B is for Books

[over the course of the month of April, I shall be posting a topic for each letter of the alphabet, sequentially, every day of the week except Sunday. Our topic for the month is Advanced Dungeons & Dragons: how to approach it, how to run it, how to enjoy a system that deserves to be played NOW, nearly 50 years after its inception. Consider this a 'crash course' in the subject]

B is for Books...specifically the books you need to run the game.

AD&D is a game and, as with any game, it has instructions that explain how to play. Yes, I'm sure that seems elementary, but you'd be amazed to see how many people post on Reddit the question "how do I learn to play Dungeons & Dragons?"

How indeed.

If you've played D&D before...any version of it...you can probably jump right in to the core instruction manuals (we'll get to those in a moment). If you know nothing (or next to nothing) about the game, I strongly suggest picking up a copy of the D&D Basic Set Rulebook (a 64-page manual penned by Tom Moldvay, available in PDF form for $4.99) and read that first. It is a quick read and excellent overview of the basic principles of the D&D game with entertaining (and fairly spot on) examples of game play. Reading this first will give you a basic lexicon for understanding the Advanced version of the game.

Okay...you have the basics under your belt? Let's get to it.

To play AD&D you need a total of THREE books, although I use (and generally recommend) five. The core instruction manuals are:

The Players Handbook

The Dungeon Masters Guide

The Monster Manual

Armed with these three books, you can play AD&D for literal YEARS. Possibly decades. All the instructions you need are included in these books.  Each is available in both print and PDF form, and while the PDFs will only cost you $9.99 each, I'd save up for the hardcovers...you'll want them for use at the table. Electronic devices can be terribly distracting.

The other (optional) two books I suggest purchasing are:

The Fiend Folio

The Monster Manual II

These additional tomes are bestiaries, like the Monster Manual, providing additional monsters for your campaign, many of which are strange, horrific, or extra-planar in nature. The MMII, especially, contains many monsters first presented in "classic" TSR adventure modules, as well as a number of "normal sized" critters (when you want stats for a rattlesnake instead of a GIANT rattlesnake). Both of these books provide expanded random encounter tables that include the new inventory, and the MMII has several additional tables (including expanded ability scores) which render the need for books like Deities & Demigods/Legends & Lore obsolete.

[the procedure given for the dracolisk's gaze attack in MMII can also be useful for other gaze attack monsters, like the medusa and basilisk of the original Monster Manual]

There are many other books published for AD&D, including the aforementioned DDG/LL (the same book, just published twice under different titles), the Unearthed Arcana, Oriental Adventures, the Manual of the Planes, the Dungeoneer's Survival Guide, and the Wilderness Survival Guide. None of these are necessary to play AD&D, most have few new rules or procedures, and many of these new rules/procedures are decidedly detrimental/harmful to the game if adopted. When preparing to run your AD&D game, I would steer well clear of these, only picking them up later as curiosities to (occasionally) mine for idea.

Of the "core books," you should begin with the PHB. It describes the basics of character creation and provides all the information a player might need to know. I mean that quite literally. You will not find (for example) combat tables or saving throw matrices in the PHB, but in actual play these target numbers are generally given by the Dungeon Master. On the other hand, players need to be aware of their own skill percentages (for thieves) or casting times (for spell users) in order to make informed choices regarding actions...these you WILL find in the PHB, along with descriptions of each class and race's capabilities.

Read the PHB up to the beginning of the magic section (page 43), and then read the introduction to each of the four spell casting types (cleric, druid, magic-user, and illusionist). Glance through the various spells, but do not bother reading them in total at this point...instead skip to the section SPELL CASTING (on page 100) and continue from there, all the way to the appendices. Pay especial note to the SUCCESSFUL ADVENTURES section (pages 107-109) which is essential reading for all perspective players and which negates the need for any so-called "Session Zero."

There are five appendices in the PHB, only three of which are very useful: these would be Appendix I (Psionics), Appendix II (Bards), and Appendix IV (Known Planes of Existence). While these are technically "optional" (it is an individual DM's purview whether or not they are acceptable to the game), the AD&D game assumes their presence...many iconic monsters will be lesser threats without Psionics, and if your game lacks interplanar excursions, you might as well be playing Basic D&D. As for bards, I find the class in this form to be a quite entertaining and useful addition to the classes already presented. That being said, all three of these things are best incorporated AFTER your game has been up-and-running for a few months.

Individual spells will be read and studied as needed.

Having absorbed the information in the PHB, you can now begin your study of the DMG, perhaps pausing first to browse the various creatures of the Monster Manual (it doesn't help to read about the challenges of employing a lizard man or the structural damage inflicted by a stone giant if you are unfamiliar with these creatures). You should immediate note several important things about the DMG:

1. The DMG is structured so that its sections parallel the PHB...they are meant to be read side-by-side, in tandem, with the DMG elaborating on the information already presented.
2. The DMG contains an extensive index that is applicable to both the PHB and the DMG (DMG references are always listed first, in boldface). This index will be a lifesaver when it comes to learning the system...and in actual play...until you've become familiar with where all the various bits and bobs are located in the books.
3. The DMG contains a detailed glossary that provides definitions of many of the author's obscure references and abbreviations, not to mention specific game terms. This, too, is an invaluable aid in learning the system.

Much of what you will find in the DMG should feel very similar to the systems you're already familiar with (either from reading the Basic D&D rulebook, or from delving into other editions of the game). Much of the information within the DMG will only become truly useful as your game develops over time: you will not need information on hiring armies, building castles, and traveling to other planes when you first start your AD&D game...and God help your players if you feel the need to break out the disease and parasitic infection charts right from the get-go!

What you WILL need to run your AD&D game are the following:

• a comprehensive view of character creation (pages 11-13). Pick ONE method of generating ability scores (I've found Method I is simplest and yields the best results), and pay attention to height & weight (tables actually given on page 102) and age. You might also want to read Gygax's essay on page 21 to forestall players wanting "odd" characters of the kind found in later editions of D&D
• a full understanding of armor as it relates to encumbrance, movement, and combat (pages 27-28)
• an understanding of TIME in the game (pages 37-38)
• acquisition, recovery, and casting of spells (pages 38-40); as with the PHB, spell explanations (elaborations on certain PHB spells) will be reviewed as needed
• certain dungeon procedures related to sight and hearing (pages 59-60)
• comprehensive understanding of COMBAT procedures (pages 61-82); skip the insanity parts
• comprehensive understanding of EXPERIENCE procedures (pages 84-86); while not explicit in the DMG, I STRONGLY recommend dividing treasure x.p. evenly between surviving party members, as outlined in Moldvay.
• you should read with serious attention Gygax's notes on the CAMPAIGN (pages 86-100). Of special note are his essays on monster placement (pages 90-91), treasure placement (91-93), first dungeon adventure (96), dungeon procedures with regard to traps and doors (97), and the example of play (pages 97-100). 
• a good understanding of how to run NPCs, including monsters, as given in pages 102-105. Pay attention to prices given for NPC spell-casters (103-104), as this will be your guideline for players who want to pay for healing or curse removal.
• a solid understanding of the USE OF MAGIC ITEMS (page 115); please note that this section also contains very important information on energy (level) draining monsters.
• a 100% understanding of how to read the magic item tables that begin on page 121, especially the difference between experience point value and GP sale value (please also review the notes that follow the scroll table, and the asterisked note that follows the rods, staves, and wands table). Each specific section of the magic items gives an overview of its particular category (potions, rings, armor, etc.) and these overviews should be studied and understood. Individual magic item descriptions can be reviewed as needed.

Following this we come to the various appendices of the DMG which, as with the PHB, should be considered mostly optional. Yes, even the wandering monster charts are only guidelines...DMs can (and probably should) create their own random encounter charts based on their personal setting and design; however, these are good places to start.  There are a total of 16 appendices in the DMG (depending on the printing you have...the first printing only included 14, excluding Appendix O and Appendix P). Of these, the ones you will find most immediately useful include:

• Appendix C (random monster encounter charts)...for wandering monster procedures
• Appendix E (alphabetical monster listing)...for experience point value of Monster Manual creatures
• Appendix O (encumbrance of standard items)...the text herein is extremely useful, in addition to the table itself

Everything else is only incidentally helpful and/or useful, with much of it being simply inspirational.  The oft cited Appendix N, for example, provides stories and books that allow one to see the genesis of the various ideas and concepts found in AD&D, but will tell you nothing about how to run the game. For a far better insight into the author's vision (and, in my experience, how the game can look in play) I'd suggest reading Gygax's own novels Greyhawk: Saga of Old City and (more importantly) Greyhawk: Artifact of Evil. Neither fall into the category of "quality literature," but...as stated in the previous post...Dungeons & Dragons is not a 'storytelling' game.

How I Run (AD&D) Combat

Two different folks asked me (on a recent post) to describe how I run combat using the AD&D system. The short answer is: "mostly By The Book." What follows is an elaboration of my standard operating practice, whether I'm running for two players (my kids, for example) or 8+ (such as my sessions at Cauldron last October).

It all works the same.

First, you have to approach combat...and the AD&D game...with the proper mindset. Understand that it's meant to be fast and furious; understand that it's meant to be abstract. Above all, understand that while combat is a Very Important Part of play, it is only part of the game...only part of the adventure.

Give combat the respect that it's due...and nothing more.

The procedures provided in the instructional text are there to serve play, not vice versa. Some things are, or should be, obvious...and the edgecase rules that exist are there to cover possibilities and provide a means of dealing with any particularities more complex than the back-and-forth of two swordsmen whacking away at each other. Again: the procedures SERVE play, not the other way around. Trying to fit your play into a checkbox paradigm of if-then-what-next is missing the point.

Next (now that you, hopefully, have the right mindset), combat ALWAYS starts with the situation. As Dungeon Master, you have to understand, and be able to visualize, the circumstances of the battle about to commence. Not only must you be able to visualize it in your own mind, you must be able to explain your vision to the players, such that they can react accordingly to the situation. These days, I always carry a few miniatures for the players to represent positioning in the imaginary "battle space;" back in my youth, if I had an especially complex situation to describe, I'd do a quick sketch to help my players visualize what was going on.

But that's in a second...first, you need to check for surprise.

As in real life, surprise can be decisive and game-changing with regard to combat situations. Understanding surprise in AD&D is pretty darn essential...fortunately, it's pretty straightforward. Each side gets their BEST chance to surprise (and be surprised) which, on occasion, may mean no surprise is possible (again, this is why understanding the situational situation needs to come first). Otherwise, multiple surprise segments may occur. These days, I only worry about partial (1 segment) or complete (2 segment) surprise...I honestly can't remember if I used to award 3+ segments of surprise back in the days of my youth, but currently, I'm okay with two segments being the maximum. In my opinion, 12 seconds is plenty of time to recover your wits, unless you happen to be REALLY slow, wit-wise (i.e. a cleric with a DEX <6).

Once surprise has been dealt with, we move onto combat proper.

DECLARATION OF ACTIONS...this is the first thing we do after I've outlined/described the tactical situation to the players. I go around the table and address each player, asking what they want their character to do. Order is usually determined by relative positioning and situational awareness. Ask the guys in the front rank what they're doing first, then  the secondary row guys, etc. If one character kicked in the door to a room and stumbles into a pack of wights (or whatever), for sure I want THAT person's declaration first and foremost.

Declarations of action are kept snappy. No dithering, hemming or hawing. In a situation where players actually get the drop (i.e. surprise) on an opponent, I'm a tad more lenient with declarations, especially in instances of complete surprise (PCs may well have the luxury of a whispered conference prior to taking action). My players generally have an idea of their particular "order of battle" anyway as...long before any actual encounter...I've established things like marching order, who's carrying what in their hands (weapons, shields, light sources, etc.). Sharp players will, of course, have planned out some battle tactics in advance, otherwise things are likely to devolve into a chaotic free-for-all.

Which is fine. There's verisimilitude in that. 

After getting their asses handed to them once or twice, they'll start to figure things out, and go into situations better prepared. And that's fine, too...again, this is true to life. These are not well-drilled U.S Marines with extensive training in CQB...they're hardy adventurers working their way through dark and dank tunnels (or deep dark forests or mountain passes or well-lit castles or whatever), sword-and-torch in hand.  A lot of players are used to smaller tables...three to five PCs...and large groups (such as one finds in convention games) can take some adjustment for the players, especially those who haven't worked together before. And, again, That's Okay. Combat is only part of the adventuring process.

SO...declarations. Players who dither or are overwhelmed (or just cautious) are passed over for the players who are more decisive. And this is FINE. Often, the player who's unsure what action to take is a spell-caster who's considering the proper spell for the situation...and he/she can fall back behind the rest of the gang, while considering. Again: this is verisimilitude.  There's no need to go off half-cocked...maybe the rest of the party will take care of the bugbears withOUT the need for that web spell to get cast. And that's fortunate and saves resources for later...yay!

ALSO...no, I do not require players to write down their "orders" separately from each other. In a combat situation, I assume the players are actively communicating with each other (yelling "cast the fireball!" or "loose arrows!" or "set spears!" or whatever) even as some PCs' actions...notably charging...requires not much communication at all.

As for the opponents' actions, I (as DM) already have an idea of what they're going to do in that first round, based on their temperament, their capabilities, their numbers relative to the party, etc. Again, this is based on comprehending the SITUATION. After the first round, the situation will have changed, and the actions/reactions of the opponents will have changed as well...for me, situation determines how the NPCs are going to act. It's not about an optimal "Tucker's kobolds" screw-the-players approach to battle, it's about verisimilitude. Humanoids armed with spears are not going to throw their only weapon, unless they plan on running/escaping afterwards. Animals are unlikely to fight to the death (or fight large numbers  at all) unless defending their lair/young. Etc. 

Back to procedure. So we've got a declaration of actions from the players. Great. Now we dice for initiative. Depending on actions chosen by players, I ask one player to roll for the party, choosing the person whose declared action is most immediate and/or most likely to be affected by the outcome of the initiative dice. For example, when facing undead, if a cleric is going to attempt to turn the creatures, I'll usually let the cleric roll the initiative die for the party. Why? Because the result might well mitigate or eliminate the entire threat the group faces.

Now let's talk segments and spell-casters. When a caster declares they're casting a spell in combat, the number on the initiative die is going to be important, due to casting time and the chance of being interrupted by an opponent.  Magic-users are the most likely to cast a spell in combat given A) they're the most likely to feel "useless" outside of their spells, and B) players have a tendency to stockpile offensive magic. Fortunately, most MU spells have a casting time equal to the level of the spell (1 segment for 1st level spells like magic missile and sleep, 2 segments for second level spells like stinking cloud and web, 3 segments for 3rd level spells like fireball and lightning bolt, etc.) which is easy to remember, and outlier spells...well, with time and practice you remember that some spells (strength, for example) have a longer casting time than expected. Other than command, most clerical spells take a LOT longer to cast...hold person, that combat staple, takes 5 segments, despite being a 2nd level spell. Again, there are so few clerical spells that are useful in combat (compared to the magic-user) that you get to know the casting times after a few repetitions.

When a player wants to cast a spell, I always ask the casting time, and I'll usually have the casting player roll for initiative telling them "okay, so you need to win by x number or else you have a chance of your spell being interrupted" (assuming that there is an opponent targeting the spell-caster). FOR EXAMPLE:

Tim declares he's going to cast fireball on the bugbears who are gearing up to charge. I note that the bugbears are 30' away from the party and can easily reach the PCs, although it will take two segments to do so (as they only move 18' per segment). I thus say: "Okay, Tim, roll for initiative; if you win by 3 or more, your spell goes off before they arrive; if you win by 2 they get to attack you AND the spell goes off. If you only win by 1 they'll have a chance to hit you and interrupt the spell before you cast it."

Thus knowing the stakes, Tim and I roll initiative with everyone hanging on the results of the die rolls.

But what if Tm the wizard was facing a squad of plate-armored goons (movement: 6")? And what if they were 40' away, not 30'? It would thus take four segments (at 12' per segment) for the goons to get to Tim...how is this resolved?

Well, for me, it goes like this:

• Tim wins initiative by 3 or more: Tim's spell will go off before chargers get to Tim.
• Tim wins initiative by 2: Tim's spell and the charge attack are SIMULTANEOUS (spell goes off, even if the attack hits); with the EXCEPTION of and initiative roll of 3-1, in which case Tim's spell would go off before the goons arrived (since they need four segments to get to Tim). 
• Tim wins initiative by 1: the chargers arrive first and the spell can be interrupted; with the EXCEPTION of an initiative roll of 2-1, in which case Tim's spell goes off before the goons arrive, or a 3-2, in which case the spell and charge are SIMULTANEOUS.
• Initiative results are TIED: while it's subject to debate, I'd probably rule that a 1-1 allows Tim to get his spell off first, a 2-2 results in actual simultaneous actions (spell goes off AND chargers attack) and any other result allows the chargers to strike first, possibly interrupting the spell.
• If Tim LOSES initiative, the goons are probably going to get to him before he can cast his spell. However, if he only loses by a roll of 2-1 (DM gets a "2;" Tim gets a "1"), then the spell and the charge are going to happen SIMULTANEOUSLY. Why? Because the spell will complete on segment #4, and the goons won't arrive till then. 

[please note: for ME, the first segment of action counts as the first segment of casting time. So if the spell caster commences a 3-segment spell on segment #2, the spell will be completed on segment #4]

But here's what I'd ACTUALLY say to Tim:

"Okay, Tim, roll for initiative; if you win by 3 or more your spell goes off before they arrive; if you win by only 2, then their attack happens simultaneously with your casting and if you lose or beat them by only 1, they'll have a chance to interrupt your spell. However, it's going to take them four segments to cover the distance, so depending on what the actual die roll is, you might get a break...let's roll and we'll figure it out afterwards. Just know you want to beat them by as much as possible."

There's only about 6 chances in 36 of getting one of those "odd results;" 30 times out of 36, the initiative dice are going to come up with a number that's easy to adjudicate...I'm be beating Tim nearly 50% of the time just by rolling higher than him. In all likelihood, there'll be no need to work out the math ahead of time, and if it's close and the dice rolls are low (knowing that it takes the goons 4 segments to cross the distance), I'll be able to eyeball it pretty accurately.

Now if the distance were greater than 40' or if Tim were using a faster spell (say, magic missile with its 1 segment casting time), it might well be possible that the DM (me) could WIN initiative, and the spell would STILL go off before the charge arrived. In this case, the spell is not much different than missile fire which, for me, will usually occur BEFORE a charging combatant can come to grips with their foe...depending on the type of missile weapon being used.

[for the record, devices like wands and staves have a number of segments of "operation" and, in general, I just treat them as spells (i.e. with casting times) that cannot be interrupted. "Spell-like abilities" of various monsters are NOT spells and do not have casting times, nor do I treat them as interruptible]

With regard to bow-fired arrows, daggers, and darts...all of which have a rate of fire greater than 1...I treat them the same as a combatant with "multiple attack routines," thus firing both before and after initiative. While the rules are not explicit on whether or not to treat multi-fire missiles as such, I can look back to Chainmail (from whence AD&D gets the 1 minute combat round) and see that this is indeed how archer missile fire was treated: archers would receive one shot SIMULTANEOUS with movement (so the archery would be resolved against chargers prior to resolution from melee at the end of the charge) and then a second shot would be allowed at the end of the turn provided both A) the archers did not move during the turn, and B) they were not engaged in melee at the end of the turn. As with many things AD&D, I find this very obvious: charging a position of missile-armed combatants is going to get you lit up. With regard to slower weapons (crossbows and such), initiative would still be rolled and shooting is determined based on the die result AND the amount of distance the charger needs to cover.

Once battle is joined (melee...yay!) things become very straightforward, especially declarations. "You're still locked in melee, do you want to continue to attack?" Characters who break from melee (fleeing) suffer the consequences of their cowardice; otherwise, the initiative roll every round determines which combatant throws their D20 first, so long as neither opponent has the "multiple attack routine" thing going on. Once an opponent is downed, they can move to attack another opponent in combat (no attack roll is allowed when performing this movement/target switch, unless the new opponent is already in melee distance). With regard to facing, given the abstract nature of AD&D combat and the length of time in a round, I do not award "flanking" bonuses or back attacks unless an opponent is already engaged in melee (in which case, I dice randomly to see who the opponent is facing) OR the opponent is unaware of the flanker (usually because the flanking attacker just downed their own opponent and has either charged, or moved to engage an opponent that was already distracted by fighting).

With regard to the unholy section of the DMG 66-67 ("Other Weapon Factor Determinants")...eh. It's fairly straightforward, even if ugly. This section only occurs when a combatant is in melee with an opponent who is trying to do something "other than striking blows:" casting a spell, using a wand, drinking a potion, etc. You subtract the losing result of the initiative dice (1-5) from the speed factor of the melee weapon, treating negative results as positive numbers(!!) and compare the result to number of segments that it takes the non-weapon wielder to complete their action, in order to determine "what happens first." When initiative results are tied (i.e. when combat would otherwise be "simultaneous") nothing is subtracted and speed factor is simply compared to the segment time of the non-melee action...an odd choice as this can give advantage to many spell-casters one-sixth of the time. 

What is NOT explicit...although I believe to be implied...is that the "losing initiative die roll" is ONLY subtracted from the weapon speed factor IF it is the melee combatant who loses initiative. If the melee combatant WINS initiative, they strike their blow BEFORE the non-melee activity takes place. This gives the advantage in melee squarely to the person with a sword, which is as it should be...Gygax writes at length about the difficulty of casting a spell during the chaos of combat; it makes little sense to give a wizard an advantage over a sword-swinger with spells like lightning bolt and magic-missile. Casting a spell while engaged in melee should ALWAYS be a desperate maneuver on the part of a caster! It only rarely comes up in my games because neither my players, nor my NPCs casters are likely to try it.

[again, NOTE: this rule only comes into effect after combatants are already engaged in melee. It does not apply during other parts of initiative when the easier "compare die results with casting time" procedure applies. I readily forgive DMs who prefer to ignore it altogether and simply use the "standard procedure" 100% of the time] 

ANYWAY.  As said, once combatants have come down to melee, combat gets incredibly straightforward. Initiative moves back and forth, combatants maneuvers as opponents are downed, and everyone keeps a close eye on their hit points. Morale becomes a factor for some types of foes/monsters (less so for others) and fights usually end up being to the death. For me (as the Dungeon Master) the trick is to resolve the combats QUICKLY...once combatants get "stuck in," the battle should be resolved in a few minutes. Declarations are fast. Dice are rolled fast. Damage is removed.  Morale is checked. It grinds out in rapid fashion, and thank goodness, because we all (DM and players alike) want to get back to the adventure and exploration that led us to the battle in the first place.

Okay. I think that's about it. I'll answer specific questions in the comments section.

Iron Fist

"Dear JB" Mailbag #28

Huh. An actual "Dear JB" letter (via email), rather than something snagged from Reddit. Here you go, man...

Dear JB:

I have been reading the core AD&D books and some classic AD&D modules in hopes of running the game for my group. I noticed that, unlike B/X modules, AD&D modules omit morale entirely from stat blocks. This is something that persists into modern day modules, for example Guy Fullerton's modules. Why isn't having morale in statblocks standard in AD&D? 

Sincerely, 

Mystified About Morale

Dear Mystified:

Morale, as a game concept/mechanic has been around long before D&D...in fact, while it is made mention of in OD&D (see page 13 of Volume I, Men & Magic) no specific mechanics are provided. Instead, readers are referred back to Chainmail, the foundational wargame that provided a "jumping off point" for D&D...although the text (as is often the case with OD&D) is far from explicit.

Morale in Basic D&D, especially B/X (an edition which is...essentially..."streamlined OD&D"), is based off the Chainmail model. Chainmail was a d6 based rule system...all game mechanics in Chainmail are resolved with the use of six-sided dice, and morale...an essential part of wargaming...is no different. Specific units are provided with a target number (requiring a 2d6 roll), but the thresholds for requiring a morale check varies by troop type. "Elite heavy foot," for example, need only roll a 6+ (on 2d6)...and, then, only if sustaining more than 1/3 casualties (either in missile or melee combat). Peasant levies, on the other hand, need to roll an 8+ and are required to check morale at only 25% casualties...they panic more quickly and are easier to break.

All the various fantasy troop types listed in Chainmail have a "morale" rating listed: from the "5" of orcs and goblins, to the "10" of wraiths and wizards. These form the basis of the morale ratings in Basic editions of D&D (like B/X and BECMI and their derivative OSR retro-clones).

AD&D is a little different. Unlike the Basic editions of D&D, AD&D is not designed to introduce basic concepts of dungeon delving and skirmish-level wargaming to the new player. Instead, AD&D is a robust system designed for maximum playability, versatility, and verisimilitude while still maintaining the parameters of play. This leads it to having some more "fiddly" game mechanics, in comparison to the cut-&-dry systems found in B/X.

Still, morale is a large part of a game that places combat as a premium feature of the system. Rather than assign morale based on monster type (as does B/X), monster morale in AD&D is based on hit dice: 50% + 5% per HD over 1 and +1% per hit point adjustment. Thus an ogre (HD 4+1) would have a base morale score of 66% in AD&D. However, unlike the B/X edition, AD&D morale checks are slightly more subjective (is the enemy faced with "an obviously superior force?") and is adjusted by many more modifiers (friends killed or deserting versus enemies slain/routed, for example).

All these numbers are outlined on page 67 of the DMG. 

I'd speculate that the reason there are no morale ratings listed in the "stat blocks" of AD&D modules has something to do with allowing the DM to consider all the possible variables carefully, especially given Gygax's stipulations (see page 103 of the DMG) that NPCs should be played by the DM in an "appropriate" fashion (i.e. as based on a particular creature's intelligence, bravery, or lack thereof). The absence of morale scores in stat blocks doesn't equate to all encounters being "to the death" fights; rather, the DM of an AD&D game is supposed to be thoughtful about how to handle said encounters. 

For me, I tend to only use the morale rules (conveniently re-printed on the last page of the DMG) when dealing with groups of monsters/troops, i.e. when the NUMBER of creatures involved might bolster the amount of courage and "mob mentality" that the group has. For animals or individuals (even a handful of bandits), I tend to make decisions based on actual circumstance and how I feel the NPC in question would respond to the press of battle (based on personality), without rolling the percentile dice every couple rounds. But that's just me, and the mechanics are there, for those who want to use them.

[also, please note that stat blocks in modules serve DMs by giving them one less thing to reference during play...specifically, the Monster Manual. And "morale score" is not part of the the MM description of monsters (unlike the monster write-ups in the B/X bestiary)...thusly, the module author is not losing anything by omitting something that isn't already there]

Hope that's de-mystified things a bit.

Sincerely,

JB

Inspirational And Educational Reading

"Inspirations for all of the fantasy work I have done stems directly from the love my father showed when I was a tad, for he spent many hours telling me stories he made up as he went along, tales of cloaked old men who could grant wishes, of magic rings and enchanted swords, or wicked sorcerers and dauntless swordsmen. Then too, countless hundreds of comic books went down, and the long-gone EC ones certainly had their effect. Science fiction, fantasy, and horror movies were a big influence. In fact, all of us tend to get ample helpings of fantasy when we are very young, from fairy tales such as those written by the Brothers Grimm and Andrew Long. This often leads to reading books of mythology, paging through bestiaries, and consultation of compilations of the myths of various lands and peoples. Upon such a base I built my interest in fantasy, being an avid reader of all science fiction and fantasy literature since 1950. The following authors were of particular inspiration to me. In some cases I cite specific works, in others I simply recommend all their fantasy writing to you. From such sources, as well as just about any other imaginative writing or screenplay you will be able to pluck kernels from which grow the fruits of exciting campaigns. Good reading!"

[Inspirational Reading list follows, then:]

"The most immediate influences upon AD&D were probably de Camp & Pratt, REH, Fritz Leiber, Jack Vance, HPL, and A. Merritt; but all of the above authors, as well as many not listed certainly helped to shape the form of the game. For this reason, and for the hours of reading enjoyment, I heartily recommend the works of these fine authors to you."

Gary Gygax's much lauded "Appendix N" shows up on page 224 of the first edition DMG...a list of fantasy books and authors that EGG held up as particularly inspirational and influential to his writing of the Dungeons & Dragons game. 

Yet, despite being enjoyable reading, none of these books will provide much of a map or outline of how to run the game of D&D or even describe (much) of what a D&D game should look like. Oh, there similar themes, scenes, and events that might be found in any particular game session. But while "Appendix N" may give one a good feel for the fantasy that shaped the imaginations of Gygax, Arneson, etc. they are not instructional when it comes to teaching the game of Dungeons & Dragons. Trying to run your game so that it looks like a Howard or Leiber story will, at best, result in some kind of pastiche or homage to those authors. 

And while creating such pastiche can be good fun, it stagnates readily enough, much as any type of "railroad gaming" becomes (sooner or later) stale and unsatisfactory. In this case, the railroad is one of genre, rather than story...though, of course, hewing too closely to any fictional inspiration can result in the DM using force to that end as well. "Don't let the rules (or dice rolls) get in the way of telling a good story" is an aphorism sadly parroted throughout RPG circles...even those styling themselves as "Old School" gamers.

Despite the long list of monsters and magic and concepts (like "alignment") that were taken from these authors...in much the same way that mythology and books of historic medieval armaments were purloined for the game...Dungeons & Dragons, as a game, neither models nor even attempts to model these stories. And attempting to run one's game so that it looks like a Howard or Leiber or (God forbid!) Lovecraft story is a fool's errand and a disservice to the game itself. 

Dungeon Masters are not authors; at least, not when we are operating in our role as Dungeon Master. 

The job of an author is to tell a story. Short stories provide a problem or scenario for the protagonist to struggle against; long stories (novels) show how a protagonist develops and changes over time given the events of the book. Both of these apply to the Dungeons & Dragons game (our player characters struggle in the immediate term against the challenges set by the DM and over time they grow and change), but in D&D this is done without a directed course. There s no premise being addressed, no theme being explored, no climax that needs to be met. A game of D&D is NOT a story, not in the way the books in Appendix N are. 

It is, rather, the "story of our lives," which is to say the process of living and existing...even though the lives being lived are completely and wholly of our imagination. This may sound ridiculous, but D&D is an experiential (fantasy) adventure game and, in the end "living" an imaginary life is what the game play...for players...boils down to. 

In this regard, I believe that Tolkien's book The Hobbit may be the closest of the Appendix N books to describing a D&D campaign. Yes, it has all the trappings: monsters, treasure, spells, "dungeons" (the goblin caves, the elf king's halls, the Lonely Mountain), swords and wizards and "demi-humans." But the novel is far more than just its recognizable "fantasy" tropes: Here is a world setting, carefully crafted by its maker. Here are events and challenges faced by a group of protagonists, cooperating for mutual success. Here are choices being offered that may lead to peril and/or the possibility of reward, and always with additional, character-driven consequences...consequences which, in turn, shape the on-going campaign and the narrative ("story") of that campaign.

And here, also, are the logistical issues of adventure...those aspects that change the game from a simple fairy tale adventure story, to an immersive experience with verisimilitude. Issues of food and shelter, baggage trains, overland travel, and inclement weather. Relationships with powerful individuals that need to be groomed and/or carefully managed (not just Beorn, but the goblin king, the elf king, the Master of Lake Town, etc.). These aspects of "life" cannot be ignored if one seeks to play D&D over the long-term...the manner of play in which it reaches its highest level.

Conan's episodic adventures, enjoyable as they are, are adolescent at best, in comparison.

In this regard, The Hobbit is highly reminiscent of H. Rider Haggard's classic adventure novel, King Solomon's Mines. Despite its 19th century timeline and lack of "classic fantasy" tropes, Haggard's book has plenty of D&D-style adventure in its pages: exploration and privation, treasure seeking and combat, ancient, subterranean labyrinths (complete with traps), and interpersonal relationships with NPCs both helpful and hostile. Despite its anachronistic setting and the shortness of its scope (the book details only one "adventure" per se...though an admittedly massive one), there is a lot for the DM to learn about crafting a scenario worthy of the long-term D&D campaign.

Haggard's book also demonstrates how much raw power and adventure can be generated just using the history, cultures, mythology and geography of our own world. Rather than invent from whole cloth, or create pastiche of favorite fantasy books and films, most Dungeon Masters will find it more productive to seek out the same sources of inspiration and educational reading that informed the settings and scenarios of their favorite fantasy authors (like those in Appendix N): namely, the non-fiction books concerning our real world. Most, if not all, of the strange and weird cultures and situations described from Bracket and Moorecock, Howard and Leiber, are simple re-skinnings and/or re-imaginings of our own world's past (and, in some cases, its present). Many are the neophyte DM who disregards or downplays the "banality" of our mundane "real world" in favor of "true fantasy," failing to understand that the fantasy authors they best love and admire were drawing directly from real world sources. Before the last century or two, our world  had thousands of years of untamed wilderness, mighty cultures (rising and falling), supernatural beliefs, perilous journeys, and adventurous folk of all languages and skin tones looking to find "fortune and glory." That many of us equate "adventure stories" with European/Western colonialism is a sad commentary on the lack of depth in our literary inventory: we read of crusader knights and gold-hungry Spaniards and completely neglect the fact that there are humans in every corner of the globe and history who have sought to rise above their station through adventurous means. 

"Fortune-hunting adventurer" has NEVER been the exclusive purview of white dudes.

However, let us not digress too far from the subject at hand: creating an easy-to-follow blueprint for running Dungeons & Dragons. The DMG is, of course, a great sourcebook and place to start...kind of like the Bible is a nice book to read if you want to be a Christian. But, just as Christianity (any form) needs a bit more to find a lasting and satisfying spiritual life, you're going to need more than just your copy of Gygax's opus.

As of today, the BEST books I've read that describe a typical "Gygaxian campaign" of the AD&D variety are those written by Gygax himself, specifically Saga of Old City and Artifact of Evil. These are...admittedly...terrible books, but they are EXCELLENT descriptions of what a 1E campaign would look like, especially the latter book (Artifact). They aptly demonstrate the weird, kitchen-sink fantasy of Gygax, show how alignment works, displays the emphasis of mass combat (while still maintaining small-scale, personal action), and pays no nevermind to the various anachronisms of speech and culture that crop up during a game session. D&D play is not about method acting or historical reenactment; it is a game designed to be experienced by the players. Reading these books, while perhaps painful to the more erudite amongst us, does show what your average, competent 1E campaign looks like if you play with all the bells & whistles of the original seven volumes (DMG, PHB, MM, MM2, FF, DDG, UA). 

That doesn't make it a great campaign...but it does make it a great example. And probably the best example in print (apologies to Dave Arneson and his First Fantasy Campaign book).

Now, in my next post, I'll discuss the foundational text for creating your own campaign; not the DMG or anything in its "Appendix N," but a pertinent book written with a similar, parallel objective in mind: Tony Bath's Ancient Wargaming.

An Advanced D&D Campaign

Damn. I was not going to post anything today, but this one's too good not to share. From 42 Rolls of Duck Tape:

"I've got this one player who keeps asking me to run this or that old module for him, and I keep saying that they exist as locations and he would have to get his pc to make the effort to discover and go to that place(which he finally did for [module B4] the lost city). Because I use my version of mystara that means that most of the basic line of modules are present in my world, I just don't run them as "adventurers" that I take the party on. 

"I run a setting not an adventure. I don't separate between the two. The current actions of the PCs are the adventure, they don't go from one adventure to another, going through a cycle of Dungeons and plots and whatnot. The only real thing separating "adventures" is each individual session we get to play; it's all one continuous adventure. The adventure is the players(not the pcs, but the actual players) discovering my world and interacting with it. Without their direct interaction, there is no game. As much effort as I put into the campaign setting it is nothing without someone else playing in it and finding their own adventure. 

"It's my job to present the setting, and most assuredly not to give the players an "adventure" to play through; the adventure is created by them."

Lance Duncan gets it. 

Take all that in and you won't need another long-winded, digression-filled scrawl of text from me. I mean, I'll keep writing them (because I'm bat-shit crazy), but you won't need them.

Remember this old post? Yeah, I said making dungeons was the "hack" approach to playing D&D, and promised I'd write a follow-up explaining what you needed to do for an "advanced" campaign. And then I never came back to the subject. *sigh* Because I'm busy and I suck, all right?!

But now I don't even need to write that post, because Lance has spelled it all out for you:

The ADVENTURE is the PLAYERS DISCOVERING the WORLD and INTERACTING WITH IT.  The campaign is ALL ONE CONTINUOUS ADVENTURE.

This is what "advanced" D&D play is. It doesn't matter that Lance uses Mystara and (probably) some version of Basic D&D as a rule set for his game...he's still playing D&D in an advanced fashion. 

What do I mean by that? Look: the Basic sets (as has been well-documented elsewhere) were written and designed to INTRODUCE NEW PLAYERS to the foundational concepts of Dungeons & Dragons. Full stop...that's why Holmes wrote his book, that's why B/X was published, that's why BECMI was written. 

And AS SUCH they provide a method of play and procedure that allow players to dip their feet into the whole D&D thing. Here's a dungeon. Here's a wilderness. Here's some cheap-o rules for domain play and immortality quests (Mentzer's C and M sets).

Fine. Dandy. Great, even...D&D is a complex game and introductory rules are strongly recommended for new players. B/X taught me how to play D&D, too.

But that's only the opening move of the game. The TRUE game is the ADVANCED game, readily and headily described in Gygax's Dungeon Master Guide. The DMG discusses (explicitly and at great length) how to create campaigns and how to run campaigns, as well as providing a plentitude of specific ideas of the content one can put into their campaigns...from diseases and hirelings to politics and economics to legendary artifacts and relics.

It also (as I've noted before) provides precious little guidelines on how to create/write a an "adventure."

[still, that last bit makes sense when one considers the campaign to have moved out of the dungeon and into the wider world of the campaign. Which (duh) also explains why world building is so important, right? Yep, I just keep end up harping on the same stuff...]

Anyhoo. Lance has got the concept down. Doesn't matter that he's using Mystara as a world setting/map. Doesn't matter what rule set he's using (not much, anyway...). What matters is the way he uses them. 

All right...we'll cut this one short and sweet. Happy Thursday, folks.

; )

"Adventure" Design

Just in case any of my readers haven't heard, Alexis is running an adventure writing TEACHING contest with hundreds of American dollars (more than $1K) in cash prices. No, Alexis is not judging the entries...he is only putting up the money. Interested individuals who know how to use a video camera and want to participate should check out the link.

It's an interesting contest. How does one teach someone to write adventures? For that matter, how should one go about writing an adventure? Is it just a matter of having an idea and a word processor? 

Judging by the multitude of published adventures on DriveThruRPG, it would appear many individuals feel they already know how to write an an adventure (and, yeah, maybe they feel it IS only about having an idea and a computer for uploading data). 'Course, that's no guarantee of an adventure being any good.

Perhaps our understanding of What An Adventure Is is lacking these days. The Tom Moldvay-edited Basic (B/X) rules defines the term simply:

adventure -- Any session where a DM and players meet to play a D&D game.

[from the B/X Glossary, page B63]

...but I think the common use and understanding of the term comes from what was once called (and sometimes still called) adventure modules. These are also described in the B/X glossary, a bit more specifically:

module -- Completely designed and challenging adventures available from TSR Hobbies, Inc. that contain maps, keys, background information, NPCs, and other information for use by the DM to use in his or her campaign.

[also page B63]

While such terms are omitted from the DMG glossary, we find a similar definition in the (final) "catalogue" pages of the first edition PHB where it lists other TSR products:

MODULES

Every AD&D module is a ready-to-play adventure setting, populated with appropriate monsters, treasures, tricks, and traps, and including maps, background information, and histories. Though each individual module is designed to stand on its own, several series are specially made to form a connected progression of adventures.

[from the PHB, page 127]

Also of note (same page) is:

INTRODUCTORY MODULES

Each of these modules is especially designed to instruct both the beginning player and Dungeon Master, how to construct and fill one's own dungeons and how to better play D&D for full enjoyment.

The only two "introductory modules" listed are B1: In Search of the Unknown and B2: The Keep on the Borderlands, adventures specifically written/designed for the (introductory) Basic D&D game. T1: The Village of Hommlet (generally considered an introductory module) is NOT, being found in the previous (AD&D Module) section.

Leaving aside the self-referential advertising, these explanations of the term "module" all seem describe a singular scenario: a situational set of circumstances for the players to interact with in a given game session. Especially in the AD&D description:

...a ready-to-play adventure setting...

these modules are not billing themselves as the adventure itself. Which I find fascinating when coupled with the description (from the catalogue) of the Dungeon Masters Guide:

DUNGEON MASTERS GUIDE

This hardbound masterwork contains all the invaluable charts and information necessary to be a Dungeon Master. It contains in addition, guidelines for developing the campaign and for running the AD&D game more smoothly.

Make careful note of that description: in no way, shape or form does it promise to teach DMs how to craft adventures...only how to develop campaigns and how to run the game more smoothly. Neither does the back cover (either of the 1E covers) say anything about writing/creating adventures...nor (so far as I can tell) does the body of the text describe what an "adventure" is supposed to mean in terms of the game.

All of which suggests to me that Moldvay's definition of "adventure" (any session where a DM and players meet to play a D&D game) was MORE than just Tom's invention...it was, in fact, based on an understanding of what the term meant to the creators/publishers of the game. 

"Adventures" are what the players (through their characters) were expected to have every time they came to the table. Whether big or small, meaningful, impactful, or none of the above...D&D was meant to be a game where every time you sat down you were experiencing fantasy "adventure." The information Gygax provides in the PHB for Successful Adventures (pages 107-109) would, contextually, seem to indicate that as well:

...assume that a game is scheduled tomorrow, and you are going to get ready for it well in advance so as to have as much actual playing time as possible -- no sense in spending precious adventuring minutes with the mundane preparations common to the game.

First get in touch with all those who will be included in the adventure, or if all are not available, at least talk to the better players so that you will be able to set an objective for the adventure. Whether the purpose is so simple as to discover a flight of stairs to the next lowest unexplored level or so difficult as to find and destroy an altar to an alien god, some firm objective should be established...

Take a look at that: Gygax is using the term adventure simply in place of the term "game session." Find out who is going to be participating in the [session]. Discuss objectives for the [session] before play. Do not waste precious minutes of the [session] time. Gygax makes it clear (earlier, on page 101) that "adventures" (again, read game sessions) can take place in dungeons, outdoor environments, or cities and towns, and he provides tips and advice for tackling ANY such setting...but as an overall preparation for a game of D&D.

NOT the preparation for a single, particular scenario.

The latter is what modules provided: scenarios that could be inserted (in modular fashion) into one's home campaign. Which is how we used to use them back in the day. Heck, it's still how I use them...I don't need no stinking World of Greyhawk.

So the idea of "adventure writing" or "adventure creation" is a bit of a misnomer. What is being created are scenarios...situations and opportunities that might (and probably should) appeal to a group of players who enjoy fantasy gaming. Adventuring is the act of playing D&D...not the act of tackling a particular scenario.

At least originally. Things change. Now adventures are more than opportunities...they are the expectation of play. A mystery is presented (that PCs are expected to solve). A dramatic story is presented (that PCs are expected to take part in). A formidable threat to the locals/kingdom/world is presented (that PCs are expected to side against and find a way to heroically defeat). When players show up for a game session, the DM has "an adventure" ready for the PCs to face because that's how we do D&D now.  

In my opinion, the game has been diminished because of this: playing this way is like playing an overly complex board-less board game. It's a deck-building game without decks. Far from establishing their own objectives, PCs are left to the objectives presented by the DM who acts (more-or-less) as a proxy stand-in for the "adventure designer." Kind of lame, if you ask me. Especially with the added attitude (sometimes expressed) that "THIS is what we're doing tonight...if you don't want to go on the prepared 'adventure,' then there won't be any game happening."

I've encountered this before...as a player. Both in home games and in conventions. We have a scenario...do it or go home. Which isn't how I run my games (generally. Hmm...I'm trying to remember exceptions). I've left a lot of half-finished modules strewn in my wake over the years: players abandon an adventure for one reason or another and move on to other things. And that's OKAY; it's okay that the players don't care terribly about FINISHING some scenario to completion...after all, D&D is NOT a video game (contained, limited, bounded by its medium).

This is why, when I re-purpose something like Dragons of Despair or Ravenloft, the first couple things I do are:

1. Un-couple it from any restrictions that prevent PCs from leaving (like poison fog banks and infinite dragonman patrols), and
2. Provide the PCs with real reasons for wanting to be there (like huge piles of delicious treasure). 

Because that's how D&D (I'm speaking specifically of Dungeons & Dragons, not other RPGs) is supposed to run. Playing the game IS the adventure. Adventure scenarios (whether in published modules or self-brewed) are opportunities of interest...and that's it. Players may have things they're MORE interested in than plumbing dungeons: finding a husband/wife, building a castle, creating a magic item, discovering a contact with the thieves' guild, whatever. LOTS of opportunities for "adventures" present themselves when you're not shackled to running the plot of a particular scenario. 

Anyway.

I'll probably circle back to this topic when I talk about "the perpetual game" (a post I've been meaning to write for months now. Sorry). In the meantime, hopefully I've given folks something to mentally chew on. If you're interested in describing your own techniques/procedures for adventure writing...er, "scenario creation"...and if you'd like to win some cold, hard, cash, I strongly suggest checking out the contest over at The Tao of D&D. 

Later, gators.

Killing Gods, Part 4

All right…that’s a long enough break since my last post on “killing gods.” More than enough. 

As a precursor, I need a moment to talk about the relationship between clerics and deities; I realize this will seem yet another digression, but it’s pertinent to the conversation. You see, this whole subject came up because I was unsatisfied with the way I feel (many) adventure designs of recent years have been unreasonable with their treatment of gods…but it’s quite possible that this trend (and my preferences) come in part from learning different styles of play. 

I will elaborate.

I’ve written before about the shift in perspective of What Exactly A Cleric Is that came about in 1983 with the publication of the Mentzer version of Basic. As I’ve recounted (often enough) this was NOT the brand of D&D by which I learned the game. The clerics in my first campaign (which I ran up till circa 1988) didn’t receive their spells from “the strength of their beliefs.” No. Un-uh. Spells come from the gods they worship…they are divine favors, pure and simple, miracles granted by higher powers. 

This is, of course, EXPLICIT in the text. The 1981 Moldvay Basic set described it thusly:

Since clerical spalls are divinely given, they do not have to be studied; the cleric need only rest and pray for them.

"Divinely given" is the key phrase here. I can understand if there is some confusion caused by the actual description of the cleric class in Moldvay; its text ("...they are trained in fighting and casting spells. As a cleric advances in level, he or she is granted the use of more and more spells...") could be interpreted as meaning that their magic is separate from their deity, that magical training is something only those who are initiated into the cult's higher secrets are taught. But unless Moldvay is speaking metaphorically (I don't think he is), the phrase divinely given in the Spell section makes clear just who is "granting" access to clerical magic...not higher level priests and patriarchs, but the god or goddess whom the cleric serves.

And Gygax is even more clear in the AD&D Dungeon Masters Guide:

It is well known to all experienced players that clerics, unlike magic-users, have their spells bestowed upon them by their respective deities.

The DMG text (page 38) goes on for more than half a page detailing exactly how clerics receive their magic directly from their gods, either by being divinely empowered (1st and 2nd level spells), bestowed upon them through intermediaries (saints, angels, demigods, etc. for 3rd through 5th level spells), or granted by direct communication with the deity itself (6th and 7th level spells). It is not a cleric's "inner strength," "strong beliefs," or "mystical training" that allows the character to create miracles...it is the god itself. A cleric with no god receives no magic. Period.

As said, Mentzer changes this in his 1983 Basic rulebook...a book I never owned until the 2000s, and certainly not the book I learned to play with. But a subtle shift in thinking is evident in TSR's publications as early as 1982. I refer here to two classic modules published that year: N1: Against the Cult of the Reptile God and B4: The Lost City. I imagine both modules might be held up as inspirations for the works of recent designers I cited earlier, examples of "sword & sorcery" style adventures featuring "godlike beings" who are nothing more than actual (non-divine) monsters needing to be killed...respectively a spirit naga named Explictica Defilus and the tentacled monstrosity known as Zargon. These false gods, whether through longevity and fear or powerful mind control, have created cults of worship around themselves, followers who hold them in awe and carry out their "divine will, much as one might expect of followers duped by a charlatan.

And yet both modules include actual cleric followers of these monsters...clerics with the ability to access clerical magic. N1 has multiple clerics of Explictica using spells of up to 4th level (7th level clerics). B4 features Darius, a 6th cleric (also with access to spells up to 4th level) of the "cult of Zargon" as one of the Big Bads of the adventure. None of these characters make sense under the rules of the game; none of these characters should have ANY spells whatsoever.

Contrast this with the backstory found in the 1980 module C1: The Hidden Shrine of Tamoachan:

Eventually a new Archon mounted the throne in Pontylver, one who claimed [lawful neutral] Alia as her patron. The Temple of the Correct and Unalterable Way grew in followers and prestige, and as time passed, Myrrha noticed that her peers and superiors were becoming increasingly arrogant and arbitrary....Myrrha saw they were falling into the heresy of believing that law is concentrated in the individual and not the community. Investigating, she discovered a well-kept secret: many members of the ecclesiarchy were no longer able to cast high-level spells, thus proving their estrangement from their deity!

If N1 was properly designed (that is, written to follow the instructions laid out in the rule books), neither Abramo nor Misha would have access to clerical spells above 2nd level (and maybe not even those) and Gareth Primo would have no magic at all because a spirit naga is not a god and, thus, not capable of granting spells.

That is the game, folks, and I honestly don't think it's "open to interpretation." But...perhaps because of "satanic panic" pressure over the pretending to worship strange gods (see the 1982 Mazes and Monsters where Tom Hanks plays a batshit-crazy cleric)...TSR started to move away from its own rules. Started to say, hey, being a cleric isn't really about worshipping a god, it's about your character's training and "strong beliefs" manifesting powers...you're just a magic-user in priest's clothing and it doesn't matter whether you're worshipping the One True God or some tentacled space slug that crashed on the planet a thousand years ago. We aren't teaching children about the worship of strange pagan gods...heavens, no! There is no god except God, these are just strangely deluded fantasy priests. Pay no attention!

And you see that carried all the way down to today's designers. From Jason Sholtis's magnificent Operation Unfathomable:

...clerics operate under the delusion that their deities actually exist (they do not!). In truth, clerics are merely a distinct variety of magic-user, devoted to one or more of the ten thousand Gods of Order. Clerics manipulate chaos to achieve their results through the mental constructs of their religious practices, rather than rote memorization of arcane mummery.

From 2017's Lamentations of the Flame Princess (James Raggi):

Cleric magic is divinely inspired, and is granted to Clerics through prayer. Whether these powers are granted to Clerics by higher powers, if these higher powers are what the Cleric believes them to be, or if all Cleric spells are merely ritualized forms of sympathetic magic, are all subjects frequently debated...

I would include the 2018 adventure The Red Prophet Rises in this mix of confusion, in which a heretical priest (Khazra), mistakenly worshipping an ancient vampiric entity, still (inexplicably) retains access to the spells of a 6th level cleric of "the Bull God." Why? Is the Obelisk that Thirsts a divine entity? No. Does it serve the Bull God? No. One would think spells would be withheld from the priest, if only to inform him of his delusional apostasy.  Guy uses a sword in combat anyway.

These authors (and others) seem to have been influenced somewhat by these later (post-1982) influences when it comes to explaining the relationship between clerics and their gods. Which is to say, there is little relationship, if any. Any failure of clerical magic can simply be attributed to the cleric losing faith in herself: it is not the deity that withholds magic, but the cleric's own psychological barriers to accessing a purely internal mechanism. 

I'm not a big fan of that interpretation. It doesn't jibe with the D&D I learned to play. It is not the AD&D of Gygax; it runs counter to the DMG and the information found in Deities & Demigods. And while I'll be the first to admit to being a stodgy, groggy, grumpy old man when it comes to my D&D, I'd even say that it's not very "Sword & Sorcery," either...despite what (many of) these authors hope to emulate.

Because as discussed in my first post on the subject, much of D&D is inspired by fantasy fiction of the pulp variety...and in pulp fantasy you see PLENTY of deluded cultists following charlatans and false gods, but they aren't getting any magical powers by doing so. False priests don't get spells: they use tricks and psychoactive powders or rule through fear and tradition and superstition. Real magic linked to worship is generally called sorcery and rightly so, as it is linked to the favors granted by demonic entities...but such infernal divinities are still "divine," supernatural and extra-dimensional. Only divinities grant divine powers: when Jagreen Lern or Elric conjure in the names of their chaos gods, THEN magical stuff happens. 

But maybe I need to rein in a bit and bring this all back around to the subject at hand ("killing gods"). There is, I think, a certain prevalence or attitude or orientation in the Old School Role-playing circles that has wandered far afield from the game as it was originally envisioned. Maybe. Maybe I'm wrong. But here's how I see it:

• As Mike Mornard writes, the original designers "made up some shit they thought would be fun." It involved exploring strange environs, finding treasure, building worlds. It was inspired and influenced by adventure fiction, much of it "fantasy" in nature.
• As a game, D&D has a system; it has rules. It models something (a fantasy world of adventure) and the rules are applied to the thing it models (the fantasy world of adventure) up to and including things like "how/why a cleric gets spells" and "how many hit points a god like Zeus might have."
• That divine architect that Elric is always searching for? The supreme being that orders the lives of even the gods of his world? D&D has that, too: it's called the Dungeon Master. And just like Elric's "supreme being" (who would be Michael Moorcock...duh), the DM is not a creature to be encountered by the protagonists (in D&D's case, the player characters). The DM creates the world but is not OF the world. What will be encountered are game constructs, up to and including the gods that inhabit the game world.
• As a constructed fantasy world D&D has a cosmology. As a game that models a fantasy world, that cosmology can be exactly and minutely defined...right down to just how much damage Thor can do with a hammer blow, or how many greater devils inhabit the 3rd layer of the Nine Hells...should such info ever become necessary for play.
• The game (D&D) has parameters (structure) of play. It has assumptions and expectations of how play resolves.  These expectations of play resolution are determined by 1) the rules, 2) the way the rules model the world, and 3) the fiction that inspires the game...in that order. Don't (for example) tell me "well, Gandalf used a sword!" The inspiring fiction (#3) comes behind the rules (#1) and the modeled fantasy world (#2).

As originally conceived, Dungeons & Dragons was never about "telling stories." It was about playing a game of exploration and survival (adventure!) in a fantasy game world. However, some folks were quite unimaginative with how they worked within those parameters, creating murder-hobo funhouses of the poorest variety and this caused pushback in the form of front-loaded drama. We shall not wait for a story to emerge from our adventures! We shall make sure there is MEANING to these characters' (fake) lives!

Combine the success of that front-loaded drama (through company supported publications like Ravenloft and Dragonlance) with an imperative to cut anything perceived as controversial (i.e. impacting the bottom line) from a game now being marketed to children (this being the shift that began circa 1982), and one can readily see the consequences: we don't kill gods. We kill demons. We kill immortal liches. We kill creatures masquerading as gods. We kill surrogates in order to have our high stakes, high drama, emotionally invested play.

Because, originally, emotional investment in a character was mainly found in long-running (i.e high level) characters. And high level characters, by necessity, required greater challenges to stay engaged...tackling gods (modeled as part of the cosmology) and godlike beings (that giant ape from WG6) are a natural evolution of challenge for characters of the highest echelon, because lesser challenges don't cut it anymore. If you want to run a high level campaign, you're going to want to study up your copy of Sailor on the Seas of Fate because that's about "par" when it comes to suitable challenges. Good old Demogorgon has been a part of the D&D tapestry since 1976...and for good reason. 

[hell, I used to fight Demogorgon...on the playground...waaaay back before I ever laid eyes on ANY D&D book. Before I even opened my first box of the Dungeon! board game, even]

Not low level characters (I'm guessing).

Outside of WotC's latest-greatest editions, D&D designers have (mostly) moved away from front-loaded drama and railroad story arcs, but they've still passed some sort of threshold from which they can't seem to return. They want high stakes, high challenge, high weirdness in their adventure...but they don't want high level player characters. They want their players to continue playing "small ball" forever after, retiring (I suppose) should they ever, somehow, reach 8th or 10th level of play. "Too superheroic," is the refrain I hear. "The game is no fun after around 5th (or 6th or 7th) level."

Bull. Crap. But that discussion is for another post.

Throwing high level challenges (like godlings) into low level adventures is an attempt by designers to have their cake and eat it, too. It's an attempt to inject Elric-levels of amazeballs fantasy into the lives of grubby, Warhammer Fantasy-level adventurers in order to draw out low-level play while still keeping long-since-jaded players engaged with the game in front of them. Is that as bad as playing pre-generated snowflakes traveling the Dragonlance railroad? Absolutely not. But it's got to be grating after a while. It would certainly bug the shit out of me.

All right, that's it. I lied about this being the concluding post...just had too much more to say. The NEXT post will definitely be the conclusion to this series. 

Punching Through The Sentinel

A couple weeks ago, I decided to start running AD&D (Advanced Dungeons & Dragons, i.e. "first edition") again. My players are my children, ages 9 and 6. They, of course, are far too young to really parse out the rules, but since I'm the Dungeon Master I can simply ask them what they want to do and then tell them what dice to roll. Isn't that how everyone plays D&D these days?

So far, the players have been remarkably fortunate: neither has lost a character, despite occasional missteps. They've also made remarkable progress as far as advancement: the elven fighter just reached 4th level, and the halfling fighter/thief is 2nd/3rd (and only a couple hundred x.p. short of leveling up). They do remain rather "cash poor" and their cache of magic items (a single +1 dagger and a suit of leather armor +1) is rather light, but they are otherwise doing all right. Heck, they've even acquired a pair of henchmen (a half-elf fighter and an elven magic-user); hopefully, they'll last longer than the last two they had.

[both were gored to death by perytons]

My DMG has been getting a workout this week...my fingers have seen more flipping-and-turning then any time in the last twenty years (I suspect it was more back in my 3E days, but I can't say for sure). I've used the poison rules, the unarmed combat rules, hirelings and henchmen, training and advancement, character expenses, animal pelts, item saving throws, overland movement (mounted and non-), morale and loyalty, x.p. for magic items, two weapon fighting, cost for NPC spell use, negative hit points...and probably a couple other things I'm forgetting at the moment. However, it's been a LOT more than my B/X and OD&D games of recent years...enough so that I've found myself prepping (i.e. reading and researching) my DMG many mornings, trying to stay "ahead of the curve" for the coming exploits of the day (we're still on vacation over here).

It's been glorious. 

Part of this I'll credit to the adventure module I'm using: UK2 The Sentinel (by Graeme Morris) is pretty good, really showcasing a lot of the bits and pieces from the AD&D game that sometimes gets glossed over. Illusionist magic, ingestive poisons, humanoid shamans, disease, wilderness movement through multiple terrain types, and a profound lack of ready-made NPC hirelings...all these things have forced me to re-familiarize myself with stuff I haven't thought about in years. And I admit I've quite missed the potential for this level of detail.

Uh-oh.

But the other part has just been trying to find ways to make sure my inexperienced players are getting an even break. For a low-level adventure, The Sentinel has many difficult parts...especially considering the number of encounters requiring magical weapons. Those perytons are pretty much unavoidable, and they are vicious, vicious creatures...their +2 attack bonus means they hit like a troll, and they average 10 damage per attack. Morris seems to be assuming that most parties will have a several magic weapons by the time they reach the encounter (unavoidable, as said, because of its location); the module's "suggested character roster" includes four permanent magic weapons, a quiver of magic arrows, and a wand of magic missiles. My players didn't have a single magic item prior to starting the adventure, despite being 2nd level. 

Still, they've somehow managed to muddle through.

[*24 hours later*]

A half day of gaming later, and the kids are STILL alive, though they did lose another henchperson. Actually, they're quite well: the halfling has advanced to level 3rd / 4th (or will have once she completes her training) the party has acquired a second magic weapon (a hand axe +1) and the henchwoman magic-user secured TWO new spell books.

Money remains an issue. Total party wealth is just under 2,700 gold pieces, much of which is tied up in high priced gems and jewelry. This is a problem because the territory of Berghoff (the module's mini-sandbox) consists of a half dozen small villages, most with less than 500 inhabitants) doesn't have the kind of infrastructure to change treasure for currency. Of course, there's little to buy in these towns anyway and (or more pressing concern to the players) little manpower of "adventuring" variety to be hired. That supply has been nearly exhausted...the elf (my son's character) is making the 100 mile roundtrip journey to the farthest northern town ("Hallbridges") in hopes of finding more mercenaries. Rough.

It's just interesting (amusing?) because I can vividly recall conversations with players back when I was running a B/X campaign about how "useless" treasure was because there was "nothing to buy." Huh. Well, even in a town that boasts little in the way of shops or goods, there's always something to spend money on. Sofia's character hasn't gotten around to buying a cart yet, but it's only a matter of time (she's purchased one in every game we've played prior - Holmes, B/X, and OD&D - so there's no reason to think she won't eventually get around to it). And the hiring and equipping of henchmen has turned into nearly as big a cash sink as training costs.

Which is great! Because it keeps the party hungry and on the move. 

That being said, it's pushing me to fill out more of my "campaign world." The kids have gotten to a point where they need larger population centers (which I don't have). They've been unable to find the thief an actual trainer in these little villages (doubling the halfling's training time) and now they're asking where they can find a cleric capable of raising the dead. I have no answers for these queries. But I will...eventually...and I'm looking forward to seeing where the AD&D process takes me.

Problem's been, it's been hard to get a "breather" just to plan that far ahead. But (as of today) "vacation" has ended and the kids are back in school (much as they can be) and I should have time to fill in some of these gaps. Maybe even put together some cheat sheets to help me with run the game without all the page flipping...a few playing aids would go a long way to improving the game's delivery. 

But we're enjoying ourselves. I'm enjoying myself. I'm not worrying about the fiddly-ness or weirdness of the rules; I'm just trying to run them. And so far, challenging or not, the game has been a pleasure to run.  I forgot just how much I like this edition. 

All right, that's it for now. Kid needs my laptop.

[by the way, the title of this post comes from the fact that we've now been required to use the infamous unarmed combat rules from the AD&D DMG on multiple occasions...and it's worked! That is to say, excess fiddle aside, it doesn't derail the game, and it's fairly fun (watching the halfling throw herself against the legs of a half-orc and bounce off was darn amusing). In my youth, I used the much simplified unarmed rules found in the Unearthed Arcana, but that was mostly because they were easier to parse; since I'm older, wiser, and definitely not inclined to open the UA these days, the DMG version seems just fine]

***posted Tuesday due to unforeseen computer delays***

Lovely Lovely Thieves

There were four possible topics I had on my mind to write about...dragons, elves, initiative, and thieves...and rather than make up my mind, I did the silly blog-o-sphere thing of rolling percentile dice to determine which it would be. The result came up "dragons" so, contrarian that I am, of course I'll be writing about thieves (again)...and the post is looooong. Brew that coffee!

I've had lots of time to think (haven't we all?) since my last post on thieves back in early June, and think I have, especially with a couple recent ideas added to the ol' noggin:

Rules exist to provide boundaries of play that (a) promote a challenging, engaging experience; and (b) maintain order by giving the players knowledge of what to expect from other players.

AND (the following flaws of setting design):

Inadequate comprehension of why a game process matters, how it adds to the game and why its implementation is a feature and not a bug.

As well as:

Vague and imprecise understanding of a rule's boundary.

...all of which have come from Alexis Smolensk's blog on design, The Higher Path. I'd cite the particular entries (here and here) but you need to be a Patron to access them; however, there's nothing there that specifically applies to thieves anyway...my application of these concepts to the thief class is coming out of my brain.

[take that for what it's worth]

As has become my usual M.O. I find it helpful to start at the earliest primordial ooze of a rule concept/system, in order to track its development and find exactly where, how, and (if possible) why it "went off the rails." In the case of the thief, we first see [Gygax's version] appear in The Great Plains Gamer Players Newsletter, a zine sold at GenCon VII in 1974.

The "original thief" has a number of small differences from how the character would eventually appear in Greyhawk (Supplement I). These include Chainmail style hit dice (as the basic classes received in Men & Magic), slightly lower XP requirements at the highest levels (85k instead of 90k for 9th level and 115k instead of 125k for every level thereafter), an alignment restriction of "neutral" (and no prohibition against lawful characters hiring them), and backstab damage that increases at a different rate (two dice for every four levels attained, minimum 2d6...this would mean 4d6 at 8th level, 6d6 at 12th level, 8d6 at 16th level, etc.). While the rules state that the class is open to humans, dwarves, elves, and hobbits (halflings), there is no mention of multi-class thieves, and no racial bonuses to skills are given for demihumans. The skills themselves (and their percentages) are entirely unchanged with the exception of hear noise which only ramps up to 100% (1-6) at 14th level, not 13th as given in Greyhawk.  Reading languages (at 3rd level) and magic (at 9th level) are given as "optional considerations" and do not list any chance of failure.

The Great Plains article also gives an admonition that "thieves are generally not meant to fight" and this is born out by their low hit dice (of all the classes given Chainmail hit dice, thieves have the worst progression...worse even than magic-users!). There are notes that, if using the "alternative combat method" thieves should progress as clerics on the combat tables (no mention is made of which saving throw type to use). Finally, there is an extensive example of how a thief might be used, describing all thief functions in action with the exception of wall climbing which, interestingly, is given NO CHANCE of failure in the article.

[the ability to "climb almost sheer surfaces rapidly, up or down" is still listed as one of the thief's unique abilities, but it includes no percentage. This makes the Greyhawk rule of 13% to slip and fall (decreasing 1% per level) to be an afterthought, explaining why it is given as a failure chance, rather than a success chance. This parallels Greyhawk's difference in handling the language/magic reading abilities of a thief]

Examining these ideas/rules thoroughly, what they are meant to do and their parameters (boundaries) of function, I find that I have a renewed interest in including the thief class, as it appears to answer all the issues raised in my earlier post:

• A neutral alignment in my setting doesn't pose any problems to inclusion in an adventuring party, lawful or otherwise (this will relate to a not-yet posted essay on alignment in my setting).
• The "point" of demihumans was (per Gygax in later writings) to give players who had rolled WEAK (i.e. non-optimal) characters an option to play something with extra (bonus) abilities. Someone wants to be a thief but rolls a poor dexterity? Be an elf thief and get infravision and better secret door detection (for example). I will not, however, be allowing multi-class thieves, with the possible exception of elves (and then only magic-user/thieves). I am also strongly considering level limits for demihuman thieves, as I want to maintain my setting's human-centric POV and do not relish the thought of "master thief" dwarves and elves running around the campaign.
• Guilds and lock picks are not a requirement of the rules/setting. I'll assume thieves make their own tools from scratch (if necessary).
• "Language reading" is the deciphering of codes and maps, not reading unknown languages. That's cool, though it seems appropriate to make success level dependent (as was done with climbing). Reading magic, however, is a different matter.
• "Low survivability" compared to other classes is mitigated by A) presumed role of the thief (i.e. non-combatant skill monkey), B) hit point adjustment (d6 hit points per hit die as originally given, instead of the d4 found in Greyhawk), C) fast advancement (fewer x.p. needed to level up / obtain hit points), and D) the addition of an AC bonus (of +1) that I will be giving to thieves only, for those with a DEX score of 15+ (this is in keeping with my current house rule of providing a small bonus to a class with a high prime requisite; it ends up being the equivalent of carrying a shield (either with or without armor) and doesn't interfere with my weapon vs. armor table.
• Issues with regard to skill use (backstabbing and pocket picking, "poor" percentages, and trap concerns, etc.) can all be addressed by being specific with skill explanations, definitions, and boundaries of play.

I'll talk about the thief's skills in a moment; first I want to talk about why the thief exists in the game...or, to be more precise, in my game.

The thief provides a particular type of play experience (that is to say, means of engaging with the game) to the player that falls outside the three defined roles in original system. It is not a fighter, though it must be at least somewhat combat-worthy (as combat participation is an intrinsic part of the game); it is not the thief's role to take hits for other party members, nor is it the thief's priority to deliver damage to opponents (sorry "rogue" fans). Likewise, the thief is not a cleric, whose role is one of defense and support; the cleric has heavy armor, magic that heals and boosts, and the ability to "turn" undead monsters with vicious, dangerous powers (paralysis, disease, level drain).

The thief is MOSTLY akin to the magic-user, sharing many traits in common: low combat ability, multiple means of interacting with the environment, not to mention some abilities that appear "magical" in nature (reading magic-user scrolls, foiling magical closures with open locks, etc. However, unlike the magic-user, the arrows in a thief's skill quiver are strictly defined; the magic-user makes choices as to which spells she brings to the party, while the thieves skills always remain the same. In this way, the thief (like the fighter) might be considered an appropriate class for the novice or beginning player: rather than knowledge of an entire textbook of spells, the player need only familiarize herself with a half-dozen skills. While the skills carry a chance of failure, they are also unlimited in usage (not that you can use them multiple times in a single instance, but multiple times in an adventure/session). Rather than increasing CHOICE with advancement in level, the character increases EFFECTIVENESS...they function better and/or more often.

This is why there's no need to make magic-users "roll dice" to see if their spells succeed (as in other RPGs...see DragonQuest as an example). Players who want to engage with the game in that "gambling style" of play can choose to play a thief gaining the abilities of invisibility, third dimensional movement, code-breaking, security defeating, and high damage delivery all in a single package. While you lose nuance and wider choice of application, as well as guaranteed success (a magic-user's invisibility, knock, and levitation spells ALWAYS functions), what you gain are a reusability factor and a streamlined simplicity not found in the wizard class. The thief is not a redundant class; it provides a different method for engaging with the game. 

Now, the skills: let's put hard boundaries to what they are and how they're used.

It's worth getting grungy to dig out the diamonds.

Though as recently as yesterday I was giving serious consideration to the idea of allowing player chosen specialization in skills (like, "add 35 percentile points to your choice of skills every time you level up"), upon reflection this flies in the face of both what the thief class represents (streamlined versatility) and what the thief models (a discreet package of skills that increase in effectiveness as the thief advances in her career). Yes, all 5th level cutpurses have a 40% chance to open locks and a 45% chance to move silently...they learned these skills as an apprentice, and by the time they've earned 10,000 x.p. this is amount of progress they've made towards mastering those abilities. By the time the master thief reaches 14th level, all her skills should have reached maximum potential.

Opening locks (by picking or even foiling magical closures): picking a lock on a chest or door requires the thief to use hand-crafted tools (no cost or encumbrance) that are upgraded automatically with any increase in level (taken out of any training costs). These are considered secreted upon the thief's person and only lost if somehow captured and stripped of all goods (including clothing); a highly unlikely situation. An attempt to open a lock can be made once and if failed then the lock "must be forced open -- a very time-consuming process." Magical closures do not include those under the spell of a hold portal or wizard lock, but refers instead to certain enchanted dungeon doors of the "puzzle" variety (without the need to work the puzzle...another time-consuming process)...such locks may include a penalty to the skill check.

Removal of small trap devices (including poison needles): these are small traps found on chests, coffers, alcoves, etc. with the specific purpose of guarding a treasure. Such traps are automatically detected by the thief (per the example given) and then the player must decide whether or not to attempt disarming the device. Failure to disarm a trap of this kind "activates it with regard to the thief and any others within range." Examination of the treasure object/resting place is enough to discover the trap (so bring a thief along with you); other methods might be tried to remove a treasure object rather than attempting to disarm the trap. Traps found in a dungeon (per Book III) "are usually sprung by a roll of a 1 or 2 [on a d6] when any character passes over or by them [including pit traps]." This thief skill is unrelated to those type of exploration traps (which I will...hopefully...be explaining in a later post).

Climb almost sheer surfaces rapidly, up and down: boundaries that need to be defined include speed of ascent/descent, distance traveled, weight carried, and definition of "failure." Speed climbers can ascend 15m (about 50') in under eight seconds; this is, of course, a product of optimal conditions, specific training, and modern equipment...but it's still close enough to what I imagine a "sheer surface climb." Considering caution (on the part of the thief) and unfamiliarity with the surface being climbed, I'd allow movement at one-half normal exploration speed: for OD&D this means one move (at 10' per 1" speed) over ten minutes; add one additional foot of climb speed per level over 1st. For example, an unencumbered 5th level cutpurse can ascend/descend 124' in ten minutes (12.4' per one minute melee round). A thief can climb faster (dividing the time spent climbing in half), but then the DM must roll a "failure check" as indicated in Greyhawk. Failure chance is doubled if moderately encumbered (9"), tripled if heavily encumbered (6"), and quadrupled if over-burdened (3"). One check is made per move. Let's say our same cutpurse is loaded with treasure (heavy encumbrance) and needs to climb 30' to reach a ledge to escape a charging pack of ghouls. While she could cautiously climb 6.4 feet per minute, she doesn't have that kind of time and opts to double her speed (the ghouls have about a 9' reach when jumping, so 12.8 feet should put her out of their reach). Her chance of failure is 27% (13 -4 = 9 x3 = 27). The point at which the character falls will be be 20% to 80% of the total distance of the move (2d4 x10%). Our cutpurse only intended to climb 30'; if she fails her roll and the die roll is a 6, she falls from 60% of the 30' (at the 18' mark), not 60% of the 60' she could have climbed. Adverse weather conditions (rain, snow, high wind) will probably increase the failure rate, and might force a check even when caution is exercised by the climber. A thief should be able to estimate the distance to her destination (i.e. the DM tells the player) in order to make a decision based on risk.

Steal item by stealth or sleight-of-hand: in Greyhawk, this bullet point becomes "filch items and pick pockets." The original is more openly defined. It still uses the same percentage chance as move silently, but it applies to the removal of any object desired "from the person of the owner or from his immediate vicinity." This is theft in plain sight...removing some item from a desk or table, adding something an individual's drink, slicing a purse, or removing a ring from the finger. Level should probably be some indication of the proximity of the thief to the victim and/or the number of prying eyes that may be observing the thief when she makes her move. Greyhawk reduces success by 5% for each level a victim is above 5th, but should this apply to hit dice as well? Would a 5th level magic-user really be more susceptible to a shell game than a 9HD hill giant? I don't think so. In this case, I'd actually use levels of experience only as most monsters are fairly stupid; an exception would be creatures with spell-casting ability: a djinni, for example, would be fooled at -15% and an efreet at -25% using hit dice in place of level.

Strike silently from behind: no, it isn't called "backstab." Gygax's original text on the subject seems to imply that a successful move silent roll would be needed to gain this advantage, though I would waive the necessity in the case of a surprised opponent assuming the thief was close enough to make a melee attack. The example target is a "man," but rather than assuming the need for a humanoid with a stab-worthy back, I'm going to make this a sneaky or underhanded critical strike against ANY living opponent (not a construct, plant, or undead type). Use the reduced damage found in Greyhawk, as I would guess the original got curbed in actual playtesting of the class. Note: this assumes a non-hostile or "on guard" opponent; a failed move silent check (remember this is the same chance as the misdirection/theft check) indicates the thief has shown her hand and is unable to catch the target unawares; roll for initiative immediately and proceed to combat.

Listen for noise behind a closed door: this is self-explanatory, though it will be discussed more in a future post that deals with exploration rules. Being a 1st level thief gives the character the same chance to hear noise as a pointy-eared demihuman; higher level increases this ability for all racial types.

Move with stealth: As far as simply "moving silently," a thief should always be assumed to be quiet but, when traveling with other types of adventurers, chance of surprising and being surprised is no different from normal. Otherwise (i.e. when solo) a move silent check need only be made when the thief comes in possible earshot of a potential antagonist; failure indicates the character has done something to give herself away (again, reverting to normal surprise chance). Movement is normal exploration speed based on the thief's encumbrance; a thief in a flight/pursuit situation (double movement) isn't concerned with being stealthy.

Hide in Shadows: the best saved for last (well, almost last). Per the original text, the percentage given is "the chance to remain undetected while hiding or moving through shadows." The stipulation for skill use is that the thief be unobserved when attempting to hide (and that there be shadows to hide within). While old, musty castles lit by candles or torches would probably have plenty of shadows, I would use this skill check for any attempt at the thief concealing herself while unobserved...standing behind a curtain, jumping in a wardrobe, hiding behind a piece of furniture, etc. Success (only checked when a potential observer enters the room...and only checked once!) indicates the thief has hidden herself so well as to remain undetected and (depending on the situation) can even move while remaining concealed. Failure would indicate the character is noticed, or gives herself away somehow, though that shouldn't negate the chance of the thief surprising the observer (checked normally). How long should the thief remain unobserved? Until she reveals herself, generally by attacking; the hiding ability in this way is very similar to invisibility. How fast can the hiding thief move? Assuming appropriate cover or distraction is available, as fast (and as far) as her cover and encumbrance allow.

This (finally) explains the combat example found on page 105 of the AD&D Players Handbook. A party of five adventurers surprise an illusionist with his band of 20 orcs; the thief uses the surprise segment to "dart to the rear of the party and attempt to hide in shadows." In the first round following, the thief uses the cover of the cleric's silence spell to move into melee range (the encounter occurred at a distance of 30') while "slinking and sliding around in the shadows." In the next round, the illusionist "does not hear the thief behind him," is stabbed in the back and dies; the final round has the thief entering normal melee with the orcs. This example ONLY makes sense in light of Gygax using his own earlier interpretations of the thief skills, as recorded in The Great Plains Gamer. Gygax makes it quite clear in the DMG that any movement on the part of the thief gives away a "hide," not to mention that the thief is unable to hide under either direct or indirect observation...no using a group of party members as cover to disappear! Furthermore, even the thief's "silent movement" is terribly slow, dropping to "exploration speed,"which is only one-tenth of normal melee speed; there is no way for a thief to sneak 30' in a single round using such rules (he'd have to have a movement rate of 30" to do so).

Bollux. I'll be using the OD&D rules (and the GPG 'zine examples) for my determination of how thief skills function. Hiding in shadows...a more difficult ability to execute than simple "stealthy movement"...functions as a minor form of invisibility, which (in my estimation) is how the skill was originally supposed to function. It cannot be used unobserved (though a suitable distraction might provide the moment to disappear), it requires some sort of cover for hiding (if only shadows cast by medieval illumination), it allows normal movement (so long as cover persists), and is lost upon attack. It's not necessarily effective in full darkness (seeing as how most monsters have some form of infravision which is only "spoiled" by the existence of a light source), but it could given suitable terrain for concealing the character (rock formations, etc.). Even the olfactory and audial senses of super-predators might be ineffective of discovering the thief: a monster might know someone was present, but not necessarily where. Springing from cover could still be a surprising circumstance (I'll write about that when I get to surprise in that later post I keep mentioning).

Okay, is that enough? I realize this post is incredibly long (I've been writing it since Tuesday morning). But is that enough definition to establish boundaries for the thief character's skills? I think so, but let me run over them really quick:

How fast a character can move while performing skills? Yes. When skills can be used and when they can't? Yes, I believe so. At what point a percentage check is made (and the consequences of failure)? Yes, with most consequences being "a return to normal rules."

The thief class allows a player to break (or modify) certain, specific game systems, much the same as magic spells. They can bypass locks without the need to force them or find keys. They can achieve surprise or evade pursuit or purloin items under observation. They can move vertically in an environment without the need for special equipment. They can acquire treasure items without setting off guardian traps. They can puzzle out coded treasure maps (mmm...still need to set up a percentile table) that might otherwise require a spell to decipher.

They do not read magic. Not unless magical writing is something that can be read with simple mundane training. Wizards require a spell to do the same, regardless of experience level or intelligence! I am discarding this "possible consideration."

Do thieves provide a method of challenging the player and giving the player an engaging experience? Yes: the class provides multiple small ways to interact with the game environment with the potential risk of failure. At higher levels, this risk is diminished, but the consequences of failure (presumably) increase. And the class occupies a niche that the other classes do not.

Okay, yeah...I am on board with adding thieves to my game. Now I just need to write them up in my ever-changing rule book.