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Showing posts with label player skill. Show all posts
Showing posts with label player skill. Show all posts

Monday, April 4, 2011

The Endless Stair And Player Choice

Keep On The Borderlands is one of the better TSR modules. Not because it has well-developed NPCs (it doesn't). Nor because of its' exceptional artwork (serviceable, but not mind-blowing). Not even because of it has a sophisticated plot (at best, the DM may tease something out about the Temple of Chaos organizing the scattered humanoids into a raiding force).

What is great about Keep On The Borderlands is that it allows players to select the level of challenge they are willing to face.

Among the rumors provided in Keep On The Borderlands is that the deeper you go within the Caves of Chaos box canyon, the more dangerous the denizens. A cave mouth closer to the canyon entrance is less dangerous, while those at the end of the box canyon are likely filled with fearsome opponents, and fabulous treasures. The players can play-it-safe, and explore the nearer cave-mouths, or take a chance at the deeper ones. The DM can adjudicate the results of that player choice, free of any hint of bias, since it is the players themselves that pick the easier or harder road.

It is well-understood by all experienced D&D players, that the deeper within a dungeon you delve, the more dangerous the traps and monsters. Yet one of the design principles, regularly applied to dungeon creation, is that the stairs to the next-deeper level are difficult to discover. Call that what you like: I call it railroading.

Rather than hiding stairs to the deeper levels, i'm of a mind to have one staircase -- The Endless Stair -- that traverses the entire depth of the dungeon. Not a staircase that goes directly down mind you, but one that meanders, splits, crosses chasms, follows underground rivers, backtracks on itself, and reveals varying architectural styles at different points in its' descent.

As the stairs decend, there are dungeon levels hiving off in different directions, sometimes blocked by hastily-completed walls, or locked and barred doors, offering danger, mystery and treasure. There may be collapsed stair sections along the way, requiring magical or mechanic means of bypass, and portcullises on the staircase preventing immediate entry to lower levels for those lacking creativity, but there will be no question where those stairs are.

The only question ... for the players ... is whether they are feeling lucky today, and want to take a chance exploring lower dungeon levels in exchange for potentially higher rewards.

The Endless Stair And Player Choice

Keep On The Borderlands is one of the better TSR modules. Not because it has well-developed NPCs (it doesn't). Nor because of its' exceptional artwork (serviceable, but not mind-blowing). Not even because of it has a sophisticated plot (at best, the DM may tease something out about the Temple of Chaos organizing the scattered humanoids into a raiding force).

What is great about Keep On The Borderlands is that it allows players to select the level of challenge they are willing to face.

Among the rumors provided in Keep On The Borderlands is that the deeper you go within the Caves of Chaos box canyon, the more dangerous the denizens. A cave mouth closer to the canyon entrance is less dangerous, while those at the end of the box canyon are likely filled with fearsome opponents, and fabulous treasures. The players can play-it-safe, and explore the nearer cave-mouths, or take a chance at the deeper ones. The DM can adjudicate the results of that player choice, free of any hint of bias, since it is the players themselves that pick the easier or harder road.

It is well-understood by all experienced D&D players, that the deeper within a dungeon you delve, the more dangerous the traps and monsters. Yet one of the design principles, regularly applied to dungeon creation, is that the stairs to the next-deeper level are difficult to discover. Call that what you like: I call it railroading.

Rather than hiding stairs to the deeper levels, i'm of a mind to have one staircase -- The Endless Stair -- that traverses the entire depth of the dungeon. Not a staircase that goes directly down mind you, but one that meanders, splits, crosses chasms, follows underground rivers, backtracks on itself, and reveals varying architectural styles at different points in its' descent.

As the stairs decend, there are dungeon levels hiving off in different directions, sometimes blocked by hastily-completed walls, or locked and barred doors, offering danger, mystery and treasure. There may be collapsed stair sections along the way, requiring magical or mechanic means of bypass, and portcullises on the staircase preventing immediate entry to lower levels for those lacking creativity, but there will be no question where those stairs are.

The only question ... for the players ... is whether they are feeling lucky today, and want to take a chance exploring lower dungeon levels in exchange for potentially higher rewards.

Saturday, March 19, 2011

Roleplaying About Anything

One of the great things about roleplaying games is that just about anything can be used as inspiration for a campaign, setting or encounter. Homebrew Dungeons and Dragons campaigns truly are "Products of Your Imagination(TM)."

For me, music is a powerful source of gaming inspiration. Some two decades ago, I used "King Of Pain," by The Police, as the basis for an encounter. The setting: five seated statues, not specifically identified, but representing the Gods of War, Pain, Plenty, Peace, and Death.

Behind the statues, were various paintings; clues to the encounter, and all images from the Police song. Moving the Statue of the God of Pain would unlock a secret door: moving any of the other statues would jam the secret door mechanism.

Obviously, this tested player skill, not character skill. But I had two huge Police fans at the table, so the test was entirely fair.

Roleplaying About Anything

One of the great things about roleplaying games is that just about anything can be used as inspiration for a campaign, setting or encounter. Homebrew Dungeons and Dragons campaigns truly are "Products of Your Imagination(TM)."

For me, music is a powerful source of gaming inspiration. Some two decades ago, I used "King Of Pain," by The Police, as the basis for an encounter. The setting: five seated statues, not specifically identified, but representing the Gods of War, Pain, Plenty, Peace, and Death.

Behind the statues, were various paintings; clues to the encounter, and all images from the Police song. Moving the Statue of the God of Pain would unlock a secret door: moving any of the other statues would jam the secret door mechanism.

Obviously, this tested player skill, not character skill. But I had two huge Police fans at the table, so the test was entirely fair.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Dying Earth RPG Character Creation

It's common knowledge that I possess old-school character-creation sensibilities. My preferences lean towards the 3d6-in-attribute-order method. I'm suspicious of those who avail themselves of the ability-score adjustment rules, and consider the use of 4d6-drop-the-lowest to be needlessly decadent. Don't even get me started on point-buy systems.

Knowing that about me will be of assistance, then, in understanding why I experienced some initial resistance to The Dying Earth RPG character creation system.

The Dying Earth RPG (DERPG) is a deliciously punctilious role-playing game adaptation of the fantasy world conjured by Jack Vance bearing the same name. The introductory chapter to DERPG sets the tone for Dying Earth campaigns, by promulgating the following admonishments:

1. If you're in a fight, something has probably gone horribly wrong ... far better to gain the upper hand through cunning, wit and treachery;
2. Characters are more or less alike ... Dying Earth characters have lightly characterised, streamlined personalities;
3. Killing? How uncivilized ... the accepted way to defeat an opponent is through humiliation, impoverishment and slavery; and,
4. Your character will inevitably suffer reverses. Try to enjoy it ... since character improvement comes from entertaining the other players and GM, look at dismal and ridiculous predicaments as opportunities to use your creativity.

Having been properly forewarned in the introduction, the second chapter of DERPG dives into character creation. Like most role-playing games, every character has certain attributes. In the case of DERPG, there are six principal attributes, which I will equate, roughly, with a D&D equivalent:

Persuade (Charisma) -- this attribute determines how convincing you are
Rebuff (Wisdom) -- this determines your resistance to being hoodwinked
Attack (Strength) -- this determines your combat ability
Defence (Dexterity) -- this determines your ability to avoid blows
Health (Constitution) -- this determines your capacity to absorb damage
Magic (Intelligence) -- this determines your magical aptitude

I use those purported equivalences only as a blunt instrument, to provide some conceptual signposts. The actual employment of the DERPG attributes differs significantly from the use of the cited D&D attributes. Each DERPG attribute, above, will have a score attached to it. In combination with that score, each attribute has six styles. For example, I might have a Persuade score of 9. In addition, I will have one of the following persuade styles: glib, eloquent, obfuscatory, forthright, charming, or intimidating.

In addition to the above attributes, DERPG characters utilize a "faculties" system, that encompasses attack styles, skills, relationships, retainers, possessions, and temptation resistances.

DERPG uses a point-buy method of character creation. Between the six principal attributes and the additional "faculties", each player begins with 60 points to distribute between the attributes and faculties. If players are prepared to allow their attribute 'styles' to be generated randomly, they are awarded an additional 6 points for each attribute style so generated. Since the Health attribute has no related styles, a player could have as many as 90 points [60 + (5 attributes x 6 points)] to distribute between the attributes and faculties.

FACULTIES

Points can be allocated to the following faculties:

Attack Styles: there are six attack styles, with each style costing 2 points from the player's pool. Each attack style comes with a melee and missile weapon skill.

Skills: there are 23 skills (Appraisal, Athletics, Concealment, Craftsmanship, Driving, Engineering, Etiquette, Gambling, Imposture, Living Rough, Pedantry, Perception, Physician, Quick Fingers, Riding, Scuttlebutt, Seamanship, Seduction, Stealth, Stewardship, Tracking, Wealth, and Wherewithal). More than one point can be allocated to a particular skill, so a player may give his character a "gambling" skill of 4 -- thus increasing his chances of success should he engage in a game of cards, for example.

Relationships: players can assign points to relationships with certain notable figures (a prince, famous wizard, captain of the watch) giving them the possibility of enlisting their aid.

Retainers: the cost of those depend on how loyal the retainer is expected to be, whether they be diligent (expensive), unctuous, or recalcitrant (cheap).

Possessions: points must be spent to furnish yourself with worldly goods. Whether it be a foppish hat, fashionable cloak, a length of rope to bind a deodand, a treatise on edible plants, or a good stout cudgel to subdue your foes, each possession costs at least one point. Extra points can be spent to ensure you and your possessions are not easily parted.

Resistances: DERPG characters are notoriously susceptible to temptation, whether it be through arrogance, avarice, gourmandism, indolence, pettifoggery, or rakishness. Players who wish their characters to resist those temptations during the game must spend points during character creation to do so.

There, then, is an overview of the DERPG character creation system. As I mentioned earlier, i'm naturally pre-disposed to dislike point-buy systems, and just as equally resistant to skill systems (despite my affection for Traveller). I will grudgingly admit that this works for DERPG, insofar as the game itself presumes that "characters are more or less alike". Thus, it stands to reason that the character creation system is going to provide roughly equal points to each player. Still, I can't help but wonder whether the DERPG attributes themselves could not be randomly determined ... but there again, my old prejudices rearing their heads.

Several days ago, I passed the 200 followers milestone. I am humbled and honored. There seems to be a tradition in the blogging community (albeit imperfectly observed) that the affected blogger celebrate the occasion by running a contest. Since I have recently become infatuated with The Dying Earth RPG, it is only fitting that I should award a copy of this illustrious RPG tome to one of my wonderful readers. Therefore, from those responders who comment on this post, I will select one, randomly, to which I will bequeath a relatively unblemished copy of that RPG. I ask only that, in your response, you use a Vancian phrase, or Vancian language. From those who respond in the requested manner by 11:59 pm, November 12, 2010, one will be randomly selected and will be mailed the RPG, at my expense.

Dying Earth RPG Character Creation

It's common knowledge that I possess old-school character-creation sensibilities. My preferences lean towards the 3d6-in-attribute-order method. I'm suspicious of those who avail themselves of the ability-score adjustment rules, and consider the use of 4d6-drop-the-lowest to be needlessly decadent. Don't even get me started on point-buy systems.

Knowing that about me will be of assistance, then, in understanding why I experienced some initial resistance to The Dying Earth RPG character creation system.

The Dying Earth RPG (DERPG) is a deliciously punctilious role-playing game adaptation of the fantasy world conjured by Jack Vance bearing the same name. The introductory chapter to DERPG sets the tone for Dying Earth campaigns, by promulgating the following admonishments:

1. If you're in a fight, something has probably gone horribly wrong ... far better to gain the upper hand through cunning, wit and treachery;
2. Characters are more or less alike ... Dying Earth characters have lightly characterised, streamlined personalities;
3. Killing? How uncivilized ... the accepted way to defeat an opponent is through humiliation, impoverishment and slavery; and,
4. Your character will inevitably suffer reverses. Try to enjoy it ... since character improvement comes from entertaining the other players and GM, look at dismal and ridiculous predicaments as opportunities to use your creativity.

Having been properly forewarned in the introduction, the second chapter of DERPG dives into character creation. Like most role-playing games, every character has certain attributes. In the case of DERPG, there are six principal attributes, which I will equate, roughly, with a D&D equivalent:

Persuade (Charisma) -- this attribute determines how convincing you are
Rebuff (Wisdom) -- this determines your resistance to being hoodwinked
Attack (Strength) -- this determines your combat ability
Defence (Dexterity) -- this determines your ability to avoid blows
Health (Constitution) -- this determines your capacity to absorb damage
Magic (Intelligence) -- this determines your magical aptitude

I use those purported equivalences only as a blunt instrument, to provide some conceptual signposts. The actual employment of the DERPG attributes differs significantly from the use of the cited D&D attributes. Each DERPG attribute, above, will have a score attached to it. In combination with that score, each attribute has six styles. For example, I might have a Persuade score of 9. In addition, I will have one of the following persuade styles: glib, eloquent, obfuscatory, forthright, charming, or intimidating.

In addition to the above attributes, DERPG characters utilize a "faculties" system, that encompasses attack styles, skills, relationships, retainers, possessions, and temptation resistances.

DERPG uses a point-buy method of character creation. Between the six principal attributes and the additional "faculties", each player begins with 60 points to distribute between the attributes and faculties. If players are prepared to allow their attribute 'styles' to be generated randomly, they are awarded an additional 6 points for each attribute style so generated. Since the Health attribute has no related styles, a player could have as many as 90 points [60 + (5 attributes x 6 points)] to distribute between the attributes and faculties.

FACULTIES

Points can be allocated to the following faculties:

Attack Styles: there are six attack styles, with each style costing 2 points from the player's pool. Each attack style comes with a melee and missile weapon skill.

Skills: there are 23 skills (Appraisal, Athletics, Concealment, Craftsmanship, Driving, Engineering, Etiquette, Gambling, Imposture, Living Rough, Pedantry, Perception, Physician, Quick Fingers, Riding, Scuttlebutt, Seamanship, Seduction, Stealth, Stewardship, Tracking, Wealth, and Wherewithal). More than one point can be allocated to a particular skill, so a player may give his character a "gambling" skill of 4 -- thus increasing his chances of success should he engage in a game of cards, for example.

Relationships: players can assign points to relationships with certain notable figures (a prince, famous wizard, captain of the watch) giving them the possibility of enlisting their aid.

Retainers: the cost of those depend on how loyal the retainer is expected to be, whether they be diligent (expensive), unctuous, or recalcitrant (cheap).

Possessions: points must be spent to furnish yourself with worldly goods. Whether it be a foppish hat, fashionable cloak, a length of rope to bind a deodand, a treatise on edible plants, or a good stout cudgel to subdue your foes, each possession costs at least one point. Extra points can be spent to ensure you and your possessions are not easily parted.

Resistances: DERPG characters are notoriously susceptible to temptation, whether it be through arrogance, avarice, gourmandism, indolence, pettifoggery, or rakishness. Players who wish their characters to resist those temptations during the game must spend points during character creation to do so.

There, then, is an overview of the DERPG character creation system. As I mentioned earlier, i'm naturally pre-disposed to dislike point-buy systems, and just as equally resistant to skill systems (despite my affection for Traveller). I will grudgingly admit that this works for DERPG, insofar as the game itself presumes that "characters are more or less alike". Thus, it stands to reason that the character creation system is going to provide roughly equal points to each player. Still, I can't help but wonder whether the DERPG attributes themselves could not be randomly determined ... but there again, my old prejudices rearing their heads.

Several days ago, I passed the 200 followers milestone. I am humbled and honored. There seems to be a tradition in the blogging community (albeit imperfectly observed) that the affected blogger celebrate the occasion by running a contest. Since I have recently become infatuated with The Dying Earth RPG, it is only fitting that I should award a copy of this illustrious RPG tome to one of my wonderful readers. Therefore, from those responders who comment on this post, I will select one, randomly, to which I will bequeath a relatively unblemished copy of that RPG. I ask only that, in your response, you use a Vancian phrase, or Vancian language. From those who respond in the requested manner by 11:59 pm, November 12, 2010, one will be randomly selected and will be mailed the RPG, at my expense.

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.

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.

Thursday, September 30, 2010

Vancian Magic? Prattian Magic?

"In a world governed by magic, you may find the Law of Similarity, valid."

What's the Law of Similarity?" asked Bayard sharply.

"The Law of Similarity may be stated thus: Effects resemble causes. For example, you can make it rain by pouring water on the ground, with the appropriate mumbo-jumbo."

"Another is the Law of Contagion: Things, once in contact, continue to interact from a distance after separation."

Chalmers continued. "From the elementary principles of Similarity and Contagion, we now proceed to the more practical applications of magic. First, the composition of spells. The normal spell consists of several components, which may be termed the verbal, somatic and material. In the verbal section, the consideration is whether the spell is to be based on the materials at hand, or upon the invocation of a higher authority. And the verbal component should conform to the poetic conventions of the environment."

However, there is also a somatic component to a spell, subject to more precise regulation. There is some point in connection with this component that eludes me."

(The Compleat Enchanter, L. Sprague deCamp and Fletcher Pratt)

While the old-school D&D magic system is often described as Vancian, it is actually a mish-mash of different magic systems, mixed together in an unholy goulash. Take the magic system described in deCamp and Pratt's magical misadventures of Harold Shea. In that system, spells can be created, without advance study or meditation, as long as appropriate material, verbal and somatic components are combined. While the impressing of spells upon ones mind was borrowed from Vance, the idea of material, verbal and somatic components, central to the magic system in AD&D, comes from deCamp and Pratt.

While I have a deep attachment to Vancian magic's daily spell preparation (from a game mechanic standpoint), I like the freedom of the Prattian magic system: players can produce any spell effect, on the fly, as long as they can come up with a reasonable argument for particular spell components, and can utter a convincing rhyme that would invoke the spell.

Hell, i'd give out experience points for that kind of "player skill" spell-casting.

Vancian Magic? Prattian Magic?

"In a world governed by magic, you may find the Law of Similarity, valid."

What's the Law of Similarity?" asked Bayard sharply.

"The Law of Similarity may be stated thus: Effects resemble causes. For example, you can make it rain by pouring water on the ground, with the appropriate mumbo-jumbo."

"Another is the Law of Contagion: Things, once in contact, continue to interact from a distance after separation."

Chalmers continued. "From the elementary principles of Similarity and Contagion, we now proceed to the more practical applications of magic. First, the composition of spells. The normal spell consists of several components, which may be termed the verbal, somatic and material. In the verbal section, the consideration is whether the spell is to be based on the materials at hand, or upon the invocation of a higher authority. And the verbal component should conform to the poetic conventions of the environment."

However, there is also a somatic component to a spell, subject to more precise regulation. There is some point in connection with this component that eludes me."

(The Compleat Enchanter, L. Sprague deCamp and Fletcher Pratt)

While the old-school D&D magic system is often described as Vancian, it is actually a mish-mash of different magic systems, mixed together in an unholy goulash. Take the magic system described in deCamp and Pratt's magical misadventures of Harold Shea. In that system, spells can be created, without advance study or meditation, as long as appropriate material, verbal and somatic components are combined. While the impressing of spells upon ones mind was borrowed from Vance, the idea of material, verbal and somatic components, central to the magic system in AD&D, comes from deCamp and Pratt.

While I have a deep attachment to Vancian magic's daily spell preparation (from a game mechanic standpoint), I like the freedom of the Prattian magic system: players can produce any spell effect, on the fly, as long as they can come up with a reasonable argument for particular spell components, and can utter a convincing rhyme that would invoke the spell.

Hell, i'd give out experience points for that kind of "player skill" spell-casting.

Saturday, April 17, 2010

Player Skill In Combat I: Resource Management

Last month I was musing about player-skill, and how I would love to employ a set of combat rules that utilized a player-skill system in some fashion.

When I use the term player-skill system, I mean a method of encounter or event-resolution, that (while not always independent of the rolling of dice) considers such things as the players’ use of strategic resource management, tactical thinking, deduction, information gathering, problem-solving based on common sense, rhetoric, and other types of appropriate in-game persuasion. I intend to cover all of those elements (and any others that come to mind) over the next several weeks, to investigate their application to combat.

The difficulty with applying player-skill to combat is that combat is one of the few systems of any role-playing game where the players demand certainty. Hand-waving, die-roll adjustments for good role-playing, and dialogue-based problem resolution are all well and good, when the only thing at stake is the delay of one 10 minute turn. But when you are talking the life or death of a character, players want to know that the applied combat-resolution system is transparent, even-handed and contains a reasonable measure of statistical predictability.

Are player-skill and combat systems mutually exclusive? Some might argue that the question is moot, since many combat systems seemingly include a player-skill component. After all, if you look at the 4th Edition of Dungeons and Dragons, there is a multiplicity of options for players to choose from, when it comes to choosing combat tactics. Surely the ability to pre-select from a host of feats, and then apply the appropriate feat in the right circumstance, is evidence of the application of player-skill.

I would argue that most games that use those combat feat systems cannot be characterized as player-skill based. Certainly, the player has selected the skills they intend to employ. But that approach to game-play is, in fact, based on system-mastery, not player skill. Players utilizing system-mastery rely on an understanding of how the game system works, using that meta-knowledge to maximize in-game success. The feats in those combat systems are by and large wholly artificial: a fresh player would not be able to use deduction or common sense, based on their understanding of real world physics, common sense or historical tactics, to intuit the most appropriate feat to apply in a combat situation. They would need to understand the relationships between their artificially constructed feats and those of other players in order to take advantage of the designed synergies … system-mastery.

Earlier, I opined that a good player-skill combat system might look a lot like a game of poker. I said this because, in my opinion, poker is a game where, over time, it is not the player who is dealt the best cards that wins, but the one who uses her observational, rhetorical, tactical and strategic skills to outlast and out-bluff her opponents. As the song goes, “you gotta know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em, know when to walk away, know when to run.”

Resource management (poker chips) is a critical component in the success of a poker player. In the same way, resource management is a critical component of success for D&D players, particularly when it comes to combat. Whether the resource be spells, hit points, arrows, light sources, or what have you, player-skill can be demonstrated in the conservation and judicious and novel use of resources in combat.

Most of you may not be familiar with the combat system utilized in the Lord of the Rings Strategy Battle Game (LOTR:SBG), released by Games Workshop. For some it is because you are not interested in Lord of the Rings milieu itself. Others prefer role-playing and have little interest in table-top battlegames. Others may have heard that the system is simplistic and so never investigated it.

While the system is simpler than, say Games Workshop’s Warhammer, LOTR:SBG has some interesting and elegant design features (and more importantly, character resource management features) that provide interesting talking points regarding resource management.

While my rulebook for LOTR:SBG is 240 pages, the basic rules themselves represent only about 50 of those pages. The rest of the book is filled with painting guides, advanced rules (such as sieges, banners and optional rules), combat scenarios, and photos of various combatants and monsters in miniature (and their related game statistics).

I offer you the following primer on the combat system for LOTR:SBG. Each combatant has a set of combat attributes:

Fighting Skill – think of this as similar to levels in D&D, divorced from extra hit points and other benefits of increased levels. The better your fighting skill, the better your chance of winning a combat. LOTR:SBG uses an opposed-rolls combat system, based on six-sided dice, with the combatants rolling simultaneously, and the higher of the two opposed-rolls winning the contest. In the event of a tie (which happens roughly 17% of the time), the character with the higher fighting skill wins the combat. Therefore, all other things being equal, (see number of attacks, below, for situations where the combat is not equal) a warrior with a higher fighting skill has a 57% chance of winning a combat, while his opponent has a 43% chance. Put another way, in any fight between two otherwise-equal combatants, the warrior with the higher fighting skill will prevail in 3 out of every 5 contests.

Strength and Defence – roughly analogous to the Strength attribute and Armor Class of Dungeons and Dragons. Strength represents how forceful your attack is, with more massive and stronger opponents having higher strength scores than smaller and weaker ones. LOTR:SBG’s defence score represents both the fleetness-of-foot and protective armor of a warrior. In LOTR:SBG, the higher your strength, the more likely you are to inflict wounds if you win a combat (based on the above-mentioned opposed-roll combat system). A high defence improves your likelihood of avoiding that wound, in the event you lose a combat The strength of the winner and defence of the loser are compared to a wound probability matrix, from which the related wound probability is determined. The winner rolls to see if she can meet or exceed that probability, and if so, she inflicts a wound on the loser.

Number of Attacks: in LOTR:SBG, number of attacks works in conjunction with fighting skill. Experienced warriors will often have a higher fighting skill as well as a higher number of attacks, improving both their chance of winning a battle, and subsequently inflicting multiple wounds on the loser. A higher number of attacks translates into a larger dice-pool of six-sided dice (utilized in the previously-described opposed-rolls combat system). A warrior with three attacks would roll three dice using that combat system, while a warrior with one attack would roll one die. When rolling multiple dice based on the number of attacks, only the highest digit that player rolls is used to determine whether they win the combat. So the combatant with the higher number of attacks has a better probability of rolling high.

For example, a warrior with one attack has a 17% chance of scoring a 6, while a warrior with three attacks has a 42% chance of scoring a 6 (on any one of those three dice). Conversely, a warrior with one attack has a 17% chance of scoring a one, while the warrior with three dice has only a 1% chance of scoring a one (on all three dice).

The combat victor also rolls the same number of dice to determine wounds. Therefore, a successful combatant with three attacks could score as many as three wounds on the loser.

Wounds: this represents the number of hits a warrior can take before being eliminated from the battle. Each combatant in LOTR:SBG has a certain number of wounds. Most rank-and-file warriors and rabble can take only one wound, while heroes and monsters will have several wounds.

Courage: this attribute represents bravery and determination. In LOTR:SBG it is used to determine whether a character will stay in the battle, the same way Morale checks are used in old-school D&D. The difference is that in LOTR:SBG, courage (Morale) checks are applied to one’s heroes, not only to ones’ hirelings and henchmen, and the opposing monsters. In LOTR:SBG, having an improved courage score is important, as not only does it keep you in the battle, but it also allows you to rally your followers.

Taken by themselves, the above LOTR:SBG attributes result in a largely character-skill based combat system. The above attributes only affect dice rolls.

The way the strategic resource management portion of LOTR:SBG is revealed is in the following three additional heroic attributes: Might, Will and Fate.

Might: this attribute is a measure of the heroes’ ability to perform unusual and encounter-altering actions. Similar to “bennies” in Savage Worlds, or luck points in other game systems, in LOTR:SBG, Might allows you to attempt special heroic actions (such as pre-empting others in the already-established initiative order, altering an archery die-roll, adjusting a combat or wounds roll, engaging in pre-emptive archery attacks, making additional moves, adjusting “saving throws” and courage checks, or hewing through your current opponents so as to join a second combat). Every hero in LOTR:SBG has a limited number of might points that can be spent during a game.

The player’s decision about when and how to use her might points, is the player-skill portion of the LOTR:SBG system. Do you use the might points early, to score an extra wound or two, or do you save the might points, to be used later in the encounter, when it will decisively swing the tide of battle? The use of the might points becomes a resource management, as well as strategic decision, which reveals the player’s skill in applying those precious might points at the right time, to favourably affect the course of the adventure.

Will: this represents the ability of the possessor to persevere in the face of challenges and setbacks, and use and resist the effects of spells. In LOTR:SBG, Will is used to alter courage checks, in addition to casting and resisting spells. In comparison, in Dungeons and Dragons, spell resistance is applied via a saving throw. I like the idea of will, as used in LOTR:SBG, as it has some interesting sword & sorcery rpg implications: characters with low will-points will eventually succumb to the domination of an evil sorcerer, once their will-points are exhausted from resisting his spells. In addition, will is used by Wizards to cast spells, and for opposing characters to resist the effects of those spells.

In terms of resource management, similar comments apply to will as apply to might: do you use a point of will to cast a spell, or to ensure you pass your courage test, or resist the spell of another wizard, or do you save those will points until your need is dire?

Fate: this is the last LOTR:SBG heroic ability, and represents the ability of the individual to cheat death, or otherwise avoid some unpleasant fate. I like this particular feature of LOTR:SBG and would relish its application to a role-playing game. Instead of taking a wound, a hero can exhaust one of his fate points, and therefore avoid taking actual damage.

I have frequently expressed my dislike for the single mechanic of hit-points, as I disagree with the notion that the ‘luck’ or ‘skill’ portion of hit-points should be recovered at the same rate as actual wounds. I much prefer the idea that hit-points be separated out into wounds and fate, with wounds taking time to heal, while fate can be restored after, say, a good night’s sleep.

Fate is the attribute least affected by resource management issues. A player is probably wise to use those fate points immediately, rather than taking the wound, regardless of your current situation.

Even though LOTR:SBG has a very unambiguous character-skill based combat system, the introduction of Might, Will and (to a lesser degree) Fate provides an opportunity for the players to make strategic resource management decisions, to alter the outcome of a combat. Even though the MWF rules are tightly structured, player-skill is still evident in the timing of the use of those heroic attributes.

Player Skill In Combat I: Resource Management

Last month I was musing about player-skill, and how I would love to employ a set of combat rules that utilized a player-skill system in some fashion.

When I use the term player-skill system, I mean a method of encounter or event-resolution, that (while not always independent of the rolling of dice) considers such things as the players’ use of strategic resource management, tactical thinking, deduction, information gathering, problem-solving based on common sense, rhetoric, and other types of appropriate in-game persuasion. I intend to cover all of those elements (and any others that come to mind) over the next several weeks, to investigate their application to combat.

The difficulty with applying player-skill to combat is that combat is one of the few systems of any role-playing game where the players demand certainty. Hand-waving, die-roll adjustments for good role-playing, and dialogue-based problem resolution are all well and good, when the only thing at stake is the delay of one 10 minute turn. But when you are talking the life or death of a character, players want to know that the applied combat-resolution system is transparent, even-handed and contains a reasonable measure of statistical predictability.

Are player-skill and combat systems mutually exclusive? Some might argue that the question is moot, since many combat systems seemingly include a player-skill component. After all, if you look at the 4th Edition of Dungeons and Dragons, there is a multiplicity of options for players to choose from, when it comes to choosing combat tactics. Surely the ability to pre-select from a host of feats, and then apply the appropriate feat in the right circumstance, is evidence of the application of player-skill.

I would argue that most games that use those combat feat systems cannot be characterized as player-skill based. Certainly, the player has selected the skills they intend to employ. But that approach to game-play is, in fact, based on system-mastery, not player skill. Players utilizing system-mastery rely on an understanding of how the game system works, using that meta-knowledge to maximize in-game success. The feats in those combat systems are by and large wholly artificial: a fresh player would not be able to use deduction or common sense, based on their understanding of real world physics, common sense or historical tactics, to intuit the most appropriate feat to apply in a combat situation. They would need to understand the relationships between their artificially constructed feats and those of other players in order to take advantage of the designed synergies … system-mastery.

Earlier, I opined that a good player-skill combat system might look a lot like a game of poker. I said this because, in my opinion, poker is a game where, over time, it is not the player who is dealt the best cards that wins, but the one who uses her observational, rhetorical, tactical and strategic skills to outlast and out-bluff her opponents. As the song goes, “you gotta know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em, know when to walk away, know when to run.”

Resource management (poker chips) is a critical component in the success of a poker player. In the same way, resource management is a critical component of success for D&D players, particularly when it comes to combat. Whether the resource be spells, hit points, arrows, light sources, or what have you, player-skill can be demonstrated in the conservation and judicious and novel use of resources in combat.

Most of you may not be familiar with the combat system utilized in the Lord of the Rings Strategy Battle Game (LOTR:SBG), released by Games Workshop. For some it is because you are not interested in Lord of the Rings milieu itself. Others prefer role-playing and have little interest in table-top battlegames. Others may have heard that the system is simplistic and so never investigated it.

While the system is simpler than, say Games Workshop’s Warhammer, LOTR:SBG has some interesting and elegant design features (and more importantly, character resource management features) that provide interesting talking points regarding resource management.

While my rulebook for LOTR:SBG is 240 pages, the basic rules themselves represent only about 50 of those pages. The rest of the book is filled with painting guides, advanced rules (such as sieges, banners and optional rules), combat scenarios, and photos of various combatants and monsters in miniature (and their related game statistics).

I offer you the following primer on the combat system for LOTR:SBG. Each combatant has a set of combat attributes:

Fighting Skill – think of this as similar to levels in D&D, divorced from extra hit points and other benefits of increased levels. The better your fighting skill, the better your chance of winning a combat. LOTR:SBG uses an opposed-rolls combat system, based on six-sided dice, with the combatants rolling simultaneously, and the higher of the two opposed-rolls winning the contest. In the event of a tie (which happens roughly 17% of the time), the character with the higher fighting skill wins the combat. Therefore, all other things being equal, (see number of attacks, below, for situations where the combat is not equal) a warrior with a higher fighting skill has a 57% chance of winning a combat, while his opponent has a 43% chance. Put another way, in any fight between two otherwise-equal combatants, the warrior with the higher fighting skill will prevail in 3 out of every 5 contests.

Strength and Defence – roughly analogous to the Strength attribute and Armor Class of Dungeons and Dragons. Strength represents how forceful your attack is, with more massive and stronger opponents having higher strength scores than smaller and weaker ones. LOTR:SBG’s defence score represents both the fleetness-of-foot and protective armor of a warrior. In LOTR:SBG, the higher your strength, the more likely you are to inflict wounds if you win a combat (based on the above-mentioned opposed-roll combat system). A high defence improves your likelihood of avoiding that wound, in the event you lose a combat The strength of the winner and defence of the loser are compared to a wound probability matrix, from which the related wound probability is determined. The winner rolls to see if she can meet or exceed that probability, and if so, she inflicts a wound on the loser.

Number of Attacks: in LOTR:SBG, number of attacks works in conjunction with fighting skill. Experienced warriors will often have a higher fighting skill as well as a higher number of attacks, improving both their chance of winning a battle, and subsequently inflicting multiple wounds on the loser. A higher number of attacks translates into a larger dice-pool of six-sided dice (utilized in the previously-described opposed-rolls combat system). A warrior with three attacks would roll three dice using that combat system, while a warrior with one attack would roll one die. When rolling multiple dice based on the number of attacks, only the highest digit that player rolls is used to determine whether they win the combat. So the combatant with the higher number of attacks has a better probability of rolling high.

For example, a warrior with one attack has a 17% chance of scoring a 6, while a warrior with three attacks has a 42% chance of scoring a 6 (on any one of those three dice). Conversely, a warrior with one attack has a 17% chance of scoring a one, while the warrior with three dice has only a 1% chance of scoring a one (on all three dice).

The combat victor also rolls the same number of dice to determine wounds. Therefore, a successful combatant with three attacks could score as many as three wounds on the loser.

Wounds: this represents the number of hits a warrior can take before being eliminated from the battle. Each combatant in LOTR:SBG has a certain number of wounds. Most rank-and-file warriors and rabble can take only one wound, while heroes and monsters will have several wounds.

Courage: this attribute represents bravery and determination. In LOTR:SBG it is used to determine whether a character will stay in the battle, the same way Morale checks are used in old-school D&D. The difference is that in LOTR:SBG, courage (Morale) checks are applied to one’s heroes, not only to ones’ hirelings and henchmen, and the opposing monsters. In LOTR:SBG, having an improved courage score is important, as not only does it keep you in the battle, but it also allows you to rally your followers.

Taken by themselves, the above LOTR:SBG attributes result in a largely character-skill based combat system. The above attributes only affect dice rolls.

The way the strategic resource management portion of LOTR:SBG is revealed is in the following three additional heroic attributes: Might, Will and Fate.

Might: this attribute is a measure of the heroes’ ability to perform unusual and encounter-altering actions. Similar to “bennies” in Savage Worlds, or luck points in other game systems, in LOTR:SBG, Might allows you to attempt special heroic actions (such as pre-empting others in the already-established initiative order, altering an archery die-roll, adjusting a combat or wounds roll, engaging in pre-emptive archery attacks, making additional moves, adjusting “saving throws” and courage checks, or hewing through your current opponents so as to join a second combat). Every hero in LOTR:SBG has a limited number of might points that can be spent during a game.

The player’s decision about when and how to use her might points, is the player-skill portion of the LOTR:SBG system. Do you use the might points early, to score an extra wound or two, or do you save the might points, to be used later in the encounter, when it will decisively swing the tide of battle? The use of the might points becomes a resource management, as well as strategic decision, which reveals the player’s skill in applying those precious might points at the right time, to favourably affect the course of the adventure.

Will: this represents the ability of the possessor to persevere in the face of challenges and setbacks, and use and resist the effects of spells. In LOTR:SBG, Will is used to alter courage checks, in addition to casting and resisting spells. In comparison, in Dungeons and Dragons, spell resistance is applied via a saving throw. I like the idea of will, as used in LOTR:SBG, as it has some interesting sword & sorcery rpg implications: characters with low will-points will eventually succumb to the domination of an evil sorcerer, once their will-points are exhausted from resisting his spells. In addition, will is used by Wizards to cast spells, and for opposing characters to resist the effects of those spells.

In terms of resource management, similar comments apply to will as apply to might: do you use a point of will to cast a spell, or to ensure you pass your courage test, or resist the spell of another wizard, or do you save those will points until your need is dire?

Fate: this is the last LOTR:SBG heroic ability, and represents the ability of the individual to cheat death, or otherwise avoid some unpleasant fate. I like this particular feature of LOTR:SBG and would relish its application to a role-playing game. Instead of taking a wound, a hero can exhaust one of his fate points, and therefore avoid taking actual damage.

I have frequently expressed my dislike for the single mechanic of hit-points, as I disagree with the notion that the ‘luck’ or ‘skill’ portion of hit-points should be recovered at the same rate as actual wounds. I much prefer the idea that hit-points be separated out into wounds and fate, with wounds taking time to heal, while fate can be restored after, say, a good night’s sleep.

Fate is the attribute least affected by resource management issues. A player is probably wise to use those fate points immediately, rather than taking the wound, regardless of your current situation.

Even though LOTR:SBG has a very unambiguous character-skill based combat system, the introduction of Might, Will and (to a lesser degree) Fate provides an opportunity for the players to make strategic resource management decisions, to alter the outcome of a combat. Even though the MWF rules are tightly structured, player-skill is still evident in the timing of the use of those heroic attributes.