What Treasure Is

The title of this post is meant to be read literally only as applies to the D&D game. I would hope we all agree that REAL treasure is the time spent with family, friends, and loved ones (as I am often reminded by the holidays).

[and speaking of "treasured time:" we DID manage to finish our Axis & Allies game...after THREE DAYS...with the Allied forces capitulating once the Krauts had taken all of the USSR save Moscow, and after Italy had invaded the central United States through Mexico. Folks may find me silly to crow about beating a kid two weeks shy of his 11th birthday; truth is, I'm proud of how well he plays. He's also pretty sharp (he beats me in chess about one game in three these days) and a fast learner. And I was playing from behind most of the game after Italy got pwned in the Mediterranean theater and after I stupidly chose to neglect Russia till Turn 4 (I'm so used to having Japan invade from the east, and had a difficult time adjusting to the needs of the game's European Only limitations). Still, I managed to take the UK...twice!...and while London was firmly in the hands of the Allies by the end of the war, the Americanos' need to bring overwhelming force to the North Sea ended up losing them all of Africa to a German "end around"...which gave Italy the space they needed to recover their naval forces. I seriously doubt Diego will make the same mistake again]

[of course, now he wants A&A Pacific for his birthday. Oh, boy]

Onto AD&D.

I am running the kids through Hommlet. Yes, T1...not the Temple of Elemental Evil mega-set (which I own and which is a disaster to parse). This is the first time I've run T1 using the original rules for which it was intended; my only other experience with the adventure was running it as a PBEM 3rd edition conversion (you can read the transcripts which I posted to my blog a few years back). 

It's been...mm...a bit of a rough go. Mainly due to their being so few party members. The adventure itself seems fine for a group of six/seven 1st level players. We have two. They ended up hiring four of the NPC adventurers hanging around the Inn of the Wanton Wench, three of whom were of the evil, "ambush-the-party-when-they're-weak" variety...with the inevitable results; i.e. Total Party Kill. HOWEVER...the kids want to make new characters and go back to Ye Old Moat House, and I have a few workarounds that I'm going to try implementing with our next go of it. That will all be detailed in a (later) post.

[for the curious: the players are still playing in the same campaign world, but I haven't taken the time to place Hommlet on the map. I'm thinking probably down around Tri-Cities...or near them...due to the proximity to the Columbia River. Probably Burne and Rufus should be agents of the Tri-City States, though my first thought was to make them vassals of the Red Empire - i.e. Spokane - far to the north]

Treasure in Hommlet...a rather important consideration in AD&D...is quite good. Leaving aside what might be stolen from the village goodfolk, or looted from the bodies of evil henchmen, the moat house contains well over 30,000 g.p. of treasure, not even counting the sale value of magic items (which could push the total over 73K). Parties managing to find every scrap of loot AND retaining magic items (as opposed to selling them) can expect a haul of more than 41,000 experience points...enough for even a party of eight to climb to 3rd level...or higher! This is found in 17 of the 35 numbered areas, so roughly every other encounter will have something valuable for PCs to purloin. 

Certainly whets the appetites of new players. No wonder T1 is held in such high regard.

Of course, not all the treasure found is of the coin and gemstone variety. One locked door protects "30 shields, 12 suits of leather armor, and barrels of salted meat." Another hides "50 spears, 10 glaives, 6 guisarmes, 3 battleaxes" as well as "two crates holding 120 arrows and 200 crossbow bolts respectively." Along with hidden kegs of brandy and four score of "black capes" sewn with a "yellow eye of fire," these two rooms alone yield a rich hall of nearly 1,200 g.p. value (even counting the capes as a 5 s.p. traveling "cloak" from the PHB).

But JB, that stuff isn't treasure! It's just gear and supplies that can be used by ill-equipped parties or given to arm henchmen and mercenaries. Where's the REAL treasure...the coins and jewels and such? Okay, first off coins...like all money...are simply a medium of exchange. One uses coins as a portable way of acquiring goods and services. In the AD&D game they also serve an ADDITIONAL purpose of providing experience points to ambitious players. But all treasure serves that latter purpose...coins are simply going to be exchanged for provisions and supplies anyway.

Let's ask: what's the real objection here? That a sheaf of arrows doesn't glitter the same as a box of silver? Okay, fine. But leaving aside the practicality of an arrow (which can be used to kill a foe), do folks understand the cost-weight ratio is the same for an arrow as a silver coin coin? 

120 arrows = 240cns encumbrance = 12 g.p. value

240 silver = 240cns encumbrance = 12 g.p. value

And more valuable equipment has a greater weight-cost ratio:

30 shields = 150# = 300 g.p. value

1,500 s.p. = 150# = 75 g.p. value

10 glaives = 75# = 60 g.p. value

750 s.p. = 75# = 37.5 g.p. value

50 spears = 250# = 50 g.p. value

2,500 c.p. = 250# = 12.5 g.p. value

Now, sure, spears aren't worth their weight in silver (you'd rather find 250# of silver than 250# of spears), but how many times has a low-level party been perfectly happy with bagging a pile of 2,000 or 3,000 copper pieces after some fierce battle with giant rats? More than a few, I'd imagine, as starting adventurers can't afford (literally) to be picky about the loot being left around. But given the choice between retrieving six spears or a sack of 100 coppers, it's clear which "treasure" is worth more...not just for cash and x.p. but for practical value. 

The original D&D game (the LBBs) only offered only three types of coin to be found in a treasure: copper pieces, silver pieces, and gold pieces (electrum and platinum were offered as additional alternatives but their specific value was left undefined and in the hands of the referee). Rather than look at them as literal coins, I prefer to view them as valuables based on weight when building a treasure:

Copper = bulky items 

Silver = portable items

Gold = precious items

[when using electrum and platinum pieces, as in the AD&D game, this adds the categories of "semi-precious" and "very precious," respectively]

"Bulky" treasures weigh (approximately) 20# per 1 gold piece value. "Portable" treasures weigh about 2# per 1 gold piece value. "Precious" treasures are worth 10 gold pieces for every 1# of weight...again, as a rough approximation. 

Keeping this concept in mind, one can furnish and outfit one's adventure site with all manner of "treasures," rather than stashing coins in crevasses and under loose flagstones. A barracks or guardroom may have solid furniture (bulky treasure) rather than copper. A wizard's closet may have fine clothing (portable) or even expensive clothing (precious). An alchemist's lab may have glassware (portable), rare herbs (semi-precious), and an amazing collection of journals/notes (very precious). Even a torture chamber might have iron implements and strong shackles (bulky and/or portable) of value to someone.

This idea...that the coin values given in the Treasure Tables can be used in the abstract...is something I hit on a few year back when writing Five Ancient Kingdoms (my Arabian Nights version of OD&D) and it's something I've been doing ever since. I've seen others that have since stumbled onto the same concept; however, the underpinnings of this has been present since Gygax published the DMG in '79 in which he gave the following example:

A pair of exceedingly large, powerful and ferocious ogres has taken up abode in a chamber at the base of a shaft...these creatures have accumulated over 2,000 g.p. in wealth, but it is obviously not a pair of 1,000 g.p. gems. Rather, they have gathered an assortment of goods whose combined combined value is well in excess of two thousand gold nobles (the coin of the realm)...there are many copper and silver coins in a locked iron chest. There are pewter vessels worth a fair number of silver pieces. An inlaid wooden coffer, worth 100 gold pieces alone, holds a finely wrought silver necklace worth an incredible 350 gold pieces. Food and other provisions scattered about amount to another hundred or so gold nobles value, and one of the ogres wears a badly tanned fur cape which will fetch 50 gold pieces nonetheless. Finally, there are several good helmets (used as drinking cups), a bardiche, and a two-handed sword (with silver wire wrapped about its hilt and a lapis lazuli pommel to make it three times its normal value) which completes the treasure. If the adventurers overcome the ogres, they must still recognize all of the items of value and transport them to the surface...the bold victors have quite a task before them.

[from page 92]

When the Monster Manual tells you that the individual orc has 2-12 electrum pieces...or that the individual dwarf has 10-40 gold pieces...this should be taken as the value of the creature's goods on its person. "I'm going to loot the dead goblin's morning star...the PHB lists the weapon's price at 5 g.p. so I should be able to get at least a couple gold!" No, the combined value of the corpse's possessions is 3-18 silver pieces. 

[that morning star? It's a twisted piece of wood studded with spikes, teeth, and jagged metal. The goblin's helmet? Too small for a human and has an incredible stench...you'll need to purchase some strong lye just to get rid of the odor, even if you can find a halfling willing to buy it as a "collector's item." The shield? Broken when you killed the guy. His rags? Good luck selling those]

It's not like the orcs use electrum as the basic currency of their culture (though that might be interesting if they did).

D&D can, of course, be played in the abstract, and these treasure hoards facilitate that. "You find 1,000 copper, 3,000 silver, and 1,500 gold in the den of the hydra." But while this is a great expediter of play (it is!) it's also one of the main complaints voiced when detractors talk about how "boring" old edition D&D is. "Man, half our party was killed by giant rats and all we got out of it was 2,000 copper pieces."

No. What you found was 10 (or 20 depending on edition) gold coins worth of valuable food stuffs (unspoiled grain perhaps) in four large (50#) sacks. Deliver that to an inn, baker, or tavern and you can create a valuable contact and perhaps a place for rumors of further adventure. 

See, this is the thing: D&D is more than a game...if you allow it to be. It can be a place where you and your players LIVE, engaging with the imaginary setting/environment. And there's no need to write up any hoity-toity story or Uber-Quest to do so. Just develop the rules of the game that are already in front of your nose...and allow yourself the luxury of basking in the fantasy realm.

Back when we were playing through UK2: The Sentinel, the kids managed to acquire a nicely skinned giant beaver pelt (as a reward for something or other) that was worth a fair chunk of change. They took the x.p. for the piece and then, having been a bit flush with cash at the time, hired a tailor to work the think into a rich/warm lining for their armor, boots, etc.  That was the players' decision, not mine. And not only did it work fine as a bit of ostentatious display (hey! we be 3rd level adventurers now!), it also acted to make their wealth even more portable. After all, had the situation arose, they could have traded a rich, beaver-lined cloak (or whatever) for some sort of deal/negotiation with neutral/hostile NPCs.

Anyway...if you're playing Dungeons & Dragons in (what I deem to be) the correct fashion, the treasure is going to matter. What it is, what it does, what it's worth, and what it costs the players to acquire...not just in terms of hit point/resource expenditure, but in terms of weight/encumbrance. Because if you want to live in your D&D world, you're going to have to deal with the burdens associated with living which are (generally) logistical burdens. Do I have enough food? Can I afford to buy food? Can I carry more food? What must I sacrifice to eat?

It's pretty hard to make the trek to Mordor on an empty stomach.

You can deal with these things in the abstract (the treasure from that hydra den weighs 550# in encumbrance and is worth 1,655 g.p.) or you can hand wave such issues completely, instead choosing to focus on the character backstories, formal plots, and PC-NPC interaction in an attempt to create a grandiose story. However, the former approach reduces the game to something little more than the Dungeon! boardgame, and the latter...well, that's really a different animal. I find neither of these approaches to be satisfying in the long term.

So make your treasure meaningful...both to you the DM (as a substance/thing of your campaign world) and to your players (ditto). Value and encumbrance are the starting points, and then use the systems in place as guidelines to flesh out the details. It's those details that will make your dungeon loot something to be "treasured."

Isn't that why we call it treasure?

; )

Not A Board Game

Staring out at my dining and living room areas, I see a lot of board games that have been played in the last week or so: Axis & Allies, Life, Clue, Cranium, Monopoly, Chess. This is a bit unusual for the fam, but we've had a lack of external obligations and a heaping pile of rain...plus, I've just wanted the kids to do something besides fire up some sort of portable screen device. I'm a curmudgeon that way. 

Board games are not Dungeons & Dragons. I've seen a lot of "board game" posts and discussions around the blogs the last couple-three days...various angles, no one particular thread or thought...and I thought I might take a moment to belabor the point for a moment. Just because. 

Because I think it's important. 

Because, these days we often draw a line between "tabletop games" and "computer games" and while D&D is often (or potentially) played at/on a table, it's not the same thing as a tabletop game. Role-playing games of the "table-top" variety are NOT the same thing as common board or parlor games. 

I think we forget that. We talk about "un-plugging" from our phones or Switches or consoles (or whatever) to play an analog game and we lump RPGs in the same category as backgammon. They aren't the same...they're not even close. Sure, B/X was purchased in a box. So, too, are fancy cigars. 

Not. The. Same. Thing.

Consequently (and this is my point...as much as I ever have one), it's hardly any use judging RPGs by the same standards as other games. Yes, they have rules. Yes, they are played for enjoyment. The same could be said of a musical instrument. A saxophone is not the same as Chinese Checkers. Neither is an RPG.

RPGs need to be examined by their own standard. How well do they do the "RPG thing?" It's the only standard by which it makes sense to examine and analyze them. 

[*sigh* I don't know why I bother writing this since I'm sure it will either elicit cries of "duh" or deliberate and hard-headed denial. I suppose I just want to record my thoughts of the moment]

People choose to play RPGs for a variety of reasons. People choose to play golf or baseball for a variety of reasons. Pleasure, challenge, camaraderie, stimulation (mental, emotional, whatever), escapism. The "whys" of play is less concerning, less interesting to me at this moment than the hows and whats: What is an RPG? How does its design facilitate play? 

And of the hundreds or so RPGs I have owned, read, and/or played over the years, there is one RPG that stands head-and-shoulders over the entirety of the others with the way in which its HOW delivers on the promise of its WHAT. 

RPGs provide rules for participants to explore an imaginary environment. There's the WHAT.

That's "all" they do (yeah, it's a bit of a large "all"). But it's certainly different from what a board or computer game provides, namely a fixed structure of finite possibility. There may be exploration that takes place in a computer/board game, but it is always...ALWAYS...a limited potentiality.

RPGs are not structurally limited. Their environs...the imaginary realm in which games are played...are limitless. The rules provide procedure and (some) structure, but the potential for infinite possibility exists in every single RPG, even a game as constrained by procedure as, say, My Life With Master or Dogs in the Vineyard. 

The game of chess has a finite number of possible moves or combinations of play, just as does Tic-Tac Toe. Unlike the latter, those possible combinations number so many as to be...for practical purposes...uncountable. But given enough time (or enough computer memory) one could map out every possible sequence of plays given a board with a limited number of spaces and a limited number of pieces. 

That's not possible with an RPG.

SO...now that I've defined the "what," we can look at the "how" and for the vast majority of RPGs, we can observe that designers tend to include some sort of conflict or "drama" to help drive the game or (at least) instill action in the game's participants.

Recognize that such conflict isn't necessary to the play of most RPGs (depending on how structurally tight their rules/procedures are). What if I said my fighter wanted to give up the mercenary work and start a farm? What if I decided I wanted to find a local village woman to woo and start a family with? What if the only "role-playing" interaction I wanted was with my neighboring villagers, discussing their issues and petty soap operas?

If the Dungeon Master and other players are on board with this type of game, nothing precludes the campaign from following this road. Maybe the magic-user wishes to start a school for the village children. Maybe the cleric wants to help the local pastor put a new roof on the church. Maybe the party thief decides he's done with his life of crime and decides to be the town sheriff, using his abilities to do "detective work," while being pleasant and sociable and atoning for his past pickpocketing and housebreaking. 

Certainly, the rules provided in the PHB and DMG support (and encourage) a different style of play from this, but nothing prevents the group from going this route. Nothing stops the Dungeon Master from having an alien spaceship land in the village green one day, either...perhaps with friendly extraterrestrials that wish the village to board their ship and travel to a distant star to build a new colony or help terraform a planet that's atmosphere is conducive to humans (but not the e.b.s). 

Endless possibilities with RPGs. Because the only (stated) objectives of play are "have fun" and "don't die" ...and the latter objective is secondary due to players' capability of creating replacement characters as necessary.

All that being said, the design of an RPG (the "HOW") is what provides the basis of comparison between different RPGs effectiveness of delivering an RPG experience. And in reviewing various RPGs and their designs, I cannot find a design more satisfying than that of Dungeons & Dragons. The premise of the game and the asymmetry of available player options combine to create a unique cooperative experience with modulated levels of adrenaline/stress/satisfaction that is a function of both GM creativity and players' own comfort level with regard to risk-reward.

It is (to me) unfortunate that later iterations of the D&D game have sought to limit and depress these elements.

But most RPGs aren't nearly so pointed or well-designed (at least in concept...all editions of D&D fall down at times in execution of the concept). And, yes, I write that knowing full well that the soundness of D&D's design is due as much to "happy accident" as to any real design chops. Regardless, of the RPGs that I've had the pleasure of playing over the years, there is really only one that comes to delivering, conceptually, as well as (and in as like fashion as) Dungeons & Dragons does. And I'm kind of surprised by the answer:

Shadowrun.

All the more surprising, because A) I didn't come to that conclusion before just now (when, while coming to this point of my writing, I stopped to review a mental list of all the RPGs I've owned, read, and played over the years), and B) I've been doing some....mmm..."stuff" with Cry Dark Future the last couple days.

[more on that later]

Okay, enough blathering. I've said my piece. Hopefully I'll have a thing or two to say on campaigns and treasure in the next few days. Hasta pronto.

Show and Tell

A couple days ago, Timothy Brannan commented on my "Bubble" post. Part of what he wrote included the following:

Moldvay, Holmes and Mentzer Basics were all a product of their times. That is getting people (often read as "kids") to learn how to play. As someone who has been developing college curriculums for 20+ years I can tell you kids and young adults don't go to books to learn how to do something, they want a video or podcast (but mostly a video) and that's where they go first. If I were writing a course on how to learn D&D I'd first look at my video budget. BTW this is not a value judgement on learning, it is a different modality. I used to work with severe Learning Disability students back in the 80s that used similar modalities because they could not process information via text and they did fine this way. I know people that swear by audiobooks too and others that hate them. (I have spent much of my academic and professional career on these exact issues.)

...which I find interesting and worthy of exploration.

My son is young (he turns eight this week), but he already exhibits a lot of his father's love of gaming (duh, of course). He enjoys card games (rummy 500 is his current favorite, but he plays cribbage, poker, and a few others, including Uno, Pokemon, and Magic: the Gathering). He loves Blood Bowl (we had a BB "World Cup" tournament over the summer that was pretty epic). He just acquired Axis & Allies & Zombies for Christmas (it was the top of his Santa list). And he's been playing my old games of Dark Tower and Dungeon! since he was three and four, respectively.

[he is also interested in designing his own games, as I've blogged on a couple-three occasions]

As I write this, in the early morning hours while the rest of my family sleeps, I can see from my vantage point two board games (AA&Z and Camel Up!), completely set-up, on two different tables, where he was tinkering with both (a third table holds a recently used Yahtzee and a cribbage board, though my four-year old daughter was the one messing with the latter), and I know there's a new Star Wars Monopoly floating around somewhere (acquired from los Reyes Magos).

As far as I know, he's never read a single instruction book or manual.

In fact, while he opened the new Axis & Allies (and Zombies) himself, and set it up in its entirety, he has all but refused to read the manual, other than the parts on set-up and disposition of forces. He wants me to read the instructions and teach him how to play. And lest you think he will eventually get restless waiting on me and buckle down and read the instructions himself, I would draw your attention to the fact that he's owned Arena of the Planeswalkers since last Christmas, and has never gotten around to playing it, because no one in the house has read the instructions.

[he has used AotPW and its neat minis for other purposes, however...he's just never played the game as intended]

Now this is a child who enjoys reading...he's read the first three or four Harry Potter books, half a dozen of those Wimpy Kid books, and more than double that number of Nancy Drew mysteries (the original ones, written in the 1930s)...he's currently on the Ski Jump Mystery. And that's when he's not reading non-fiction history books, which he really loves...especially anything about World War II or ancient Egypt. He's read a lot of the Magic Treehouse books, but he prefers the dry, "Fact Finder" series that provide the historical foundation for the time travel adventures. The kid even read (an abridged) Moby Dick over a four hour road trip...that was last April; I haven't even read Melville!

But, of course, there's a difference between reading a book and a manual. A book's sole purpose is to entertain and/or inform. A manual's job is (or should be) to instruct, for the purpose of understanding how to do something...like operate a blender or maintain your car or play a board game. Some people really dig on manuals (my wife is one, and she's not a huge reader). Most of us, though, prefer only to use them minimally...as a reference when actually needed. After all, manuals are merely a means to an end, whatever that end might be (working the blender, changing the car oil, playing the game).

In asking my son how he'd like to learn a new game, his clear preference was to have me read the manual and then teach him. His second preference? Have mom read the manual and teach him. Asked if he'd rather watch a video instead of reading the instructions himself, he said "sure"...if his parents weren't available and a video was (my child isn't given ready access to the internet). Reading instruction manuals is just "really boring."

And when I really think about it, it's hard for me to find a lot of disagreement in my heart. Reading manuals are one of my least favorite methods of learning anything, even ones that include photos or illustrated examples. Even videos are a poor substitute for teaching...you can't ask questions of a video, nor ask for additional clarification when required.

I have this story in my head about role-playing games, about learning to play them from reading them, because I've read and learned so many over the years...all the way back to B/X Dungeons & Dragons (which I taught myself to play). But this hasn't been the way I've learned most of the games I know. All the card games I know how to play have been learned the same way as my boy: I've been taught them by other people. Even Magic cards (which were showed to me by a roommate back in 1999). But most of the "standard" card games I know were taught to me by my grandmother in Montana (they play a lot of card games in Montana over the long winter months): everything from rummy and hearts to cribbage and pinochle. I asked my mom to buy me Dungeon! when I was eight years old, and I'm pretty sure it was she that first read the instructions and taught me to play...as she taught me to play Scrabble, Clue, Monopoly, and (presumably) Candy Land.  I taught myself Risk, but I'd seen it played before by my teenage uncles and their friends (again, in Montana). My father taught me chess.

Even recently (three or four months back), I purchased the deck-building game Ivion only after I was taught the game in a demo with the husband of the game's designer. I know deck-building games are a "thing," but till Ivion I'd never figured out how to play any of them. I even purchased a Blood Bowl-themed deck-builder about five years ago (based on great reviews) that sits on my shelf to this day.

Of course, it's not just games I've learned from other people. Every job I've had has required on-the-job training. Sure Burger King showed me a couple 30-minute videos during my first day of orientation (as a 14 year old), but an experienced person walked me through all the ins and outs of the kitchen (and only allowed me to make the most basic of sandwiches till I'd mastered that). The 15 year career I quit to move to Paraguay required four weeks of training in Olympia before I even got a desk in the (Seattle) office, and then 11 more months of a probationary period where I was assigned a dedicated trainer who audited every single action I took for my first six months.

And around the house, I am hesitant to start ANY home improvement project unless I've done it before or consulted with someone more knowledgable than myself (like a contractor buddy or my mom's 65-year old boyfriend who's a retired Boeing engineer and ex-military). I am more likely to pay someone to do the work, not because I have money to burn (I really don't) but because I don't trust myself not to screw things up without at least some solid instruction.

[though I should say I have been much better in recent years in taking the initiative in home projects...but that wasn't the case for the first four decades of my life]

Learning from others...at least learning the basics...is the way most of us feel more comfortable learning. Probably it's a cultural thing (schools and stuff) but regardless of whether we learn best by seeing, hearing, or doing all of us want someone to teach us the various skills we want to learn. Once we've acquired knowledge of the basics, THEN we can refine our knowledge through our own exploration or experience with the subject matter (or seek coaching for more speedy or targeted improvement). But the more complex the skill we're attempting to learn...and the more consequence to failure...the more we desire the help of a teacher.

Now, of course, I have taken the time to read game manuals...many, in fact. However, in all the cases where I have "self-taught" myself something I believe there are caveats that can be attached as to why this occurred.

• In the case of some games (Axis & Allies, Camel Up!, Battleship Galaxies, Pokemon, Go Go Gelato, Lost Cities, etc.) there was a case of my children begging me to read an instruction manual in order to teach them, so that we could play a particular game. My kids have been my biggest impetus to learning new games over the last three-four years.
• In the case of some games (Firefly, Nautilus, Dragonriders of Pern), the theme or setting of the game was one I had particular interest in AND there was a significant (or possible) method of "solo play" included with the game. I have acquired other games with themes/settings that have special appeal for me (The Dark Crystal, The Call of Cthulhu Card Game, Bang!, Arctic Scavengers) that I've never bothered to learn as I have no one with whom to play.
• Some games, almost all RPGs, I've acquired for reasons of nostalgia, intriguing theme, or specific "design purposes" (i.e. to examine them for how they designed their various systems and incorporated them in the game). However, while I've "read" the manuals for most of these, I can't say that I've learned how to play them. In fact, if you asked me point blank to run most of these (including Everway, Dragonraid, Hero Wars, Privateers and Gentlemen, Blood Red Sands, or the newest Star Wars line from FFG), I would need a substantial amount of "refresher time" (probably a week or more) to re-read and absorb the material before we could have anything like a first session.
• Other games have been much more easily digested (and thus remembered/retained) because their basic "chassis" are so closely akin to another game I'm already familiar with...like, for example, Dungeons & Dragons.

Yes, Dungeons & Dragons, the game on which I base the lie that "all you need to learn a game is a good instruction manual" because, of course, I was able to learn how to play D&D without the aid of anyone teaching me. This, by the way, is absolutely true: I received my copy of the game, I read it, I introduced my friends to it, taught them (to the point that some of them would later run the game as DMs themselves, for other friends), and never looked back. Having said that...

1. The edition I first acquired was the Tom Moldvay basic set, perhaps the single greatest edition for learning the basics of "dungeons" and "dragons" ever published. Complete with multiple page-long examples of character creation, running encounters, creating adventures, and running players through the game. The included The Keep on the Borderlands adventure module also provided great notes from Gygax and examples of home bases, wilderness areas, and dungeons...and tying them all together.
2. The basic premise of basic D&D isn't all that far removed from the Dungeon! board game which, as I noted above, I had already acquired and learned (through my mother) prior to picking up my first box of Moldvay. Just the concept of a multi-level dungeon (filled with monsters, traps, and treasure) gave me a leg up on understanding the game's premise.

I probably can't overstate how much Moldvay's examples of play helped me. I read and re-read these examples many times, even after playing the game the first time. The encounter example (page B28) shows how to use the reaction table, how spells work (in and out of combat), how to conduct missile and melee combat, and how players interact with the DM and each other based on alignment (not to mention basic kibitzing during a game). The "sample dungeon expedition" (page B59 to B60) shows how the DM presents information to the players, how to clarify that information, how to present traps, how to describe features of the adventure site, how to award treasure, how to deal with character death (it happens), and how to manage a group of players...at least, a group all bent on the same objective of play. From these examples, I could look at my own DMing (at a young age) and at least get some idea of whether or not my game looked at all like the one Moldvay was playing. Everything else I learned later (adding the "Advanced" texts to our game) was built off this foundation.

If I had come to the game through some other gateway (especially the original version of the game or first edition AD&D) I can understand how a teacher would have been pretty much essential, just to prevent frustration with trying to understand the instructional text of the game. Hell, I'd be hard pressed NOW to try to parse out the D&D "instruction manual" as it is today, without my basic foundation (I've blogged before how I've literally fallen asleep every time I've attempted to read through 4th edition Champions). I can definitely see that, lacking a foundation and any teacher or mentor, I too would be left with little alternative besides combing the interwebs for some video to show exactly how I'm supposed to play this game...

I feel I've been something less than charitable to folks who "don't like to read the instructions" (even my own boy!) or who prefer watching a video to reading a manual. Instruction manuals aren't terribly fun (usually) and even when they are written in a "fun" way, it's usually somewhat less fun than the fun anticipated from the end for which they've been written (for example, playing the game the manual explains). Dungeons & Dragons especially is a hard game to learn, regardless of edition. I was simply fortunate that my introduction to the game was written for persons "Ages 10 and Up" (yes, I was reading above my age level back in 1982), and that it was written in such a particular, precise yet streamlined manner...even including a page count (64 minus illustrations, tables, and example text) that wouldn't bore the shit out of my young mind. Something to think about with regard to my own game design going forward.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a manual to read about World War II zombie invasions...

Probably everyone loses...

Back to the Mox...and WotC

There’s no easy way to say this except to say it: I played WotC’s “D&D Next” last night.

Luke, one of my former-regular players at the Baranof, is moving back to the Midwest…not immediately, but within the next couple-few weeks…and I wanted to see him before he left and my schedule is pretty swamped all July.

[in fact, I hadn’t even planned on going out last night because my father is in town and Thursday was the only day that worked with HIS schedule to get together. However, I managed to finish dinner and get the family home by 9 allowing me a couple-three hours of “out” time]

So I headed back to the Mox Café where I haven’t gamed in a loooong-ass time. And I got to see some of the old boys (and girl) and take in a little gaming. And what they were running was D&D Next, WotC’s play-test shenanigans that is supposed to magically morph into 5^th Edition.

*sigh* Where to start?

As is obvious from my posting, I did not spontaneously combust at the sight of a miniature-strewn battle map. Yes, I had fun (aka “a good time”)…though it certainly helped that I’d had a couple beers before showing up and a couple more thereafter. Was it enough fun that I’d play it again…?

*sigh* (again)… Hmmm…I’m having a hard time articulating at the moment. Maybe there isn’t a good place to “start” this “review” and I should just meander a bit. Yeah, let’s do that.

I actually signed up to be part of the D&D Next play-test a while back and was receiving regular email updates, though I haven’t for a few months now. Probably because I chose to “unsubscribe” and report WotC as “spam” in my gmail account. I just wasn’t very impressed with what they were doing. Duh…that’s why I decided to do the whole D&D Mine thing and why I wrote 5AK.

So because I haven’t “kept my hand in” with D&D Next, much of this was new to me. Well, “new” is probably not the most accurate term…but I’ll get to that in a moment. This was definitely my first opportunity to actually play-test DDN in any capacity…and my first time playing any WotC version of D&D since…well, probably since before 2005 (in all honesty, I don’t remember).

Ugh. I AM having a hard time with this. I’m trying to sum up the “gist” of the game in a couple sentences, in order to give my overall impression, after which I would write my usual “elaboration” but there are simply too many pithy phrases coming to mind. I guess I can just list them (in no particular order):

-        It’s a board game.

-        It’s less frustrating than DCC.

-        It’s D&D3 light.

-        Magic-users shoot lasers.

-        It’s the newly revised Revised Chainmail.

-        It’s not an RPG.

-        It’s a hot mess.

(note that any of these phrases could include the words “kind of” after the word “it’s” but I’m trying to be less wishy-washy in my prose)

Okay, let me describe the game play first; then I’ll talk about my thoughts on the thing.

Dan was acting as DM. It was a good sized group: six players, including myself. There was a halfling rogue (natch), an elven ranger, a human cleric, a wizard, and a paladin. I played a 2^nd level dwarf fighter that was handed to me (someone else’s PC from the week prior). The characters appear to have been pre-gens created by the DDN people as I received a 1^st level print-out that broke down how all my PC’s traits and feats worked, but then I also received a (hand-written) character sheet that included changes from prior adventures (including those from “leveling up”).

The adventure (which I entered in media res) was a large subterranean complex, the center of which was a svirfneblin (deep gnome) city that had apparently fallen on hard times. Us surface-worlders were down there looking for jobs and adventure and had several possible mission options. When I arrived at the table (late), I found the five already-present PCs having their asses handed to them by a pack of five orcs. Once I entered, we quickly mopped up (more on combat later) and looted the bodies for something like 12 silver pieces each (I contemptuously allowed the other party members to divvy my share amongst themselves…what the hell was 12sp to me? My character sheet said I was a “noble” and/or “knight”).

After healing ourselves nearly to full power using a short rest, the party decided to retreat back to (gnome) town…the reason being that we were running “low on spells.” After a long rest (these are technical terms with specific game mechanics) we* decided to enter the largest, most dangerous looking cavern on the board, to retrieve a lost gnomish crown for the local strongman/honcho type looking to legitimize his rule.

[*in this case “we” is more of the “royal we,” if you know what I mean]

The party encountered two zombie orcs that weren’t nearly as tough as the earlier live ones, and we quickly put them down. At that point, the group called it a night. From what I gathered, there had been an earlier confrontation with stirges that I had missed (and that the PCs found easy) and one with kobolds (also easy thanks to a “sleep” spell), but I’m not sure if those took place in the same game session (before I showed up) or in the week prior.

OKAY…so that’s what HAPPENED in the session which (if you’ll notice) isn’t a whole lot for two hours of game play (the length of time I was there). Half a fight against less than half a dozen orcs. Some recuperation. A (short) deliberation on objectives. A 2^nd (extremely short) fight. Fini.

There was precious little that could be called “role-playing” that occurred at the table. The players had formed a definite opinion of their gnome warden employer (in short: “a dick, and we should try to double-cross him”), which I presumed was from previous interaction. Some inane war cries were bandied about in combat (that was my contribution). And…um…fini.

What the game really boiled down to was a table-top, skirmish level (i.e. small scale) combat game that has a context (i.e. “setting”) and a number of different and variable options for use in combat. In many ways, it’s no different from a small scale version of World of Warcraft, save that it’s turn based rather than real time (i.e. you can consider your actions without a velociraptor beating on you), and it involves moving miniatures on a board instead of pixels on a screen.

The rules were simple enough that it took me almost no time at all to jump in to the action. It’s just a “lite” version of DND3 with respect to movement and tactical maneuvering…and the whole thing about opportunity attacks and threatened areas are a “no-brainer” to an old hand at Blood Bowl with its movement and “tackle zones.” In fact, I don’t know why they bother giving movement and ranges in feet at all when the scale is always 5’ squares. Why not just say that my dwarf “moves five” and can throw his axe “four” (or 12 with a penalty)? Why bother saying the wizard’s laser blast is 30’ when you can just say “six” (i.e. “six squares”)?

Are the designers afraid that will make the game sound less “role-playey” and more like a board game? Um, designers? This IS a board game.

My PC had as much character as a playing piece in the Dungeon! boardgame…he just had more options on what to do. Julie, playing the elf ranger bless her heart, did NOTHING in the game except wait for her turn to come up in initiative order, at which time she’d roll a D20 to hit and (if successful) roll damage. That’s it. Oh, she used her “hunter’s mark” power as a swift action to give herself a bonus once or twice, but otherwise she exercised no creativity, contributed nothing to the imaginary game world …simply chose a target and rolled a D20 and then damage or not. When her turn came up. Once per round.

I didn’t take the time to ask her (and wouldn’t have wanted to look like a prat anyway), but I wanted to shout: “Is this fun? Are you really having fun? Are you getting anything out of this? And if so, what?”

There were some neat effects in the game that were still kind of dumb. The orcs had a racial trait called “relentless” that allowed them to continue attacking (and making opportunity attacks) one round after being mortally wounded. It’s kind of dumb simply because there seemed to be no rules for “over-killing” the creatures…if I mortally wound the orc and my three comrades continue to attack him, hacking off his arms and head, should it really be allowed an additional attack “just because?” If you want a tougher orc, why not just give it an extra wound…er…hit die…er…(sorry, I’m using terms from my own game which don’t really apply to DDN)…er, more hit points? I don’t really get it…in my opinion it would be a cooler trait for a PC than for a monster.

Rules-wise the game was very basic and very light-weight (though not in comparison to, say, B/X) Tactically, it’s simply about maneuvering efficiently through tackle zones and then “pulling the correct trigger” when it comes to your special abilities. The other players were dithering about what to do with the zombies shuffling towards us. I pointed out they were too slow to actually reach us so long as we kept moving and using ranged attacks. If this is D&D, then it’s “no-brainer” D&D.

And that’s why…even though it was fun and I had a good time and it was less frustrating (system-wise) than DCC…given a choice between playing D&D Next again and playing pretty much anything else, I’d probably pick the “else.” Probably. If it was another board game that had a high set-up time, maybe not. If it was an uber-crunchy RPG (like Champions) requiring hours of prep, probably not.

Then again, if my option was between D&D Next and Champions I’d probably opt to stay home…or watch a sporting event in the bar instead.

None of which, by the way, should be construed as a negative reflection on the players at the table. Most of my fun was in interacting and playing with the people around me. I singled out Julie not to point out Julie as a “bad role-player” or “boring person” but as an example of how the game does nothing to encourage role-playing…or anything…besides waiting for your turn. Other players had the same lack of “stuff going on.” Luke was doing the same thing with his thief…waiting for his turn to come so that he could roll a D20. He was in melee however (unlike the ranger) so had the extra “stuff” happening of taking damage every round. At least the wizard tactically (and cowardly) removed himself from combat when he felt he’d taken too much damage from orc arrows.

Of the group, the cleric, paladin, and fighter exhibited the most in-game effectiveness: the cleric had a variety of different effects he could do (both with spells and divine channeling), the paladin had group healing spells in addition to being a rock-hard bulwark, and the dwarf dealt a good deal of extra damage (which he was allowed to do because of his shit-ton of hit points). But the EFFECTIVENESS (or lack thereof) doesn’t mean the GAME was any more or less INTERESTING. Trying to puzzle out a sphinx’s riddle or figure out an alternative method of defeating a magical monster (that is immune to normal weapons)…these are interesting challenges. I don’t find it challenging to figure out how best to overcome a few beasties in a tactical skirmish. That’s nothing more than a jazzed up version of Space Hulk.

Now, I also said the game was a bit of a “hot mess.” What I mean is…well, it is in the play-testing stage still, but it feels like there’s been very little direction or over-sight to the design process.  Like either the designers don’t understand what they’re trying to build, or else they know but they’re so focused on minutia processes that they’re missing the Big Picture view. They’ve got a grab-bag of stuff from 1^st and 3^rd and 4^th edition, and they’re trying to blend it and patch it and update it with a “twist” and yet streamline it at the same time. If there’s a head designer he’s got ADD or he’s completely out of his element. If there are multiple designers they may not be on the same page. If this game is being designed mainly from fan feedback through the DDN play-test process that would explain a lot…but explaining it doesn’t EXCUSE it.

All right, this is long enough. Pretty meandering and not very articulate, as I predicted…but I’ve got a lot of mixed feelings on the whole thing. Allow me to wax positive for a moment: hot mess or not, it’s NOT an un-fun game. It’s just not a role-playing game and it doesn’t feel much like “Dungeons & Dragons” to me (probably because it’s not really a role-playing game). It has the tropes of D&D…dwarves and elves and fighters and clerics and armor class and saves…but it doesn’t play like D&D. It plays like a souped-up boardgame. Which is a lot less than I had expected of this project.

Still, I was glad I bothered to go. It was nice to see "how the other side games" and the group was a very good one…tight, friendly, witty, and welcoming. They had a cool group dynamic, everyone got along well, and none of the ribbing was mean-spirited. Luke asked (as we were packing up) if I’d gotten enough for a “scathing blog review” and I suppose there IS a lot of negativity on display here. But I had a good time and it’s hard to be too scathing when such is the case.

: )

3 Stages of Exploration (Part 2)

[continued from here]

If Arneson and Co. had kept the game as the equivalent of a “board game without a board” – i.e. if they had never taken the party out of the dungeon – this would probably be a non-issue. Of course, your game would simply be an over-complex version of those board games I listed earlier (and in many ways, isn’t that what D&D 4E is?), with simple game-type game-play:

1) Create character
2) Enter dungeon
3) Face challenges
4) Receive rewards
5) Grow in power
6) Return to #2 above

It would still be a powerful tool of the imagination…and continues to be for those Old Schoolers that are loosey-goosey with the rules but who limit themselves to Basic (Stage 1) Exploration. But when so limited you're still not talking about much more than a board-less board game (and if you’re using a “battle mat” you actually DO have a board).

[and, yes, if it seems from this that I’m not quite as impressed/enthusiastic about mega-dungeons and products like DCC and books like the Dungeon Alphabet as other Old School bloggers: yes, you are correct. As far as I’m concerned, these are “neat” (sometimes) but they’re still "playing small," in my opinion]

Arneson and Company, however, did NOT remain in the dungeon, instead taking their adventuring party ‘on the road’ and moving through the full-on wilderness…they started in the playpen and moved to the sandbox, if you will. And by doing this, they took their game to a whole new level of juicy; a level most long-time role-players dig much more than the simple site-based encounter map. “Depth added” is the phrase I think of when you start to meander off-the-reservation (i.e. “out of the dungeon”), and from there it’s only a short-step to move from Stage 2 to Stage 3…all it takes is a little PROactive stance from the players (‘what do YOU want to do to impact the world?’), rather than a REactive stance. And it is in these Expert and Master stages that the game really starts to shine, providing entertainment value not found in most board games (video games, like World of Warcraft or Morrowind or Fable can do Stage 2 to a certain degree, but Stage 3 has only appeared very feebly on the vid screen, and always as a part of a fairly rigid story line, programmed with very little customization possible).

Unfortunately, while the type of exploration changes at these later Stages, the rules of the game (i.e. the designed SYSTEM of D&D) does NOT change. You’re doing the same thing (collecting XP for monster kills and treasure found) that you did during your dungeon delve (Stage 1) phase, because that’s how the game play “works.” And the PROBLEM with this is that while the paradigm works fine for Stage 1 (the game systems and reward mechanics were developed specifically for Stage 1), when Stages 2 and 3 developed ORGANICALLY as a part of game play (as opposed to PURPOSEFULLY as part of game design), the Beloved Founders failed to account for them or do much of anything about ‘em other than tack on some extra rules that, sorry Founders, feel more like afterthoughts than anything else.

[At this point I want to take the time to note this is an area where Frank Mentzer deserves a heap of praise for his attempt at designing mechanics for Stage 3 play in his Companion, Master, and Immortal rule books. He was really the first and last to do so (well, until my own modest B/X Companion) and he deserves kudos for the effort. Sure there are a lot of missteps and his books are mostly Big Monsters, Big Treasures, and Big Spells…but he was attempting to work within the confines of the D&D rules. He ALSO gave us: dominion rules, simplified mass combat, travelling vs. settled class options, demihuman crafts, quests for immortality, siege engines, tourney and holiday rules…all things used and needed for Stage 3 play. To folks who’ve never been involved in Stage 3 exploration, these things might seem pretty superfluous…but that can be chalked up to a failure to adequately explain how to use all this stuff (though I daresay Frank was head-and-shoulders above Gygax and Arneson, not that that’s saying much!).]

If you were playing AD&D or OD&D or B/X “above level 14” and you started getting into Stage 3 exploration (as my friends and I did, after several years of Stage 1 and 2 play), you were left with a serious dilemma: how the hell did you run a game? How did you gauge (i.e. reward) success? Why are we even worried about killing trolls that have been waylaying travelers on the Eastern Road when we can just send a squad of troops armed with oil and flame? It’s not like there isn’t plenty of gold in the stronghold treasury!

The more you bring your characters out of the Basic Stage…what is accurately referred to as the “Basic Game”…of delving dungeons, the more interesting your characters (and their actions) start to become. And the more interesting the characters are, the more interested you are in playing the game (whether as a DM or PC). At least, that was the way it was for MY friends and I. And no, I don’t think we were “playing the game wrong” or “drifted.” We were playing the game as it is naturally designed to evolve…from dungeon, to wilderness, to court.

Look at the spell lists: low level spells include standard “dungeon help” like floating disk and light and find traps. But when you start hitting mid-level (5th) and getting access to spells of 3rd and 4th level you start seeing spells like fly and fireball…spells more properly of use in an outdoor setting (or outright dangerous within a subterranean environment). Sure, you might encounter a wide open cavern where ice storm would be effective, but control weather? Massmorph? Come on!

And later, high level spells like enchant item or cacodaemon aren’t anything you’d use “on the road” in the wilderness…you’d prefer to have a well protected sanctum for such mighty magics. Many high level spells are only designed to be used with a “home base:” here I’m thinking of spells like guards & wards or word of recall or any type of magic that has a long recovery time, like raise dead.

It’s not all about exploring dungeons despite the OSR tag line “we explore dungeons, not characters.” Character classes like the paladin and the druid come about AFTER the first DMs brought their characters out of the dungeon. How are you going to get that war horse down the steps? And all those characters with guilds or level advancement fights (assassins, monks, druids) are all interacting with the politics of the imaginary game world. You want the power of the highest level? You have to be willing to take on the responsibility of the Hierarch or Grandfather or whatever.

D&D thus has multiple stages of exploration. Unfortunately, these stages were not PURPOSEFULLY DESIGNED...and because of their organic evolution from game play they feel (hell, they ARE) POORLY DESIGNED. That’s the goddamn point.

And you know what? This is something many of us are already aware of but just haven’t been able to grok. My rantings about one part of D&D or another tends to come from this particular bit. Why are assassins such a neat idea in theory but so godawful crappy in practice? Because they’re a class best suited for Stage 3 exploration and most often forced to slog through Stage 1 and Stage 2.

Is it any wonder that (starting with 2nd Edition AD&D) the designers starting editing out all the extraneous stuff that didn’t seem to fit with Stage 1 or 2? Stage 1 is the Basic Game, and the Basic Game is easy enough to do, even with a system as complicated as New D&D (i.e. 3rd Edition plus). Stage 2 can be handled as easily as Stage 1…IF the DM takes a heavy hand, and treats the world like one big dungeon. You know what I mean? A dungeon has a bunch of numbered encounter sites laid out on the map. Managing Stage 2 like Stage 1 is just a matter of laying out numbered encounters on a larger map (with each number representing a smaller dungeon or lair…i.e. a Hazard Site).

Of course, when New D&D (and remember, I’m not talking “New School,” I’m talking post-2000 editions) start to do this, they start losing that which makes the game interesting (or which made the game interesting for us early players), namely the fusing of imagination with a simple system to allow us a deeper role-playing experience. To make up for this (and again, I don’t think this was done purposefully so much as with the desire to make the game “more fun” not realizing what had been lost)…to MAKE UP FOR THIS, the designers of New D&D made the character creation and development mechanics more intricate, interesting, and involved. Feats, skills, ability adjustments, multi-classing, racial favored classes, synthesis bonuses, prestige classes, etc. They took out the “imagination added” part and gave you their own imagination…i.e. their own nice and neat and fancy house rules.

[to be continued]

Friday Morning Assessment

Yesterday wasn't nearly as productive as I'd hoped it would be...it is a constant surprise to me how distracting a beautiful baby can be, especially as I grow to love him more every day.

However, I got several more pages written (page count is now officially at 26 of 64), including much of the "gear" chapter (including all cybernetic enhancements and weapons) and a page of combat rules. Once I add the actual equipment and combat tables (currently residing in Excel format) the page count will probably spike another 2 or 3.

ALSO, finally figured out how I want full-auto fire to work in the game. Unlike the space opera game, resource management IS a small part of the new book, harkening back to it's D&D roots. However, I needed to make ammo counting as simple as possible.

In addition to writing, managed to FINALLY pick up a used copy of 1st edition Shadowrun down at Gary's...I now have 1st through 3rd edition. And you know what? The 1st edition book is more impressive than I remember. For a 1st edition game, it is surprisingly complete, well laid out, thoughtful, and (wow!) beautifully illustrated. It is also MUCH MORE "D&D cyberpunk" than the later books...really dark fantasy stuff. There's not a whole lot of attempt to shoehorn every metahuman critter as being a different strain of the HMHVV virus, for example. Ghouls are just ghouls, man!

It's still a bit more fiddly than I'd like, even as it tries to be generic. And it screws up its own math in the character archetypes. But all in all, this was an excellent game. I've written too much of my own not to finish it now (I think...plus, it's coming out pretty fast)...but as I said before, if you have the 1st edition rules and 1st edition Grimoire, Samurai Catalogue, and Sprawl Sites, you really have a fine game on your hands. Maybe the Seattle Source Book for flavor, though it's a little out-o-date (the Sonics are still playing here? Did the NBA award us a new franchise? What about the stupid, deep bore tunnel we're going to be payig off for 20 years?).

Oh, yeah...I also made it down to the Baranof where I played a round of 4th Edition Light in the form of the WotC board game Wrath of Ashadalorn (or something). For a board game it was pretty, "meh." In many ways it reminded me of the superior Siege of the Citadel, crossed with DungeonQuest; however, with everyone playing "against the board" it was a fairly one-sided (i.e. "too easy") game...I was trying to maneuver monsters to kill the other players just to spice the thing up, but with multiple "healing surges" (and healing abilities) there really wasn't a chance of "losing."

Mostly the game consisted of drawing cards in the correct order and following instructions. Hell, one could probably just write a D100 table for each card deck and roll percentile dice, in order, every round.

However, I will say the plastic figurines were fantastic...I wanted to pocket a cave bear and take it home for painting (I did not, though). And I REALLY wanted to see the otyugh or dragon come out of the monster deck (they did not). I was confused by the creature that looked like a Michael Moorcock "Hunting Dog of Dharzi;" what the heck was that supposed to be?

Luke assures me WoA bears only a passing similarity to 4E. Well, it bears a passing similarity to real D&D, too (otyughs and duergar)...however, it's pretty "meh." I'll stick with my own game, thank you...maybe try to get a set of the plastic figures off eBay or something.

; )