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Showing posts with label combat systems. Show all posts
Showing posts with label combat systems. Show all posts

Thursday, April 21, 2011

Wizards' Duels And Countering Spells

One of the great voids in Dungeons and Dragons is the absence of a spell-countering or wizard-dueling mechanic.

The current magical combat system is rolled in with the martial combat system, which is derived from the wargames antecedent to D&D.

Using that mechanic, spells are cast during that player's combat turn, and the effects are applied shortly thereafter (unless a saving throw negates the spell effect).

Saving throws, as a way of countering spells, is a free (to the defender) and adequate mechanic, for those spells that affect a character, but what of those spells for which no saving throw is permitted, or for spells that do not affect a member directly? Currently, there is no way to counter those spells within moments of their casting. One must wait until the next round to attempt some kind of response to the previously-cast spell. Unfortunately, at that point, it is often too late to actually counter the effects of the first spell.

Here's an alternative. Any time a spell-caster invokes a spell, any other spell-caster can use their turn (assuming they have not already taken their action) to counter the invoked spell.

In order to do so, the second spell-caster must either have memorized the same spell, or have a memorized spell sufficiently similar (or opposite) in effect that it can be used to counter the effect of the first spell cast by the attacker.

Since the second caster is reacting, in real time, to the initial spell, there is a chance that her spell-countering will fail. Rolling 2d6, the second caster must roll an 8+ to successfully counter the first spell, but that is modified (to the defender's benefit) by the number of levels the defender is above the attacker's level, and by the level of the spell being expended in that defence. I say to her benefit, because if the defender is a lower level, or uses an inferior spell, she still gets the minimum 8+ chance to counter. Call it the Harry Potter effect.

For example, the attacker, a 3rd level MU, casts darkness, a 1st level spell. The defender, a 6th level MU, uses her turn to cast a 2nd level spell, continual light, to counter. Since the defender is 3 levels higher than the attacker, and is casting a spell 1 level higher, the defender gets to add 4 (3+1) to her roll to successfully counter.

Whether or not the defender is successful, that memorized spell used for countering is gone from her memory, and she has used her turn for that round.

But what of situations where the defending MU have already taken her turn or wishes to counter multiple spells? In those cases, some alternative spell-casting cost could be imposed (for example, the MU takes d6 of fatigue damage for each additional spell she wishes to counter, should she have already taken her turn).

Wizards' Duels And Countering Spells

One of the great voids in Dungeons and Dragons is the absence of a spell-countering or wizard-dueling mechanic.

The current magical combat system is rolled in with the martial combat system, which is derived from the wargames antecedent to D&D.

Using that mechanic, spells are cast during that player's combat turn, and the effects are applied shortly thereafter (unless a saving throw negates the spell effect).

Saving throws, as a way of countering spells, is a free (to the defender) and adequate mechanic, for those spells that affect a character, but what of those spells for which no saving throw is permitted, or for spells that do not affect a member directly? Currently, there is no way to counter those spells within moments of their casting. One must wait until the next round to attempt some kind of response to the previously-cast spell. Unfortunately, at that point, it is often too late to actually counter the effects of the first spell.

Here's an alternative. Any time a spell-caster invokes a spell, any other spell-caster can use their turn (assuming they have not already taken their action) to counter the invoked spell.

In order to do so, the second spell-caster must either have memorized the same spell, or have a memorized spell sufficiently similar (or opposite) in effect that it can be used to counter the effect of the first spell cast by the attacker.

Since the second caster is reacting, in real time, to the initial spell, there is a chance that her spell-countering will fail. Rolling 2d6, the second caster must roll an 8+ to successfully counter the first spell, but that is modified (to the defender's benefit) by the number of levels the defender is above the attacker's level, and by the level of the spell being expended in that defence. I say to her benefit, because if the defender is a lower level, or uses an inferior spell, she still gets the minimum 8+ chance to counter. Call it the Harry Potter effect.

For example, the attacker, a 3rd level MU, casts darkness, a 1st level spell. The defender, a 6th level MU, uses her turn to cast a 2nd level spell, continual light, to counter. Since the defender is 3 levels higher than the attacker, and is casting a spell 1 level higher, the defender gets to add 4 (3+1) to her roll to successfully counter.

Whether or not the defender is successful, that memorized spell used for countering is gone from her memory, and she has used her turn for that round.

But what of situations where the defending MU have already taken her turn or wishes to counter multiple spells? In those cases, some alternative spell-casting cost could be imposed (for example, the MU takes d6 of fatigue damage for each additional spell she wishes to counter, should she have already taken her turn).

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Supercharging Chainmail Combat

I'm a notorious critic of the d20 combat system, hit points, power creep and variable damage. Between the four of them, they are to blame for the ascension of granularity, and the endless combats that now pass for role-playing.

As i've mentioned before, you'd be hard-pressed to recognize any game as Dungeons and Dragons that fails to include hit points. Hit points are so deeply hard-wired into the D&D culture that most gamers would recoil from anything calling itself D&D that failed to include hit points.

But if I had my druthers, hit points would be tossed out the window of the D&D automobile, replaced by a simplified system of combat and wounds.

The original "Chainmail miniatures rules" was the default combat system for OD&D. Those Chainmail rules included three combat systems: mass combat, man-to-man combat, and fantasy combat, each of which were employed based on the particular circumstances of the encounter.

For the purposes of large-scale combats, with multiple opponents on either side, Chainmail's mass combat system is applied. The method for applying that system is that each combatant rolls a number of six-sided dice, which is based on her class and level. She counts the number of successful hits she achieves, and that is the number of hit dice of damage that she inflicts upon her opponent.

For example, a 4th level gladiatrix had the fighting capability of 4 women, so she rolls 4, six-sided dice to determine how many wounds she inflicts. She might need to roll a five or six to inflict a wound, so any fives and sixes she rolled will count as a wound upon her opponent.

If I understand my D&D history correctly, the addition of variable hit points was an Arnesian invention, adopted by Gygax, necessitated by the fragility of low-level characters. But if players are being honest about their hit points, it is nearly as likely as not that a single wound to a first-level character will result in death, regardless, if six-sided dice are used for both hit points and damage. Why not be honest about it and simply give starting characters an extra wound point or two, rather than perpetuate a fraud by introducing variable hit points as a solution to fragile low-level characters.

The Chainmail system works well, for fast, abstract combat, if there is a simple one-to-one relationship between the level of the character and the number of hit dice rolled to determine damage. But neither Chainmail nor OD&D make combat that simple. No class, not even the fighter, has a simple one-to-one relationship between level and hit dice rolled for wounding purposes in OD&D. The lack of a one-to-one relationship is the case because the OD&D rules assume that non-fighters will be less puissant at armed combat, and because only six-sided dice are employed.

In addition, in the Chainmail combat system, one needs to consult one of a half-dozen charts to determine what your odds of wounding are, based on the arms and armor of your opponent.

It is surprisingly easy to solve this problem, and Gygax himself promulgated the necessary polyhedral tools to do so. In the basic Chainmail mass-combat system, every character rolls a certain number of six-sided dice to determine whether, and how many times, they have wounded their opponent. In addition, in OD&D, Fighters are the most proficient in combat, followed by Clerics, Thieves and Magic-users.

Rather than using six-sided dice for all classes, then, why not use different dice for each class, with Fighters using the d6, Clerics the d8, Thieves the d10, and Magic-users the d12. Assuming that a roll of "1" is needed by each character in order to achieve a wound upon her opponent, first level Fighters would have a 17% chance, Clerics a 13% chance, Thieves 10% and Magic-users 8%. That would satisfy the OD&D assumption that different classes have different combat abilities.

Additionally, armor classes could be rationalized into four categories: 4 (no armor), 3 (light armor), 2 (medium armor), and 1 (heavy armor). That would be the same number, or less, that any character would need to roll, in order to achieve a wound upon their opponent.

Shields would act as a second-level defence, to block otherwise successful attacks, with some probability attached to deflecting blow(s), based on the size of the shield and perhaps the number of opponents the character is facing.

That, then is my crudely developed solution to the complexities of Chainmail combat, and desire to simplify and speed up battles, so there is more time for exploration and role-playing at the gaming table.

Supercharging Chainmail Combat

I'm a notorious critic of the d20 combat system, hit points, power creep and variable damage. Between the four of them, they are to blame for the ascension of granularity, and the endless combats that now pass for role-playing.

As i've mentioned before, you'd be hard-pressed to recognize any game as Dungeons and Dragons that fails to include hit points. Hit points are so deeply hard-wired into the D&D culture that most gamers would recoil from anything calling itself D&D that failed to include hit points.

But if I had my druthers, hit points would be tossed out the window of the D&D automobile, replaced by a simplified system of combat and wounds.

The original "Chainmail miniatures rules" was the default combat system for OD&D. Those Chainmail rules included three combat systems: mass combat, man-to-man combat, and fantasy combat, each of which were employed based on the particular circumstances of the encounter.

For the purposes of large-scale combats, with multiple opponents on either side, Chainmail's mass combat system is applied. The method for applying that system is that each combatant rolls a number of six-sided dice, which is based on her class and level. She counts the number of successful hits she achieves, and that is the number of hit dice of damage that she inflicts upon her opponent.

For example, a 4th level gladiatrix had the fighting capability of 4 women, so she rolls 4, six-sided dice to determine how many wounds she inflicts. She might need to roll a five or six to inflict a wound, so any fives and sixes she rolled will count as a wound upon her opponent.

If I understand my D&D history correctly, the addition of variable hit points was an Arnesian invention, adopted by Gygax, necessitated by the fragility of low-level characters. But if players are being honest about their hit points, it is nearly as likely as not that a single wound to a first-level character will result in death, regardless, if six-sided dice are used for both hit points and damage. Why not be honest about it and simply give starting characters an extra wound point or two, rather than perpetuate a fraud by introducing variable hit points as a solution to fragile low-level characters.

The Chainmail system works well, for fast, abstract combat, if there is a simple one-to-one relationship between the level of the character and the number of hit dice rolled to determine damage. But neither Chainmail nor OD&D make combat that simple. No class, not even the fighter, has a simple one-to-one relationship between level and hit dice rolled for wounding purposes in OD&D. The lack of a one-to-one relationship is the case because the OD&D rules assume that non-fighters will be less puissant at armed combat, and because only six-sided dice are employed.

In addition, in the Chainmail combat system, one needs to consult one of a half-dozen charts to determine what your odds of wounding are, based on the arms and armor of your opponent.

It is surprisingly easy to solve this problem, and Gygax himself promulgated the necessary polyhedral tools to do so. In the basic Chainmail mass-combat system, every character rolls a certain number of six-sided dice to determine whether, and how many times, they have wounded their opponent. In addition, in OD&D, Fighters are the most proficient in combat, followed by Clerics, Thieves and Magic-users.

Rather than using six-sided dice for all classes, then, why not use different dice for each class, with Fighters using the d6, Clerics the d8, Thieves the d10, and Magic-users the d12. Assuming that a roll of "1" is needed by each character in order to achieve a wound upon her opponent, first level Fighters would have a 17% chance, Clerics a 13% chance, Thieves 10% and Magic-users 8%. That would satisfy the OD&D assumption that different classes have different combat abilities.

Additionally, armor classes could be rationalized into four categories: 4 (no armor), 3 (light armor), 2 (medium armor), and 1 (heavy armor). That would be the same number, or less, that any character would need to roll, in order to achieve a wound upon their opponent.

Shields would act as a second-level defence, to block otherwise successful attacks, with some probability attached to deflecting blow(s), based on the size of the shield and perhaps the number of opponents the character is facing.

That, then is my crudely developed solution to the complexities of Chainmail combat, and desire to simplify and speed up battles, so there is more time for exploration and role-playing at the gaming table.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Magical Swords In ODnD

Magic swords in Original Dungeons and Dragons were far more potent that most people give them credit.

That is doubly true when using the Chainmail combat rules, rather than the "alternative" (d20) combat system. That alternative, d20 combat system diluted the power of those magic swords, and it, along with the innovation of hit points, were a baleful influence on future versions of D&D.

Remembering that the Chainmail combat rules were ODnD's original, default rules, this quote from Chainmail gives some indication of how magic swords were first viewed by Gygax as he penned ODnD:

"Magic Swords: because these weapons are almost entities in themselves, they accrue real advantage to the figure so armed. In normal combat they merely add an extra die. It is in fantastic combat the magical swords are most potent. Besides allowing Elves to combat certain fantastic figures, they give a plus 1 to the dice score when employing the Fantasy Combat Table, and Magical Swords shed a light of their own over a circle 12" in diameter (6" radius) which dispels darkness but does not equal full light. Excalibur and other 'super swords' would give a plus two or three!"
-- Chainmail, p.38

"Merely" adds an extra die? In mentioning the addition of an extra die, Gygax refers, of course, to the use of d6's, in Chainmail's normal (mass) combat rules, to determine the chance of wounding one's opponent. Using Chainmail's normal (mass) combat rules, and assuming both combatants are "armored footmen", either combatant needs to score a 6, on a single d6, to wound his opponent. The combatant with the magic sword, who adds an extra d6, needs to roll a 6 on either of his 2d6, and therefore has a 31% (11/36) chance of wounding his opponent, while the combatant, without the magic sword, has a 17% (1/6) chance of doing the same.

Put another way, that +1 sword, in ODnD, is actually a +3 sword, if you were to convert the odds of wounding over to the alternative, d20 combat system (you need an 18+ on a d20 without the magic sword, or a 15+ with the magic sword). Add to that, the 3% (1/36) chance that the magic-sword-weilding-combatant will score two wounds, and that humble +1 sword looks potent indeed!

Gygax's reference to the "addition of an extra die in normal combat" is more problematic (and potentially powerful), when you consider its application to Chainmail's man-to-man combat rules. Taking the "addition of an extra die" at face value, you could interpret this to mean you roll 3d6, instead of 2d6, when consulting the man-to-man combat table. Again, assuming the employment of our ubiquitous +1 sword, against an opponent with Plate Armor and a Shield, our odds improve from 11+ on 2d6 (3/36 or 8%) to 11+ on 3d6 (109/216 or 50%).

Again, converting this to the alternative, d20 combat system, that +1 sword actually improves my chances of wounding my opponent, from 19+, to 11+. My +1 sword just became a +8 sword!

Even if you dismiss that extreme interpretation, in favor of a more reasonable +1 to the dice score on the man-to-man table, your run-of-the-mill +1 magic sword is still very potent. Against Plate, your odds of wounding improve from 17% to 28%. Against other types of armor, your odds improve from 42% to 58%. Those odds turn that simple +1 sword into a +2 or +3 sword, when converted to the alternative, d20 combat system.

I see no evidence in ODnD that magic swords were considered to be anything but the puissant and dangerous items suggested by the Chainmail rules. In addition to the above combat bonuses, there was a 50% chance that a magic sword would have sufficient Intelligence to have a Will of its own, which it would attempt to impose upon its wielder:

"Swords: among magic weaponry, swords alone possess certain human attributes. Swords have an alignment, and intelligence factor and an egoism rating .... If the Intelligence/Egoism of the sword is six or more points above that of the character who picks it up, the sword will control the person ...." -- D&D Volume II, Monsters & Treasure, p. 27

This was the case, even of the lowly +1 magic sword. Indeed, those +1 swords had a 50% chance of having some special power, a 25% chance of talking, and 17% chance of reading magic or having some other extraordinary ability.

The most powerful sword bonus in ODnD was +3, and for good reason. A +3 sword would truly have been the equivalent of an Excalibur or Stormbringer, particularly if the sword had high intelligence, ego, and several extraordinary abilities to boot. The dilution of the magic sword, first, by the introduction (without adjustment of the odds) of the alternative, d20 combat system, and second, by the introduction of hit points and accompanying applications of 'bonuses to damage' instead of additional wounds, along with a host of additional features to add "granularity" to D&D, led us to the current morass of +16 Swords of Valiant Smiting and Characters with 40 hit points at first level.

Magical Swords In ODnD

Magic swords in Original Dungeons and Dragons were far more potent that most people give them credit.

That is doubly true when using the Chainmail combat rules, rather than the "alternative" (d20) combat system. That alternative, d20 combat system diluted the power of those magic swords, and it, along with the innovation of hit points, were a baleful influence on future versions of D&D.

Remembering that the Chainmail combat rules were ODnD's original, default rules, this quote from Chainmail gives some indication of how magic swords were first viewed by Gygax as he penned ODnD:

"Magic Swords: because these weapons are almost entities in themselves, they accrue real advantage to the figure so armed. In normal combat they merely add an extra die. It is in fantastic combat the magical swords are most potent. Besides allowing Elves to combat certain fantastic figures, they give a plus 1 to the dice score when employing the Fantasy Combat Table, and Magical Swords shed a light of their own over a circle 12" in diameter (6" radius) which dispels darkness but does not equal full light. Excalibur and other 'super swords' would give a plus two or three!"
-- Chainmail, p.38

"Merely" adds an extra die? In mentioning the addition of an extra die, Gygax refers, of course, to the use of d6's, in Chainmail's normal (mass) combat rules, to determine the chance of wounding one's opponent. Using Chainmail's normal (mass) combat rules, and assuming both combatants are "armored footmen", either combatant needs to score a 6, on a single d6, to wound his opponent. The combatant with the magic sword, who adds an extra d6, needs to roll a 6 on either of his 2d6, and therefore has a 31% (11/36) chance of wounding his opponent, while the combatant, without the magic sword, has a 17% (1/6) chance of doing the same.

Put another way, that +1 sword, in ODnD, is actually a +3 sword, if you were to convert the odds of wounding over to the alternative, d20 combat system (you need an 18+ on a d20 without the magic sword, or a 15+ with the magic sword). Add to that, the 3% (1/36) chance that the magic-sword-weilding-combatant will score two wounds, and that humble +1 sword looks potent indeed!

Gygax's reference to the "addition of an extra die in normal combat" is more problematic (and potentially powerful), when you consider its application to Chainmail's man-to-man combat rules. Taking the "addition of an extra die" at face value, you could interpret this to mean you roll 3d6, instead of 2d6, when consulting the man-to-man combat table. Again, assuming the employment of our ubiquitous +1 sword, against an opponent with Plate Armor and a Shield, our odds improve from 11+ on 2d6 (3/36 or 8%) to 11+ on 3d6 (109/216 or 50%).

Again, converting this to the alternative, d20 combat system, that +1 sword actually improves my chances of wounding my opponent, from 19+, to 11+. My +1 sword just became a +8 sword!

Even if you dismiss that extreme interpretation, in favor of a more reasonable +1 to the dice score on the man-to-man table, your run-of-the-mill +1 magic sword is still very potent. Against Plate, your odds of wounding improve from 17% to 28%. Against other types of armor, your odds improve from 42% to 58%. Those odds turn that simple +1 sword into a +2 or +3 sword, when converted to the alternative, d20 combat system.

I see no evidence in ODnD that magic swords were considered to be anything but the puissant and dangerous items suggested by the Chainmail rules. In addition to the above combat bonuses, there was a 50% chance that a magic sword would have sufficient Intelligence to have a Will of its own, which it would attempt to impose upon its wielder:

"Swords: among magic weaponry, swords alone possess certain human attributes. Swords have an alignment, and intelligence factor and an egoism rating .... If the Intelligence/Egoism of the sword is six or more points above that of the character who picks it up, the sword will control the person ...." -- D&D Volume II, Monsters & Treasure, p. 27

This was the case, even of the lowly +1 magic sword. Indeed, those +1 swords had a 50% chance of having some special power, a 25% chance of talking, and 17% chance of reading magic or having some other extraordinary ability.

The most powerful sword bonus in ODnD was +3, and for good reason. A +3 sword would truly have been the equivalent of an Excalibur or Stormbringer, particularly if the sword had high intelligence, ego, and several extraordinary abilities to boot. The dilution of the magic sword, first, by the introduction (without adjustment of the odds) of the alternative, d20 combat system, and second, by the introduction of hit points and accompanying applications of 'bonuses to damage' instead of additional wounds, along with a host of additional features to add "granularity" to D&D, led us to the current morass of +16 Swords of Valiant Smiting and Characters with 40 hit points at first level.

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Cunning, Comedy, Casual Cruelty?

If your answer to this question was The Dying Earth RPG, you'd be right.

The Dying Earth RPG is a role-playing game intended to emulate the world -- and words -- contained in Jack Vance's Dying Earth series of novels and short stories. You'll note that I did not include "Combat" in my alliterative title. I did this for a very simple reason: The Dying Earth RPG actively discourages you from engaging in mortal combat, and the game system reinforces that by making combat very deadly. You only need to take a couple of blows before your character is out-of-commission, or more likely, dead.

What then is The Dying Earth RPG about? It's about clever repartee, social combat, cunning subterfuge, laughter, and casual cruelty.

Clever Repartee

The principle game mechanic of nearly any role-playing game is the system governing the accumulation of experience points. Experience point award mechanics are important in role-playing games, as they are the mechanism permitting character upgrades. The experience point mechanic of an RPG is thus a powerful communicator of what is expected of a Player. In The Dying Earth RPG, experience points are ONLY awarded for clever repartee. No experience for combat. No experience for treasure. Just witty dialogue, elegantly framed in the Vancian style, and delivered with impeccable timing. Therefore, The Dying Earth RPG is a game like no other: it is a role-playing game to its very core.

Social Combat

I'm not a big fan of social combat systems. My reasoning is that those combat systems either encourage conflict between players (PvP conflict typically happens as a matter of course, but i'm not interested in encouraging it) or govern the interactions between player and DM (in which case, as a "fair" DM, you should be able to judge when you have been verbally bested and concede defeat, without having to resort to a die-roll). The Social Combat system in The Dying Earth RPG is based on dice pools. Each player (and any encountered NPCs) has a dice-pool made up of d6's, and can continue spending dice from their pool until they or their opponent has exhausted theirs. Scoring a 1-3 means failure, while a 4-6 means success, with the 1 and 6 being catastrophic failure and incredible success, respectively. Depending on your roll, your opponent may have to expend more, or fewer dice, to respond to your success or failure. This mechanic feels artificial to me, as I would rather engage in the actual role-playing, of two combatants trying to convince the other of the superiority of their position, but the dice-pool is a reasonable substitute, for those who are uncomfortable "talking with funny voices".

Cunning Subterfuge

Like the characters in Vance's Dying Earth books and short stories, each of the Player's characters are lazy, self-absorbed, covetous, avaricious, and arrogant. So are most of the NPC's they encounter. Therefore, the game resolves around the planning and execution of cunning strategems to gain wealth, comfort, power, prestige, fineries, and delicious food, with as little effort and risk as possible.

Laughter

As was mentioned earlier, experience points are awarded for clever repartee. This is accomplished through a mechanism whereby the DM provides several Vancian phrases to each player, prior to the start of the game session. They must weave those phrases into the game at some point during the session. For those who deliver their line, at an innapropriate time, no experience points are awarded. For those lines delivered when appropriate, but eliciting no positive response from the other game participants, one experience point is awarded. But when the line is delivered, and elicits positive responses, propels the adventure in a humorous or unexpected direction, or garners laughter from the other players and DM, two or even three experience points are awarded by the DM. Therefore, Players are encouraged to ham it up, directing the in-game conversations in such a way as to allow for the delivery of their appointed lines.

Casual Cruelty

Casual Cruelty, or "man's inhumanity to man", is a common theme in the tales of the Dying Earth. You see this in the Liane the Wayfarer stories, or in Cugel's treatment by, and of those he encounters in "The Eyes of the Overworld". The author of The Dying Earth exhorts the DM to insert scenes of casual cruelty (sparingly), establishing the nature of the cruelty, and allowing the imaginations of the players to fill in the horrifying details. He opines that a successful scene of casual cruelty will nag at the players after the game, as they think more fully of the implications.

The Dying Earth RPG allows you to run the full gamet of emotions during a role-playing session, from hilarity to horror. The Dying Earth RPG is clearly not for your typical hack-n-slasher, and is more appropriate for your more cerebral gamer. What I love about this game is its respect for the Vancian source material, and its overt discouragement of mortal combat, which is a refreshing change from the direction Dungeons and Dragons has recently been drawn to.

Cunning, Comedy, Casual Cruelty?

If your answer to this question was The Dying Earth RPG, you'd be right.

The Dying Earth RPG is a role-playing game intended to emulate the world -- and words -- contained in Jack Vance's Dying Earth series of novels and short stories. You'll note that I did not include "Combat" in my alliterative title. I did this for a very simple reason: The Dying Earth RPG actively discourages you from engaging in mortal combat, and the game system reinforces that by making combat very deadly. You only need to take a couple of blows before your character is out-of-commission, or more likely, dead.

What then is The Dying Earth RPG about? It's about clever repartee, social combat, cunning subterfuge, laughter, and casual cruelty.

Clever Repartee

The principle game mechanic of nearly any role-playing game is the system governing the accumulation of experience points. Experience point award mechanics are important in role-playing games, as they are the mechanism permitting character upgrades. The experience point mechanic of an RPG is thus a powerful communicator of what is expected of a Player. In The Dying Earth RPG, experience points are ONLY awarded for clever repartee. No experience for combat. No experience for treasure. Just witty dialogue, elegantly framed in the Vancian style, and delivered with impeccable timing. Therefore, The Dying Earth RPG is a game like no other: it is a role-playing game to its very core.

Social Combat

I'm not a big fan of social combat systems. My reasoning is that those combat systems either encourage conflict between players (PvP conflict typically happens as a matter of course, but i'm not interested in encouraging it) or govern the interactions between player and DM (in which case, as a "fair" DM, you should be able to judge when you have been verbally bested and concede defeat, without having to resort to a die-roll). The Social Combat system in The Dying Earth RPG is based on dice pools. Each player (and any encountered NPCs) has a dice-pool made up of d6's, and can continue spending dice from their pool until they or their opponent has exhausted theirs. Scoring a 1-3 means failure, while a 4-6 means success, with the 1 and 6 being catastrophic failure and incredible success, respectively. Depending on your roll, your opponent may have to expend more, or fewer dice, to respond to your success or failure. This mechanic feels artificial to me, as I would rather engage in the actual role-playing, of two combatants trying to convince the other of the superiority of their position, but the dice-pool is a reasonable substitute, for those who are uncomfortable "talking with funny voices".

Cunning Subterfuge

Like the characters in Vance's Dying Earth books and short stories, each of the Player's characters are lazy, self-absorbed, covetous, avaricious, and arrogant. So are most of the NPC's they encounter. Therefore, the game resolves around the planning and execution of cunning strategems to gain wealth, comfort, power, prestige, fineries, and delicious food, with as little effort and risk as possible.

Laughter

As was mentioned earlier, experience points are awarded for clever repartee. This is accomplished through a mechanism whereby the DM provides several Vancian phrases to each player, prior to the start of the game session. They must weave those phrases into the game at some point during the session. For those who deliver their line, at an innapropriate time, no experience points are awarded. For those lines delivered when appropriate, but eliciting no positive response from the other game participants, one experience point is awarded. But when the line is delivered, and elicits positive responses, propels the adventure in a humorous or unexpected direction, or garners laughter from the other players and DM, two or even three experience points are awarded by the DM. Therefore, Players are encouraged to ham it up, directing the in-game conversations in such a way as to allow for the delivery of their appointed lines.

Casual Cruelty

Casual Cruelty, or "man's inhumanity to man", is a common theme in the tales of the Dying Earth. You see this in the Liane the Wayfarer stories, or in Cugel's treatment by, and of those he encounters in "The Eyes of the Overworld". The author of The Dying Earth exhorts the DM to insert scenes of casual cruelty (sparingly), establishing the nature of the cruelty, and allowing the imaginations of the players to fill in the horrifying details. He opines that a successful scene of casual cruelty will nag at the players after the game, as they think more fully of the implications.

The Dying Earth RPG allows you to run the full gamet of emotions during a role-playing session, from hilarity to horror. The Dying Earth RPG is clearly not for your typical hack-n-slasher, and is more appropriate for your more cerebral gamer. What I love about this game is its respect for the Vancian source material, and its overt discouragement of mortal combat, which is a refreshing change from the direction Dungeons and Dragons has recently been drawn to.

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Harn Weapons And Armour

In the 1990's, I was briefly in love with Harn. For those who have been smitten, you'll know what I mean. Gorgeous maps. Intricate world-building. Complex character generation. Detailed combat. Harn seemingly promised those two holy grails of game design, granularity and verisimilitude.

My Harn materials are mostly gone now: lost in a garage fire. But a couple of items remain. The amazing maps, from Cities of Harn and Son of Cities, survived, as they were placed in a binder that followed me on several moves. I also have one or two Encyclopedia Harnica folios.

Some Harn-related notes and characters also survived, in the same binder as the Cities of Harn materials. Among the notes are lists of melee weapons and armor.

Melee weapons in Harn had three potential damage aspects. Every weapon is rated on how much damage it inflicts, if used to do blunt, edge or point damage. This system is not unlike the three weapon types in 2nd Edition AD&D: bludgeoning, slashing and piercing.

But while the AD&D 2E system gave each weapon only one (or at most, two) damage options, many weapons in Harn allow you to do damage with any of the three weapon aspects.

Let me give you a couple of examples.

The Handaxe is rated as Blunt 4, Edge 6, and Point 3. The Shortsword: Blunt 2, Edge 4, Point 4. The Glaive: Blunt 6, Edge 7, Point 7. The Falchion: Blunt 4, Edge 6, Point 1.

However, some weapons only do damage in one or two aspects. The Mace is only rated as Blunt 5. The Warhammer: Blunt 6, Point 4. The Throwing Dagger: Point 4.

Obviously, the benefit of having a weapon that can do damage in any of the three aspects is that the weapon is more versatile. All of the swords fit in that category, as do the Handaxe and Battleaxe. The flails and clubs do significant damage as well, but are limited to blunt damage only.

Armour, at least in the version of Harnmaster that I possessed, was needlessly complicated. Every type of armor was broken down into the types of armor pieces available for each of the 16 locations of the body. I might buy a short chain hauberk, combine it with some plate greaves, a ringmail half-helm, hardened leather vambraces, and quilt gambeson, and then need to figure out my coverage, for each of the 16 hit locations. What you gained in realism you lost in endless record-keeping.

I did like the Harn shield rules though. Different shields were more effective against different classes of weapons. Light shields were better against light weapons, while heavy shields provided more protection against heavy weapons.

Coming back to my favorite out-of-print boardgame, Avalon Hill's Magic Realm, the three weapon aspects of Harn combat (Blunt, Edge and Point) nicely line up with Magic Realm's three attack directions (Smash, Swing and Thrust). Like most of my half-formed ideas, i've long wanted to find a way to combine the Harn weapon aspects and Magic Realm matrix into a diceless or near-diceless combat system. My quixotic quest continues.

Harn Weapons And Armour

In the 1990's, I was briefly in love with Harn. For those who have been smitten, you'll know what I mean. Gorgeous maps. Intricate world-building. Complex character generation. Detailed combat. Harn seemingly promised those two holy grails of game design, granularity and verisimilitude.

My Harn materials are mostly gone now: lost in a garage fire. But a couple of items remain. The amazing maps, from Cities of Harn and Son of Cities, survived, as they were placed in a binder that followed me on several moves. I also have one or two Encyclopedia Harnica folios.

Some Harn-related notes and characters also survived, in the same binder as the Cities of Harn materials. Among the notes are lists of melee weapons and armor.

Melee weapons in Harn had three potential damage aspects. Every weapon is rated on how much damage it inflicts, if used to do blunt, edge or point damage. This system is not unlike the three weapon types in 2nd Edition AD&D: bludgeoning, slashing and piercing.

But while the AD&D 2E system gave each weapon only one (or at most, two) damage options, many weapons in Harn allow you to do damage with any of the three weapon aspects.

Let me give you a couple of examples.

The Handaxe is rated as Blunt 4, Edge 6, and Point 3. The Shortsword: Blunt 2, Edge 4, Point 4. The Glaive: Blunt 6, Edge 7, Point 7. The Falchion: Blunt 4, Edge 6, Point 1.

However, some weapons only do damage in one or two aspects. The Mace is only rated as Blunt 5. The Warhammer: Blunt 6, Point 4. The Throwing Dagger: Point 4.

Obviously, the benefit of having a weapon that can do damage in any of the three aspects is that the weapon is more versatile. All of the swords fit in that category, as do the Handaxe and Battleaxe. The flails and clubs do significant damage as well, but are limited to blunt damage only.

Armour, at least in the version of Harnmaster that I possessed, was needlessly complicated. Every type of armor was broken down into the types of armor pieces available for each of the 16 locations of the body. I might buy a short chain hauberk, combine it with some plate greaves, a ringmail half-helm, hardened leather vambraces, and quilt gambeson, and then need to figure out my coverage, for each of the 16 hit locations. What you gained in realism you lost in endless record-keeping.

I did like the Harn shield rules though. Different shields were more effective against different classes of weapons. Light shields were better against light weapons, while heavy shields provided more protection against heavy weapons.

Coming back to my favorite out-of-print boardgame, Avalon Hill's Magic Realm, the three weapon aspects of Harn combat (Blunt, Edge and Point) nicely line up with Magic Realm's three attack directions (Smash, Swing and Thrust). Like most of my half-formed ideas, i've long wanted to find a way to combine the Harn weapon aspects and Magic Realm matrix into a diceless or near-diceless combat system. My quixotic quest continues.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Old School Chainmail Combat, LOTR-Style

I have the "good fortune" to ride the train several times a week. That gives me the opportunity to do some reading, whether it be a book from my "appendix n" collection, catching up on the day's news, or perusing something from my gaming collection.

Today's pick was my gaming collection, specifically, Chainmail: rules for medieval miniatures, by Gary Gygax and Jeff Perren, first published in 1971. Now, you'd think i've pretty much exhausted whatever nuggets of wisdom could be mined from that old wargame ruleset. But my earlier post on Battle of Wits Combat Systems got me thinking about old-school combat, and what could be more old-school than Chainmail?

Lord Of The Rings Strategy Battle Game, apparently. Like Chainmail, LOTRSBG is a tabletop miniatures wargame that allows you to field fantastic monsters, orcs, goblins, trolls, wraiths, wizards and heroes, and conduct battles between them.

The above "Wound Chart" is from LOTRSBG. In the game, you compare your attacker's strength to your opponent's defence, and must roll the indicated number, or higher, on a d6, to score a kill. For example, my Warrior has an Stength of 3. Your Orc has a Defence of 5. I need to roll a 5+ on a d6 in order to kill your Orc.

In many ways, the LOTRSBG Wound Chart is very similar to the mass combat rules in Chainmail, except that Chainmail uses light foot, heavy foot, armoured foot, etc., rather than numerical attack and defence categories. Both Chainmail and LOTRSBG also give Heroes multiple dice when attacking opponents. In short, it has just about everything that Chainmail has.

LOTRSBG has rules for Initiative, Armor, Weapons, Movement, Shooting, Combat, Cavalry, Charging, Courage, Morale, Magic Weapons and Spells, Equipment, Seiges, Catapults, Fortresses, Heroes and Heroic actions, Climbing, Leadership, Rallying Troops, Monsters, High Ground, and Effects of Terrain on Movement.

If I was going to play a D&D game using the Chainmail mass combat rules, I might instead be tempted to adopt the LOTRSBG rules, because they are clearly written, readily available, and i'm guessing you could get an old version of the LOTRSBG rules for free, or nearly free, since the rules have been updated several times since 2001.

Old School Chainmail Combat, LOTR-Style

I have the "good fortune" to ride the train several times a week. That gives me the opportunity to do some reading, whether it be a book from my "appendix n" collection, catching up on the day's news, or perusing something from my gaming collection.

Today's pick was my gaming collection, specifically, Chainmail: rules for medieval miniatures, by Gary Gygax and Jeff Perren, first published in 1971. Now, you'd think i've pretty much exhausted whatever nuggets of wisdom could be mined from that old wargame ruleset. But my earlier post on Battle of Wits Combat Systems got me thinking about old-school combat, and what could be more old-school than Chainmail?

Lord Of The Rings Strategy Battle Game, apparently. Like Chainmail, LOTRSBG is a tabletop miniatures wargame that allows you to field fantastic monsters, orcs, goblins, trolls, wraiths, wizards and heroes, and conduct battles between them.

The above "Wound Chart" is from LOTRSBG. In the game, you compare your attacker's strength to your opponent's defence, and must roll the indicated number, or higher, on a d6, to score a kill. For example, my Warrior has an Stength of 3. Your Orc has a Defence of 5. I need to roll a 5+ on a d6 in order to kill your Orc.

In many ways, the LOTRSBG Wound Chart is very similar to the mass combat rules in Chainmail, except that Chainmail uses light foot, heavy foot, armoured foot, etc., rather than numerical attack and defence categories. Both Chainmail and LOTRSBG also give Heroes multiple dice when attacking opponents. In short, it has just about everything that Chainmail has.

LOTRSBG has rules for Initiative, Armor, Weapons, Movement, Shooting, Combat, Cavalry, Charging, Courage, Morale, Magic Weapons and Spells, Equipment, Seiges, Catapults, Fortresses, Heroes and Heroic actions, Climbing, Leadership, Rallying Troops, Monsters, High Ground, and Effects of Terrain on Movement.

If I was going to play a D&D game using the Chainmail mass combat rules, I might instead be tempted to adopt the LOTRSBG rules, because they are clearly written, readily available, and i'm guessing you could get an old version of the LOTRSBG rules for free, or nearly free, since the rules have been updated several times since 2001.

Saturday, October 9, 2010

Player Skill: Battle of Wits Combat Systems

Man in Black: All right. Where is the poison? The battle of wits has begun. It ends when you decide and we both drink, and find out who is right... and who is dead.

Vizzini: But it's so simple. All I have to do is divine from what I know of you: are you the sort of man who would put the poison into his own goblet or his enemy's? Now, a clever man would put the poison into his own goblet, because he would know that only a great fool would reach for what he was given. I am not a great fool, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you. But you must have known I was not a great fool, you would have counted on it, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me.

Man in Black: You've made your decision then?

Vizzini: Not remotely. Because iocaine comes from Australia, as everyone knows, and Australia is entirely peopled with criminals, and criminals are used to having people not trust them, as you are not trusted by me, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you.

Man in Black: Truly, you have a dizzying intellect.

Vizzini: Wait 'til I get going! Now, where was I?

Man in Black: Australia.

Vizzini: Yes, Australia. And you must have suspected I would have known the powder's origin, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me.

Man in Black: You're just stalling now.

Vizzini: You'd like to think that, wouldn't you! You've beaten my giant, which means you're exceptionally strong, so you could've put the poison in your own goblet, trusting on your strength to save you, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you. But, you've also bested my Spaniard, which means you must have studied, and in studying you must have learned that man is mortal, so you would have put the poison as far from yourself as possible, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me.

Man in Black: You're trying to trick me into giving away something. It won't work.

Vizzini: IT HAS WORKED! YOU'VE GIVEN EVERYTHING AWAY! I KNOW WHERE THE POISON IS!


How I would love to have a Dungeons and Dragons combat system that emulated the battle of wits scene in The Princess Bride.

One of the touted features of original D&D is its' encouragement of player skill. But many people find the old-school combat system lacking in that area. The main criticism of old-school combat is that deteriorates into an endless exchange of blows. While the criticism is somewhat misplaced, (after all, players should be using their player skills to either avoid combat or ensure that the battlefield is of their choosing) once combat is joined, players are at the mercy of the dice, and the vagaries of the DM, who may be permissive or not when it comes to the players' improvised combat tactics.

Some 'modern gamers' point to the 4E combat system as a solution, as it provides myriad tactical combat choices, providing some measure of player control in finding synergistic combinations of combat abilities to defeat the monsters arrayed against them. But the 4E solution feels completely artificial to me: the combat abilities rarely reflect real combat tactics, and so their selection and employment, in my mind, are examples of system mastery, not player skill. After all, if you look at the example of the battle of wits between Vezzini and the Man In Black, Vezzini is using real-life knowledge (basic psychology, geography, recent events) to try to deduce the mind of his opponent.

One of the great strengths of Avalon Hill's Magic Realm combat system is its' focus on player skill. The system itself is rather straight-forward, and uses the following 'real-life' combat principles:
  • Weapon length: longer weapons hit before shorter weapons.
  • Weapon speed: faster weapons hit before slower weapons.
  • Character speed: faster characters act before slower characters.
  • Armor: armor absorbs blows, but can be damaged as a result.
  • Weapon harm: heavier weapons do more damage than light weapons.
  • Attack Direction: there are three attack directions that correspond to the three dimensions: smash down, swing to the side, and thrust ahead.
  • Manuever Direction: there are three manuever directions that correspond to the three attack directions: duck down, dodge to the side, and charge ahead.
  • Fatigue: characters are able to perform certain exceptional actions, but doing so causes fatigue, which constrains future activities.
Using the above principles, Magic Realm employs a deterministic (diceless) combat system. Therefore, the results of a combat round are not subject to chance: each player's skill (in making the best selections of weapons, armor, attacks and manuevers, based upon what they know about the capabilities and strategies of their opponents) is the principal factor in determining his or her success or failure.

For example, in Magic Realm, the Dwarf is very slow. His only fast movement, that does not cause him to become fatigued, is his ability to duck down (which makes intuitive sense, since he is short). Another player, knowing this about the Dwarf, would select a smash down attack against the Dwarf, knowing that the Dwarf is most likely to use the duck manuever. Of course, in true Vezzini fashion, the Dwarf knows that other players are aware of his reliance on ducking, and so may employ one of his other manuevers, thus avoiding the smash down attack of his opponent (even if it meant accumulating some fatigue as a result).

I would be interested to learn if others have devised a way to insert player skill into their old-school combat systems, so as to transform them into a battle of wits between the players and the DM.

Player Skill: Battle of Wits Combat Systems

Man in Black: All right. Where is the poison? The battle of wits has begun. It ends when you decide and we both drink, and find out who is right... and who is dead.

Vizzini: But it's so simple. All I have to do is divine from what I know of you: are you the sort of man who would put the poison into his own goblet or his enemy's? Now, a clever man would put the poison into his own goblet, because he would know that only a great fool would reach for what he was given. I am not a great fool, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you. But you must have known I was not a great fool, you would have counted on it, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me.

Man in Black: You've made your decision then?

Vizzini: Not remotely. Because iocaine comes from Australia, as everyone knows, and Australia is entirely peopled with criminals, and criminals are used to having people not trust them, as you are not trusted by me, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you.

Man in Black: Truly, you have a dizzying intellect.

Vizzini: Wait 'til I get going! Now, where was I?

Man in Black: Australia.

Vizzini: Yes, Australia. And you must have suspected I would have known the powder's origin, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me.

Man in Black: You're just stalling now.

Vizzini: You'd like to think that, wouldn't you! You've beaten my giant, which means you're exceptionally strong, so you could've put the poison in your own goblet, trusting on your strength to save you, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you. But, you've also bested my Spaniard, which means you must have studied, and in studying you must have learned that man is mortal, so you would have put the poison as far from yourself as possible, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me.

Man in Black: You're trying to trick me into giving away something. It won't work.

Vizzini: IT HAS WORKED! YOU'VE GIVEN EVERYTHING AWAY! I KNOW WHERE THE POISON IS!


How I would love to have a Dungeons and Dragons combat system that emulated the battle of wits scene in The Princess Bride.

One of the touted features of original D&D is its' encouragement of player skill. But many people find the old-school combat system lacking in that area. The main criticism of old-school combat is that deteriorates into an endless exchange of blows. While the criticism is somewhat misplaced, (after all, players should be using their player skills to either avoid combat or ensure that the battlefield is of their choosing) once combat is joined, players are at the mercy of the dice, and the vagaries of the DM, who may be permissive or not when it comes to the players' improvised combat tactics.

Some 'modern gamers' point to the 4E combat system as a solution, as it provides myriad tactical combat choices, providing some measure of player control in finding synergistic combinations of combat abilities to defeat the monsters arrayed against them. But the 4E solution feels completely artificial to me: the combat abilities rarely reflect real combat tactics, and so their selection and employment, in my mind, are examples of system mastery, not player skill. After all, if you look at the example of the battle of wits between Vezzini and the Man In Black, Vezzini is using real-life knowledge (basic psychology, geography, recent events) to try to deduce the mind of his opponent.

One of the great strengths of Avalon Hill's Magic Realm combat system is its' focus on player skill. The system itself is rather straight-forward, and uses the following 'real-life' combat principles:
  • Weapon length: longer weapons hit before shorter weapons.
  • Weapon speed: faster weapons hit before slower weapons.
  • Character speed: faster characters act before slower characters.
  • Armor: armor absorbs blows, but can be damaged as a result.
  • Weapon harm: heavier weapons do more damage than light weapons.
  • Attack Direction: there are three attack directions that correspond to the three dimensions: smash down, swing to the side, and thrust ahead.
  • Manuever Direction: there are three manuever directions that correspond to the three attack directions: duck down, dodge to the side, and charge ahead.
  • Fatigue: characters are able to perform certain exceptional actions, but doing so causes fatigue, which constrains future activities.
Using the above principles, Magic Realm employs a deterministic (diceless) combat system. Therefore, the results of a combat round are not subject to chance: each player's skill (in making the best selections of weapons, armor, attacks and manuevers, based upon what they know about the capabilities and strategies of their opponents) is the principal factor in determining his or her success or failure.

For example, in Magic Realm, the Dwarf is very slow. His only fast movement, that does not cause him to become fatigued, is his ability to duck down (which makes intuitive sense, since he is short). Another player, knowing this about the Dwarf, would select a smash down attack against the Dwarf, knowing that the Dwarf is most likely to use the duck manuever. Of course, in true Vezzini fashion, the Dwarf knows that other players are aware of his reliance on ducking, and so may employ one of his other manuevers, thus avoiding the smash down attack of his opponent (even if it meant accumulating some fatigue as a result).

I would be interested to learn if others have devised a way to insert player skill into their old-school combat systems, so as to transform them into a battle of wits between the players and the DM.

Monday, March 8, 2010

Replacing Hit Points With Wounds


I created this table several months ago, for some reason. Perhaps I was suffering from a particularly nasty flu at the time. Delirium can precipitate odd behaviours, such as creating the above table.

This table was supposed to convert hit points to wounds. The idea was that instead of rolling for hit points, and marking damage from attacks against those hit points, each player would have a certain number of wound points. One wound point would equal one successful attack.

Therefore, there would be no rolling for how many hit points of damage a character could take: instead, if a monster successfully attacked a character, she will take one wound. The number of wounds a character could take is dependent on the character's constitution and level. For example, a 1st level Magic-User with a 3 constitution will start with 1 wound. A 1st Level Fighter with an 18 constitution will start with 3 wounds. As the characters go up in level, their maximum wounds will increase.

I'm sure there is a good use for this table. Off-hand, i'm not quite sure what that is.

Perhaps I was reading Chainmail at the time. In Chainmail, Heroes can take no more than 3 wounds simultaneously without dying, while Superheroes can take no more than 7. I may have been "inspired" by that reference to Heroes and Superheroes, in creating this fever-induced table.

Do you think the beginnings of another fantasy heart-breaker are in there somewhere?

Replacing Hit Points With Wounds


I created this table several months ago, for some reason. Perhaps I was suffering from a particularly nasty flu at the time. Delirium can precipitate odd behaviours, such as creating the above table.

This table was supposed to convert hit points to wounds. The idea was that instead of rolling for hit points, and marking damage from attacks against those hit points, each player would have a certain number of wound points. One wound point would equal one successful attack.

Therefore, there would be no rolling for how many hit points of damage a character could take: instead, if a monster successfully attacked a character, she will take one wound. The number of wounds a character could take is dependent on the character's constitution and level. For example, a 1st level Magic-User with a 3 constitution will start with 1 wound. A 1st Level Fighter with an 18 constitution will start with 3 wounds. As the characters go up in level, their maximum wounds will increase.

I'm sure there is a good use for this table. Off-hand, i'm not quite sure what that is.

Perhaps I was reading Chainmail at the time. In Chainmail, Heroes can take no more than 3 wounds simultaneously without dying, while Superheroes can take no more than 7. I may have been "inspired" by that reference to Heroes and Superheroes, in creating this fever-induced table.

Do you think the beginnings of another fantasy heart-breaker are in there somewhere?