Tomb of Horrors

SPOILER ALERT

Tomb of Horrors is one of those modules that is spectacularly misunderstood by those who never played or ran it, and those who began playing Dungeons and Dragons after the advent of 2nd Edition AD&D.

That the Tomb of Horrors is misunderstood will come as little surprise. The infamy of Tomb of Horrors, along with that module's relative scarcity to the uninitiated (at least prior to the advent of usenets, eBay and other resale markets), means that this module has become surrounded with a mythology not supported by the facts.

Both oblivious and informed role-players regard Tomb of Horrors as a killer dungeon. Absolutely true. But it is a killer dungeon almost entirely bereft of monsters. Tomb of Horrors is a killer dungeon not because of fell beasts, but because players fail to attend to the clues provided via the boxed text and module illustrations.

In the module's introductory paragraphs, Gary Gygax has this to say about the Tomb of Horrors:

"This is a thinking person's module. If your group is a hack and slay gathering, they will be unhappy! It is this writer's belief that brainwork is good for all players, and they will certainly benefit from playing this module, for individual levels of skill will be improved by reasoning and experience. If you regularly pose problems to be solved by brains and not brawn, your players will find this module immediately to their liking."

The uninitiated often assume that only uber-powerful characters, loaded to the rafters with magic weapons, items, spells, and skills, can last for more than a few seconds in, and successfully navigate through, the Tomb of Horrors. The truth is that it is not magic and CHARACTER skill that is needed to complete this module: rather, it is PLAYER skill. You get no perception checks. No daily powers. No pushes, pulls, marks and combat synergies. Just good old-fashioned player cleverness and problem-solving.

You can potentially complete the Tomb of Horrors without once engaging in combat, if you are careful and observant. Even the ultimate encounter with the Demi-Lich, Acererak, can be completed without a single spell thrown or weapon unslung:

"All that remains of Acererak are the dust of his bones and his skull resting in the far recesses of the [treasure] vault. If the treasure of the crypt is touched, the dust swirls into the air and forms a man-like shape. If the shape is ignored, it will dissipate in three rounds, for it can only advance and threaten, not harm....[however] if any character is so foolish as to touch the skull of the demi-lich, a terrible thing occurs..."

There is no need to kill the end boss guy in the Tomb of Horrors. In fact, if you choose to engage the skull of Acererak, you are more likely that not to be on the grinning-skull end of a Total Party Kill.

To defend the artificial nature of modern D&D mechanics and adventures, some have argued that the Tomb of Horrors is equally artificial, as the Tomb exists merely to be looted, just as modern adventures exist merely to award accolades and experience for monsters killed, quests completed, and synergies optimized. To argue thusly is to completely misunderstand what original and early versions of Dungeons and Dragons is about. Original Dungeons and Dragons was designed to allow players to emulate the sword & sorcery fiction genre, without a script. There is no predetermined plot in the Tomb of Horrors; no story; no lofty goals. Only those created at the game table by free agents (players and DM alike), rather than ones foisted upon the participants by the adventure's author.

As for the metagame argument that Tomb of Horrors exists for the sole purpose of being looted, that is also true. In early versions of Dungeons and Dragons, experience is earned primarily through the recovery of treasure. Just like the characters in sword & sorcery literature, those characters are no heroes: they are mercenaries and grave-robbers. Their motivation for entering the Tomb of Horrors is wholly transparent. They are looking for loot, and have heard that it can be found in Acererak's Tomb.

Tomb of Horrors

SPOILER ALERT

Tomb of Horrors is one of those modules that is spectacularly misunderstood by those who never played or ran it, and those who began playing Dungeons and Dragons after the advent of 2nd Edition AD&D.

That the Tomb of Horrors is misunderstood will come as little surprise. The infamy of Tomb of Horrors, along with that module's relative scarcity to the uninitiated (at least prior to the advent of usenets, eBay and other resale markets), means that this module has become surrounded with a mythology not supported by the facts.

Both oblivious and informed role-players regard Tomb of Horrors as a killer dungeon. Absolutely true. But it is a killer dungeon almost entirely bereft of monsters. Tomb of Horrors is a killer dungeon not because of fell beasts, but because players fail to attend to the clues provided via the boxed text and module illustrations.

In the module's introductory paragraphs, Gary Gygax has this to say about the Tomb of Horrors:

"This is a thinking person's module. If your group is a hack and slay gathering, they will be unhappy! It is this writer's belief that brainwork is good for all players, and they will certainly benefit from playing this module, for individual levels of skill will be improved by reasoning and experience. If you regularly pose problems to be solved by brains and not brawn, your players will find this module immediately to their liking."

The uninitiated often assume that only uber-powerful characters, loaded to the rafters with magic weapons, items, spells, and skills, can last for more than a few seconds in, and successfully navigate through, the Tomb of Horrors. The truth is that it is not magic and CHARACTER skill that is needed to complete this module: rather, it is PLAYER skill. You get no perception checks. No daily powers. No pushes, pulls, marks and combat synergies. Just good old-fashioned player cleverness and problem-solving.

You can potentially complete the Tomb of Horrors without once engaging in combat, if you are careful and observant. Even the ultimate encounter with the Demi-Lich, Acererak, can be completed without a single spell thrown or weapon unslung:

"All that remains of Acererak are the dust of his bones and his skull resting in the far recesses of the [treasure] vault. If the treasure of the crypt is touched, the dust swirls into the air and forms a man-like shape. If the shape is ignored, it will dissipate in three rounds, for it can only advance and threaten, not harm....[however] if any character is so foolish as to touch the skull of the demi-lich, a terrible thing occurs..."

There is no need to kill the end boss guy in the Tomb of Horrors. In fact, if you choose to engage the skull of Acererak, you are more likely that not to be on the grinning-skull end of a Total Party Kill.

To defend the artificial nature of modern D&D mechanics and adventures, some have argued that the Tomb of Horrors is equally artificial, as the Tomb exists merely to be looted, just as modern adventures exist merely to award accolades and experience for monsters killed, quests completed, and synergies optimized. To argue thusly is to completely misunderstand what original and early versions of Dungeons and Dragons is about. Original Dungeons and Dragons was designed to allow players to emulate the sword & sorcery fiction genre, without a script. There is no predetermined plot in the Tomb of Horrors; no story; no lofty goals. Only those created at the game table by free agents (players and DM alike), rather than ones foisted upon the participants by the adventure's author.

As for the metagame argument that Tomb of Horrors exists for the sole purpose of being looted, that is also true. In early versions of Dungeons and Dragons, experience is earned primarily through the recovery of treasure. Just like the characters in sword & sorcery literature, those characters are no heroes: they are mercenaries and grave-robbers. Their motivation for entering the Tomb of Horrors is wholly transparent. They are looking for loot, and have heard that it can be found in Acererak's Tomb.

Eye Contact Is Important

This is the "other" reason why eye contact is important: the players in your Dungeons and Dragons game are relying on you to deliver the critical parts of the adventure environment. The visual (non-verbal) feedback you gather from the players is crucial in ensuring you are communicating your adventure environment clearly.

If you are looking at something other than their eyes (i'm referring here to the boxed text, folks) you're probably missing some important information.

Boxed text has always been a bugaboo of mine: I don't like when it is read to me. First, I can read it faster that you can say it, so just hand me the text and i'll read the damn thing myself. Second, the delivery is often mediocre, so I tend to tune out while it's being read. Third, boxed text sometimes delivers information that is superfluous to the encounter, so you just wasted my time and yours. Fourth, the reading of prepared text seems artificial and therefore interferes with player immersion.

I disagree with those who think that information about the environment must be pried from the DM. The DM acts as your eyes, ears, and rest of your senses. Therefore, when the players first enter an important area, any information that is easily noted (particularly if it is relevant to the area or encounter) should be immediately and clearly revealed. Again, eye contact is important here: the players will give you non-verbal feedback as to which parts of your delivery were processed and which parts were not. I'm never shy to repeat something, if I don't think the players processed that information, the first time around.

It is trite to say that people only hear 20% of what they are told. This axiom applies when a great deal of (or very complicated) information is supplied. That is, the more information you communicate, in a continuous stream, the more difficult it is for the receiver to keep all of that information in the forefront of their mind, and sort out the extraneous from the important. That's another reason why I dislike boxed text. The players sit there, passively, while the DM reads, and reads, and reads, and reads. Without eye contact, you can't tell when the players are beginning to tune you out.

When drawing dungeons, outdoor environments and other adventure locations, my preference is to include little bits of one or two-word reference text, and small icons representing certain features, on the map. This allows me to quickly confirm critical details, so as to spend as little time as possible looking down at my papers, and as much time as possible looking at the players. That way, I can easily assess whether I have successfully communicated the environment, and anticipate what additional information is needed to help the players navigate the adventure.

Eye Contact Is Important

This is the "other" reason why eye contact is important: the players in your Dungeons and Dragons game are relying on you to deliver the critical parts of the adventure environment. The visual (non-verbal) feedback you gather from the players is crucial in ensuring you are communicating your adventure environment clearly.

If you are looking at something other than their eyes (i'm referring here to the boxed text, folks) you're probably missing some important information.

Boxed text has always been a bugaboo of mine: I don't like when it is read to me. First, I can read it faster that you can say it, so just hand me the text and i'll read the damn thing myself. Second, the delivery is often mediocre, so I tend to tune out while it's being read. Third, boxed text sometimes delivers information that is superfluous to the encounter, so you just wasted my time and yours. Fourth, the reading of prepared text seems artificial and therefore interferes with player immersion.

I disagree with those who think that information about the environment must be pried from the DM. The DM acts as your eyes, ears, and rest of your senses. Therefore, when the players first enter an important area, any information that is easily noted (particularly if it is relevant to the area or encounter) should be immediately and clearly revealed. Again, eye contact is important here: the players will give you non-verbal feedback as to which parts of your delivery were processed and which parts were not. I'm never shy to repeat something, if I don't think the players processed that information, the first time around.

It is trite to say that people only hear 20% of what they are told. This axiom applies when a great deal of (or very complicated) information is supplied. That is, the more information you communicate, in a continuous stream, the more difficult it is for the receiver to keep all of that information in the forefront of their mind, and sort out the extraneous from the important. That's another reason why I dislike boxed text. The players sit there, passively, while the DM reads, and reads, and reads, and reads. Without eye contact, you can't tell when the players are beginning to tune you out.

When drawing dungeons, outdoor environments and other adventure locations, my preference is to include little bits of one or two-word reference text, and small icons representing certain features, on the map. This allows me to quickly confirm critical details, so as to spend as little time as possible looking down at my papers, and as much time as possible looking at the players. That way, I can easily assess whether I have successfully communicated the environment, and anticipate what additional information is needed to help the players navigate the adventure.

Diablo: Claustrophobia And Fear

I was on hiatus from Dungeons and Dragons during the 1990's, so I was only vaguely aware of the TSR death-spiral, ascent of Magic: the Gathering, and eventual sale of TSR to Wizards of the Coast.

Most of my game-time was filled with computer games, my favorite being the original Diablo, released sometime around 1997.

This game scared the crap out of me. I seem to recall that the backstory was revealed intermittently throughout the game, and so for me it was a game of discovery, albeit a rather bloody, monster-laden one. I loved that there were dark shadows around the edges of the screen, and that the music instilled a sense of dread, horror and foreboding. The game-play was very claustrophobia-inducing.

I never got into Diablo II. Some of the mystery of the original Diablo was lost. It may have been the different music, or the fact that you knew what to expect, having played the original Diablo, but Diablo II didn't give me the pulse-pounding experience of fear that I got from the original game.

How does Diablo relate to old-school gaming? Like Diablo, part of the fun of role-playing games is not knowing what is going on, having incomplete information, not knowing if the monster is killable or not, and not knowing whether or not you will survive.

Diablo: Claustrophobia And Fear

I was on hiatus from Dungeons and Dragons during the 1990's, so I was only vaguely aware of the TSR death-spiral, ascent of Magic: the Gathering, and eventual sale of TSR to Wizards of the Coast.

Most of my game-time was filled with computer games, my favorite being the original Diablo, released sometime around 1997.

This game scared the crap out of me. I seem to recall that the backstory was revealed intermittently throughout the game, and so for me it was a game of discovery, albeit a rather bloody, monster-laden one. I loved that there were dark shadows around the edges of the screen, and that the music instilled a sense of dread, horror and foreboding. The game-play was very claustrophobia-inducing.

I never got into Diablo II. Some of the mystery of the original Diablo was lost. It may have been the different music, or the fact that you knew what to expect, having played the original Diablo, but Diablo II didn't give me the pulse-pounding experience of fear that I got from the original game.

How does Diablo relate to old-school gaming? Like Diablo, part of the fun of role-playing games is not knowing what is going on, having incomplete information, not knowing if the monster is killable or not, and not knowing whether or not you will survive.

Red Box Calgary - Inspirational Art

Pat, another Calgarian, and the blogger behind Ode To Black Dougal, also has a little site called Red Box Calgary. The purpose of that site is to promote B/X Dungeons & Dragons games in Calgary, an objective I heartily endorse. He has proposed that we start up a new B/X campaign this Fall.

One suggested setting for that upcoming B/X campaign are the dank and horror-filled catacombs, crypts and tunnels beneath an ancient, sprawling and corrupt city. This setting possesses a certain appeal to me, as I am currently reading several of Jack Vance's The Dying Earth novels, and that setting reminds me of Kaiin, a crumbling city, whose abandoned outskirts and underground tunnels hold mysteries and danger. The idea behind the campaign is that the DM duties will rotate amongst the participants. If the other participants were up for it, that would allow each of them to develop their own portions of a shared world, and link them all together in a more-or-less coherent framework.

Another option is to create a Caves Of Chaos styled campaign, where each DM takes one of the cave entrances in a box canyon or valley, and develops it, allowing for later linkages between the complexes. The above art is inspiration for the later suggestion. The art is by Michael Komark, and is from the D&D 3.5 Players Handbook II.

Red Box Calgary - Inspirational Art

Pat, another Calgarian, and the blogger behind Ode To Black Dougal, also has a little site called Red Box Calgary. The purpose of that site is to promote B/X Dungeons & Dragons games in Calgary, an objective I heartily endorse. He has proposed that we start up a new B/X campaign this Fall.

One suggested setting for that upcoming B/X campaign are the dank and horror-filled catacombs, crypts and tunnels beneath an ancient, sprawling and corrupt city. This setting possesses a certain appeal to me, as I am currently reading several of Jack Vance's The Dying Earth novels, and that setting reminds me of Kaiin, a crumbling city, whose abandoned outskirts and underground tunnels hold mysteries and danger. The idea behind the campaign is that the DM duties will rotate amongst the participants. If the other participants were up for it, that would allow each of them to develop their own portions of a shared world, and link them all together in a more-or-less coherent framework.

Another option is to create a Caves Of Chaos styled campaign, where each DM takes one of the cave entrances in a box canyon or valley, and develops it, allowing for later linkages between the complexes. The above art is inspiration for the later suggestion. The art is by Michael Komark, and is from the D&D 3.5 Players Handbook II.

LotFP Weird Fantasy RPG: Rules Review

In my estimation, Lamentations of the Flame Princess Weird Fantasy Role-Playing is yet more proof that there is still life in the original Dungeons & Dragons ruleset. Within Weird RPG's 48 page rulebook, James Raggi has married the OD&D ruleset with weird tropes and his own particular brand of lunacy, to create a game that feels like OD&D, yet is also vaguely unsettling and unfamiliar.

Right off the bat, Weird RPG re-arranges our familiar six prime abilities and places them in alpha order (Charisma, Constitution, Dexterity, Intelligence, Strength and Wisdom), making us re-think our assumptions about the relative importance of each ability. Abilities are generated with six 3d6 throws, in ability-order, and Weird RPG employs the traditional B/X ability modifiers, ranging from -3 to +3. Weird RPG considers your character unsuitable for play if the sum of your ability modifiers is less than 0.

Another somewhat unconventional choice: no experience-bonuses for high prime requisites. In fact, no prime requisites at all. While you have the standard four classes (Fighter, Magic User, Cleric and Thief/Specialist) and demi-humans (Dwarf, Elf and Halfling), none appear to need any minimum ability score to be playable. So a Fighter or Dwarf with 8 Strength is possible.

The Fighter (and I presume Dwarf and Elf, though it is not explicitly stated) are the only characters who can improve in combat ability. This is a marked departure from OD&D where all classes improve in combat, albeit at different rates, but one that I do not strongly disagree with, since Fighters in Weird RPG no longer possess the ability to inflict multiple attacks on multiple low-level monsters. This rule change certainly encourages the Clerics and Magic Users to focus on their strength, spell-casting.

The re-imagined Thief, named the Specialist in Weird RPG, uses a novel mechanic to resolve the traditional thief skills. A d6 system has been instituted, with each specialist skill converted to a certain chance in 6 of succeeding at a task, whether it be picking locks, finding traps or climbing walls. As the character advances in level, the players spread an additional 2 pips between all of the specialist skills, gradually increasing them over time.

Weird RPG uses a three alignment system (Lawful, Neutral and Chaotic) but assumes that most characters (other than Magic Users and Elves who both tend towards Chaos) will fall in the Neutral camp.

The Starting Equipment section occasionally slips into Gygaxian excess. For those who want to get on with playing, the Weapons section is mercifully short: most weapons are smartly grouped into four classes, of minor, small, medium and great weapons, with each weapon within the class priced the same and inflicting the same damage. No more min-maxing based on cost and the best damage within a given class! And nine specific weapons possess additional characteristics, with each profiled in its own paragraph. Sadly, the much-maligned d12 is once again left out in the cold, as weapons do anywhere from a d3 to d10 damage.

On the other end of the Gygaxian-excess scale, there are nearly 70 miscellaneous equipment items, 17 unique ship types, 14 food items, and four sizes of tents. Since I am a fan of Gygaxian excess, I felt like Scrooge McDuck rolling around in his vault of treasure when I looked at those item lists. The relative pricing of items is always a tricky business, and depending on how you approach your game economics, you may want to fiddle with Raggi's prices. In Weird RPG, livestock is priced at 50 gp a head, while a riding horse is 15 times that, at 750 gp. A warhorse comes in at 7,500 gp.

Weird RPG has nine pages of adventuring rules, such as opening doors, foraging and hunting, the effects of disease and falling, light and vision, the passage of time, and so on. Some interesting insights and approaches can be found in these pages. Of particular interest to me was Raggi's approach to encumbrance. Rather than tracking weight, you simply track number of items, with each 5 items moving you up to the next level of encumbrance. While i'm not sure that I am completely satisfied with this approach, it is a novel and simple way to handle the issue.

Considering that Weird RPG includes 17 unique ship types, it is only fitting that it should also have its own set of Maritime adventure rules. Finding a way to boilerplate subsystems like maritime adventures and combat to a role-playing game has always been a challenge for RPG designers. Weird RPG provides its own travel, water-bourne chases, combat, damage and boarding rules. I'd be tempted, instead, to find a board or hex-and-chit game and simulate ship-to-ship combats and chases that way, but the maritime rules provided in Wierd RPG will certainly fit the bill.

What better way to pay homage to OD&D, than to include a comprehensive and detailed section on retainers? You will find four pages of rules and information on hiring and using retainers. This is one of my favorite sections of the book, if only because it revels in more Gygaxian excess, with 24 different types of retainers, along with rules for determining their upkeep, maintenance and loyalty.

Weird RPG also includes rules for purchasing and maintaining property and investments. The mechanics are relatively straight-forward, because, let's face it, its more interesting to go adventuring than paying attention to how well your estate is doing.

Finally, we reach the section on Combat. Weird RPG has a very rules-light combat system, but gives you several interesting options, such as pressing (a vigorous attack that costs you AC to employ), holding (waiting to see what the other side does before intervening) and parrying (where you gain an AC bonus but lose any chance of hitting your opponent). I presume your Strength modifier can be used for both a bonus to your chance to hit and added to the damage you inflict on your opponent, but I had difficulty finding the reference to same.

The last page of the Weird RPG rulesbook provides you with instructions on how to complete your character sheet. The instructions are useful, even to old-hands like me, and I marvel at how effectively the character sheet was laid out.

Overall, I am very impressed with the Weird RPG ruleset. I did not find any rules that seemed particularly jarring or out of place: they all seemed to fit together rather well. And the art is in keeping with the weird theme of the game.

LotFP Weird Fantasy RPG: Rules Review

In my estimation, Lamentations of the Flame Princess Weird Fantasy Role-Playing is yet more proof that there is still life in the original Dungeons & Dragons ruleset. Within Weird RPG's 48 page rulebook, James Raggi has married the OD&D ruleset with weird tropes and his own particular brand of lunacy, to create a game that feels like OD&D, yet is also vaguely unsettling and unfamiliar.

Right off the bat, Weird RPG re-arranges our familiar six prime abilities and places them in alpha order (Charisma, Constitution, Dexterity, Intelligence, Strength and Wisdom), making us re-think our assumptions about the relative importance of each ability. Abilities are generated with six 3d6 throws, in ability-order, and Weird RPG employs the traditional B/X ability modifiers, ranging from -3 to +3. Weird RPG considers your character unsuitable for play if the sum of your ability modifiers is less than 0.

Another somewhat unconventional choice: no experience-bonuses for high prime requisites. In fact, no prime requisites at all. While you have the standard four classes (Fighter, Magic User, Cleric and Thief/Specialist) and demi-humans (Dwarf, Elf and Halfling), none appear to need any minimum ability score to be playable. So a Fighter or Dwarf with 8 Strength is possible.

The Fighter (and I presume Dwarf and Elf, though it is not explicitly stated) are the only characters who can improve in combat ability. This is a marked departure from OD&D where all classes improve in combat, albeit at different rates, but one that I do not strongly disagree with, since Fighters in Weird RPG no longer possess the ability to inflict multiple attacks on multiple low-level monsters. This rule change certainly encourages the Clerics and Magic Users to focus on their strength, spell-casting.

The re-imagined Thief, named the Specialist in Weird RPG, uses a novel mechanic to resolve the traditional thief skills. A d6 system has been instituted, with each specialist skill converted to a certain chance in 6 of succeeding at a task, whether it be picking locks, finding traps or climbing walls. As the character advances in level, the players spread an additional 2 pips between all of the specialist skills, gradually increasing them over time.

Weird RPG uses a three alignment system (Lawful, Neutral and Chaotic) but assumes that most characters (other than Magic Users and Elves who both tend towards Chaos) will fall in the Neutral camp.

The Starting Equipment section occasionally slips into Gygaxian excess. For those who want to get on with playing, the Weapons section is mercifully short: most weapons are smartly grouped into four classes, of minor, small, medium and great weapons, with each weapon within the class priced the same and inflicting the same damage. No more min-maxing based on cost and the best damage within a given class! And nine specific weapons possess additional characteristics, with each profiled in its own paragraph. Sadly, the much-maligned d12 is once again left out in the cold, as weapons do anywhere from a d3 to d10 damage.

On the other end of the Gygaxian-excess scale, there are nearly 70 miscellaneous equipment items, 17 unique ship types, 14 food items, and four sizes of tents. Since I am a fan of Gygaxian excess, I felt like Scrooge McDuck rolling around in his vault of treasure when I looked at those item lists. The relative pricing of items is always a tricky business, and depending on how you approach your game economics, you may want to fiddle with Raggi's prices. In Weird RPG, livestock is priced at 50 gp a head, while a riding horse is 15 times that, at 750 gp. A warhorse comes in at 7,500 gp.

Weird RPG has nine pages of adventuring rules, such as opening doors, foraging and hunting, the effects of disease and falling, light and vision, the passage of time, and so on. Some interesting insights and approaches can be found in these pages. Of particular interest to me was Raggi's approach to encumbrance. Rather than tracking weight, you simply track number of items, with each 5 items moving you up to the next level of encumbrance. While i'm not sure that I am completely satisfied with this approach, it is a novel and simple way to handle the issue.

Considering that Weird RPG includes 17 unique ship types, it is only fitting that it should also have its own set of Maritime adventure rules. Finding a way to boilerplate subsystems like maritime adventures and combat to a role-playing game has always been a challenge for RPG designers. Weird RPG provides its own travel, water-bourne chases, combat, damage and boarding rules. I'd be tempted, instead, to find a board or hex-and-chit game and simulate ship-to-ship combats and chases that way, but the maritime rules provided in Wierd RPG will certainly fit the bill.

What better way to pay homage to OD&D, than to include a comprehensive and detailed section on retainers? You will find four pages of rules and information on hiring and using retainers. This is one of my favorite sections of the book, if only because it revels in more Gygaxian excess, with 24 different types of retainers, along with rules for determining their upkeep, maintenance and loyalty.

Weird RPG also includes rules for purchasing and maintaining property and investments. The mechanics are relatively straight-forward, because, let's face it, its more interesting to go adventuring than paying attention to how well your estate is doing.

Finally, we reach the section on Combat. Weird RPG has a very rules-light combat system, but gives you several interesting options, such as pressing (a vigorous attack that costs you AC to employ), holding (waiting to see what the other side does before intervening) and parrying (where you gain an AC bonus but lose any chance of hitting your opponent). I presume your Strength modifier can be used for both a bonus to your chance to hit and added to the damage you inflict on your opponent, but I had difficulty finding the reference to same.

The last page of the Weird RPG rulesbook provides you with instructions on how to complete your character sheet. The instructions are useful, even to old-hands like me, and I marvel at how effectively the character sheet was laid out.

Overall, I am very impressed with the Weird RPG ruleset. I did not find any rules that seemed particularly jarring or out of place: they all seemed to fit together rather well. And the art is in keeping with the weird theme of the game.

Lamentations Of The Flame Princess: Weird Fantasy Role-Playing

I had a pleasant surprise waiting for me in the mailbox on Friday. James Raggi's Lamentations of the Flame Princess Weird Fantasy Role-Playing game! With my wife away on a business trip for the weekend, i'm only, now, getting a chance to open up the box and have a look at its contents.

Here's the box, which is about the same size as the original OD&D collectors edition boxed set, or the Swords & Wizardry boxed set. Actually, it appears to be about a 1/4" shorter and an 1/8" wider than those OD&D and S&W boxes, presumably to accommodate booklets printed on European A4 or A5 paper, rather than the North American letter or booklet-sized paper.

And here are the Referee and Rules booklets. All of the basic rules you need to play Weird RPG are in the Rules booklet, while the Referee booklet contains advice on running a campaign. For the next printing, James may want to white-line the text at the bottom of front-covers, or print the text in white, to make it easier to read. The box itself is a clamshell style with corner tabs to keep the lid secure, rather than separate box and lid.

The compete contents of the Weird RPG boxed set is pictured above (not pictured is a small pencil and set of mini-dice that also come with this boxed set). The box is crammed full of booklets and materials. There are four booklets (Rules, Referee, Magic and Tutorial) an introductory adventure, sample campaign world, a "recommended reading" booklet, character record sheets, double-sided graph and hex paper, open game licence and adverts for Dragonsfoot and Expeditious Retreat Press. The best recent analogy I can use to describe this boxed set is that it is a weird version of the Swords & Wizardry boxed set, on steroids. At 60 Euros, I paid about twice for the Weird RPG boxed set as I did for the S&W Whitebox set, but i'm getting at least twice the value. I love my S&W boxed sets (I bought two sets, plus several extra Character booklets), but, to give you an example of the additional value, the Character booklet for S&W is 24 pages; the Rules booklet for Weird RFP is twice that, at 48 pages.

Similar to the S&W boxed set, Weird RPG has a separate Magic booklet. I like this publishing choice, as it permits the Referee to decide whether or not the Magic booklet will be available to the players. My choice would be to keep this booklet out of the hands of the players, and thus maintain some mystery regarding how magic operates. The Magic booklet contains all of the standard clerical and magical spells you would find in an old-school RPG: missing is a list and description of illusionist spells, but perhaps James has decided to exclude the illusionist from the Weird RPG game. Again, the word "Magic" at the bottom of the booklet could have been white-lined, to improve legibility.

The addition of a Tutorial booklet is an interesting feature of Weird RPG. It assumes that the game will be marketed to and purchased by those unfamiliar with, or uninitiated into, the world of paper and pencil role playing games. I applaud James' optimism, and hope that Weird RPG does indeed attract new players to the traditional PnP RPG hobby. But this Tutorial booklet is also valuable to those of us who are already well-acquainted with RPGs, as it provides some interesting insight into how James sees the role-playing game process occurring.

The Weird RPG boxed set also included an introductory booklet-sized adventure, Tower of the Stargazer. Stargazer is a 16-page adventure booklet, with a separate, unstapled cover, with the maps printed on the cover's interior, similar to those early TSR modules. While Stargazer is the same number of pages as another excellent introductory adventure, found in the S&W boxed set, The Vile Worm of the Eldritch Oak, Stargazer has 26 detailed locations, while Vile Worm has less than a half-dozen. Stargazer looks like another excellent adventure, in the unique style of James Raggi: this can be a profitable adventure for the cautious and attentive, but not everything in the tower is meant to be touched or taken.

A complete wilderness adventure framework is also provided in the Weird RPG boxed set, and is appropriately entitled Weird New World. Like Stargazer, Weird World had been published as a separate 28-page booklet and unstapled cover, although the cover folds out to reveal a 4-page wilderness map featuring an arctic climate. Weird World is broadly designed in the sandbox style: James Raggi has designed and chronicled a few adventure locations to get you started, but the world is large enough that the Referee and players can participate in a long-running wilderness hex-crawl without ever leaving the map.

Another pleasant surprise: James' version of Appendix N, entitled "recommended reading." Among those appearing on James' list of recommended authors are Clive Barker, Robert E. Howard, Fritz Leiber, H.P. Lovecraft, Edgar Allan Poe, Clark Ashton Smith, J.R.R. Tolkien, Jack Vance, Jules Verne, and H.G. Wells. Each author receives a detailed biography by a guest biographer.

I can honestly say that this is the closest anyone has come to publishing my dream old-school boxed set. Once I have a chance to delve deeper into the Weird RPG booklets and supplementary material, I will provide some additional comments.

Lamentations Of The Flame Princess: Weird Fantasy Role-Playing

I had a pleasant surprise waiting for me in the mailbox on Friday. James Raggi's Lamentations of the Flame Princess Weird Fantasy Role-Playing game! With my wife away on a business trip for the weekend, i'm only, now, getting a chance to open up the box and have a look at its contents.

Here's the box, which is about the same size as the original OD&D collectors edition boxed set, or the Swords & Wizardry boxed set. Actually, it appears to be about a 1/4" shorter and an 1/8" wider than those OD&D and S&W boxes, presumably to accommodate booklets printed on European A4 or A5 paper, rather than the North American letter or booklet-sized paper.

And here are the Referee and Rules booklets. All of the basic rules you need to play Weird RPG are in the Rules booklet, while the Referee booklet contains advice on running a campaign. For the next printing, James may want to white-line the text at the bottom of front-covers, or print the text in white, to make it easier to read. The box itself is a clamshell style with corner tabs to keep the lid secure, rather than separate box and lid.

The compete contents of the Weird RPG boxed set is pictured above (not pictured is a small pencil and set of mini-dice that also come with this boxed set). The box is crammed full of booklets and materials. There are four booklets (Rules, Referee, Magic and Tutorial) an introductory adventure, sample campaign world, a "recommended reading" booklet, character record sheets, double-sided graph and hex paper, open game licence and adverts for Dragonsfoot and Expeditious Retreat Press. The best recent analogy I can use to describe this boxed set is that it is a weird version of the Swords & Wizardry boxed set, on steroids. At 60 Euros, I paid about twice for the Weird RPG boxed set as I did for the S&W Whitebox set, but i'm getting at least twice the value. I love my S&W boxed sets (I bought two sets, plus several extra Character booklets), but, to give you an example of the additional value, the Character booklet for S&W is 24 pages; the Rules booklet for Weird RFP is twice that, at 48 pages.

Similar to the S&W boxed set, Weird RPG has a separate Magic booklet. I like this publishing choice, as it permits the Referee to decide whether or not the Magic booklet will be available to the players. My choice would be to keep this booklet out of the hands of the players, and thus maintain some mystery regarding how magic operates. The Magic booklet contains all of the standard clerical and magical spells you would find in an old-school RPG: missing is a list and description of illusionist spells, but perhaps James has decided to exclude the illusionist from the Weird RPG game. Again, the word "Magic" at the bottom of the booklet could have been white-lined, to improve legibility.

The addition of a Tutorial booklet is an interesting feature of Weird RPG. It assumes that the game will be marketed to and purchased by those unfamiliar with, or uninitiated into, the world of paper and pencil role playing games. I applaud James' optimism, and hope that Weird RPG does indeed attract new players to the traditional PnP RPG hobby. But this Tutorial booklet is also valuable to those of us who are already well-acquainted with RPGs, as it provides some interesting insight into how James sees the role-playing game process occurring.

The Weird RPG boxed set also included an introductory booklet-sized adventure, Tower of the Stargazer. Stargazer is a 16-page adventure booklet, with a separate, unstapled cover, with the maps printed on the cover's interior, similar to those early TSR modules. While Stargazer is the same number of pages as another excellent introductory adventure, found in the S&W boxed set, The Vile Worm of the Eldritch Oak, Stargazer has 26 detailed locations, while Vile Worm has less than a half-dozen. Stargazer looks like another excellent adventure, in the unique style of James Raggi: this can be a profitable adventure for the cautious and attentive, but not everything in the tower is meant to be touched or taken.

A complete wilderness adventure framework is also provided in the Weird RPG boxed set, and is appropriately entitled Weird New World. Like Stargazer, Weird World had been published as a separate 28-page booklet and unstapled cover, although the cover folds out to reveal a 4-page wilderness map featuring an arctic climate. Weird World is broadly designed in the sandbox style: James Raggi has designed and chronicled a few adventure locations to get you started, but the world is large enough that the Referee and players can participate in a long-running wilderness hex-crawl without ever leaving the map.

Another pleasant surprise: James' version of Appendix N, entitled "recommended reading." Among those appearing on James' list of recommended authors are Clive Barker, Robert E. Howard, Fritz Leiber, H.P. Lovecraft, Edgar Allan Poe, Clark Ashton Smith, J.R.R. Tolkien, Jack Vance, Jules Verne, and H.G. Wells. Each author receives a detailed biography by a guest biographer.

I can honestly say that this is the closest anyone has come to publishing my dream old-school boxed set. Once I have a chance to delve deeper into the Weird RPG booklets and supplementary material, I will provide some additional comments.

Why OSR At All?

Someone asked the above question at theRPGSite.

I don't usually visit the the various gaming forums (as examples, the above, along with the Knights & Knaves Alehouse and Dragonsfoot) as i'm not really looking to debate the merits of various game systems: I started my blog to write about what interests me, and i'm thrilled (and consider it a bonus) when visitors share their comments. My visit to theRPGSite was prompted by a post on RPG Blog II, responding to criticisms of old-school gaming, old-school bloggers, and the explosion of old-school blog-sites in general. I have certain theories about the real motivation behind those criticisms, which I may end up sharing if it seems worthwhile.

In answering the above question, one of the commenters, Kyle Aaron, provided the following response, which I thought sufficiently succinct to warrant repeating here.

I dunno about being a member of any [Old School] movement, that's a bit pretentious.

All I know is, what I like and dislike. I like simple systems, short cheap books with black and white art, rules and setting descriptions, and useful example characters. And charts.

I like simple systems because most players are too lazy to learn complex systems, and it gets tedious when I as GM have to explain it to them during a game session. I like simple systems because when there aren't rules for everything you get to use your imagination, I hate it when you're in a game session and you say, "I do X," and the GM says, "ah, there's a rule for that... your skill... that's -3, and..." and half an hour later you roll and fail.

I like short cheap books with black and white art, I don't like big expensive chunky glossy magazine-style books.

I like rules and setting descriptions, I don't like flavour fic.

I like example characters the players could have in their first session, not example characters that can't be built within the rules and are just Mary Sues for one of the game writers.

I like charts which give us things to inspire character creation or setting events, so the dice can help our creativity.

And I like snacks. Snacks are important. Some call this Old School. I call it "what I like."

Why OSR At All?

Someone asked the above question at theRPGSite.

I don't usually visit the the various gaming forums (as examples, the above, along with the Knights & Knaves Alehouse and Dragonsfoot) as i'm not really looking to debate the merits of various game systems: I started my blog to write about what interests me, and i'm thrilled (and consider it a bonus) when visitors share their comments. My visit to theRPGSite was prompted by a post on RPG Blog II, responding to criticisms of old-school gaming, old-school bloggers, and the explosion of old-school blog-sites in general. I have certain theories about the real motivation behind those criticisms, which I may end up sharing if it seems worthwhile.

In answering the above question, one of the commenters, Kyle Aaron, provided the following response, which I thought sufficiently succinct to warrant repeating here.

I dunno about being a member of any [Old School] movement, that's a bit pretentious.

All I know is, what I like and dislike. I like simple systems, short cheap books with black and white art, rules and setting descriptions, and useful example characters. And charts.

I like simple systems because most players are too lazy to learn complex systems, and it gets tedious when I as GM have to explain it to them during a game session. I like simple systems because when there aren't rules for everything you get to use your imagination, I hate it when you're in a game session and you say, "I do X," and the GM says, "ah, there's a rule for that... your skill... that's -3, and..." and half an hour later you roll and fail.

I like short cheap books with black and white art, I don't like big expensive chunky glossy magazine-style books.

I like rules and setting descriptions, I don't like flavour fic.

I like example characters the players could have in their first session, not example characters that can't be built within the rules and are just Mary Sues for one of the game writers.

I like charts which give us things to inspire character creation or setting events, so the dice can help our creativity.

And I like snacks. Snacks are important. Some call this Old School. I call it "what I like."

Old-School Gaming: Player vs. Character Skill

In the past, there's been a great deal of speculation in the blogosphere about what makes a roleplaying game experience "old-school". For many, one of the differentiating features of an old-school game is the emphasis on player rather than character skill. In addition to my own cursory remarks on this subject, you can find a couple of other posts on this topic here and here.

I have been giving this matter more thought, as a result of my recent purchase of Dragon Age RPG. On the back cover of the Dragon Age RPG boxed set (for levels 1-5), they make the following, bold pronouncement:

"Welcome to Dragon Age, a roleplaying game of dark fantasy adventure for 2-6 players, age 14 and up ... This is old-school roleplaying, where the story is YOURS to create and the action is driven by YOUR imagination.”

Sometime over the next several days, I will try to share my thoughts on whether Dragon Age RPG delivers on its promise of old-school roleplaying. For now, I want to make a few comments about player vs. character skill.

Many will agree that reliance on Player Skill for problem-resolution is a defining feature of old-school play. By ‘Player Skill’ I mean that the players provide a description of the action they are taking, the method of problem-solving they are using, or they actually roleplay the encounter, and the referee bases the results on how convincing the player’s description was. Sometimes the referee will make an on-the-spot determination that the attempt succeeded, and other times, a probability of success will be estimated and the player will roll to see if they succeeded.

‘Character Skill’, on the other hand, almost always revolves around the rolling of dice, and comparing the result of that dice-roll to a target number related to a specific skill, which is often written on the character sheet.

It can be argued that, even in its earliest iterations, Dungeons and Dragons included Character Skills. For example, opening doors, finding secret doors and listening at doors were three Character Skills, all based on dice-rolls. But before someone grabs that bit of ephemera to demonstrate that D&D has always been a character-skill based system, it should be understood that those skills were universal: any character could attempt any of those actions. When I think of ‘Character Skill’ systems, they have the added feature of specialization: a character can only attempt an action if they have the related skill (some character-skill based RPGs allow you to attempt an unskilled action, but all of those systems still anticipate that a dice-roll will be made to determine your success).

One of the criticisms of old-school play, and particularly in its reliance on Player Skill, is that it disadvantages those who are not ‘quick on their feet’, are unconvincing speakers, or are shy, and that Player Skill is susceptible to referee fiat. Those criticisms are justified, to the extent that, in the past, there were some mediocre referees who were unable to perform their roles as independent arbiters. Among other benefits, Character Skill systems were seen as the panacea to bad DMing: those systems took power out of the hands of those bad DMs, and allowed the players to roll dice to see if they succeeded, rather than having to describe their actions or roleplay an encounter, and depend on the judgment of the referee to determine their success.

And thus was born the comparison between “roll-playing” and “role-playing”.

My preferences clearly lean towards Player Skill, but I understand why some are uncomfortable with that style of play: some have had bad experiences with arbitrary or capricious DMs; others enjoy designing characters as much as they enjoy playing the game; some find comfort and meaning in system-mastery that accompanies many character skill systems; still others prefer the additional certainty that character skill-based systems provide. I’m sure there are many other reasons to prefer character skill-based systems.

I prefer Player Skill systems, because they seem to provide the most opportunity for immersive role-playing. But that is scary for many people (including me) because it requires a measure of vulnerability that can be quite uncomfortable.

As much as I prefer Player Skill, though, one of the problems with Player Skill is its lack of applicability to one significant part of fantasy roleplaying games: combat.

To my knowledge, there has never been any thorough attempt to create a combat system based on Player Skill. I’m not a poker player, so i’m speaking through my hat here, but I imagine a good Player Skill combat system would be a bit like playing poker – knowledge of your opponent’s strengths and weaknesses, mannerisms and tell-tale clues would translate into your improved ability to defeat them in combat.

There is a measure of player skill currently involved in D&D combat. For example, knowing to use blunt weapons against skeletons, silver weapons against vampires and werewolves, or magical weapons against other creatures. But much of that seeming player skill is really system-mastery, not player deduction. I would love to use a combat system that employs Player Skill, in a meaningful way, to determine success in battle.

Old-School Gaming: Player vs. Character Skill

In the past, there's been a great deal of speculation in the blogosphere about what makes a roleplaying game experience "old-school". For many, one of the differentiating features of an old-school game is the emphasis on player rather than character skill. In addition to my own cursory remarks on this subject, you can find a couple of other posts on this topic here and here.

I have been giving this matter more thought, as a result of my recent purchase of Dragon Age RPG. On the back cover of the Dragon Age RPG boxed set (for levels 1-5), they make the following, bold pronouncement:

"Welcome to Dragon Age, a roleplaying game of dark fantasy adventure for 2-6 players, age 14 and up ... This is old-school roleplaying, where the story is YOURS to create and the action is driven by YOUR imagination.”

Sometime over the next several days, I will try to share my thoughts on whether Dragon Age RPG delivers on its promise of old-school roleplaying. For now, I want to make a few comments about player vs. character skill.

Many will agree that reliance on Player Skill for problem-resolution is a defining feature of old-school play. By ‘Player Skill’ I mean that the players provide a description of the action they are taking, the method of problem-solving they are using, or they actually roleplay the encounter, and the referee bases the results on how convincing the player’s description was. Sometimes the referee will make an on-the-spot determination that the attempt succeeded, and other times, a probability of success will be estimated and the player will roll to see if they succeeded.

‘Character Skill’, on the other hand, almost always revolves around the rolling of dice, and comparing the result of that dice-roll to a target number related to a specific skill, which is often written on the character sheet.

It can be argued that, even in its earliest iterations, Dungeons and Dragons included Character Skills. For example, opening doors, finding secret doors and listening at doors were three Character Skills, all based on dice-rolls. But before someone grabs that bit of ephemera to demonstrate that D&D has always been a character-skill based system, it should be understood that those skills were universal: any character could attempt any of those actions. When I think of ‘Character Skill’ systems, they have the added feature of specialization: a character can only attempt an action if they have the related skill (some character-skill based RPGs allow you to attempt an unskilled action, but all of those systems still anticipate that a dice-roll will be made to determine your success).

One of the criticisms of old-school play, and particularly in its reliance on Player Skill, is that it disadvantages those who are not ‘quick on their feet’, are unconvincing speakers, or are shy, and that Player Skill is susceptible to referee fiat. Those criticisms are justified, to the extent that, in the past, there were some mediocre referees who were unable to perform their roles as independent arbiters. Among other benefits, Character Skill systems were seen as the panacea to bad DMing: those systems took power out of the hands of those bad DMs, and allowed the players to roll dice to see if they succeeded, rather than having to describe their actions or roleplay an encounter, and depend on the judgment of the referee to determine their success.

And thus was born the comparison between “roll-playing” and “role-playing”.

My preferences clearly lean towards Player Skill, but I understand why some are uncomfortable with that style of play: some have had bad experiences with arbitrary or capricious DMs; others enjoy designing characters as much as they enjoy playing the game; some find comfort and meaning in system-mastery that accompanies many character skill systems; still others prefer the additional certainty that character skill-based systems provide. I’m sure there are many other reasons to prefer character skill-based systems.

I prefer Player Skill systems, because they seem to provide the most opportunity for immersive role-playing. But that is scary for many people (including me) because it requires a measure of vulnerability that can be quite uncomfortable.

As much as I prefer Player Skill, though, one of the problems with Player Skill is its lack of applicability to one significant part of fantasy roleplaying games: combat.

To my knowledge, there has never been any thorough attempt to create a combat system based on Player Skill. I’m not a poker player, so i’m speaking through my hat here, but I imagine a good Player Skill combat system would be a bit like playing poker – knowledge of your opponent’s strengths and weaknesses, mannerisms and tell-tale clues would translate into your improved ability to defeat them in combat.

There is a measure of player skill currently involved in D&D combat. For example, knowing to use blunt weapons against skeletons, silver weapons against vampires and werewolves, or magical weapons against other creatures. But much of that seeming player skill is really system-mastery, not player deduction. I would love to use a combat system that employs Player Skill, in a meaningful way, to determine success in battle.

Review: Spellcraft and Swordplay

A tip of the hat to Jason Vey, the author of Spellcraft and Swordplay (S&S). In that game, he both asks, and attempts to answer the question, "what if Dungeons and Dragons had developed from the Chainmail:rules for medieval miniatures rule-set?"

Few old-schoolers are brave (or foolhardy) enough to try their hand at parsing and restating Chainmail. There are good reasons to avoid that morass. Chainmail includes at least three confusing, competing and irreconcilable matrices for resolving battles: one for mass combat, another for man-to-man combat, and a third for fantastic combat. Chainmail includes contradictory and poorly-written rules. It's mass-combat morale system is needlessly complicated. It even fails to properly define the six major classes of mass-combatants.

I give kudos, then, to Mr. Vey, for attempting the near-impossible. He tries to rescue much of the essence of Chainmail's man-to-man combat system, by bolting it onto a customized D&D-esque role-playing game rule-set.

In addition, Mr. Vey published one iteration of his re-imagined game in a three-booklet format, with rules collected in separate Character, Combat and Creatures booklets. I don't know whether that three-booklet version is still available, but it is a format to my liking, as I prefer to keep the rules, for the moving parts, out of the hands of the players.

While rescuing those Chainmail rules, for employment in his rule-set, Mr. Vey has also chosen to stray somewhat from the original Dungeons and Dragons canon. That choice may have been made, simply to meet certain requirements of the OGL. Changes may also have been made to "improve" or address deficiencies of the original D&D rules. Had I been advising Mr. Vey, I might have suggested keeping a tight rein on any changes, other than for OGL reasons, and adding those as optional rules to the game.

The material in the S&S booklet on Characters approximates the rules found in other D&D rule-books. You have your standard 6 abilities. The four standard classes (F,M,T,C) are there. Hit points are generated by d6 dice-rolls, with pips added to, or subtracted from, your hit-points, based on the character's class. You also have the four standard races.

However, some of the S&S character rules differ, often in unusual ways. For example, Greyhawk's ‘exceptional strength for Fighters’ rule has been included, but exceptional strength is generated by adding a d6-1 roll to any strength of 18. A ‘weapon mastery for Fighters’ rule has also been added, as a standard rule. Magic user spells are acquired by rolling a d3 and adding that number of spells to your repertoire, at even-numbered levels. And the Clerical power to turn undead is limited to once per day, with the undead making morale checks, rather that the Cleric employing the Undead turning table, found in the original D&D rules.

On the other hand, spell-casting rules, from the original Chainmail game, have made their way into the S&S Character booklet. A prime example of this is the spell-success table: as in Chainmail, any time a magic-user casts a spell, she must roll to see if the spell goes into effect immediately, is delayed by one round, or fails utterly. An appropriate nod to Chainmail.

Another Chainmail (and original D&D) rule appearing in S&S: multiple attacks for player characters. Each character has a number of attacks, closely associated with her level. For example, in both S&S and original D&D, they treat a 2nd level Fighter as two regular combatants, for purposes of attacking, using the Chainmail mass-combat table, and both also provide a +1 bonus to her rolls.

Moving on to the S&S Combat booklet, it employs, whole-cloth, the Chainmail man-to-man combat tables. In doing so, Mr. Vey has chosen to ignore the other two (competing) Chainmail combat matrices – the mass-combat and fantastic combat tables. I am sympathetic to that choice, to the extent that the three tables are largely irreconcilable. For example, on the Chainmail mass-combat table, an armored footman has a 16% chance of wounding another armored footman. Now have those same two armored footman (wearing Platemail and wielding morningstars) face off, using the man-to-man combat tables. Suddenly their chances of wounding have increased to 42%.

Similarly, exclusive employment of the man-to-man combat tables allows S&S to avoid the Chainmail ‘fantastic combat’ tables, which preclude Fighters, below 3rd level, from wounding any fantastic creature. Employing the man-to-man combat table, instead, allows 1st and 2nd level players to wound such fantastic monsters as Ogres, Giant insects and Cockatrices. In dispensing with the fantastic combat table, S&S uses a negative modifier to attack rolls instead, to make some fantastic creatures more difficult to hit.

Though I understand the decision to employ only the man-to-man combat table, I think Mr. Vey missed an opportunity to try his hand at reconciling those three combat tables (as impossible as that might appear).

As for the other combat features of S&S, there are several house-rules and modern approaches that have made their way into this rule-set: (limited) exploding dice on critical hits; two dice (use the highest) for two-handed weapon damage; individual initiative. Nothing terribly objectionable here, and some of it is embraced in many house-ruled old-school D&D campaigns. But those could have been added as optional rules, thus maintaining the S&S rules as a Chainmail/OD&D amalgam while still providing optional rules for those who wished to try them out.

S&S also dispenses with the gp = xp rule. Another unusual choice, given the source material, though not too surprising, given that Mr. Vey opines: “the vast majority of fantasy gaming resolves around battles. Swords flashing. Spells blazing, killing things and taking their stuff. That’s what this type of play is geared towards.” Experience is instead doled out for killing monsters, overcoming challenges, and good role-play. Not insignificant achievements, but not entirely in keeping with the exploration and treasure-hunting goals of original D&D.

There are many other features of Chainmail that made their way into S&S. Their inclusion makes this an interesting rule-set to use, for those who would like to see how the game would have played, had Chainmail been a greater influence on the development of D&D. If that is something that interests you, check out Spellcraft and Swordplay.

Review: Spellcraft and Swordplay

A tip of the hat to Jason Vey, the author of Spellcraft and Swordplay (S&S). In that game, he both asks, and attempts to answer the question, "what if Dungeons and Dragons had developed from the Chainmail:rules for medieval miniatures rule-set?"

Few old-schoolers are brave (or foolhardy) enough to try their hand at parsing and restating Chainmail. There are good reasons to avoid that morass. Chainmail includes at least three confusing, competing and irreconcilable matrices for resolving battles: one for mass combat, another for man-to-man combat, and a third for fantastic combat. Chainmail includes contradictory and poorly-written rules. It's mass-combat morale system is needlessly complicated. It even fails to properly define the six major classes of mass-combatants.

I give kudos, then, to Mr. Vey, for attempting the near-impossible. He tries to rescue much of the essence of Chainmail's man-to-man combat system, by bolting it onto a customized D&D-esque role-playing game rule-set.

In addition, Mr. Vey published one iteration of his re-imagined game in a three-booklet format, with rules collected in separate Character, Combat and Creatures booklets. I don't know whether that three-booklet version is still available, but it is a format to my liking, as I prefer to keep the rules, for the moving parts, out of the hands of the players.

While rescuing those Chainmail rules, for employment in his rule-set, Mr. Vey has also chosen to stray somewhat from the original Dungeons and Dragons canon. That choice may have been made, simply to meet certain requirements of the OGL. Changes may also have been made to "improve" or address deficiencies of the original D&D rules. Had I been advising Mr. Vey, I might have suggested keeping a tight rein on any changes, other than for OGL reasons, and adding those as optional rules to the game.

The material in the S&S booklet on Characters approximates the rules found in other D&D rule-books. You have your standard 6 abilities. The four standard classes (F,M,T,C) are there. Hit points are generated by d6 dice-rolls, with pips added to, or subtracted from, your hit-points, based on the character's class. You also have the four standard races.

However, some of the S&S character rules differ, often in unusual ways. For example, Greyhawk's ‘exceptional strength for Fighters’ rule has been included, but exceptional strength is generated by adding a d6-1 roll to any strength of 18. A ‘weapon mastery for Fighters’ rule has also been added, as a standard rule. Magic user spells are acquired by rolling a d3 and adding that number of spells to your repertoire, at even-numbered levels. And the Clerical power to turn undead is limited to once per day, with the undead making morale checks, rather that the Cleric employing the Undead turning table, found in the original D&D rules.

On the other hand, spell-casting rules, from the original Chainmail game, have made their way into the S&S Character booklet. A prime example of this is the spell-success table: as in Chainmail, any time a magic-user casts a spell, she must roll to see if the spell goes into effect immediately, is delayed by one round, or fails utterly. An appropriate nod to Chainmail.

Another Chainmail (and original D&D) rule appearing in S&S: multiple attacks for player characters. Each character has a number of attacks, closely associated with her level. For example, in both S&S and original D&D, they treat a 2nd level Fighter as two regular combatants, for purposes of attacking, using the Chainmail mass-combat table, and both also provide a +1 bonus to her rolls.

Moving on to the S&S Combat booklet, it employs, whole-cloth, the Chainmail man-to-man combat tables. In doing so, Mr. Vey has chosen to ignore the other two (competing) Chainmail combat matrices – the mass-combat and fantastic combat tables. I am sympathetic to that choice, to the extent that the three tables are largely irreconcilable. For example, on the Chainmail mass-combat table, an armored footman has a 16% chance of wounding another armored footman. Now have those same two armored footman (wearing Platemail and wielding morningstars) face off, using the man-to-man combat tables. Suddenly their chances of wounding have increased to 42%.

Similarly, exclusive employment of the man-to-man combat tables allows S&S to avoid the Chainmail ‘fantastic combat’ tables, which preclude Fighters, below 3rd level, from wounding any fantastic creature. Employing the man-to-man combat table, instead, allows 1st and 2nd level players to wound such fantastic monsters as Ogres, Giant insects and Cockatrices. In dispensing with the fantastic combat table, S&S uses a negative modifier to attack rolls instead, to make some fantastic creatures more difficult to hit.

Though I understand the decision to employ only the man-to-man combat table, I think Mr. Vey missed an opportunity to try his hand at reconciling those three combat tables (as impossible as that might appear).

As for the other combat features of S&S, there are several house-rules and modern approaches that have made their way into this rule-set: (limited) exploding dice on critical hits; two dice (use the highest) for two-handed weapon damage; individual initiative. Nothing terribly objectionable here, and some of it is embraced in many house-ruled old-school D&D campaigns. But those could have been added as optional rules, thus maintaining the S&S rules as a Chainmail/OD&D amalgam while still providing optional rules for those who wished to try them out.

S&S also dispenses with the gp = xp rule. Another unusual choice, given the source material, though not too surprising, given that Mr. Vey opines: “the vast majority of fantasy gaming resolves around battles. Swords flashing. Spells blazing, killing things and taking their stuff. That’s what this type of play is geared towards.” Experience is instead doled out for killing monsters, overcoming challenges, and good role-play. Not insignificant achievements, but not entirely in keeping with the exploration and treasure-hunting goals of original D&D.

There are many other features of Chainmail that made their way into S&S. Their inclusion makes this an interesting rule-set to use, for those who would like to see how the game would have played, had Chainmail been a greater influence on the development of D&D. If that is something that interests you, check out Spellcraft and Swordplay.

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?