Category: Design Theory (Page 1 of 2)

Design: On Character Development III

August 27, 2026 / TAFL / 0 Comments

This episode of brain dribbles actually looks at character generation, so should likely be titled as the first “On Character Development” piece. It just happens to be the third to make it into type, so what’m I gonna do?

This could probably be titled “On the Death of Attributes” as that’s the primary focus of the thoughts leading up to this. In OD&D, rolled attributes were used for very little. A prime requisite score lower than average would provide a penalty to accrued experience points and a prime requisite score higher than average would provide a bonus. Dexterity, Constitution, and Intelligence ratings could affect some specific abilities beyond that xp adjustment, though the attributes didn’t carry much mechanical heft. (Dungeons & Dragons, Book I: Men & Magic, page 11)

By the time AD&D rolled out, attributes carried much greater heft in mechanical terms. The range of bonuses expanded, the abilities to which those bonuses applied expanded, minimum scores were required to qualify for character classes. It was possible to generate a pair of characters of the same class that would have vastly different experiences in play due to one of them rolled poorly and gaining no bonuses and the other rolled well and thus having a much easier go from the outset. The urge for some differentiation resulted in built-in advantages garnered for some PCs, reducing the need for playing skills with those favored characters.

To truly focus on player skill, which is a foundational principle for old school play as I understand it, then ameliorating any significant built-in advantages or disadvantages rises in importance. At this point, I don’t see how involving the same degree of advantages to be gained via random rolls remains viable.

Couple that with the frustration of rolling a set of attributes only to use those to get a modifier that is actually used in mechanics and I’ve ended up where I am now: not gonna bother with attribute rolls. If there are to be modifiers to specific abilities, those need to be generated for those specific abilities without any intervening step.

So, I’ve done away with attributes as a defining aspect at character generation. Any bonuses to specific abilities will be assigned to those abilities directly, whether by random roll or player direction; a random roll may only indicate which set of discrete abilities the player may choose from to assign a bonus to. Limit the number of possible bonuses so a player can’t “win” at chargen and yet still allow for a bit of differentiation at the outset. It could also be a requirement that a bonus apply to one of the abilities important to a character class to qualify for that class.

Old School Hallmarks: Lethality

August 18, 2026 / TAFL / 0 Comments

Over on The RPG Cauldron we have a book club of sorts where we’re reading important blog posts from the heart of the OSR glory days and discuss those. The most recent of those (as of this post) is GusL’s post about lethality in old school games. It was worth a read when I first encountered it and was worth re-reading for the discussion in the book club,

This is what I responded with on the Cauldron:

“I think Gus just touched on the usefulness of mortality in old school play. Each and every incident that costs the PCs dearly helps train the players as to what doesn’t work well and provides a specific context to analyze as to what might have worked better. It provides a learning opportunity with harsh consequences that can provide greater feedback to the players about what works and what doesn’t, which one would hope would inform their play thereafter. “Remember when Ealdric died? We want to avoid that…” when considering activity in a similar situation.

“Those harsh outcomes also bring the setting into sharper focus. It becomes easier for players to gauge risks and judge the information they learn about locations and inhabitants with greater accuracy. The highly abstracted threat of reported giants, say, gets a bit less abstract in the wake of an incident where a few ogres battered half the party into goo. The equation of “Ogres tough = AVOID GIANTS” helps develop the flavor of the countryside in that part of the setting, with smart PCs either routing around the area or making extreme haste while traveling through or sneaking through at night or the like. Each of those different approaches to moving through the area can reveal more of the setting, which makes for a richer experience of the game world.

“The lethality also highlights the fact that player choices are of primary importance. When the PCs step out of the mold without much to set them apart from another of the same class, what ends up differentiating a legendary character in that campaign from the generally forgotten also-rans is both the longevity due to good choices and the added individual flavor and quirks that accrue due to being in play so long. The run-of-the-mill starting PCs become luminaries of the setting after ten levels of care and serendipity. It’s impossible to know at the outset what, exactly, is going to work to make a PC memorable; trying to plan that in advance simply isn’t possible to end up with a diagetically organic PC.”

I’ve also more thoughts on old school PCs. I’ve stated before (here) that old school PCs are differentiated in play and that the greater the specialization, the further one strays from old school ethos. I’ve a more nuanced take on that now, I reckon. I pointed out that the old school fighter is a fighter is a fighter and the more non-fighting stuff that gets added removes from that. I still think that adding a bunch of non-fighting abilities does weaken the archetype. I now also think that specializing fighters with fighting abilities still upholds old school precepts.

So, a fighter need *not* meet “a fighter is a fighter is a fighter” standards and still be a suitable example of the fighter archetype. I’ve been playing with sub-classes for quite a while and finding frustration when wanting to expand the basic class in this direction or that by adding capabilities that aren’t expressly fighting. Now, if all fighters share those non-fighting capabilities, then I can sign off on them; the problem was that many times they didn’t make sense for all of the possible sub-classes.

One of the long-standing issues I’ve had with D&D versions is that fighters arrive as equally adept with missile weapons as with melee weapons, and can hurl spears and axes with equal efficacy as sticking an opponent with said spear in hand. I recently came to terms with aligning the “a fighter isn’t a fighter is a fighter” from above and the notion that different fighting modes are fairly distinct by allowing that this fighter can be specialized in melee, that one in missile fire, and this other guy is dangerous at ten paces with what he throws. A soldier chucking plumbata at opoosing troops’ shields isn’t necessarily well-trained and effective with thrown weaponry, so having a fighter sub-class that is makes sense for some settings. And an archer specialist isn’t going to pick up a sword and not drop off in effectiveness in a fight (nor will a line soldier pick up a bow and place an arrow through a slit at 200 paces simply because they’re a seasoned sword fighter).

I’ve been sliding into this for some time, with sub-classes that offered some fighting abilities not available to all. Rangers possess basic fighter abilities plus specialized monster fighting; Paladins possess basic fighter abilities plus specialize in undead and demonic foes; warriors possess basic melee and hurled or missile abilities; and soldiers possess basic fighter abilities plus added melee abilities.

All of these sub-classes are thus instances of the fighter archetype. Each possesses all of the abilities of The Fighter. Each then also possesses fighting abilities in addition to highlight different ways in which the archetype gets expressed. It remains an old school approach, because all the fighters still fight, and then the sub-class fighters are all “a ranger is a ranger is a ranger” with the differentiation between rangers arising in play.

All of that seems obvious now, though it took quite a while for it to click in my head to where I understand how it all fits together and why. It’s that moment of epiphany that makes the information so much easier to work with and the projects involved then become easier to craft.

Old School Hallmarks: Inventory

August 4, 2026 / TAFL / 0 Comments

I finally realized what left me perpetually unconvinced about notions that requiring players to detail what gear the PCs carry is unimportant. I’m now completely convinced that tracking inventory to some degree is a hallmark of old school play…and understand why I have that conviction.

I read yet another post or comment on one of the many fora dedicated to discussing RPGs that maintained that tracking gear is better observed in the breach, and among other comments in the discussion were a couple advocating for quantum supplies because somehow it’s not a fair challenge to expect players to be able to guess the right equipment to have PCs carry.

That’s when my longstanding denial of that notion finally crystalized and I can now explain it. Inventory tracking doesn’t involve a challenge of predicting what equipment to carry while adventuring. The challenge in old school play lies in using the gear being carried in creative fashion to help solve problems confronting the PCs. It’s not a question of “what did you bring?” so much as it’s a question of “how will you use what you brought?” How will you use that and what you can find nearby? You brought a holocaust cloak? There’s a wheelbarrow in the hollow tree? Well, now we’ve got a plan coming together….

Tracking inventory isn’t just about forcing hard choices about what’s most important to carry. It also forces players to get creative use out of the items the PCs do carry to overcome challenges that arise in play. Lengths of rope are almost always useful in some fashion. Twine, though — is it worth carrying a bundle of twine? What about thread? Chain? All of those could prove useful at some point. Iron spikes, silver stakes, wooden stakes — some of each or just of one? How many? And so on.

The decisions made in packing for adventure should be important. Those decisions should be laying the foundations for possible solutions to challenges. That means it’s important to force those decisions on players as part of playing the roles of the PCs and facing the challenges of play.

Design: Surprise, Redux

August 1, 2026 / TAFL / 0 Comments

I’ve already given some thoughts on the topic that can be found here:

Design: Surprise

I just recently got back to those rules with an eye collecting all the principles behind them for a master file to refer to when writing the rules for all three of my projects. I also want to get them finished and released soon, so they’re out of my head and in the wild where other people can freely use and abuse them and provide me with feedback.

One change I can report immediately is that I’ve dropped the use of “phase” when referring to surprise, and now think in terms of “beats.” I think it works better to think of that time passing in that fashion by removing the association with discrete measures of time. This first occured to me when working on the GG project and needing a good way to describe the progression of action in that project.

I’ve reorganized the Surprise rules to better focus them on “how to.” Peeling away the layer of description that provided the whys and wherefores has been slow, although I think it absolutely necessary. I have a pronounced tendency to explain the reasoning behind rules instead of offering “just the facts” and it’s something that I have to work hard to stymie.

The reorganization also helped clarify what I want surprise rules to do. The encounter system should shuffle some basic information about an encounter to the surprise sub-system — and this is key — to first check to see if a surprise situation is possible and/or desirable for the encounter. That’s something that I find missing from the traditional surprise rules, where the sub-system is assumed to be part of every encounter. It explains all those encounters in play where the parties are too far apart for it to make a difference.

The traditional rules also ignore differences in sensory abilities between the two, leaving that entirely, without guidance, to GMs. I’ve had players act surprised (!) when their PCs couldn’t surprise creatures that were able to smell the PCs well before the two groups got close enough for the PCs to notice the other. They’d never considered scent to be a factor because they’d never read it in the rules.

The first thing I’ve designed my surprise rules sub-system to do, then, is to determine whether surprise can even be a significant factor in an encounter. I’m not going to bother checking for surprise if it isn’t. Are the groups close enough to actually engage in some fashion when one notices the other (or they each notice the other)? That depends on sensory abilities and limits provided by terrain and weather and such, first, and then considerations of engagement and interaction based on the proximity, next. If the parties can’t launch missiles or spells and can’t close to bash each others’ heads, then surprise just isn’t something I care to add to the situation.

I’ve also wondered why the traditional rules want the encounter system to provide one distance for an encounter and then change that distance if one or the other is surprised. I want the encounter system to determine the distance based on sensory limits, then the surprise system can determine if surprise adds anything to the encounter based on that distance. When the nothing burger of both sides being surprised is tossed in at distances where no real engagement is possible anyway…well, that’s nonsense I want to step away from.

So the surprise rules should first check to make certain surprise is possible and would have a significant effect on an encounter. After that, then the details of surprise checks appear, with modifiers to the checks, how many beats of surprise result, and anything that could affect the number of beats for individuals.

I also think the lack of what surprise entails in terms of limitations on actions, for both the surprised and unsurprised, is a failing of the traditional rules. Does being surprised affect saving throws? A PC surprised by a dragon and getting toasted isn’t as likely to save as an unsurprised PC, I reckon, and this sort of thing is unaddressed in the traditional rules (thus relegated entirely to table rulings by default, as with so many other things). I want to provide some guidelines for what being surprised entails in more detail.

Same for being unsurprised and taking actions. What are the limits on movement — charging, sneaking, fleeing? How are attacks limited — in number and/or targeting? Casting spells, using items, loading missile weapons…how are the unsurprised beings limited? Expressly laying out some general rules helps GMs make rulings in the edge cases.

That rough draft is obviously obsolete now. I can say that the 2D6 check is still good. All other parts may have been revamped, though, as I’ve picked through it all and put it through its paces. I’ll offer the roll results again, for those who don’t want to click through to the other post.

* Roll of 2 or 3: surprised for three beats

* Roll of 4: surprised for two beats

* Roll of 5: surprised for one beat

* Roll of 6+: not surprised

Design: Fighting

June 30, 2026 / TAFL / 0 Comments

For many people, it seems, combat is the first sub-system that they read in depth and figure out how it plays in comparison to systems they already know. I’m not among them, as I find other sub-systems more important to my understanding of a new game system, plus I figure I can change out what parts of the combat system I need to to fit my preferences after I’ve played with RAW for a bit.

I have a bit of a luxury, as a designer, with having three projects in progress at once…three projects that are similar in genre and feel, that is, I can work from a set of general principles and flesh those out in three different detailed fashions. I’ll be laying out those principles in another post, though, as this post is actually about how asking questions makes the design wheels go ’round.

A Question That Started a Cascade

I recently had a question come to mind when I was considering armor and how I most want to present its use in the abstractions of the systems. The question was rather basic and seemed obvious in hindsight, though I don’t recall ever having considered it before. Asking that question led me into a bunch of other questions about some basic issues, though, and in a most constructive fashion.

The question: What if we think of armor ratings as what the armor allows through?

Now, I’ve not worked out any way to actually use ratings in that fashion without involving more rolls and steps than I want. I considered dice steps to reflect the damage weapons could do versus the armor — D4 vs heavy armor, D6 vs medium armor, D8 vs light armor, for a simple “armor as damage resistance” approach — and that immediately brought some problems along with it. I don’t see some players handling that well, at all, and it could prove to be a headache for GMs. There’s also the issue that the approach is really nothing more than “armor subtracts damage” in a way that requires more work.

That Leads to Considering Wounds….

What that question and the resulting line of thought did do was lead to more fruitful fields. “Well,” I asked myself, “What does armor allow through on a successful strike?” That led to a consideration of exactly how the game abstraction includes the notion of damage and its effects, how such things are represented and gauged in the system, and what difference the armor can make in all of that. With the DA system, I’m riffing on D&D heavily and paring down hit point totals, with wounds stepping in to do the heavy lifting. The other two systems were conceived with wounds as a primary way to gauge harm.

Wounding is an aspect of damage that I’ve been playing with for quite some time, and working out how different armors can affect inflicting wounds is a design problem I find fascinating. The effects individual wounds can have on a combatant, how long it takes to heal from wounds, what exact effects wounds can and should have — all that is important to work through to provide the desired experience in play.

…And The Weapon Effects…

I also expect I’ll have armor affect any special effects a weapon can inflict. A weapon that can readily stun a target with a successful strike can have that effect made less likely by some types of armor, I think. I also think I can work out how the weapon effects and armor interact in a way that works for the play flow I desire, so I’m going to be experimenting with those interactions.

I also have to deal with how armor and shields affect what PCs can do, how their movements are affected in the wearing. Having a large shield in hand can limit some moves a great deal, for example. I expect most standard fighting movement can take place as usual (though heavy armor may make it more tiring), so it’s the unusual movement that can be affected. Working out what the unusual movements modeled in the abstraction and how they get affected in detail is an interesting problem.

…On To Shield Use…

So, what is it shields actually do? This is an important question when it comes to the abstraction. D&D uses them mostly as just a modifier to AC. Stepping away from that particular “determines difficulty to strike” approach means answering this question is an important consideration.

So, in my systems, should shields increase defensive ratings? How would this vary by number of foes being engaged? How are missiles treated when compared to melee?

If armor is reducing damage from attacks, do shields play a part in that reduction?

Does shield use affect any offensive techniques? Does it add any? Bashes, edge strikes, thrown shields?

Does shield use affect any defensive actions?

There’s a bit more that arose in response to the orginal question. The cascading questions that follow from one simple query is part of what makes designing systems so interesting, for me. And I get to work out a general response that then gets detailed in three most likely different ways.

Design: Saving Throws

June 10, 2026 / TAFL / 0 Comments

I think I’ve finally figured out why I much prefer saving throws in the traditional lineup rather than any of the single saving throw or three throw systems. It came to me when I was reading a post somewhere about how some folks prefer just using ability checks instead of saving throws — that’s when it clicked.

I don’t view saving throws as simple attribute checks. The attributes are used in deciding much of the character’s capabilities, sure (though far too much in modern systems, I think). So, the attributes are what are used to help keep the character from having to make saving throws. Why should they also then be used a second time after failing the first, so to speak? The saving throws, I reckon, are what can save a PC’s carcass when their attribute-based abilities have failed. Thus, saving throws shouldn’t properly be just another check of what failed prior.

The concept comes from minis play, where individual character attributes don’t come into play, so there’s nothing inherent in the origins that would lead to simply making attribute checks instead. Saves in D&D have varied from class to class, which makes for some interesting variety when faced with the specific hazards and challenges that saving throws address, and I see no convincing reason to toss that approach out.

I’ll be using saving throws with such class variance in my systems. I’ll be using throws in the same fashion as the traditional throws — so vs specific types of effects — and I’ve also added a sixth saving throw category. I’ve wavered back and forth as to whether to allow attributes to provide bonuses to saves and have finally settled on not allowing that. Saves are class-based and can be modified by circumstance, with attributes not being a factor.

Saving Throws :

: Save vs Corruption (Death, Poison)

: Save vs Metamorphosis (Paralysis, Petrification)

: Save vs Instrument (Rods, Staves, & Wands)

: Save vs Inundation (Breath Weapon)

: Save vs Imposition (Illusions, Phantasms, Charm)

: Save vs Workings (General Spells)

Design: On Character Development II

June 1, 2026 / TAFL / 0 Comments

I spoke about PC development here: https://osrpgtalk.net/design-on-character-development/ and this is a continuation of that.

I mentioned the four tiers I think of when I consider character development in my projects. I think a closer look at what those entail is warranted, along with the expected types of development for each. As with everything in my projects, it’s all highly malleable until it isn’t, though that “isn’t” state won’t appear until the final published versions are released into the wild (and additional feedback may change things up even after).

Beginning PCs have established themselves as exemplary in their fields of endeavor. They’re experienced, consistent, and have shown greater capacity than their peers. Thus, they’re not beginning play as “zeroes” in a “zero to hero” process. As mentioned before, they’re beginning as competent performers and develop into reknowned experts.

Ways this shows up, using the D20-based project that riffs on B/X and AD&D as a reference:

PCs have 0-lvl hp (4-6 hp) and then 1st-lvl hp added to those. Players won’t have to worry about PCs being one-shot by the most basic of foes, though tangling with an ogre still has them in peril of a quick death. A wizard PC will begin with 7 or 8 hp on average, with a fighter having 10 or 11, so a foe striking and doing a D6 damage isn’t likely to be a single-round threat to mortality. (The system also works to reduce hp bloat at higher levels, so the starting hp are a larger portion of what their max hp will end up.)
PCs begin with larger bonuses to their primary abilities. Fighters, for instance, aren’t beginning with the same chances to hit as all other PCs, they have bonuses that are noticeably better; where other classes have a +0 bonus to hit at the outset, a fighter will have a +2 to +4 bonus, depending on sub-class and which fighting ability is being considered (melee or missile). Fighters are better at fighting in every way from the outset.
The notable competence extends to many discrete abilities. PCs have a qualitative advantage in class-related abilities when compared to PCs of other classes. A sneaky PC class not only has a bonus to sneaking that other classes lack, but can move more quickly while sneaking.

Now that I’m nailing down sub-systems for playtesting, I’ve been considering exactly what sort of development happens at each tier. This has involved considering when the development needed for each tier actually happens, too –does it all happen prior to reaching that tier or during that tier? When do I expect the character to possess those capabilities? Then, do the abilities show up full-blown, that is, at full capacity and never improving, or do they also develop over time much the same as hit points?

As these are old school systems, I’m inclined to assign improvements in batches at set points instead of having them accumulate in dribbles with something new each level. So fighters begin with the ability to sweep, cleave, sunder, and such at 1st level. Those basic feats/abilities don’t accumulate here and there over time, they’re just part of the basic class abilities for fighters. When new abilities appear, those will arrive in similar bundles reflecting the regular training and experience at that point in development. The system isn’t about the details of how characters gain skills, the system is interested in how the players avail themselves of new capabilities at that point in the character’s life.

I’ve been commenting on fighter development because I’ve been working on that lately to get ready for broader testing. I’ve postulated a great many abilities for the fighter class/sub-classes with an eye to paring back after receiving feedback on them. I expect that I’ve pumped up the class with more than it needs to be viable and interesting, so not all of what’s current will survive to publication. I do know that my take on the fighter won’t be (credibly) criticized as being under-powered.

First Tier

The first tier of play sets a PC up with all of the basic abilities the PC will need throughout the campaign. Fighters will have basic stunts available. Wizards will have basic casting and countering and knowledge skills. A scout will have all of the basic abilities needed for successful travel — orienteering and wayfinding and camping. No PC should have to wait for essential abilities, they should have a full toolset to work with during the first tier.

That first tier is also the time in play when a PC gains notoriety for personal ability and begins to develop bonds in play within the setting. I expect a good deal of diagetic development to happen in a campaign, and it begins right out of the gate. PCs begin building reputations and come to the attention of the movers and shakers in the world around them (for better or worse). That diagetic development is important within the campaign because the diagetic can get supported mechanically later by the system. (I figure the best way to support diagetic development is to merge it with mechanical development in some fashion.)

Second Tier

The PCs now branch out a bit and begin establishing strong bonds with a social network. The seeds of future political clout are planted. Whether the player wants the PC to primarily adventure when name level and above or to primarily administer a holding (or guild or academy or whatever). The PCs have established themselves as notable in a region and voted Most Likely to Become Movers & Shakers.

Note that diagetic ties to NPCs are not automatically scoring mechanical support. The mechanical support, I think, should be limited to few of these diagetic relationships, so players should choose carefully which to lock in mechanically. I’m also still uncertain as to what form that mechanical support should take.

A fighter, in D&D, fourth level is where the PC becomes a Hero — the fighting equivalent of four normal men. That allows for attacking multiple creatures with less than four HD each round, an ability that allows a hero to cut through mobs of basic foes. Each PC class can gain a likewise-useful ability to help deal with advancing through this tier

Third Tier

This is the tier that leads to name level (which is tenth level in these systems). It’s where I think the development should move beyond class-based abilities. It’s when players get to prepare PCs for high-level play without simply being locked into larger numbers of the same ol’ class abilities. Sure, an ability that can support class play whether the PC stays focused on adventuring or becomes a domain ruler would be welcome, so there should be one or two for each class.

Development should be able to move beyond that, though. PCs should be able to gain abilities that aren’t directly related to character class and prime the PCs for continued play at high levels. Becoming conversant with portals for travel to other planes, for example, or learning how to navigate the astral seas in specialized ships. I’m still brainstorming what can/should be available at this point; the abilities need to be useful without providing superpowers of any sort.

Fourth Tier

Well, if we’ve already developed capabilities for high-level play, what else is left? I think at this point, players should be able to fine tune their PCs. To that end, I plan to allow the deprecation of some abilities to replace them with different abilities. That may take the form of taking a reduction in capability with some class abilities to boost other abilities or to gain entirely new abilities. The breadth of capabilities possessed by a PC should be far beyond what they had at the outset.

Development of any domain/organization should be part of this stage of character play, too, of course. What’s been built needs to be maintained and improved.

I think the option to level beyond this is absolutely cooked into the process. The accumulation of hp and attack bonuses and all that ended at an earlier tier. All the development in this last tier involves reduction of some capabilities and the addition of others. I see no reason why that couldn’t continue for as long as the GM allows for it, as each new level only changes capabilities a bit without adding increased bonuses.

No Zero-to-Hero

I think it better to describe this development as “competent to expert” with “exploring new realms” on top of it. At no point should the PCs be barely competent enough to wander outside their towns and encounter the wilds of the setting. At no point should the PCs be possessed of superpowers that make them near-invincible. Building expertise and then expanding expertise makes the most sense to me.

Design: On Character Development

April 9, 2026 / TAFL / 0 Comments

When considering the development of Player Characters, I find myself ambivalent about many elements of development. I’ll just offer general thoughts here, despite dealing with three different systems. It may be best to look at all this through the context of Dangerous Adventures, my riff on B/X and AD&D. There’s a great deal here that originated when considering how to tweak those rules to better fit my preferences, plus the underlying considerations affect the Legendary Journeys system and likely the third system, too.

• I have no interest in designing a system that allows or supports the notion of character builds. The games I play aren’t all about characters, which is an effect of that approach, and optimizing a character for the entirety of its lifecycle during chargen is definitely not allowing for much in the way of diagetic development.

• With that said, I do want to offer players a way to customize a character in some small way. This may be limited to how they kit the character out and little else, yet there should be a way to differentiate characters of a like class with just a glance.

• I’m planning for four tiers of PC development: lvls 1 – 3; lvls 4 – 6; lvls 7 – 9; and lvls 10 – 12. This is, of course, an organizational notion to help me when I’m considering how the PCs develop. They begin as notable figures on a local scenehaving established themselves as capable figures that others will call on for assistance. Then they begin to surround themselves with henchmen and cronies and expand their capabilities to be helpful. They then become notable allies to have on a grander scale, with wealthy and noble persons looking to them about important matters. They finally become movers & shakers unto themselves, as important in the political realm as in the arenas of the mythic wilderness and the mythic underground.

• I’m pondering whether or not to add another tier to that stack. I can vaguely see ways to make those higher levels interesting without the PCs simply being superheroes in fantasy suits. I’ll have to be able to spend much more time on that, though, and that’ll have to wait until I get the bulk of the system(s) in working drafts.

• I want PC development to be both vertical and horizontal. The numbers shouldn’t just get larger on abilities. There’s a lot of number bloat that I’ve taken measures to limit over the years that I’ll simply design out of these systems.The DA system uses hit points, in a manner much like its inspirations do. No PC in DA will have hp numbers near what high level PCs in those systems do, as DA PCs only roll for more hp for a handful of levels. The dice rolled also help limit how many hp can accumulate.

• I want PCs to develop new abilities that expand their capabilities as they grow, though not to the point where they get something new each level. Something for each tier, OK.

• I’m also looking at allowing for some abilities to be diminished over time and new abilities developed in their place. This may be the most significant part of customizing a character that I’ll use. As PCs grow, they can shed some bonuses to abilities possessed to add a new ability. (It may be this sort of development choice that differentiates how the player approaches high-level play, whether as a domain ruler or as a hero called on for further adventuring challenges.)

• As that last point mentioned, I’m trying to hash out the details of how a player can choose to either play a domain ruler at high levels or continue on as an adventurer, primarily. The assumption of the early fantasy system designers was that PCs would advance to become rulers and raise armies for the sort of wargames the RPGs descended from. That assumption hasn’t been valid for ages.

• For all the comments about higher levels, I’m not neglecting beginning PCs. The notion that all beginning PCs are some degree of frail is problematic. When compared to 0-lvl people, sure, the PCs have at least some slight edge. When compared to what they can confront when venturing forth, though, they can seem a bit puny. I think adding a bit more competence at the outset can only help; beginning hp are higher (adding 1st lvl hp to existing 0-lvl hp) and a bit more competence (such as fighters having a better to hit bonus at the outset). No “zero to hero” development — “competent to expert” is the goal.

• One way to look at my goals is this: I want to expand the “sweet spot” of character levels in play. Many folks find play with character levels 3 to 7 preferable because the PCs are strong enough to take on a wider array of challenges at the low end and not yet too complex or powerful to enjoy at the high end. If I can expand that to lvls 1 to 9 for many of those players, I’d be satisfied. PCs that aren’t viewed as frail as the outset and not overwhelming at the higher end would be a very good thing, I think.

Some of what I’ve mentioned in here is already sketched out. Some of it is still very much in my head. There are also some elements that I have planned that I’m leery of hard coding into rules (such as gaining titles and other diagetic rewards). I’ll probably have more thoughts to spill as I work through it all.

Design: Characters

April 6, 2026 / TAFL / 0 Comments

At the heart of the player experience in RPGs is the Player Character. One can argue that the rules surrounding PCs can make or break a system, with those rules being what ties the player into the game at the table. I wouldn’t argue that notion is wrong, though it might not be the whole of the measure. The ins and outs of PCs, however, do a lot of work in a game system.

Help Define the Setting

What character classes are available for play provide a look at the setting, the game world. The archetypes and expressions of those archetypes provide information on what goes on in the setting, and what is important to how the world operates. OD&D’s three possible archetypes –fighting man, cleric, and magic user– tell us that the world has lots of fighting, religious orders that also fight, and a community of wizards who actively seek out new information and materials. These archetypes are lightly defined, leaving it to individual tables as to whether fighting men can be knights or mercenaries, light foot soldiers, heavily armored troopers, and so forth. This allows for the GM to provide guidance to players to get PCs that fit the GM’s world.

So, while the system rules don’t offer much in the way of defining the setting, the GM can certainly do so by informing the players what sorts of fighters can be played and tying them into the world. The GM establishes the flavor of the world by offering horse archers, light footmen, heavy infantry houseguards, lancers, and so forth.

Tools For Play

The character classes provide players with tools to use in play. Each ability possessed by a PC is a tool the player can use in overcoming challenges. This isn’t to say that the PC abilities should be providing simple solutions to challenges –proverbial EASY buttons– but provide the type of abilities to bring to bear that such a character would. The abilities shouldn’t provide immediate answers to challenges, just tools that can be used with ingenuity in addressing those challenges.

As mentioned above, a class provides abilities available to the PC/player to use to overcome challenges in play. A class definition limits what abilities the PC is best at to those that serve their role in the setting, and thus in the game. Fighters are good at fighting to some degree, better than those PCs who aren’t fighters. The magicians wield magic, which the other classes don’t. There are sub-classes with abilities to sneak around more effective than other people, while Paladins are more effective at battling and destroying undead than everybody else. A key element is that characters are better at what their classes do than characters who belong to other classes. I look to make each class both qualitatively better and quantitatively better at their specialties than those who aren’t of the same class. That also indicates that characters of other classes can certainly do at least some of the same things –sneak around, fight undead, hunt critters– though not with the same competence as the specialists.

Consider a snoop, for example. A snoop is quite competent at breaking & entering and sneaking around in dark places to find items without being detected. So, when it comes to climbing a rope or wall, a snoop is less likely to fall –a quantitative difference– and able to also move more quickly than others –a qualitative difference. Players are able to have their PCs attempt actions outside their specialties; it’s expected as a normal part of play.

In My Projects

In my projects, I’m using character class constructs in exactly these fashions. The range of character sub-classes offer insight as to how the world operates. There is no generic fighter, for example; there are multiple sub-classes that fill roles in the societies in which they arise. There are experienced soldiers notable for their capabilities, the Stalwart. There are Troopers, the mounted cavalry. Barbarians come from less-“civilized” lands and are adept with both melee and missile weapons. Rangers are specialized hunters of monsters. Paladins hunt undead and lay them to rest.

These last two sub-classes highlight that monsters are a common issue in the setting that has to be dealt with, to the point where specialized roles have been created and there are people who step into those roles to protect the lands of the human (and human-like) peoples.

Even among those sub-classes there can be further differentiation via character kits. A mobile light infrantry skirmisher is different than a soldier of the line is different than a member of a noble’s houseguard. Different weapons, armors, approaches to combat, and different organizations they operate in can provide a myriad of ways the character is tied into the setting.

There are also Scouts of more than one type. Delvers, often derided as tomb robbers. Snoops for hire by the wealthy to spy on rivals. Hunters who know their local landscapes well and trade in furs and carcasses. Guides who know the routes connecting the settlements and lead caravans and expeditions.

There are then magicians of varied sort. Witches, who draw on primal powers and work within the weave of the natural world. Wizards, who take a more scholarly, abstracted approach to working. And Enchanters, who create illusions and draw out horrors from others’ minds.

Each of the three projects underway offer up these three classes and at least most of the sub-classes. Two of them also offer an assortment of Raconteurs, with priests, friars, bards, and other performers available to provide characters better-suited to social interactions.

I’ve already posted a draft of a Witch class (https://osrpgtalk.net/first-look-at-a-witch-class/) and have sketches of other classes underway.

Design: Exploring

April 5, 2026 / TAFL / 0 Comments

Exploration is a staple of fantasy RPG adventuring. From the earliest rules drafts onward, exploring underground complexes has been present. Later expansion of the system added exploring wilderness to the mix, so PCs could explore the great outdoors, find a musty old dungeon, and then explore the hole in the ground. The basic play loop in the rules has always been that of “Leave Home –> Explore –> Return Home” lather, rinse, repeat. With that in mind, I’d like to look at exploration closely, with an eye on figuring out what’s important to the play experience when exploring to try to capture that in my projects.

First, of course, we’ll have to break exploration into discrete units of activity, as I don’t think dungeon exploration and wilderness exploration share enough similarities to share a unified process. There are some major differences that warrant treating them individually despire shared concerns between them. I’m also leaning into additional exploration fields (dreamscapes, faery, etc.) and expect those to also have some significant differences when compared to sneaking around in dark tunnels.

Dungeon Exploration

Fantasy RPGs began in dungeons, so I think it fitting to begin by examining exploration of dungeons. What is that drives characters to delve in the darkness and hazard the risks of going there? Or, properly, what is it that leads players to want to have characters who adventure there? What are the game experiences that entice players to play in these imaginary spaces?

I think, at a fundamental level, is the draw of a world similar to ours and yet filled with wondrous things that ours isn’t. Many of those wondrous beings, items, or events simply don’t or can’t happen in our mundane existence and provide both relief from mundaneity and the promise and challenge of novelty. Even with the dozenth iteration of a magical fountain, the very idea of a magical fountain remains something new enough to warrant wonder.

So many of these wondrous things also involve a challenge to us as thinking creatures. How will we overcome the struggle before us to achieve our ends? Let us marshall our tools, gather our wits, and figure out an approach to surmount the odds and prevail. Can we bludgeon our way through? Slip surreptitiously past it? Undermine its operations so it falls apart? Negotiate a way past? The game situation allows us to stretch our problem-solving abilities beyond the boundaries of our personal capabilities via PC abilities and belongings.

The dungeon offers us myraid ways to engage in the wonders and challenges of a fantasy setting. There are puzzles to be solved to find a hidden vault or open its portal, and clues to be found and pondered to reach a solution. Traps that can be the demise of the unwary, if warning hints are ignored or misread. Tricks to be overcome when they lead us astray and waste our time and resources. Then there are treasures, both obvious and not, that promise riches and reknown and influence, if we should be able to return home with them.

All of this while mucking about in the dark with the possibility of monstrous creatures lurching out of the shadow seeking to devour our bodies and sometimes our souls. All of the nightmares of our primoridal psyche on display in flesh and bone and dripping blood from fang and claw. We get to confront horrors and walk –or limp– away to tell the tale.

The feel of those encounters arises from few things. The PCs –and thus the players, vicariously– are in an unknown environment. Their primary sense, sight, is limited by the pervailing darkness, and other senses can be readily overwhelmed by strange scents, echoing sound, and the strange airs found in the underworld. It’s easy to get turned around and about and to lose grasp of the way back to safety.

The PCs also have limited resources. They can rely only on themselves and what they can carry with them (the best argument for encumbrance rules, I say) while struggling against the dark and the horrors it contains. They’re likely to have only the water they carry to maintain hydration and foods they carry to maintain energy. The very extertion of moving around can drain them to where everything becomes more difficult. Maintaining peak performance is a challenge in itself.

It’s my opinion that the constraints of the latter limits emphasize the joys of the former. That is, the shiny wonders shine brighter when contrasted with the strain of the darkness. The challenge of design, I think, lies in balancing the two — how intrusive to make the strain of resource management balanced against the brightness of the challenges.

Wilderness Exploration

Exploring in the wilderness can be an express investigation or happen merely by moving through an area. I’ve still yet to sort the finer points of the two so I can decide if the procedures are exactly the same or if there’s some difference that is worth making apparent in the rules. The broad strokes of each are the same, though.

I find a lot of value in the approach of having Landmarks, Hidden POIs, and Secret POIs in any given hex/area of the lands being moved through. The hidden and the secret, of course, are only found by exploring as part of the move through the area. The hidden are off the natural path of travel –a road, well-worn trail, along a river or stream, or route following the base of hills (instead of trying to climb over them)– and can be found easily by leaving that path. The secret need to be sought out with greater effort, poking about in copses and hollows and all places that are impervious to casual view.

I think there are several instances that can make travel interesting. All of the things that serve to make dungeons interesting can also make wilderness interesting, with the understanding that the wilderness can provide an abundance of events and encounters and places that a dungeon is hard-pressed to match. For each magical fountain in a dungeon, the wilderness can offer up numerous magical pools, springs, ponds, streams, wells, and fountains. For each portal into the mythical underworld found in a dungeon, the wilderness can host multiple openings into the realms of faery, the elder world, alternate times, spiritworlds, and other planes; the fantastic wilds are numerous and dangerous.

The wilds are full of homegrown beasties and those of all the other places that can attach to it. For every great cat protecting its territory, there can be an incursion from elsewhere or elsewhen providing a different form of danger. The machinations of faery courts can spill out into the mortal realm. Travellers from other planes with malicious intent can act against the beings that call this world home.

So, it’s possible to have a near-constant appearance of events and encounters to liven up play in the wilds. Wizard weather –powerful storms– can bring entities across the veils between worlds, ancient sites of power can erupt into action according to astral alignments, malignant spirits can inhabit fens and copses and areas around tombs and shrines can be host to dark forces. All of the interesting parts of dungeon exploration are possible in the wilderness.

The same aspects of dungeon exploration that create tension and highlight the satisfaction of encountering the challenges also appear in wilderness play. Expeditions are limited in the supplies they can transport, so decisions about what gear to carry come to play. Gathering supplies from the surroundings is a choice, balanced against the time it takes to do so; that extra time means extra exposure to the elements and the hazards of travel, with an extra day on the trail possibly leading to catastrophe. Spending extra time in a haunted wood with malicious spirits is a recipe for distress, at the least. PCs unable to find rest and recovery are then easier pickings for hostile forces later along the trail.

There is the darkness of night to negotiate, complete with the creatures that prefer darkness. Daylight brings respite from the dark, though with a different roster of dangers and choices possible to keep the characters successful in their travels.

Faery Exploration

Then there are the otherworldly spaces to explore. These can offer different challenges and change up the procedures for maintaining supply. Hunting in Faery can be quite different than hunting in a typical forest. Gathering plants much the same. Players can find that simply maintaining food and water supplies can be more difficult in a different plane/world.

Time can be variable, with a foray in another world resulting in much time elapsing in the PCs’ home world, or spend days wandering in another place only to return an hour later to where they left. The geography of another world can vary as the characters move about. The players may have to figure out how to return to the home world with the opening between worlds closing behind them. Getting drawn into another world when having a deadline into the home world is problematic and increases the challenge for players.

The elements of exploration are generally similar from one environment to the next. The differences are likely enough to warrant procedures for each to help them feel different in play. I think that finding the basic demands of managing resources a bit different in each context will be a way to provide a contrast in flavor, as will the details of the nature of what’s encountered.