Words from a grognard

Tag: #oldschoolrules

Design Theory: Surprise

Surprise is one of the bits of system that didn’t hold up under scrutiny and is worthy of a post on its own, I think. There’s a whole lot of tinkering going on with how surprise operates, beginning with how it feels and including what purpose it serves in the system.

Let’s begin with a look at how it plays out in RAW. I’ve long wondered why groups get surprised one-third of the time upon encountering another group or monster. Reading through all of the OG materials has offered no reasoning to support that rate, so this appears to be one of the things that has been perpetuated simply because of tradition. I decided that I’m not down with that; one-third of the time is simply more than I can sustain disbelief for–it just doesn’t serve my fantasy to have competent adventurers getting flummoxed by running into beasties that often.

To that end, I’ve moved to lesser chances, closer to 25% of the time. If I recall correctly, the odds are about 27%, using the dice roll I’ve landed on. I’m using the 2D6 roll that I’ve pressed into service for some other purposes.

I’m also all for PCs being able to bump the odds in their favor, whether decreasing the chance of being surprised or increasing the chance of surprising others. How the players play should matter and this is but another way their choices matter mechanically and fictionally.

How long surprise lasts has also not survived its viewing under the microscope. The initial measure being provided by the die roll, with a surprise result of 1 or 2 resulting in a matching number of suprise segments was an elegant way to find out long surprise would last. Two segments of surprise are also referred to as “full surprise,” which illustrates that two segments was the longest surprise would last, originally. Then, with the accretion of further rules, notions such as creatures that could surprise more frequently changed how many segments could be notched in that fashion. Tossing in the use of dice of a larger size — D8 or D10 — for surprise checks in some situations, and figuring out how long surprise lasts becomes muddled.

As I don’t think more than three segments of surprise is reasonable — especially with a one minute round — I’ve capped surprise at that. The number of phases of surprise is also established by the dice roll for surprise.

What surprising combatants are able to do during each segment of surprise also got limited. The notion that each segment of surprise garnering a full series of attacks, without regard to the number of attacks entailed, got dropped, too. Two attacks are certainly possible, depending on circumstance; anything beyond that stretched my sensibilities past breaking. And certainly no launching multiple arrows each segment, so only one readied arrow per phase, with a phase required to ready one. I’m also considering an added bonus to having surprised the opponents when the first full round of action fires up, which returns a bit of the overwhelming advantage provided by surprise in the RAW.

This has also resulted in dropping references to segments in the surprise rules, in favor of referring to phases. This is with the understanding that I’m also dropping the use of the term “segment” entirely, at this point, because of its long association with being one-tenth of a round; rounds will be apportioned in fewer parts when the whole is reassembled (five phases per 20-second round).

The urge to allow for PC actions (player choices) to affect the odds of surprise also extends to how long surprise lasts, measured by how much activity the surprising party can do before the surprised can engage fully and player choices can quicken response when PCs are surprised. As above, the number of melee and missile attacks possible will be limited, what movement is allowed carefully meted out, and what casting or other magical work can get started and/or finished. A surprise situation, under this approach, may not happen as often, yet it provides a major advantage to one side when it does happen.

Ambush

An ambush provides a different experience of surprise. Only the party being ambushed can be surprised due to the ambushing party knowing full well when it will act. How the ambush is set up and executed will affect how much activity the ambushing side will get to do before the victims can respond. A well-planned and -executed ambush can provide a bit more time for salvos, too.

Sneak Attacks

A sneak attack is a form of ambush, just on a smaller scale, so to speak. Sneaking up behind a guard to take them out or firing a crossbow from the darkness into a sentry’s back rely on the at-least-momentary lack of awareness and engagement, as much as springing forth from hidden positions along a road when attacking a caravan does.

A Rough Draft of Surprise Rules

Surprise: Roll For doom

A surprise situation may arise when parties encounter each other suddenly. One side is caught off-guard, unaware, and must spend precious moments pull themselves together before they can act normally. Until they recover from being surprised, their activity is limited. Meanwhile, the active party is free to act without those limitations; it’s easy to see why being the active party in such circumstance is advantageous!

These rules describe the many aspects of surprise:

* When to check for surprise

* What modifies the chances of being surprised

* How long surprise lasts

* Early recovery from surprise

* Action during surprise phases

The unsurprised party is referred to as the active party or Party A in these rules. Party B refers to the surprised party, with any additional parties referred to as Party C and so forth. 

When to Check for Surprise

A check for surprise is to be made at the outset of an encounter where the status might be a factor.

* When the parties can only become aware of each other at the last moment

* When the environment obscures sight and/or sound, limiting awareness

* When one of the parties is distracted and the other has limited awareness

Modifying Factors

The chances of surprise may be modified by circumstance. The modifiers listed hereafter are given in pairs, reflecting whether the odds change for the PCs or the foes. The modifiers are noted separately for each of the parties involved and applied only to the part of the roll affecting the party being considered.

* other party is magically silenced -2 for PCs; +2 for foes

* other party is invisible -3 for PCs; +3 for foes

* other party has a distinct odor +1 for PCs; -1 for foes

* other party is large (per ten bodies) +1 for PCs; -1 for foes

* other party is camouflaged -2 for PCs; +2 for foes

* other party is moving +1 for PCs; -1 for foes

* Poor light -1 for PCs; +1 for foes

* Darkness -2 for PCs; +2 for foes

* Rain or snow -1 for PCs; +1 for foes

* Fog (may vary) -2 for PCs; +2 for foes

* Loud background noise -2 for PCs; +2 for foes

* Anticipating attack +3 for PCs; -3 for foes

* Suspicious of other +1 for PCs; -1 for foes

The modifiers to surprise chances are cumulative; find the sum of all of the factors and apply that to the roll for the affected side. 

A roll for surprise checks for both parties simultaneously. The number of phases of surprise is also determined by the roll. A party may be surprised from one to three phases. Note that the roll total for one party is unaffected by modifiers applied to the other side’s roll total.

* Roll 2D6 and sum the dice, for results of 2 – 12

* Apply the modifiers from above to the sum total for each side separately

* Roll of 2 or 3: PCs surprised for three phases

* Roll of 4: PCs surprised for two phases

* Roll of 5: PCs surprised for one phase

* Roll of 6 – 8: Nobody surprised

* Roll of 9: Others surprised for one phase

* Roll of 10: Others surprised for two phases

* Roll of 11 or 12: Others surprised for three phases

Example: The PCs have a total of -1 in modifiers and the foes have a total of +2 in modifiers. A dice roll total of 7 adjusts the PCs’ roll to 6 — so not surprised — and the foes’ roll adjusts to 9 — surprised for one phase. The PCs get the jump on the varmints!

Early Recovery from Surprise

An individual may recover more quickly from surprise. In these instances, the creature’s recovery bonus knack (reaction bonus) is subtracted from the number of phases of surprise to find out when the creature has recovered. This recovery bonus never wholly mitigates surprise, so the character suffers at least one phase of surprise even if the recovery bonus would otherwise remove all surprise phases.

[Note: The recovery bonus is not a “Get Out of Surprise Free” card. There may be critters or characters that can never be surprised; that ability would be indicated in its description and makes recovery moot. The recovery bonus is described in the character generation rules.]

Example: Party A is surprised for three phases. One of the PCs in Party A has a recovery bonus allowing for one fewer phase surprised, so that character is surprised for only two phases and may begin acting normally in the third surprise phase.

Example: Party A is surprised and the GM rolls one phase of surprise duration. The aforementioned character with the quick recovery still suffers one phase of surprise.

Optional Rule: As recovery from surprise isn’t actually a physical reflex response like dodging a rolling boulder, the use of a Dexterity bonus for recovery makes little sense. The use of Intelligence to determine a recovery bonus makes for a better simulation. 

Optional Rule: Any character may recover early from surprise by succeeding on a saving throw vs spells. This save will allow recovery one phase earlier than the surprise roll result. The character will still suffer at least one phase of surprise.

All surprised individuals recover from surprise when the surprise phases are finished. No check of any sort is required to recover at this point.

Actions During Surprise Phases

The active party’s actions decide, in largest part, how the encounter will proceed. The active party can steer the encounter toward parley and negotiations, toward separation and non-interaction, or toward hostilities. The surprised party has little influence on what happens until it recovers from being surprised. 

Actions during a surprise phase are limited due to the short time involved. 

Parley Actions:

* Speak a sentence or two

* Sound a horn or other device to draw attention

* Hold action and await surprised party’s response

Avoidance Actions:

* Flee

* Withdraw

* Duck into cover

Hostile Actions:

* Shift position to engage a surprised foe

* Launch a readied missile

* Attack a foe already engaged

* Loose a finished spell

* Charge an opponent

Preparatory Actions:

* Ready a weapon

* Begin casting a spell

* Pull out an item

Movement: A character may move up to 20% of their movement rate each surprise phase, if not engaged with a foe. This movement may end with the character in melee range of a foe and thus engaged in melee at the onset of the following phase (or round).

Missiles: Any missile weapons that are readied can be launched or hurled in one phase. Those not readied can be readied in one phase, allowing for launch the following phase. This allows for a readied missile to be launched in the first phase of the first action round following surprise phases; this attack is a bonus to the normal attack routine of the archer and adds +1 phase to the action speed of the regular routine for the round.

Magic: A caster may cast a spell during phases where the opponents are surprised. A completed spell takes effect during the surprise phase it finishes. If the casting requires more phases than there are surprise phases, the casting extends into the following round only the number of phases needed to finish. 

Example: A magic user in Party A is casting a spell at a surprised opponent. The opponent is surprised for two phases and the spell takes one phase to cast. The spell is finished and loosed while the opponent is still surprised. 

[Does surprise affect saves?]

Example: Magic User A from above instead begins a spell with a casting time of four phases. The spell won’t finish until two phases into the first full round.

Melee: Any active character close enough to engage a surprised opponent in melee during a surprise phase may attack the opponent. The active character may use their normal attack sequence, with the following restrictions:

* A maximum of two attacks in each surprise phase

* If an attack form requires reloading, only one such attack can be made

* A multiple-attack routine may only be split between two adjacent targets that

  are each close enough to engage in melee with the attacker

A surprised character may defend, poorly — with a penalty of -2 — during a surprise phase. 

Morale: If the active party incapacitates one-third (or more) of the surprised party, or otherwise shows overwhelming capabilities, the surprised party has to check morale once surprise has run its course. 

A character recovering early from surprise is able to take action: 

* moving, readying a weapon, or other non-attack if not engaged 

* defending normally and/or a snap attack if engaged

When Surprise has Ended

When all surprise phases have played out, the action in the fiction and the mechanics of game play change to the relevant sub-system of rules: parley, pursuit, or combat. 

Characters: Hit Points & Bloat

Hanging out with old school gamers will indubitably result in hearing fussing about hit pooints in D&D versions.One of the recurring laments among old school crowds is that of hit point bloat, especially when talk turns to AD&D. That’s often heard alongside the ongoing search for ways to generate hit points that aren’t as likely to cripple PCs when players rolls badly. The whole concept of hit points, it seems, is good at a theoretical level and lacking in execution most of the time.

There have been many different ways thought up to address the issues surrounding hit points, and I have a new approach to toss on the pile that some may find useful. First, however, I think it’d be useful to take a look at hit points as they began and how they can operate in the systems that use them to serve their purpose a bit better.

The concept of hit points arrived from the world of wargames. In the years when RPGs were being developed and the years prior when the wargames that spawned RPGs ruled the field (!), six-sided dice were pretty much the only game in town, so to speak. D4s, D8s, and other fancy dice weren’t used in games, just the humble cubes of six-siders. That meant that wargames used D6s by default.

This meant that when a game used the concept of “hit dice” to reflect how much damage (in the abstract) a figure could take (or inflict), it was measured using a D6. A normal fighting man, in Chainmail, could take a D6 of damage because they had one hit die. That meant that any weapon could deliver a killing blow of one hit die, as any serious weapon was capable of killing a person with a single strike.

This is what brought about OD&D characters all having D6 hit dice — the highest hp roll on a D6 and the most damage from a weapon matched to reflect the relationship between them. Better fighters in Chainmail were rated in terms of equivalence to multiple normal, unremarkable fighters, so a hero had 4HD to reflect being equivalent to four normal troops, for example, and a superhero twice as many. A monster could be the equivalent of even more men, thus having more HD of that size.

Then the idea that some characters should have more hp than others by dint of class arose. Why would mighty fighting men and puny magic-users both have the same size hit dice? Surely a burly, trained soldier should be able to take more abuse than a weakling who spends far too much time reading musty, old tomes. So hit dice of differing sizes appeared. (I think decreasing the HD size for magic-users was a bad choice, by the way — they’re still normal persons and if random people on the street have a D6, then M-Us should, also.)

This is the moment when hit point bloat started. Now, a weapon strike of 6 points wasn’t a guaranteed fatal blow for all characters. That sword that could certainly skewer any given person, killing them, suddenly couldn’t kill some people. That led to variable weapon damage, so that longer swords could still kill all characters — an arms race guaged by damage points.

Put that together with AD&D’s larger bonuses due to high attributes and now hit points quickly outpace what came before. A Chainmail Hero, at 4HD, averaged 14 hp. An AD&D 4th level fighter, at 4HD, averaged 22 hp. That’s without considering that the Chainmail & OD&D Hero gets no bonus for Constitution and the AD&D fighter can get up to +4 per die. Oof! That’s how we ended up with laments about hit point bloat.

Now, to solve that problem, we can take several steps. Most of the steps I list here are not unique to me, just ways others have addressed the issue over the years. I’m also listing those I’ve at least toyed with that proved to be effective to some degree without totally changing the feel of play.

Reduce the bonuses for extraordinary attributes. This can shave many hp from PCs, especially fighters with the highest scores. If no PC can gain more than 1 extra hp per die, then the worst excesses are eliminated.

Limit the number of hit dice to be gained. There are lots of tables where PCs only gain hit dice through six levels. That culls roughly a third off the possible totals gained through RAW nine levels adding HD.

Assign fighters smaller HD. Fighter PCs were the most egregious offenders of hit point bloat, with those shiny D10s they roll (and then barbarians arrived with D12s). Limit HD to nothing above a D8 and more points get shaved off possible totals.

Use shrinking hit dice. Use the regular hit die size for 1st level, then use smaller dice for the levels after. Drop everybody to D4s from 2nd level onward. Or drop HS size by step every level until down to a D4: D10 –> D8 –> D6 –> D4, for fighters; clerics D8 –> D6 –> D4; and so on.

Roll hit points differently. One way is to roll 2 dice and average them to get the hp increase for a level. Some folks hate the thought of having to do addition and division to do this, so not workable at some tables.

Roll a single die size for hit points. This is actually my solution, though it’s not quite what one would expect. I’m not advocating for all PCs to again roll D6s for hp. I’m advocating using a D4 for all PCs, with a different bonus added for each class.

The average of D4 rolls over the long haul is 2.5 per die. With a D6, that raises a point to 3.5, then a D8 another point to 4.5. That means the difference between an average D4 roll and a D6 roll is one point; we may as well roll the D4 and add a bonus to get a D6 average.

The price for using this rolling approach is that we can’t roll the maximum for a given die size, so no 6 results on a D4+1 roll. The larger the die size, the more lost off the top end. Notice that we also removed the lowest possible results from the mix, so no worries about only rolling a 1. With D8s and D10s replaced in this fashion, we remove even more of the lower end of the possible results.

So, a D4 straight up for magic-users. Range 1 – 4; average 2.5.

A D4+1 for thieves. Range 2 – 5; average 3.5, same as D6.

A D4+2 for clerics. Range 3 – 6; average 4.5, same as D8.

A D4+3 for fighters. Range 4 – 7; average 5.5, same as D10.

This approach meets a lot of preferences. It maintains the same average rolls. The math is easy. The results in the range are all evenly weighted, unlike with rolling multiple dice to sum or average. And, most importantly, it removes the highest totals from possibility, decreasing bloat.

Using this approach, that 4th level fighter still averages 22 hp from dice rolls; the max number of hp rolling this way for 4th level is 28, though, which eliminates anything even approaching the max roll of 40 using D10s. Use this approach in conjunction with limiting the number of HD to 5 or 6 and reducing the possible bonus to hit points due to Constitution, and hit point totals are much more manageable.

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