D&D as a War Game: Accepting 3.5 & 4E for What They Are

 The origins of D&D are in tabletop wargaming. That is miniatures on a table that can move and fire fixed distances, have some armor value, and deal some amount of damage. Then we zoomed in to focus on an individual character and voila! roleplaying was born. Since that time the focus has trended, albeit with variation, from a tactical war game to a character-focused game. Some would use words like "narrative" or "story telling" - but basically a fantasy game where the players control the protagonists.

When the OSR was born some of us realized people were still playing the TSR editions. We recalled the unique qualities and nostalgia they carried. We decided modern editions were too complicated. The crunch of 3rd Edition that we hailed revolutionary became a burden. 4E was too far ahead of its time - balanced and easier to run, but video-gamey and explicit in game mechanics that broke the immersive qualities of the hobby's origins. The OSR offered modern takes, cleaned up complications, and distilled the qualities that made the original editions so captivating.

But what if we went back and started playing 3.5 and 4E for what they are? What if we embraced the tactical miniatures aspect of D&D again? Would we need crunchy rules and distances? Absolutely. Can you interweave set-piece battles, beautiful terrain, and min-maxed combat characters with a plot-rich adventure? Sort of. What you need to understand is the non-combat aspects of the game are a wholly different mode of play, and will need reigned in from the ultimate sandbox that old school often strives for. The plot will necessarily be a bit more "on rails" due to the careful calibration required of the DM for good encounter building. The DM will need the ability to dictate the goals and guide the path of the party in the macro. In consequence - player choice will exist much more in the micro. Once violence is initiated we shift game modes to the tactical, strictly-ruled, miniatures board game that 3.5 and 4E offer.

This is the sort of gaming that can be competitive. The entire session is one long combat or a series of closely connected ones. The DM can define the objective, the terrain, and tactically plan for the enemies. This is D&D that rewards system mastery as much or more than creative improvisation. That's great.

The beauty of 5E is you can play it either way. If you want more of an open, free-flowing game than skip all the crunch in the rules. Speeds, distances, durations, and areas of effect can be somewhat hand-waved. Character abilities and spells can be much more open to interpretation. Basically: house rule the hell out of it and let your DM and your table make the call as to what sounds fair and reasonable. Distill the crunch into the spirit of things. If you enjoy a good tactical miniatures war game - 5E is still a great ruleset. It won't have the depth of 3.5 or 4, but the rules governing all of the numeric aspects are there in relative balance.

Your prep should focus on the type of game your table plays. I'm starting to think there's something compelling about the tactical miniatures game that 3.5 and 4E support, despite loving the principles of the OSR that largely conflict with them. They're just a different game. Love them for what they are.

PCs Without Stats Part II: Euphoria!

 A few months ago I wrote a post about PCs without Stats. Since then, further inspired by both Tracy Hickman's XDM (I desperately wish this book would run another printing) and the FKR movement I've run a couple of games in a stat-less, FKR style to great success. The first was a fixed scenario with pre-generated characters and the second was on a whim choosing an adventure I already knew by heart and having the players quickly make up PCs (no stats = no rolling) before play.

What I've found is nothing new - but surprisingly re-affirming of all the benefits hailed by OSR and FKR proponents. Namely, by having fewer fixed rules and structured systems not only was I free to make situational rulings, but the players experienced a deeper immersion and that sense of wonder only enjoyed by someone rewarded for trying something crazy.

I was not worrying if my rulings agreed or clashed with other established rules in the game. I could focus on the fictional situation and based on my understanding, map the likelihood of success to a target number. If I needed some oracular input to help set a target number I could roll some dice myself.

The players could focus on their character as a person rather than a character sheet and improvise freely with any strategy that sounded fun, interesting, or in tune with their character. They were not bound by specific and narrow class abilities, nor by the worry that trying something different and creative would necessarily be mechanically sub-optimal. It was a breath of fresh air.

You can dabble in called shots. You can inflict and RP wounds. You can ask how a PC reacts to a situation before calling for a "saving throw". You can ask how a PC attempts to defend themselves from an incoming attack. Don't write rules. Negotiate with the players a bit, make a judgement call and go. Let the table come to a common understanding of the game's limits.

I can spell out the specifics of the "rules" I used in each game further but the core idea is this: all you need is a loosely shared understanding of the PC concept - the sort of things that you expect to be good or bad at based on the archetype and genre - and a single die roll. 1d20, 2d6, d100, 1d6, it doesn't matter - when a PC tries to do something uncertain, judge the difficulty based on the PC and the situation and tell them the target number.

Stating the target number has 2 effects:

1. It clarifies everyone's perception of the situation. 
2. There's more tension in rolling the dice.

Perhaps the player thought something would be much easier, but they miscalculated and need to re-asses. Perhaps the GM forgot an element of the situation and needs reminded. The GM's word is law, but there's room for negotiation.

By abstracting all skill and situational bonuses into a single target number, there's no pause for mental math between rolling the dice and knowing the outcome. The tension is immediately released because everyone knows the outcome the instant the die stops. This is especially apparent when the players attempt something desperate with a more difficult target. They lean forward anxiously. When they fail, it's outrage. When they succeed, it's euphoria. Psychologically, they're being rewarded for taking risks with the sort of high regularly experienced by gamblers. This is the antithesis of playing a safe, optimal, crunchy min-maxed character. This is fucking fun, and they're as engaged as they're ever going to be. 

Yes I'm aware that both benefits of stating a target number are not unique to a stat-less or FKR-style gaming. Telling the players the DC of a check or the AC of a monster is a reasonable way of describing the situation. You can do that in any edition of D&D, Pathfinder, or any other game and my experience has told me that you should! That sort of "meta" communication is no more immersion breaking than to-hit rolls and damage. A common understanding of the situation is worth far more than the rare surprise when a PC misses a high AC monster with a decent roll. In fact, those surprises are very often at the expense of the players.

You can also do the math before you roll dice in any system. TSR-era D&D sort of had this with lookup tables and THAC0. In any game you can subtract all the PC's bonuses from the target number, pre-calculating exactly what is needed from the die before the roll is made. But nobody does. In fact we roll, and if it's exceptionally high or low we skip the math anyway. We prefer adding numbers to subtracting so it takes a very important roll to be worth the effort to stop, pre-calculate the roll needed, and watch it happen. I absolutely recommend you try that sometime.

But all this is to say that by handwaving the math and trusting or negotiating with the GM, you instantly get both benefits. I don't yet know if a lack of specific abilities, additional hit points, or other mechanical benefits typically achieved upon "level up" will negatively affect a long-term adventure or campaign. But I aim to find out.