If you’re been patiently waiting for the return of this series while my attention flitted elsewhere, welcome back! If this is as confusing (not to mention uncomfortable now) as Leonard Part 6, then check out the first post of this ongoing series, and welcome as well!
I’ve had some time to collect my thoughts on this series, which has kind of been all over the place, so I wanted to return with a “POW!”, “BIFF!”, and whatever the hell “ZLOTT!” is (my money is on a magic missile or lightning bolt.) Therefore, we will cover what I’ve learned about old school combat and how to better understand it as a game master (GM.)
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| Fun tip: make cue cards of these and show them at random to the players when they roll a natural 20. |
The first thing you need to know about old school combat is that the Original game didn’t have any rules for combat per se. At this point in its infancy, the game was essentially a supplement to enrich your freeform (free kriegsspiel,) fantasy wargames, specifically ones using the Chainmail rules.
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| Combat rules sold separately |
The combat rules that are now so well-known (roll d20 to hit armor class) were an alternative to the rules in Chainmail, which were included as a simple backup if the consumer didn’t own a copy (which often became the case.)
Now, I’m not saying that you need to dump the alternative-turned-official combat rules to be a true, old school Scotsman. Besides, the ”mad lad” known as the Basic Expert already made a what-if type of retroclone using Chainmail rules for combat with the Original game, for those interested in that kooky, but creative option.
However, I feel even a cursory look at the Chainmail rules can inform your understanding old school combat rules and methodology. I know that money’s tight these days, so I’m going to summarize a couple of salient points here so you can just check out Chainmail on your own time and as funds allow.
First, Chainmail has multiple game modes; about 2-3: a medieval army wargame, a jousting game, and a “man-to-man” skirmish game. Note how these loosely connect with the game modes of old school (A)D&D: Dungeons are pretty much “man-to-man” (or monster-to-man!) The Wilderness can use both the army or “man-to-man” game rules depending on the encounter, plus the jousting game in the corner case of encountering a fighter’s castle in the wilds (where they might challenge the players for their stuff.) Of course, the Domain game is pretty much all clashing armies and sieges.
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| CRY HAVOC!!! |
Second, Chainmail helps fill in the blanks of the alternative combat system; perhaps not specific rules outright, but concepts at the very least. Many of these wargame concepts found their way to other editions of the game in some form or another. Prime examples are morale (because most people and animals do not fight to the death,) and the weapon vs. armor table, which is cribbed from the “man-to-man” matrix, and if you remember, was likely gonked from the beginning.
It is worth mentioning again that the Original game was a niche product for hardcore wargamers, so the creators likely assumed the reader would just know or be familiar with wargame concepts and be able to referee them effectively.
The “Alternative” Combat System, Abstraction, and Role-Playing
Before we get into the mud, blood and havoc cries of combat, I want to point out something that occurred to me about (A)D&D combat; a kind of paradox, if you will
(A)D&D combat has an identity crisis. It tries to be both abstract and concrete; both a whole-unit and singular-figure skirmish game.
What do I mean by this? Well, certain things in (A)D&D combat must be dealt with in the abstract while others require drilling down to more concrete rulings by the GM. The foremost examples of the abstract parts of (A)D&D combat are hit points (HP) and armor class (AC.)
Hit Points
If I had a dollar for every heated discussion I’ve seen online in the past about hit points being “meat” (i.e. physical damage,) or luck, I would be a wealthy man sipping mai tais and snorting happy powder from a shapely, bronzed bottom that has been tanning on my fancy yacht twelve nautical miles from giving a figgly-fugg about the world, but instead I’m writing a blog…about old nerd games. Thing is, that argument was settled a long, long time ago (on this planet, even!)
Yes, Gina! Hit points are both of (or all) the things. In the First Edition, AD&D Player’s Handbook, author Gary Gygax put the argument to bed (or so he thought):
“…A certain amount of these hit points represent the actual physical punishment which can be sustained. The remainder, a significant portion of hit points at higher levels, stands for skill, luck, and/or magical
factors…
…Thus, the majority of hit points are symbolic of combat skill, luck (bestowed by supernatural powers), and magical forces”
Therefore, a first-level Cyneric the Veteran fighter is mostly made up of beefy “meat” insofar as hit points, but Cyneric the Hero or Superhero fighter’s hit points are largely made up of skill, luck, and/or the better side of destiny. The “damage” he takes isn’t really physical damage, but flesh-wounds, dodges, parries, near-misses, feints, etc. That 50-foot fall that would kill an ordinary person? Nothing but Hollywood magic for higher-level characters. The fall still hurts (a lot,) but maybe the character bumped into some things that slowed their fall to some bumps and bruises, a sprain, or whatever. It doesn’t matter! It’s abstract! Yes, I may have fibbed a little when I said (A)D&D characters don’t have plot protection. They do, and it’s called hit points, but when those are gone, so is your character’s plot protection. Buh-bye!
Being that my dear readers are likely possessed of above-average Intelligence scores (you rolled 4d6 and dropped the lowest, huh?), I bet the gears and lights in your head are going off about the abstraction of “hits” in general: is weapon damage abstract too? Are hit rolls really one attack, or a series of attacks, or either? Yes, yes, and yes! Give yourself a gold star! Go you!
A “to hit” roll is an abstraction of the effectiveness of attacks that round rather than the results of one particular slash of a sword or thrust of a spear (but it still could be, with missile weapons and cases like called shots, see below.) Concurrently, variable weapon damage (as of the Greyhawk supplement and later) may or may not correlate to how big or scary a weapon is. Other factors may come into play, such as the perceived skill or effectiveness of the “unit” using it. Since AD&D, for example, the crossbow has been considered woefully under-powered in comparison to the longbow, but consider that the lower damage may be because crossbowmen are a cheaper, lower value unit than longbowmen, which require more time train, and have an appropriate, higher point unit cost in Chainmail; food for thought.
So the key takeaway here is that in old school (A)D&D, a “hit” is not necessarily a hit, and “damage” is not necessarily damage. Capiche?
This leads me to my first tip for GMs concerning “to hit” rolls: don’t feel the need to describe what happens with every roll. I used to do this, but it would just kill suspension of disbelief as I attempted to rationalize the difference between one hit point of damage and six, plus it just slows down play. Again, it doesn’t matter. What happens when a character reaches zero hit points or less is probably more important for those that are interested in the role-playing aspects of the game.
While I’m not really into the role-paying game (RPG) reality show Critical Role and GM Matt Mercer’s way of doing things (I get a bad taste in my mouth just thinking about it,) there is one thing he does that I approve of, which is letting a player describe that last kill-hit on an opponent or monster. It throws a bone to players that want a little more role-play and is in keeping with the abstraction concept of hit points.
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| I think I’m gonna vomit…excuse me… |
Armor Class
The other (somewhat) abstract concept in old school (A)D&D is armor class. Even though it is expressed as a (descending) number, it is not a target number to roll in old school games like in newer editions, but really a category of the effectiveness of the armor worn (and/or shield carried.) Third class armor (plate) is better than Seventh class armor (leather) like First Class is better than Business, Business is better than Coach, and you will never know because that’s all you can afford on your paltry salary, peasant!
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| Leave plate armor to your betters! A flea-bitten, leather gambeson should be enough for the likes of you! |
The system was apparently drawn from one of co-creator Dave Arneson’s warship games about ironclads in the Civil War going at each other in futility, which he then extrapolated to armored warriors beating each other into scrap; seems legit to me!
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| Knight 1: “Look, you stupid bastard, you’ve got no hit points left!” Knight 2: “Yes I have! Look!” (*shows character sheet*) |
Therefore, armor class is a measure of the chances that a “hit” on a character will be effective (as in grievous wounding or death,) and not necessarily how difficult a character is to strike. "But Weregrog!" I hear you say. "Doesn’t Dexterity modify opponent's hit rolls or AC since at least the Greyahwk supplement? Got you now, you poser!"
Well, look who knows so much! Maybe I should let you write this so that I can go back to my imaginary yacht! Yes, there is some element of agility that factors into AC, clearly, but this is a small aspect of its abstract nature. The real factor of an agile, skilled, and/or lightly-armored fighter is not AC, but hit points.
Let me explain…actually, I’ll let Black Vulmea (the blogger, not Robert E. Howard’s pirate character) from the Really Bad Eggs blog explain, because he put it so succinctly back in 2012. Check it out, and in the meantime, I’ll sip my drink and fantasize about that yacht.
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| I know the Cutty Sark Whisky ship is technically a clipper, and not a yacht, but that’s all I could imagine since I grew up on these 'booze n babes' commercials. Maybe that’s why I’m so messed up. |
Now that we understand each other about the abstractions of AC and HP, (as well as my possible alcoholism and misogynistic tendencies,) let’s move on to juicier fare.
Critical Hits, Called Shots, and Other GMing Bugaboos
The abstractions of hit points an armor class in (A)D&D will often run counter to the granularity necessary for creative players’ decisions in combat. What’s a GM to do when a player wants to disarm an orc, or decides to “go for the eyes, Boo! Go for the eyes!”?
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| “RRRAAASK”?! (Being that Minsc and Boo are copyrighted characters, I opted for their “Great Value” knockoffs.) |
Different editions have had different solutions for this problem, whereas you could argue that the creators if the Original game didn’t think it was a problem at all, since they likely trusted the GM to make rulings suitable for their tables.
The second Supplement for the Original game, Blackmoor, had hit location/critical hit tables, but these were kind of messy, and were abandoned by Basic and Expert+ versions of the game in addition to the Advanced game. The First Edition of the same actively dissuades the GM from using hit location and critical tables, while the Second Edition places the decision back in the GM’s hands, with advice on what could happen either way (using critical hits or not) and introduces a “called shot” (specific attack maneuver) mechanic with a 20% penalty (-4) for characters attempting them. The Third Edition later makes the misguided decision of making these attempts woefully punitive, with both the -4 penalty and a chance for the opponent to have a free “attack of opportunity,” unless the player pays the price for the appropriate “feat” for one, specific maneuver. As I’ve mentioned before, the more a character has on their sheet, the less they can actually do.
Personally, I prefer the Second Edition way of doing called shots. The -4 penalty makes things a little difficult for low-level characters, but is largely a nonissue for heroic-level characters (esp. fighters.) There is an important caveat, however: I respect the abstract nature of (A)D&D combat. In other words, nothing permanent or fatal happens unless hit points are at zero, since these also denote a character’s luck and skill at avoiding terrible injury. No severed limbs, gouged eyes, plucked organs, or rolling heads; i.e. no auto-kills. I am all for that noble paladin employing the Obi-Wan Strategy to subdue a malefactor, but it just doesn’t happen as intended unless that HP has been depleted first.
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| Pictured: the Obi-Wan Strategy (don’t worry, Ponda Baba still has one hit point left…I think.) |
For less-than-lethal called shots (disarms, trips, grapples, sand-in-the-face, Three Stooges antics, etc.,) I allow the victim a saving throw, since I feel it is reasonable for stronger, more experienced characters and monsters to not fall for these tactics as much or as often. Players, being humans after all, tend to be creatures of habit, so they'll get lazy and spam the button of a tactic that works over and over until it doesn't work anymore. This keep them on their toes.
When it comes to critical hits of any kind, I tend to leave the choice up to my players, with the understanding that what is good for the goose is good for the gander (their opponents can have critical hits too.) This often dissuades them from using such mechanics; probably because fantastic medieval worlds don’t have much in the way of disability compensation for veteran dungeon delvers.
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| Dear Adventurer, a review of your disability claim by the Department of Dungeoneers’ Affairs (DA) has concluded that since only one of your testicles was torn off by the owlbear during your tour of duty in the Caves of Chaos, you are only entitled to a 10% disability rating. Thank you for your service. |
Conclusion
In order to get back into old school (A)D&D combat, I felt I had to understand its origins as a multi-mode wargame and reconcile the abstract and concrete aspects of the "alternative" combat system, so that that I could rule on these as a GM more effectively. I have come to terms with the idea that (A)D&D combat has an identity crisis, but I’ve found it can be a feature rather than a bug as long as one understands its limitations and can work with them instead of against them.
In our next installment, we’ll continue to talk about combat and how it applies to player characters, along with some tips, and tactics, such as how effective, old school adventuring parties should fight as a unit rather than individuals.
See you then!
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| Just when you thought Mr. Murder Hobo wasn’t making an appearance this post…you get an entire party! |
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