the fighters or defending the mages, and so on.

1974 D&D and the various incarnations of basic (Holmes, Moldvay, Mentzer, and the Rules Cyclopedia) do not give clerics a spell at first level. Strangely, some of the retro-clones (Labyrinth Lord, LotFP) do give first level clerics a spell. The clones that don’t are Swords & Wizardry Core, Swords & Wizardry WhiteBox, and Original Edition Characters for Labyrinth Lord. I believe the AD&D Player’s Handbook was the first place that first-level clerics are given a spell, though more knowledgeable people can correct me if I am wrong.

In any case, I much prefer the no spell at first level version of the cleric. It highlights the martial aspect of the character class, which I think is very important to the cleric as demon hunter and crusader rather than purveyor of cure light wounds.

Maturity & Gaming

Back in the 90s, when I played Second Edition (this was the edition I started with), my friends and I almost always used 4d6, drop the lowest, re-roll 1s, and arrange to taste when rolling up characters. Max HP were generally awarded at first level. I usually played elves, most commonly elven wizards. I often came up with relatively intricate back stories for characters before play, and our characters rarely died (though we did not consciously run a “low lethality” game; such things were not considered). We enjoyed the process of rolling dice, mostly for the variation they introduced, but we didn’t want randomness to rob us of whatever our predetermined vision was.

By that point in TSR’s history, many of the core elements of the original game had become obscured or removed. For example, some of our characters had animal companions or other minions, but we didn’t really play with hirelings. We scorned random encounters, never used reaction rolls, didn’t use hex maps, and ignored all manner of other early techniques (mostly, now that I understand them, to the detriment of our games). This was also certainly affected by the amateur thespian advice littered around the Second Edition books, and the rise of the White Wolf Storyteller games around the same time (which all the older, more sophisticated kids were playing). I flirted a bit with The World of Darkness in high school, but even at that time D&D was always my game of choice.

I wonder, though, if play style is somewhat generational, not in terms of when you were born, but in terms of maturity level. I started playing during my adolescence, and much of one’s life during that period is about defining yourself. Thus, I think there is a strong pull towards wish fulfillment play (“this is what I want to be”). Gary and Dave, when they originally developed D&D, were obviously not in that sort of mental space. They were already mature adults, and were building an intricate game informed by their wargaming experience. There is still a strong strain of childlike wonder present, but that is different than wish fulfillment. To perhaps oversimplify, if adolescence is about self creation, then maturity is about self discovery. The parallels with “character builds” and its alternative “development through play” should be obvious, I think.

Hex Stocking

I’m in the process of trying to come up with a random hex stocking method that works for me. My point of departure is the traditional dungeon stocking method:

  • 1-2 monster (3 in 6 chance of treasure)
  • 3 trap (2 in 6 chance of treasure)
  • 4 special
  • 5-6 empty (1 in 6 chance of treasure)

In the context of wilderness stocking, “monster” would be interpreted as a lair or dungeon, “trap” as a hazard of some sort (or perhaps an abandoned ruin that is uninhabited but still dangerous), and “special” as everything else (including, probably, settlements). Each of those categories could have a subtable or set of subtables to determine the type of lair, etc. I want to keep the system as simple as possible, but I think I need more than this for inspiration, because I don’t find myself actually finishing a stocking process. That’s a sign to me that I need more help from the tables.

One thing that is blocking me is how settlements interact with the stocking. I could just place the settlements, and then stock the areas between them, but I kind of want the generator to do that work for me. It seems that there are really only three or four meaningful settlement sizes for my purposes here. Stronghold, town, village, and isolated settlement (outpost, traveler’s inn, farmstead, etc). Maybe half of the special results would result in some kind of occupied settlement. Ruins would be covered in the monster, trap, and empty (when with treasure) results on the main table.

I don’t care much about things like logical food supplies (I can come up with after the fact explanations), but I do sort of like the idea of graduated civilization and wilderness. Here is another place where three or four categories seem appropriate: civilization (town, fortress, etc), threatened ground (the border between civilization and wilderness), and wilderness. There is a mathematical choice to be made regarding how this works: should the stocking roll be independent or related to results in adjacent hexes? If the process is independent, then we can infer the level of civilization (and thus danger) from the resulting distribution, which will end up being regular.

If it is dependent, then the process would be more like an organic outgrowth from some seed hex (probably the starting town), which would have some chance of going down in civilization level and some chance of going up. The chance of civilization level decreasing as you expand outwards would probably be greater than the chance of civilization level increasing, resulting in a setting that is dominated by wilderness (and thus adventure opportunities). Victor Raymond uses a system like this to generate terrain type in his Wilderness Architect series of articles in Fight On! (issues #2 and #3). He places settlements by determining random direction and distance from the starting settlement.

So, to expand the the “4 special” hex result:

  1. Trick (magic statue, etc)
  2. Settlement
    1. Stronghold (50% chance includes another settlement)
    2. Town
    3. Village
    4. Outpost

The meaning of this table (based on expected values): 1 in 12 hexes will contain a settlement, and 1 in 48 hexes will contain a stronghold. Following the DCC recommendation of 100 miles square, I am considering approximately 16 x 16 six mile hexes, which is 256 hexes (and also compatible with my ideas on hex zooming). Overall, such a wilderness would have (approximately) 86 lairs, 86 empty hexes, 43 specials (21 of which would be settlements) and 43 hazards. How does that distribution look? One thing that does not seem quite right is that an outpost is just as likely as a stronghold using this scheme, but on the other hand this will lead to around 5 strongholds on the map, which seems to be about right (especially if they are of varying levels of power and influence). Also, the “monster” result would include things like bandit forts and the towers of evil magicians.

Any ideas welcome.

Magic Disciplines

I read this post over at The Mule Abides about Starting Magic-User Spells, and for some reason that got me thinking about how higher level spells often seem to be improved versions of lower level spells. With a bit of mental flexibility, many spells almost feel like they belong in a progression. For example, consider a hypothetical discipline “gravity” with the following effects: floating disc, levitation, fly, telekinesis. Or a discipline “interposition” with the following effects: shield, protection from normal missiles, globe of invulnerability.

Extending this idea further, what if magic-users just had access to the discipline as a whole and never needed to learn (or prepare) individual spells? Higher level effects would just be harder to cast. Following the conventions of the 3 LBBs and B/X, there are six levels of effects (or spells) within each discipline. Spells are not learned; disciplines are determined at first level.

A magic-user gets one discipline, plus one additional discipline per point of intelligence bonus. All magic-users would get the metamagic discipline for free. Yes, this means that magic-users with a higher intelligence are more flexible, but we’re all playing 3d6 in order, no? A magic-user with an 18 intelligence is assumed to be a rare an wondrous occurrence. For example, a magic-user with an intelligence of 14 would have access to two spells, determined randomly (or selected, you cheater). It is not possible to switch disciplines after character creation.

The system I am envisioning for casting is similar to these variations of Vancian magic, but magic-users don’t need to prepare any spells beforehand. They may cast any spell which is of level less than or equal to half caster level (rounded up). For example, a 3rd level wizard may cast up to second level spells. When casting a spell, a magic-user must make a saving throw versus spells. Upon success, they may use spells from the discipline again in the same day. Upon failure (but not a roll of 1) the spell still goes off, but the magic-user may use no spells from that discipline again until they have had a good night’s sleep and studied magic books. If a 1 is rolled, the spell fails or backfires in some inconvenient manner (use the spell fumble system of your choice).

Higher level effects may be attempted, but at greater risk. The same procedure is used as above, but the saving throw takes a penalty equal to the spell level, and the save must succeed for the spell to go off. A roll of 20 is always considered a success. Also, the fumble range is extended by the level of the spell. So, if a 4th level magic-user (max spell level: 2) is attempting to cast a 5th level spell, they roll their saving throw with a -5 penalty and the spell backfires on rolls of 1 through 6. This same procedure will obtain until the caster reaches 9th level, when the save penalty disappears and the fumble range drops to 1. In other words, the progression is not linear (though the base save versus spells does improve at 6th level and 11th level); this is intended. You don’t get it, and don’t get it, and then it finally clicks.

Thus, magic-users may attempt any effect at any level, though doing something like conjuring an elemental or attempting telekinesis at first level will almost certainly result in disaster. This could also be done with an ability check and some DC math, but I prefer the simplicity of the traditional saving throw. If possible, I wanted to build this system entirely with traditional D&D spells, using the more iconic ones where possible. Here is an (incomplete, preliminary) example of how the disciplines might look:

Discipline 1st 2nd 3rd 4th 5th 6th
Transmutation enlargements
polymorph self, polymorph others transmute rock to mud stone-flesh
Illusion phantasmal forces hallucinatory terrain projected image
Divination detect magic locate object clairvoyance wizard eye contact higher plane
Necromancy VAMPIRIC TOUCH animate dead, magic jar death spell
Destruction magic missile fireball disintegrate
Ward protection from evil prot. from evil 10′ radius
Shield shield protection from normal missiles anti-magic shell
Domination charm person forget confusion feeblemind geas
Thuraturgy knock, wizard lock pass-wall
Gravity floating disc levitate fly telekinesis
Stasis hold portal web hold person hold monster
Optics light invisibility,  invisibility 10′ radius massmorph
Energy shocking grasp lightning bolt
Summon conjure elemental invisible stalker
Space rope trick dimension door teleport
Metamagic read magic dispel magic remove curse

Spells that look like this are originally from OD&D.
Spells that look like this are originally from Holmes.
Spells that look like this are originally from B/X.
Spells that look like this are originally from AD&D.
SPELLS THAT LOOK LIKE THIS ARE ORIGINALLY FROM 2E.

Note that by “originally” I mean showed up in a major ruleset; they may have also appeared earlier in a periodical like The Dragon or Strategic Review; this is not intended as an historical treatise. That being said, any corrections are still welcome. Shield, magic missile, and ventriloquism were from Supplement I: Greyhawk, not the 3 LBBs. Merciful Shiva, but the spell list exploded in Second Edition!

Ideally, I would have one spell per discipline per level. Sorry about the overloading of terminology; I hope the meaning is clear. Though maybe it’s okay if a few disciplines are just inherently more dangerous, like necromancy or summoning. In a final system, the level of a few effects would probably be adjusted (for example, animate dead could be level four).

This system seems to have several benefits:

  • Familiar D&D spell effects
  • Simple character generation
  • No time spent selecting prepared spells
  • Risk/reward trade-offs
  • Genre flavor (apprentices overreaching their power, etc)
  • Each discipline could be given to a player as a one-page handout
There are a few downsides too:
  • No spells as treasure (at least not in the traditional manner)
  • Scroll rules would need to be revised
  • Potentially more powerful magic-users?

This almost ends up looking like a White Wolf power system (three circles in celerity allows you to do X, Y, and Z) but with traditional D&D effects. Such a system would work well for cleric spells too (for example: purify food and drink, create water, create food), though I’m not sure the flavor works unless you are merging the spell lists like Akrasia’s colors of magic system.

Okay, the data part of this post is not quite complete, but it is taking way too long to cross reference all the rule books, so I’m just going to go ahead and hit publish, and if I still care later I’ll come back and finish that part. In any case, the idea should be clear.

OD&D ability scores

Ability scores are explained on pages 10, 11, and 12 of Men & Magic. Here is an alternate presentation.

Abilities
3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18
Str Ftr XP -20% -10% +5% +10%
Int M-U XP -20% -10% +5% +10%
Lang. Common + Alignment +1 +2 +3 +4 +5 +6 +7 +8
Wis Clr XP -20% -10% +5% +10%
Con HP -1 per HD +1 per HD
Survive 40-50% 60-90% 100%
Dex Missile -1 +1
Cha Hirelings 1 2 3 4 5 6 12
Loyalty -2 -1 +1 +2 +4

I think this table makes the effects of ability scores much clearer without needing to shoehorn them into a common pattern. This table could be printed on character sheets, and then the character attributes could be circled, or highlighted like a bar graph, as shown below.

5E Playtest Reactions

I ran the playtest module for my group yesterday evening. There were five players, so all the pregen characters were in play. I didn’t bother with any backstory or justification, since we expected to play this as a one-shot. Reaction was almost entirely positive. The player who (I thought) was the biggest 4E fan said he didn’t miss anything from Fourth Edition, though he thought it played differently. Everybody enjoyed the advantage and disadvantage mechanic. We got about 2.5 hours of solid game play in (this is about average for us, since we game after work).

Here is some player feedback:

  • Uncertain about the healer’s kit mechanic. It seems like a strange requirement if HP are supposed to be abstract. Also, it might lead to PCs carrying too many healer’s kits.
  • They would have appreciated a bit more healing. My players are used to 4E healing surges though. They thought the clerics needed to prepare specific spells also, so they probably should have had a few extra healing spells following the rules as written exactly.
  • They liked constitution + hit die for starting HP, though it seemed high to me.
  • Simplified action economy was appreciated, though some sort of limited “parting shot” type of opportunity attack was suggested (I believe 1E and 2E had simplified disengagement rules that might work well).
  • Everyone liked split movement, myself included.
  • The cleric of Moradin (dubbed “clericadin” by the player) was played aggressively, as I would expect a traditional plate + mace cleric to be played.
  • The wizard player liked the balance of at-will cantrips and prepared spells.
  • One player said she missed the battle mat. She felt like she had to continually ask me to redescribe the physical relationships during combat. I do run some 4E combats without minis, so this was not entirely new, but when there are lots of combatants we usually use minis.

The PCs went in cave D first, one of the goblin lairs, not trying to be especially stealthy. They wandered into a dead end and were ambushed by a patrol of 6 goblins. They routed those goblins, killing half of them and letting the remaining survivors escape to warn the others. They went deeper, following the fleeing goblins anyways, and got caught in a heavy melee with more goblins who had overturned a table to use as a barrier.

The goblins had already taken the opportunity to pay the ogre, so the party ended up trapped between a group of goblins and an ogre from the rear. The wizard cut off any chance of parlay with the ogre by a shocking grasp to the nether regions, resulting in one very angry ogre. They ultimately prevailed, looted the ogre’s cave (giving the remaining goblins time to build barricades from storeroom junk and prepare). They ended up defeating those goblins too (though the leader escaped).

Some other highlights:

  • A goblin was frozen to the ground with a ray of frost and two of the PCs held a dexterity contest to determine who could get to it first.
  • The cleric of Moradin sampled the invisibility potion and his lips became invisible. This led to many “why so serious” references. He also got drunk off the ogre’s brandy, so we got to test the intoxicated rules.

My feedback as referee:

  • The ogre had too many HP.
  • The frontal assault strategy they chose certainly would have gotten everyone killed if we had been playing B/X. One PC was briefly in negative territory.
  • The rules seemed to promote creative tactical play without much overhead. For example, the halfling jumped on the ogre’s and stabbed him in the back repeatedly while the ogre flailed around trying to get the halfling off (attacks at disadvantage, I have him an intelligence check chance to think about slamming the halfling against the wall, but he failed that check).
  • There was little resource management, but it would have been hard for that to come through in a one-shot anyways. The rules currently seem to be of two minds on this. On the one hand, at-will light cantrip. On the other hand, healer’s kit, antitoxin, and healing potion.