The Deulist - Factoring Constitution, Dexterity, and Strength in Swordplay (Is There Anything Wrong with AD&D? Part III)

 One of Hughes' (actually Kevin Mowery, according to his website) critiques is a question of how high ability scores reflect bonuses to combat scores.  Constitution adds hit points, Dexterity reduces Armor Class and Strength increases chances to hit.  He argues that the specific bonuses do not reflect the abstract combat accurately.

Only the Fighter class benefits from a higher Constitution, for example.  "A fighter with an 18 Con," he says, "is luckier and more agile than a thief with 18 Con, and has better divine favor than a cleric with 18 Con."  I understand the argument.  Hit points tend to reflect, according to the 1e Player's Guide, "combat skill, luck (bestowed by supernatural powers) and magical forces."  If the character has a bonus to hit points due to constitution, then that must mean all of those factors are considered, which is inconsistent with what Constitution represents.  Alternately, the fighter benefits from physical toughness more than other characters, which does not reflect a reality.

However, part of the hit point "combat skill" involves how easily someone wears themselves out.  In combat, often the fighter with the most conservative movements lasts through the battle.  I have seen seasoned fencers dominate younger, faster fencers simply because of reserved movement.  Eventually, the younger fencer, who has been throwing themselves at the older, more experienced fencer left and right, tires and leaves themselves open for a simple attack.  Other times, the quickness of an experienced fencer's blade work tires his opponent for him, as the inexperienced one overcompensates his parry too often and starts to slow down.  Constitution, then, isn't about how thick the body is, but how it conserves its energy in a fight.  This is why characters receive a Constitution bonus for every level, rather than only once.  Similarly, fighters have more benefits from higher scores because that is what they are trained to do - manage their energy for combat.  Thieves, magic-users, and clerics, while gaining some experience in combat, do not have this focus.

So if hit points do not reflect simple physical damage, why does Dexterity offer bonuses to Armor Class instead of hit points?  If not every hit point reduction is due to a real and authentic 'hit' on the character, Dexterity could be used to represent that, instead.  However, considering Constitution bonuses partially represent how easily a character tires out, and level increases partially represent a learned conservation of movement, adding hit points because of movement is contradictory.  Instead, the bonus goes to Armor Class because someone does not need to train to have fast reflexes.  In combat, a reaction is rarely unexpected.  The strategy of sword fighting is to cause the opponent to act or react in a way that the attacker has already planned.  Even when attacks are expected, it is difficult for someone to respond to them if they have allowed their actions to be dictated for them.  Dexterity, though, represents that last-ditch untrained response to an attack - jumping back out of range at the last second, ducking or turning to the side to avoid a blow.  This is something that anyone with a high Dexterity can do, not just those trained specifically in fighting, thus Dexterity affects Armor Class.

Strength, though, is a raw ability that comes into play fairly often in combat, which is why only fighters have the benefit of exceptional scores in that ability.  Part of this is due to learning how to hold and use a weapon.  The rest, though, comes from someone bearing down on an opponent with sheer brute force.  More than once, I have had my blade knocked out of attack range, even when I was anticipating - or encouraging - a parry to my attack, simply because my opponent was a gorilla.  Other times, I've given up points or have been stung by a slapping blade because my parry against that gorilla wasn't forceful enough.  Sometimes, just fencing someone twice my size has worn me out because a) their bulk makes them slow, so I rely on my speed and move around more, or b) their attacks and parries are so strong my arm is wrenched left and right during the bout.  Now imagine someone with a rapier, an elegant and quick weapon, trying to parry a mad barbarian's bastard sword.  It can be done, but even a successful deflection is still going to result in some damage.

Other game systems I have seen, especially those that simulate direct play-by-play exchanges, do not take these factors into account.  A parry means a parry, simply, and no side-effects result from that parry.  Hit points are directly a representation of how much punishment someone can take, and fatigue, learned conservation, or the rigors of being in combat with someone twice the size of the attacker are ignored.  Worse is when dodging is regulated purely for defending against missile weapons, while parries are used only for melee weapons.  Where, then, is the side-step or retreat-step?  Besides, each and every attack made at an opponent is not necessarily intended to connect or cause damage; they're intended to bring the opponent into a rhythm of parries and counter-attacks, leaving them open to an attack on a different quarter.  If one of these attacks lands, great!  But there is no game system that accurately relates this idea in a blow-by-blow simulation.  It requires a generalization.

 This system, of course, relies on imagination on the part of the players and GM.  They don't rely on a series of dice rolls to recount the scene for them.  Instead, they take generalities and use them to tell an exciting story, as they interpret the dice. 

Related Links
Mark Damon Hughes: RPG: What's Wrong with AD&D?
Fencing.Net

Of Elves, Wizards, and Plate Mail (Is There Anything Wrong with AD&D, Part II)

This is my first response to a specific criticism of AD&D offered by Mark Damon Hughes on his website What's Wrong with AD&D?  In the section Metal and Magic and Multiclassing, he prints a few points made by Dr. Erin D. Smale on wearing armor while casting spells and the seeming irrationality behind multi-classing rules.  Like the other issues that Mark points out on his page, these are some valid points that really need to be addressed because as new games were developed, each with its own sensibilities, people demanded explanations for rules that seemed arbitrary.  Most of the choices that Gygax made in the development of AD&D followed conventions and standards of the (especially pre-Tolkien) fantasy genre.  Times have certainly changed since then, and most of those conventions have either been re-imagined, refined, or re-defined.

So let's look at these questions that Dr. Smale asks about AD&D:

1. Why are multi-classed demi-human magic-users permitted to wear metal armour but human magic-users are not? . . . 2. Why are demi-humans restricted in level advancement? . . . 3. Why can multi-class demi-human magic-users wear armour but single-class demi-human magic-users can't? . . . 4. How are other multi-class character abilities justified in contrast to their single-class restrictions?

The good doctor points out the inconsistencies in logic with the usual answers to those questions, and I agree:  those answers are inconsistent and incorrect.  Game balance has little to do with the answer (at least, if we understand game balance to mean equalizing power between characters of comparable level).  In fact, game balance in relation to level limits was considered after the fact, with the publication of Unearthed Arcana. 

Why are demi-humans restricted in level advancement?  Looking to Dr. Smale's specific questions, it's easier to answer the second one first because the answers to the others are closely related to one another.  Part of the issue with AD&D multi-classing is a loose distinction between racial culture and genetics.  Are elves adept at magic due to their nature or hundreds of years of their society's development of mystic arts?  Like most of the ideas behind AD&D, there is a tendency to blur specifics - this time done in an attempt to leave things mysterious and exciting.  Either way, there was a specific idea people had in their head when they thought of high-fantasy elves, and while original (Basic) D&D preserved that idea by making demi-humans their own classes, AD&D had to do the same thing while still allowing some variation to class.  This was done by limiting single-class levels for demi-humans but opening the door for multi-classing, something that humans are not allowed to do.  It suggests that multi-class identities are more likely among the demi-humans, especially since a multi-class character can assume a combined level almost twice as high as a single class.  As one can see, the limits to character class are meant to guide identity and character more than balance power.  Furthermore, most of the reasons that the mechanics work the way they do are meant as an explanation of why we see particular conventions at almost every turn. 

To address one of Dr. Smale's other criticisms, elves show their affinity for magic through their likelier multi-class choices: fighter/magic-user, fighter/magic-user/thief, magic-user/thief, and fighter/thief.  Elves and half-elves are the only characters that may multi-class as magic-users.  Elves are not more "adept" at magic use than humans, but they certainly are more used to it as part of their lifestyle and culture. 

This sounds a bit as though I'm defending a purely mechanical choice that reflects an idea without supporting a real-world (even if that world is a fantasy world) rationale.  However, keep in mind that while elves, dwarves and halflings have preconceived ideas attached to them, so do humans.  In most fantasy, and in most science fiction, humans are always able to overcome what seems to be impossible odds and defeat more powerful (as a whole) races.  Two conventions about humanity's place in the world (or universe) raise to the forefront: human beings' "insatiable curiosity" and their unlimited potential.  Only from the human perspective do we see demi-human levels as "limited."  It might be more accurate to think of humans as "unlimited" in relation, instead.  Therefore, it doesn't matter how long an elf lives.  Only humans have unlimited potential in noble or demanding pursuits, while anyone can pursue ignoble skills as far as the highest-level thief.

Why are multi-classed demi-human magic-users permitted to wear metal armour but human magic-users are not? . . . Why can multi-class demi-human magic-users wear armour but single-class demi-human magic-users can't?  The first and second questions have the same answer because they are basically the same question: Why are multi-classed magic-users permitted to wear metal armour but single-class magic-users are not?  The answer is in training.  A single-class magic-user simply is not trained in the use of arms and armor, while a multi-classed magic-user is.  Even a dual-classed magic-user has not been trained in the use of armor while casting spells.  Also, as I stated above, AD&D tends to err on the side of generalization.  There are so few spells that do not require somatic (physical) components, that AD&D generalizes all magic spells in regards to casting while wearing armor.  This idea was either unpopular or misunderstood enough that it was changed in 2nd edition AD&D.  Multi-classed magic-users could no longer wear armor while wearing spells, unless they were elves (not half-elves) and were wearing elven chain, "as magic is part of the nature of elves."

How are other multi-class character abilities justified in contrast to their single-class restrictions? Dr. Smale's final question leads him to, perhaps, the best argument for fair game balance between single- and multi-classed characters.  When demi-humans are restricted in single-class pursuits, having multiple classes is a benefit.  Furthermore, they are, more often than not, on par with their single-class human counterparts, if not better due to their versatility.

Eventually, though, a multi-class character will reach level limits.  An elf fighter/magic-user, for example, can only reach levels 7/11, while their human counterpart will continue to advance.  That means the elf's experience total will be 70,001 for the fighter and 375,001 for the magic-user, for a total of 445,002 experience.  An equivalent single-class fighter will be level 10, and an equivalent single-class magic-user will be level 11.  At these levels, the multi-classed elf is a superior character.  But he has reached his limit.  How long will that superiority last while the human magic-user continues to advance? 

Again, humans have unlimited potential, while the other races do not.  This is part of why human beings, in most fantasy settings, are expanding their lands while the other races have been driven to seclusion or face dwindling numbers.  Also, multi-classing suggests that the lines between distinct human concepts are fuzzier for demi-humans.  For elves, magic is such a part of their lives that they would benefit more by including it in their studies.  Similarly, dwarves spend their time fighting underground, sneaking through tunnels and digging through earth, so of course they will have the option of being fighter/thieves.

One can infer that contemporary players are much more interested in seeing characters break conventions than succumb to them.  They don't want to know how an elf's character would develop.  They want to know how their character would break tradition.  This is due in part to our general American philosophy of individualism.  White Wolf games certainly pushed this idea, by explaining factions of monsters and describing how each faction is seriously flawed in one or more ways.  Players were expected to fight against nature or society and, through their individuality, become something better.  Other games, such as D20 D&D, accentuate that idea by making individual characters highly customizable, so much so that characters are rarely restricted by the normal class limitations.  In D&D, this is a trend that started with the AD&D Player Handbooks for the various classes, escalated with the Players' Option line of books, and finally culminated in D&D 3.0.  This is what contemporary players want out of  the hobby - customized personalities instead of roles to play.

Unfortunately, AD&D was always about playing traditional roles, not customized inventions.  The last thing I wanted to point out was that, again, these rules are meant to explain why we see the same conventions over and over again.  Any in-world explanations are going to be after the fact, whether after mechanics are in place or after the racial conventions are decided upon.  Even by the time 2nd edition was printed, people's ideas of certain character races had changed, so the 2nd edition had to reflect that.  For example, dwarves were no longer restricted to 9th level as fighters.  They could reach as high as 15th level!  That's an increase by two-thirds!  This comes from the increased suggestion that dwarves are fighters, rather than the thieves and tunnelers they are portrayed as in The Hobbit.

What happens when we remove all of these restrictions?  Why would a particular race have a preference for one class over another?  Character races will start to lose their individuality.  Aside from superficial differences, such as height, there will be no reason to choose one race over another.  Worse, what happens when multi-classed characters are allowed to advance to unlimited levels?  If the multi-classed character is already more powerful than an equivalent single-class character, allowing unlimited advancement only makes that relative power permanent.  Ultimately, the total personal customization of characters means that lines between races and classes are drawn arbitrarily because, in the long run, they mean nothing.

Related Links
What's Wrong with AD&D?

Is There Anything Wrong with AD&D?

I came across an old website (last modified in 2002) explaining the problems in the AD&D system.  I have heard these arguments before, and to be frank, I've had a lot of the same concerns.  It's funny, though, that when I have sat down to work on developing a game system of my own, I often realize that solutions to apparent problems in the mechanics I am developing are dealt with easily by AD&D rules.  What I've found, more often than not, is that the seeming inconsistencies with the game are usually the result of my own misunderstanding of either the rules or the concepts behind them.  Furthermore, I also realize that despite my preference for older games, I am still a product of the threshold of fantasy storytelling as a preference to adventure gaming.  To be honest, most of the things that are criticized in the AD&D game come from a different style of play and the incompatibility of that play with older game systems.  Furthermore, the older style of play is seen as something that was less refined than today's style of gaming, when that simply isn't the case.  Others more insightful than myself have pointed out that contemporary roleplayers are unable to play in the old style while older gamers have no problem moving between the two.  To me, that suggests that the contemporary style is less refined than the older.

However, it is important that even us older roleplayers look back on the rules systems that we enjoy so much and remind ourselves why they worked so well in the first place and what their intentions were.  To that end, in the next few posts, I'll address some of the issues that Mark Damon Hughes points out on his website (the same one I mentioned earlier).  For the sake of argument, let this first post be a response to his Manifesto.  I believe that most of his criticisms result from a combination of 1) a lack of information about the function of the rules and 2) a completely incompatible playing style with vastly different expectations.  I do want to point out that Mark's criticism and commentary are neither ignorant nor inarticulate.  He makes some good, valid points (and as I said earlier, ones that I have made before, myself).  I even applaud his intentions of contributing to the ongoing process of refining and raising up the hobby.  He just wants something out of AD&D that isn't there and was never intended to be there.  Gary Gygax even noticed the perspective that Mark represents, and Gary had implied on more than one occasion that he intended the game to be played in a certain way that newer and newer players did less and less.  In short, AD&D may not stand up as a purely storytelling game (as the term storytelling is defined by contemporary rpg players), nor does it exist as the height of unadulterated combat-focused gaming.  AD&D is a roleplaying game, and the best of them. 

Related Links
Mark Damon Hughes: RPG: What's Wrong with AD&D?
Lulu download: A Quick Primer for Old School Gaming