Words from a grognard

Category: Uncategorized (Page 1 of 4)

A Modularity Project

As many, many GMs in OSR/NSR circles report swapping out bits from one system to use with another, I think it only reasonable that there are lots of folks who would love a compendium or compendiums that provide multiple alternatives for specific sub-systems.

I’m certainly not the first person to think such would be useful. I think my little useful bit to add to the idea is that such a compendium would be most useful if it provided a Creative Commons that allows for copypasta usage for any purpose. As in “You like this? Copy these word straight into your manuscript” as an expected usage. Shoot, provide text downloads, even (though some pricing to help with hosting and bandwidth costs).

As I find myself sketching out such alternative sub-systems regularly, I think I could certainly contribute to such a project. I’m currently hashing out an alternative combat approach for OSE/OSRIC that involves a tick system using weapon speeds and casting times. I don’t really expect to use it in any of my systems–at least, any time soon–and would be happy to see it used by others. My overflow of usable ideas isn’t constrained to combat systems, either, so I’d be happy to contribute to collections of other sub-systems, too.

If I can find a couple of other people interested in such collections, I might start on a layout bible so they all appear consistently. I enjoy making master pages in Affinity Publisher, and I’m happy to share those, too. Let’s get more people creating their best systems using ideas from wherever they can find them.

PCs Helping PCs

I’ve never been enamored of the rules offered up for when one PC is attempting something and other PCs want to help with it.The first PC getting a general bonus from the added body (or bodies) just because has always thrown me out of the fantasy because it strains credulity. This feels odd because I’m all for players trying to figure out ways to make actions easier to succeed with.

Those ways to increase success, though, have to fit diagetically for me to enjoy their use. It’s not just somebody saying “Oh, I’ll help” and an instant bonus appears. There has to be an explanation that shows the helper can, you know, actually help.

I’m also not sold on such help providing a bonus to success. I think in many instances, help can only happen in such ways that would speed an effort, not necessarily make it more likely to succeed. Or perhaps it would help in generating extra effect, such as in a larger pile of material moved/made/whatever in the effort.

I reckon it would behoove designers to lay out standards for PCs assiting each other that require diagetic description of the aid and how that actually works in effect, whether as a bonus to success odds or time required or so on. There’s likely a concise way to discuss all this, and when I figure it out, I’ll revisit this post.

What Makes Up the Old School?

A post on Reddit sparked a bit of thought. One of the folks commenting–could have been the OP, perhaps not, I don’t recall–offered up three things they thought underpinned the OSR. Now, I’m not exactly an OSR gamer. I hang out in the OSR because that’s the closest organized (!?) community to my preference for old school, classic style play.My thoughts, then, wandered off in the direction of what the fundamentals of old school play are that I observe as properly old school.

The first point offered they offered up was about the rules. I agree that the rules for a system are important in providing an old school feel. One distinction I recall discussing decades ago was the difference between task resolution and conflict resolution in mechanics, for example.

The OG approach was to focus on resolving tasks without regard to any narrative concerns about conflict or storyline. One example of the difference involved the PCs cracking open a safe or treasure chest in one location looking for a unique item. An old school approach would have the presence or absence of the item completely divorced from the task of opening the cache. That was contrasted to the conflict- or narrative-resolution system where the success of the PCs in opening the cache meant that the item was there, because the nature of the check was about that specific item instead of just opening a complex lock.

Old school rules present a fundamental simulation of a world/setting. At their core, the rules all work to provide a sense of a consistent setting, with changes in expectations–magic, anyone?–made explicit and players assumed to be using their understanding of real world cause & effect for anything not explicitly laid out as violating those expectations. In a real world scenario, players could only expect the McGuffin to be in the cache if they knew for certain it was there; if they only suspected it could be there, they understood it might not be if they succeeded in opening it.

The rules work to ground the characters and everything they do in a consistent world, with boundaries around capabilities. The system explains what PCs can do with relative certainty so the players can understand what thier PCs can reasonably do and what they reasonably can’t. Descriptions of skills and abilities are thus as important for settings limits as for describing abilities. Rules that offer no such structure to abilities offer no reliable simulation of any game reality for the players to rely on, as one can never understand what a PC can reasonably do while using an ability.

Old school rules also work to ground PCs in specific roles in the setting. Fighters in D&D, while able to present in many different fashions, all share a world-based role as soldiers, guards, and warriors who serve nobles or civic authorities or wealthy employers. The further rules systems get away from reasonable roles for characters, the less of the old school flavor those rules have. The more specialized a fighting character gets and the more non-fighting ability gets added, the less credibility it has as part of a reasonable world. As classes of character are reflective of archetypes, the further from the base of an archetype one wanders, the less compelling the character.

An old school approach also works to keep the types of characters involved in play credible. I’ve seen several products for sale online recently that offer up new PC classes for games that just don’t reflect old school sensibilities for supposed old school-styled systems. Classes that certainly aren’t of archetypes one would associate with fantasy settings and classes that, even if they would fit into expectations for fantasy settings, aren’t of a sort to adventure, diagetically.

Now, old school systems have added gonzo elements in many ways over the years. I’ll offer that the inclusion of such doesn’t make those elements automatically old school in approach, simply because they don’t reflect the fundamental approach to such things. A class of demon barbers in a fantasy system wanders far afield from fantasy genre elements and tropes and afield from old school expectations.

In that regard, I reckon old school is somewhat conservative in added elements. Even mixing sub-genres within a system works well as old school if the fundamentals for each of the sub-genres are upheld. I’m at a bit of a loss at the moment for examples of how this can work and how it doesn’t, so i’m likely to revisit this post in the future when I work out a better explanation.

Moving on, the discussion on Reddit then included that the playstyle assumed by the system is part of it being old school or not. I fully understand that there are multiple playstyles that can appear at tables using old school systems. I also understand that some of those aren’t supported by the systems being used.

To wit, in the Long Ago, there were tables where expansive PC backstories were a normal part of their play. At no point, however, were such backstories mentioned in the rulebooks. Character sheets had no space dedicated to long backstories. The stories were wholly unsupported by the rules. So, those tables that used them weren’t doing so by the rules in any fashion, so it’s safe to say that such were not typical of expected play of the system.

With that in mind, the rules do support some basic expectations of play. Exploration was an expectation, with dungeon exploration procedures, mechanics and rule discussions surrounding supplies and resource management, navigation and so on. While the early rulesets didn’t necessarily explain all of that well, the materials provided were in support of it.

Characters weren’t described in terms of personality or story arc or any sort of narrative storytelling terms. They were described in terms of mechanical resolution of abilities and sets of abilities that determined how the character interacted with the game setting in game terms. They weren’t offered up as specifically protagonists in specific stories, they were imaginary people in imaginary worlds and whether there was any cohesive story of any length wasn’t mentioned; if one arose, cool, if not, also coll, as specific stories weren’t the intent of play.

And that further separates the truly old school from traditional playstyles. The appearance of specific storylines intended for play–popularized by the Dragonlance series–is a watershed moment in dividing streams of play into classical and traditional. The ironic part, I think, is that it involved shoehorning AD&D into specific stories for campaigns, something which AD&D was never designed to do. It also means that some approaches to playing AD&D (1e or 2e) are old school, in classic styles, and others aren’t, with play in traditional styles.

[Note: Yes, I fully aware that many TSR adventures were very much railroads with specific storylines expected. I also am aware that those were designed with tournament play in mind and the railroads served the end of figuring out which groups outperformed other groups to advance to the next round. Many of the non-tournament modules used the same approach because they were designed to the same standard, not because the rules demanded it or even offered support for it.]

The third underpinning offered is that of DIY sensibilities. I can see this to an extent, though only because of practical concerns. Most GMs had to DIY materials simply because there weren’t many published materials widely available to provide for everything needed. TSR and Judges Guild and other publishers could only publish so much. The demand was far greater than what those companies could reasonably produce. Any campaign of any substantive length required more adventure material than could be readily acquired from publishers, so GMs had to provide for themselves.

I can fully endorse the notion of DIY being old school in that regard and in the context of GMs tweaking system rules to bring a personalized game to the table. That, I think, is the bedrock of DIY in old school games–the understanding that a system is simply the foundation a GM builds a personal game on that they bring to the table to share with players. What tools from the system they use, how they use them, how much they emphasize or de-emphasize any procedural area, and so forth are personal to each GM. GMs use systems to build games to bring to the table.

I think there’s definitely something of substance to the notion that old school systems share hallmarks.

Off-Screen Adventures

This is a topic about which I’m still very much unsettled. It’s the idea that PCs engage in activities which very much involve adventuring, yet it all happens off-screen. How best to approach this, if it’s going to happen?

This is actually present in the early system rules.In 1e, Gygax speaks of spying missions, complete with tables to help adjudicate them. He speaks of assassinations, also including tables. Those tables generate the results of the activities, though, as the activities aren’t played out at the gaming table.

Granted, one could always just use those tables for use with NPCs assigned to spy or assassinate a foe as part of high-level play, without a PC getting involved. there’s no written instructions as to that being the intention, though, which leaves the door open for it including PC activity. When one also considers that Gygax described PCs being out of play off-screen while journeying to consult an oracle, it’s easy to see that off-screen play was part of how things were done. Ergo, we should expect off-screen activity as part of play; the only question is what activities should reside off-screen.

Just riffing on what Gygax has describe, I reckon information-gathering of many sorts would be good options. Consulting with oracles, scouting wilderness areas for basic information on what resides there, spy missions into foreign towns and cities to get the lay of the land before arriving, and so on. Put specialist PCs to work doing their specialist things: send thieves to scout out that city, a hunter or scout to get a general sense of the land beyond that mountain pass, a wizard scrying the area where a transfer portal opens on another plane, and so forth.

This is all stuff GMs can certainly do on their own. I think it would behoove designers to provide guidance and support for it, though, as what the system expressly supports typically appears in higher quality than if it’s just something mentioned as being possible in passing. I know that I’ve very rarely had a player ask for such an off-screen jaunt. I don’t recall any happening at the tables I’ve played at. I suspect it’s not something that is regarded as a normal part of play, in a wider sense.

PC Development to Set Up the Late Game

As part of my thinking on classes and class development, I’ll offer up this tidbit. I think PC development in the lower levels should set up play at higher levels. As it stands in the extant rules tomes of the early D&D lineages, PCs, upon reaching name level, can build or buy or take over a base of some sort, suddenly being possessed of administrative and leadership abilities that haven’t been expressly developed anywhere along the line. Having a few henchmen regularly accompanying the PC doesn’t impart such abilities, nor does anything else along the way.

So, we should reset our classes to do exactly that. Here are a few things I think would help:

Recast generic henchmen as Apprentices or Protoges or some such. A fighter acquires a squad of fighting men as henchmen. These are the NPCs who will become, should the fighter live to raise a stronghold, his officers and advisers. Magic Users will have apprentices who will join them in their future towers. Thieves will have protoges and students who will provide the core of a future guild.

I think the class descriptions should also formalize finding and maintaining contacts among the movers and shakers in the classes’ areas of operation. Fighters will develop contacts with military leaders in the service of surrounding nobility or other authorities. Thieves will earn allies of a sort with underworld figures. MUs will develop a network of allied casters.

The flip side is that it could also be a very good thing to develop some animosities with notable NPCs. That, though, may be best a purely diagetic issue within the purview of the GM.

A PC should also develop some abilities that will be necessary or useful at higher levels of play. Wizards develop not only knowledge of, but also some abilities surrounding travel to and existence on other planes of existence, for example. Thieves develop spying abilities beyond simple stealth skills so they can perform spying missions on behalf of friendly authorities and allies. Fighters develop leadership skills in keeping with the need to defend stronghold lands and the peasants who move there.

Keeping an eye on the prize, so to speak, of high level play is something to do throughout the early and middle levels of a PC’s advancement. The PCs should always be preparing for what’s next in their advancement.

Classes, Sub-Classes, and Kits–Oh, My!

Continuing on with discussion of character classes, I’m offering some thoughts on classes as I’m now crafting them. This approach could, of course, change as the voices in my head demand, though the chorus seems to have settled on this approach. ; )

Keeping with the thought that a Class is a broad, general archetype that can appear in many guises, structuring the many guises seems to be where the primary challenge of Class design can be found. The approach I’m taking involves Sub-Classes that provide specialization within the broader Class archetype, and then Kits that dress the character diagetically for play. there’s nothing really new to all this; I find that keeping it firmly in mind helps a good deal when drilling into the details of abilities, though, as shaping and reshaping classes can get messy.

The broad archetype of a Fighting Man, for example, covers a good deal of ground in possibility. Think of the many ways such a character could appear: a soldier practiced in fighting in tight formation as part of a unit; a skirmisher who engages in freewheeling melees without tight formations; troopers fighting from horseback; specialized hunters who seek out undead (or demons or other specialized foes) and eliminate them; warriors who range far and wide, running great distances, engaging in quick raids and retiring into the wilds to appear elsewhere before the enemy can fully respond; individuals fighting for spectacle and glory in front of crowds to earn coin…many ways to specialize in fighting.

Therein lies the heart of the Sub-Class. The basic abilities of a fighter, for instance, are expanded in terms that highlight abilities for a refined purpose. The troopers on horseback and the infantry on foot each fight, though the infantry would be lost on horseback and the troopers out of place on the ground. I view is as additive to the Class description–a Sub-Class adds capabilities to the general Class abilities. Where the Class provides some general fighting abilities, each Sub-Class then adds more specific fighting abilities plus any non-combat abilities that support its role in the setting and/or party. Craft all those abilities with an eye on how the class develops and the roles it expresses in play (per my previous post) and a well-rounded type of character emerges from the seas of possibility.

Kits, on the other hand, place characters in the setting by providing a background from whence they originate. A kit involves a base cultural foundation–say, a semi-nomadic, tribal culture–and then builds a setting-based description around that. The clothes commonly worn in that culture, the types of weapons traditionally used, what virtues are touted, how wealth is treated, and so much more can be expressed in a Kit.

While I’ve no interest in character backstories, I find that character backgrounds of this sort are quite useful and contribute a lot to play. Thus, any chargen subsystem I use will likely involve selecting a background Kit as part of the process in preparing a PC for play. Attaching a distinct meaning to being from the lands of the Sea Kings or some such helps a good deal with characterization and making PCs distinct.

On Designing Classes

I’ve always come back to character classes when noodling around with game system design. I appreciate the variants on class construction–templates, packages, focuses–yet mostly am content with building characters using character classes. Now that I’m again working on a bespoke system (and a supplement offering alternate takes on an existing system), I’m again looking at character classes and what I want from them.

The ways I evaluate classes these days involves a handful of questions. I interrogate the class, so to speak.I interview it to gauge how well it’s going to fit. Including a class simply because it’s a cool idea just doesn’t cut it as good design–it has to actually work well in more than one fashion.

How does it fit thematically? Every class idea has to be evaluated for how well it fits the theme(s) of the game. “Well, it’s a fantasy game and this is a fantasy character class” isn’t enough justification. How well does that class serve the themes your design explores? For example, does an Asian-flavored monk class really serve well when all else in the system is very much European-flavored medieval fantasy? If the system demands self-sacrifice to succeed, does a class predicated on self-indulgence at every turn really fit?

Then, what purpose does it serve? What purpose in the types of setting the system supports? What purpose in a typical group of PCs? What does the class provide that helps the efforts of a group in meeting the challenges expected and demanded by the system?

This is a question that moves beyond the collection of discrete abilities possessed by class members. It reaches to what those abilities provide during play. For example, my previous post about thieves touched on what thieves can add to play–access to otherwise blocked areas, access to areas the party wouldn’t know even existed, information from shady underworld contacts, influence among the same, and so on. The measure of the class goes beyond the simple capabilities of picking locks and neutralizing traps.

What campaign types does the class fit? Assuming that the system is intended to support multiple types of campaigns, how well does the class fit with each of those campaigns envisioned? In a fantasy system that is intended to support undead-hunting PC groups or mercenary, A-Team style operations or rooting out Fae plots on the stability of the mundane lands or groups helping support a beleaguered barony during an invasion–how does it work in each of these?

How does the class develop over the expected course of play? If the game uses experience levels to guage development, how does it actually develop over those levels? How do its capabilities expand and change? What can it do at high levels that it couldn’t prior? As the campaign unfolds, how does it adjust to what’s going on?

A character class can only be judged worth adding (or not) after being evaluated from several points of view, I reckon. I know that I’ve had to redesign classes I’ve been evaluating; I’ve even discarded some ideas as not fitting due to concerns in one of the areas I mentioned above. It’s been entertaining to consider all the classes from multiple points of view and I expect it to help the final class roster work much better in all the games using the system.

The Thief is Dead…Long Live the Thief!

And odd sort of title on the heels of my post about thieves in play, I know. Suffice it to say that I’ve spent a goodly amount of time lately thinking about thieves in games. I’ve come to a much different understanding of how I view thieves overall, compared to all those years I used them at my table (or played them at somebody else’s table) where I worked around issues and tried to patch the class to make it better.

I’ve come to the conclusion that I just don’t have much use for the thief as it seems to be embodied in the old school systems. That is to say, I don’t care for the thief as low-life criminal. All that basic larceny with simple burglary, picking pockets in crowds, and general thuggery just doesn’t fit well with my preferences in fantasy fiction, whether in published stories or in game narratives.

That said, I still very much think there’s a place for characters who are sneaky, possibly underhanded, not who they appear to be, and otherwise not straightforward, upstanding citizens. Spies sent to gather information while disguised as a legitimate merchant, or sneaking into private quarters surruptitiously in search of letters and other information. Explorers intent on exploring tombs in search of treasures. Agents seeking wanted men or women (or the odd creature) to be brought to reckoning–not necessarily justice–for a fee. Those smuggling illicit goods through supposedly lawful lands.

It has to do with desired and expected roles in not just the setting, but also in expected play over the life of a campaign. What purposes does such a character class serve over the course of play? Well, I imagine thieves allow a party to access places it otherwise wouldn’t, and access places the party wouldn’t even know about if it weren’t for the thief character. They can do quick scouting in ruins and tunnels and cities and such to gain some intel on what’s going on. They have contacts in the criminal underworld they can access for more information. And, of course, spying during domain play.

Now, none of that actually included simple burglary just to steal a handful of coins and a couple of pieces of jewelry from a merchant. A spy snooping in a noble’s estate isn’t on a jaunt to simply steal some baubles, they’re there to find information tying the noble to an enemy political movement. Their activity has greater purpose and weight than simple larceny.

So, what I want to do is package thieves up as treasure hunters, bounty hunters, spies, special envoys, smugglers removing slaves from bondage, and similar. They can still possess some of the classic thief abilities–if not most–and yet they aren’t simply common criminals. Expect the materials I publish to have a different take on sneaky characters because of this.

The Thief Redux

Awhile back I meddled with the old school (read: AD&D) thief class, changing the checks to a 2D6 mechanic. It also involved revisiting how the thief skills work, placing them within a more coherent skill system approach.

Here is that work:

A Look at the Thief Class

By pladohs_ghost

As part of reworking the Thief class for a system I’m working on, I’ve taken a hard look at the thief abilities. Tweaking the thief has long been common in D&D circles, so I’m going to offer up my take on the class for anybody interested to use. I’m staying close to the RAW for 1e AD&D in this text, while adding in elements I think add to play.

The first issue I’ve had for ages is this: I find some of the chances listed for skills to begin far too low to be truly useful—and also so low as to disturb my sense of simulation. I don’t think any thief would be viable at low levels because they wouldn’t be competent enough to stay out of trouble with the authorities long enough to develop competence, even if the GM awards a bonus for easier locks or traps or whatever. So, the chances for success need to be tweaked to keep me happy.

The next issue involves taking a look at how the thief’s capabilities compare to those of non-thieves. Thieves aren’t the only characters who can climb and sneak and such—they’re just better at it. I think specialists in skills should be qualitatively better than non-specialists, in addition to quantitatively better. A close look at Gygax’s commentary on thief skills in the 1st edition DMG helps. He lays out some detail on judging thief skill use, so I’m using that as a guide as I play with things.

I’m also keeping in mind that the early editions do all have skills systems, though not formally laid out as such. All of the X-in-6 chance activities are skills. (Lucy Blumire pointed this out years ago, here: https://llblumire.co.uk/blog/2020/07/11/skills ) Skills in the early systems thus reach beyond the thief’s explicit skills.

I find the X-in-6 chance ratings far too crude to work well for me, in terms of development. I want greater granularity. I’ve approached this before with the thought of using a D12, as that doubles the granularity and keeps the change in percentages in even chunks. I’m bothered by that a bit because it adds yet another type of dice roll just for one subsystem, a bit inelegant. I’d rather use a roll that’s used elsewhere in the rules. I’m using 2D6 rolls for the skills, same as with reaction checks and the like (using 2D6 for everything except attack rolls and saves, at this point).

A note about using a 2D6 roll mechanic: a TN of 10+ is the same as a 1-in-6 chance. The 2D6 roll chances deviate from 1D6 chances aside from that. It’s useful, though, to have that particular correspondence, as there are many 1-in-6 chance skills in the systems. 

What follows is my take on the Thief. There are three parts to it. The first is a description of the class as it appears in the PH and noting the changes in the resolution system (and corresponding chances). The second part explains the thief abilities and adds rules for non-thieves using them (where applicable). I treat thief abilities as mostly mundane in nature, instead of viewing them as mostly mystical abilities. The beginning ratings offer better chances, in general, while the ratings at high levels are pulled back a bit (No “zero to superhero” development; “competent to famous expert” is what I’m aiming for). The third part offer up tables of bonuses due to attribute ratings and bonuses due demi-human thieves.

Part One: The class description

The Thief

A thief may specialize in raiding tombs or burglarizing homes of the wealthy or simple snatch-and-grab or picking pockets. One may eschew stealing from poorer citizens and focus efforts on separating the rich from their excess. Or, one may simply steal where the opportunity presents itself. However a thief chooses to use their abilities, the prospect of some loot from a forgotten tomb or ruined estate or deserted city will certainly pique interest, and their abilities will be welcomed by others involved in the endeavor.

Primary Attribute

Thieves rely on physical coordination and precision to perform their duties. Thus, a modicum of talent in that area is required. Extraordinary talent garners a bonus on experience points awarded in play and also a bonus when using thieving abilities.

Minimum Dexterity Rating: 10

Experience Point Bonus: +10% at 15+

Bonus to Thieving checks: covered later

Basic Fighting Ability

Thieves are masters of cunning and stealth, gathering loot by stealth. As such, thieves aren’t great fighters, being neither highly durable nor exceptionally handy with a blade. An experienced thief, however, can overpower unremarkable (read: 0-lvl)  persons with relative ease.

Hit Die Size: D6

To Hit Advancement: +1 per three experience levels

Thieving Abilities

The primary functions of a thief are: (descriptions below)

Picking Pockets

Opening Locks

Finding and Removing small traps

Sneaking

Hiding in Shadows

The secondary functions of a thief are:

Listening at Doors

Climbing Vertical Surfaces

Back Stabbing

Additional functions of a thief are:

Thieves’ Cant

Read Other Languages (upon reaching 4th level)

Decipher Magical Writings & Use Scrolls (upon reaching Master Thief level)

A Thief’s Stronghold

Thieves cannot build a stronghold upon reaching name level (Master Thief). They can build fortified buildings or small castles/manor houses, as long as it is built in, or near, a town or city.

The Master Thief may then use the stronghold as the headquarters for a gang or guild of thieves. The new organization will draw attention from a rival guild of thieves, which will attempt to eliminate the PC’s group. The fighting will only end when all Master Thieves on one side are dead, or the thief PC moves the new operation away.

Followers gained: 4 – 24 thieves of varied levels

Thief Function Bonuses

When using their PCs’ thieving functions, players roll 2D6 for the checks.

Check Roll: 2D6 +bonus vs TN 10 (see below)

Backstab Damage multiplier begins at 2x and advances by another multiple every four experience levels.

Climb Vertical Surfaces begins with a bonus of +5 and advances by +1 every six experience levels.

The Primary Functions listed above begin with a bonus of +2 and advance by +1 every two experience levels.

The Listening at Doors ability begins with a bonus of +1 and advances by +1 every five experience levels.

The Read Other Languages ability begins at 4th level at +0 and advances by +1 every three experience levels.

The ability to Decipher Magical Writings & Use Scrolls becomes available at 10th level with a bonus of +4. The bonus does not increase with experience level.

Part Two: Notes Regarding Thief Functions

As mentioned prior, my approach to thieves involves a close look at the abilities and how to adjudicate them. This examination includes the capabilities of non-thieves attempting the same abilities and how the thief has a qualitative and quantitative advantage in comparison.

This examination of the abilities relies heavily on Gygax’s commentary in the 1e DMG, in conjunction with the descriptions he provides in the PH. Even referencing both of the texts doesn’t always provide clarity on an issue, so I’ve simply made a decision that matches my taste in those situations. 

The examination of the abilities appears in a different order here than in the PH. I begin with the two abilities Gygax reports as the most abused in play: Climbing Walls, and Hiding in Shadows. Those two examinations highlight the approach taken herein, with contrasts between thief capabilities and non-thieves attempting same.

Climbing Walls

The Players Handbook description simply offers that a check is required at the halfway point of any climb, with failure indicating a slip and fall. The DMG discussion clarifies that a check is required for each round of climbing, so those tall castle walls are more of a challenge than the PH description would imply. The checks are required for both vertical and horizontal movement. 

The movement rate while climbing on walls varies by the type of surface and by the condition of the surface. A rough surface with plentiful handholds is easier than one with barely a crack to be seen, and a dry surface is easier than one covered with moisture or slime and thus quite slippery. He offers a table of movement rates based on these criteria, which can add a great deal of verisimilitude and tension in play.

General Parameters

As part of being qualitatively better at climbing, thieves can climb surfaces that others can’t. Thieves can climb vertical surfaces, fairly smooth surfaces with few obvious handholds, and even some inversely-inclined surfaces. When climbing non-sheer surfaces, thieves need not make climbing checks, though they may be slowed by the conditions of the surface.

Non-thieves can climb surfaces that, while difficult to ascend, aren’t so challenging to require the specialized training of a thief. Surfaces that are not vertical and smooth, meaning those that have an incline of no more than 80% and are rough enough to provide obvious handholds for those attempting the climb. Non-thieves climb at a rate half that of thieves on the same surface.

Climbing Checks & Saves

What I would add to the mix is fairly straightforward and relies on the success or failure of a climbing check. A failed check requires a Save vs Breath Weapon to adjudicate the effect, which can be a slide or a slip. This check is required for thieves climbing vertical surfaces and for non-thieves climbing nearly-vertical surfaces. 

* A successful save indicates that the climber suffered a slide, only. The climber loses a round’s worth of movement after they catch themselves and regain a working grip on the surface. 

* A failed save indicates a slip and fall. The climber loses their grip and can’t stop themself from falling. Normal falling damage accrues.

If the climber fails a second climbing check during that climb, the effect varies by whether the climber is a thief or non-thief. 

* A thief may slide or slip, the same as above.

* A non-thief will automatically slip and fall on a second climbing check failure.

(Note: Thieves need not check for climbing on surfaces non-thieves can climb; thieves are automatically successful on those surfaces.)

If a thief fails a third climbing check during a single climb, the failure indicates a slip and fall—no saving throw allowed to mitigate it. 

The movement rate while climbing varies by the surface. A climber may attempt to increase the movement rate—rushing the climb—which results in penalties to climbing checks. For each increase in movement category, a -1 penalty applies. Conversely, if a climber slows their pace, taking greater care, then a bonus of +1 applies to climbing checks (Note: this is a blanket bonus, not per category slowed).

Difficulties & Conditions

There are five difficulty ratings used to evaluate surfaces. The more difficult the surface, the slower the base movement rate on it while climbing. The condition of the surface may slow movement further.

Surface Difficulty Base Move

Tricky: 24’ per round

Challenging: 18’ per round

Demanding: 12’ per round

Arduous: 9’ per round

Prohibitive: 6’ per round

Additional movement rates due to poor surface conditions.

3’ per round

1’ per round

Notes: 

Tricky surfaces are those that non-thieves can climb.

1’ per round is the slowest movement rate.

Surface Condition Effect on Check Effect on Move Rate

Dry None None

Slightly Slippery: -2 penalty -6’ per round

Slippery: -4 penalty -12’ per round

Hiding In Shadows

The thief skill that vies for being most abused, according to Gygax, is that of hiding in shadows. In my experience, this is the most abused, as I’ve seen many a player try to hide while being observed, as if witnesses were to suddenly lose all memory of the PC’s location while watching the thief move about.

In RAW, a thief must make an unobserved attempt to hide, requiring a dice roll. The thief player doesn’t know how the roll turns out and won’t have any idea if the attempt is successful until play reveals that the thief was spotted or the thief goes unnoticed. While hiding in shadows, the thief must be silent and motionless or they will give away their location.

Gygax makes it abundantly clear that hiding in shadows is never possible while the thief is under direct OR indirect observation. In melee, specifically, if a combatant’s vision would normally extend to the thief’s area of activity, the thief is under observation; dropping back from the party after encountering something is thus not possible, as the foes have seen the thief and the thief is under at least indirect observation as the foes are looking in that general direction. Again, if a thief moves while hiding, the jig is up if in any location under direct or indirect observation. A hiding thief is also subject to detection as if they were invisible.

I would add some modifiers to hiding attempts based on how deep the shadows are, whether there are objects in the shadow to aid in the attempt, and how far into the shadows the thief is. 

Quality of Shadows Bonus or Penalty

deep shadow +2

regular shadow +0

light shadow -2

Objects in Shadows Bonus or Penalty

many objects +2

few objects +0

very few or none -2

Distance Into Shadow Bonus or Penalty

deep, more than 20’ +2

moderate, 10’ to 20’ +0

shallow, 5’ to 10’ -3

Non-thieves may attempt to hide in shadows with a penalty of -3. They must check every other round to stay hidden; these additional checks at a reduced penalty of -1.

Moving Silently

The ability to move silently has often been used as a backup check to a surprise check. While I think that’s a workable approach, I’d rather use just a single roll for each PC, so working the move silently skill into general use as a surprise check is a more efficient approach. Gygax reports the default movement rate for moving silently is the same as exploratory movement, so it works well to merge the surprise check and move silently check into one roll. 

The RAW call for a surprise check when chancing upon others—NPCs or creatures—while moving along or when attempting to sneak up on a victim. We can see two use cases therein. The first case involves moving normally and chancing upon others without any intent to sneak; this case involves each party involved in the encounter checking for surprise. The second involves an actual attempt to sneak up on somebody or something, with the party doing the sneaking not having a chance to be surprised—only the party being snuck up on.

There are limitations presented as to how the chance to surprise others can be limited. Light sources can give away presence in dark environs, negating any chance to surprise others, for example. Noise can likewise give away presence, as can odor. Anything that can be sensed by the other party can give away the presence of the PCs.

The distance at which one of the parties becomes aware of the other (or both aware simultaneously) is variable, determined by the roll of dice. It’s entirely possible to be surprised by, or surprise others, at a distance where neither side can take advantage of the other. (I can recall such an annoyance happening far too frequently at my table, until I learned to check encounter distances before bothering to roll for surprise.) Note that this approach changes surprise rolls from checking to see if the PCs are surprised, to them rolling to see if they surprised the others, changing the feel of the check a bit.

I would expand the use of surprise rolls as sneak rolls expressly to sneak past somebody, too. Sneaking past guards is a common enough activity and making it explicitly a use for a sneak/surprise roll seems obvious. Witnessing GMs call for percentile checks or saving throws at other tables, though, tell me it’s not an obvious use for some. 

As the 10+ TN is a 1-in-6 chance and most critters and beings are surprised at a rate of 2-in-6 in RAW, I figure every PC has a base +1 in sneak. This raises the chance not quite to 2-in-6, yet more than 1-in-4, which I find a reasonable rate. This bonus applies to all uses of the sneak roll: group surprise, individual surprise, and sneaking to remain undetected in moving.

Thieves, of course, have larger bonuses to sneaking. A group of thieves moving together will surprise others according to the worst sneak bonus among them; only the player of that PC need roll for the check. Again, thieves have better chances to sneak up on and surprise a target or sneak by a target.

I’ll add in three elements that can affect the chances of sneaking successfully: the distance between the parties, the rate at which they’re moving, and how much noise is present. 

The distance at which the check happens

greater than 30’ +2

15’ – 30’  +0

5’ – 15’ -2

The rate at which a party or person is moving

half normal speed (6’/rd)  +2

normal speed (12’/rd). +0

half again normal speed (18’/rd) -2

faster than 18’/rd. -4

Background noise

general silence -2

regular background noise levels +0

noisy background +2

The distance modifiers only consider distances in dungeon environs, as listed. Distances for wilderness encounters are most likely going to be at least 30’, though in some circumstances one may happen closer. In that situation, use the indoor/dungeon distance guidelines above.

Back Stabbing

Thieves are notorious for stabbing targets in the back, though that notoriety may be better laid at the feet of assassins. A perfect backstab can leave even high-level targets dead from a single attack. 

RAW require a backstab attack to involve attacking from behind a target while wielding a club, dagger, or sword. The attacking thief must surprise the target, first, and then attack with a bonus of +4 to hit. If the strike is successful, then damage is multiplied (2x to 5x). 

The attack form relies on the thief being able to hide and/or sneak up on an unsuspecting target, which is not always straightforward. Opponents aware of the thief’s presence—such is a melee where the thief has already been seen—will automatically negate the attack form. If a target knows the thief is around, no back stab opportunity. There are also creatures that have the ability to negate surprise and some that have no discernible back, so those can’t be struck using the back stab ability (though they can be attacked from behind, certainly). 

I much prefer that back stab attacks have serious consequences if perfectly executed. This means that the thief surprises the target, gains a +4 bonus to hit, and then the damage involves a full die of damage for each multiplier; a 2x multiplier with a short sword, for example, adds a full die—6 points—to the roll of the first damage die, making for a strike that does 7 – 12 points of damage. 

If the thief doesn’t surprise the target, I still want the attack form to be consequential. The thief will attack with a bonus of +2 for being to the target’s rear. If successful, the strike does damage according to the multiplier, though each die has to be rolled, e.g., a 2x multiplier with a short sword delivers 2D6 damage, or 2 – 12 points. An imperfect back stab can thus be as effective as a perfect back stab, though it’s unlikely.

A non-thief attacking with surprise from behind gains the +4 bonus to hit and, if successful, the strike will inflict maximum damage for the weapon (e.g., 6 points of damage with a short sword).

Picking Pockets

Picking pockets is something that doesn’t seem to arise often in many games, which is a shame. Purloining a letter or signet or the like from an NPC is something that adds to an adventure, providing some tension without bloodshed. If the thief happens to snag a piece of jewelry at the same time, then the situation is even better.

RAW call for a check for each attempt, with a couple of attempts possible each round (fiction permitting, I reckon). If the attempt fails with a roll close to success, the victim doesn’t notice the attempt. If the check fails with a roll significantly different than the TN, the victim notices—though may not immediately react. A successful check garners a random item unless the thief knows the exact location of a desired bit.

The primary limitation on picking pockets is that the level of the NPC mark affects the check. Attempting to pick a high level character’s pocket unwittingly can prove dangerous to a PC thief.

I’ll suggest, first, that non-thieves can attempt to pick pockets, too. They operate with a penalty of -2 and never improve over time. This effectively means they have a slight chance to succeed, and that only in favorable situations. Still, if they wish, filching an item here or there from typical citizens is possible. 

Thieves begin with a bonus of +2, as this is a primary function. The chances are limited by the level of the mark, and how sober the mark is. An additional threat of a witness noticing the attempt and giving alarm is also factored i; if the check fails by the crowd penalty or less, then a witness notices.

Level of the Mark Bonus/Penalty

0 – 1   +0

2 – 4   -1

5 – 7   -2

8 – 10   -3

11+   -4

Condition of Mark Bonus/Penalty

diligent   -2

generally sober   +0

obviously drunk   +2

Chance of Witness Bonus/Penalty

no crowd   +2

small crowd   +0

large crowd   -2

Opening Locks

In the RAW, the thief has an ability to open locks, which includes sliding puzzle locks and magical closures. Opening a lock can take 1 – 10 rounds, though most are simple enough to require only 1 – 4 rounds to open. Opening locks requires a set of tools and cleverness. Thieves are assumed to study and practice on locks regularly.

If a check is successful to open a lock, then that lock is now opened. If the check results in failure, the thief may not attempt to open that particular lock until having achieved another experience level. 

I’d add a bit to this whole process. The complexity of the lock should affect the time required for an attempt to open it. Some locks are more difficult to open than others. A good toolset can make all the difference in succeeding. Failing to open a lock may damage the lock or a tool, so there may be consequences to failure beyond not opening the lock.

Lock Complexity Time Required for Attempt

simple lock: 2-5 rounds

moderate lock: 2-8 rounds

complex lock: 2-12 rounds

Lock Difficulty Bonus or Penalty on Check

easy lock: +2

moderate lock: +0

difficult lock: -2

Toolset Used Bonus or Penalty to Check

excellent tools: +2

regular tools: +0

poor tools: -2

Chance of Breakage

failure by <5 none

failure by 5+ break

If a break is indicated, roll 1D6. 

On 1-3, a tool breaks. 

On a 4-6, the lock breaks. 

A broken lock cannot be picked open thereafter.

A non-thief can only pick the simplest and easiest of locks, even when using the best tools. The chance of breakage increases when an attempt fails, with failure by 3+ indicating breakage. Non-thieves have a penalty of -2 on all attempts.

Finding & Removing Traps

While attempting to open locked doors or chests, a thief may want to check for traps on or around the mechanism. A thief can detect small mechanical devices such as poisoned needles, spring blades, and similar mechanisms. Such traps may be thwarted via removal or rendering the mechanism inoperable. This ability is limited to small traps, such as on chests or door locks and similar

Find traps and removing traps are separate tasks. They are checked for the same as for opening locks, above. A thief has but one attempt to find a trap; they may try again after gaining a level of experience.

I think there should be adjustments to finding traps based on how well a trap is concealed. When removing traps, how accessible the mechanism is should be a consideration. In addition, sometimes disabling a trap is but a temporary measure and the trap will return to working condition after some time.

Concealment Bonus or Penalty to Check

poorly concealed +2

normal concealment +0

well hidden -2

Accessibility of Mechanism Bonus or Penalty to Check

easily accessible +2

moderately accessible +0

barely accessible -2

Check Success Margin Lenth of Time Disabled

success by <=1 1-4 turns

success by 2+ permanent

Trap Complexity Time Required for Removal

simple trap 2-5 rounds

moderate trap 2-8 rounds

complex trap 2-12 rounds

Non-thieves have a penalty of -2 on all attempts.

Hearing Noise

This is a task that Gygax makes clear can be done by non-thieves, with a process outlined for general hearing attempts laid out elsewhere in the DMG. That discussion of listening at doors lays out base percentages based on character race. Gygax also includes the possibility of a PC being keen-eared, gaining a permanent bonus to checks if the PC is successful at the task the first time in attempting it.

A PC must remove all headgear to listen at a door, which requires time to remove and put back on; if the party is attacked during that time, the PC must fight sans helmet, which places them at great risk of a blow to the head. Each character listening requires some 2 1/2 feet of space, meaning even the standard dungeon door can only accommodate three listeners at one time.

Each attempt lasts a round. Only three consecutive rounds may be spent listening before strain sets in, which requires five rounds of rest before attempting to listen again. During the listening attempt, all members of the party must be as silent as possible.

I’ll suggest making the door, itself, affect the chances of hearing anything on the other side. The thickness of the door should make a difference (I’m only considering wood doors, at this point). In keeping with the expertise of the thief, a thief will not suffer any mistaken impression results, whereas non-thieves can make such a mistake.

Door Thickness Bonus or Penalty

light door +2

normal door +0

extra-stout door -2

Result by Class Outcome

All, success impressions of what might cause sound heard

if there are sounds to be heard

Thief, failure no sounds noticed

Non-thief, failure

by 3 or less no sounds noticed

by more than 3 mistaken impression of sound

A mistaken impression can take the form of hearing sound when there is none to be heard, or to hear a sound and ascribe it to something totally different than what it is—believing a sound is voices instead of wind whistling through an opening—or to not hear any sound despite there being activity behind the door.

Non-thieves have a bonus of +0, modified by any bonus or penalty due their race (see below).

Reading Languages

Upon gaining a fourth level of experience, a thief can read bits and pieces of languages they aren’t able to speak, at least to the extent to read some instructions and descriptions on treasure maps and the like. They may attempt to read inscriptions and writings once at their current experience level; further attempts can be made at higher levels. 

A successful check means that the thief can understand a portion of what’s written. The rate of comprehension begins at 20% and increases to 80%, the increase mirroring that of the chances of the thief to read the language. On a failed check, the thief comprehends none of the script. The thief does not have the ability to read ancient or strange languages, as determined by the GM, because the ability is predicated on having encountered the language prior. 

I see this ability as providing a chance to pick up on key concepts in a passage of writing; common words will be far more recognizable than rarely used words.Whereas a non-thief might be able to identify what language some script around a stone portal is written in, a thief may be able to decipher enough to learn that a great evil is locked inside, or a specific phrase warning of danger to those attempting to open it without a key, or so on.

The chances of reading bits and pieces also should depend on how closely the language matches one the thief can already speak. The script system used should also affect comprehension, with some writings more difficult to parse. 

Language Difficulty Bonus or Penalty

closely related to known language +2

related to known language +0

distantly related to known language -2

Writing System Bonus or Penalty

alphabetic/syllabic +0

hieroglyphic/ pictographic -1

Deciphering Magical Scrolls

 Thieves gain the ability to read magical scrolls at 10th level, casting the spells thereon. Clerical scrolls are excepted from this, though druidic scrolls can be used. There’s a 25% chance of misreading the scroll, though, and increasing chances of mispronunciations that can lead to a spell reversal.

I think this is a solid basic approach. I’ll break it out into two checks for a successful casting from the scroll, though—a (mis)reading check and a (mis)casting check. The casting check is only needed if the thief passes the reading check, of course. The difficulties increase as the level of the spell on the scroll increases. I also want miscasts to have varied effects.

Misreading a scroll spell means nothing happens. The spell is still on the scroll and may be attempted again after the thief has gained another experience level. 

Spell Level Bonus or Penalty to Read

1st or 2nd +0

3rd or 4th -1

5th or 6th -2

7th or 8th -3

9th -4

Miscasting a spell should prove dangerous to the thief, leading to a bit of hesitation before attempting such a thing. With the power comes danger. The odds of miscasting also increase by spell level. A check is made for casting only if the reading check is successful.

Spell Level Bonus or Penalty to Cast

1st +0

2nd or 3rd -1

4th or 5th -2

6th -3

7th -4

8th -5

9th -6

Miscasting Fail Margin Effect of Miscasting

fail by 1 or 2 reversed spell

fail by 3 or 4 magical burn to thief

(2D4 +1D4 per spell lvl)

fail by 5+ Area of Effect magical burn

(5’ radius per spell lvl)

(2D4 +1D4 per spell lvl)

A thief casting from a scroll takes twice as long as a spellcaster using the scroll.

Part Three: Bonuses Due

Bonuses Due to Attribute Score

The bonuses due extraordinary attribute scores used in AD&D are intended for use with a D20 roll mechanic. Those bonuses don’t transfer well to use with a 2D6 roll mechanic; a +4 bonus is much stronger with a 2D6 mechanic. On a D20 roll, +4 is a 20% improvement; with a TN of 10, +4 on a 2D6 roll is a 55% improvement. Because of this, bonuses due attribute ratings have to be altered.

Ratings of 15 – 16 +1

Ratings of 17 – 18 +2

Strength Bonus applies to: (Normal STR bonus applies to Back Stabbing To-Hit rolls)

Climbing Walls

Dexterity Bonus applies to:

Picking Pockets, Opening Locks, Removing Traps

Intelligence Bonus applies to:

Deciphering Magical Scrolls, Reading Languages

Wisdom Bonus applies to:

Hearing Noise

Bonuses Due Non-Human PCs

The bonuses and penalties listed in the PH are in increments of 5%, which is perfect for conversion to D20 rolls from percentile rolls. They don’t work so well for conversion to 2D6 rolls, as even a +1 vs TN 10 is an 11% increase in chance of success. Because of this, I’ve removed most of the bonuses and penalties for demi-humans; I figure each of the non-human peoples can generally garner a +1 bonus and a -1 penalty to reflect differences among them. 

Dwarf: +1 Finding/Removing Traps

-1 Climbing Walls

-1 Listening at Doors

Elf: +1 Hiding In Shadows

-1 Opening Locks

Gnome: +1 Moving Silently

-1 Climbing Walls

+1 Listening at Doors

Half-Elf: —- -1 Listening at Doors

Halfling: +1 Hiding In Shadows

-1 Climbing Walls

Half-Orc: +1 Climbing Walls

-1 Reading Languages

-1 Deciphering Magical Scrolls

Human —- -1 Listening at Doors

Ain’t no such thing as a Heartbreaker

After having read a couple of comments in one thread on Reddit today, I’m rolling my eyes again. Far, far too many times have I seen a system described as a “heartbreaker”…when there ain’t so such thing.

The term arises from The Forge years ago. The founder of The Forge, Ron Edwards, in one of his condescending essays–he once said that playing games not designed in his One True Way gave people *literal* brain damage–he offered up a supposed lament about “heartbreakers.”

Now, the definition he gave stated that any fantasy system that somebody produced *and expected to be as big as D&D* was just the designer setting themselves up for heartbreak. That definition is one I can live with…

…and I can say I’ve never encountered such a heartbreaker in the wild. I’ve never seen any indie designer releasing their system say they expected it to be as big as D&D. Never. Even those who think their system is going to do really well and gain a large audience aren’t expecting D&D numbers.

So, please, stop referring to any system you’re designing or somebody else has done as a “heartbreaker.” Without the designer expecting a miracle in terms of sales, their heart isn’t getting broken in the way the definition requires. It just doesn’t happen.

And you sound like a condescending ass when you say it.

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