L is for Limits

[over the course of the month of April, I shall be posting a topic for each letter of the alphabet, sequentially, every day of the week except Sunday. Our topic for the month is Advanced Dungeons & Dragons: how to approach it, how to run it, how to enjoy a system that deserves to be played NOW, nearly 50 years after its inception. Consider this a 'crash course' in the subject]

L is for Limits...and believe it or not, we really, really like limits in our Dungeons & Dragons game.

Limits are what makes a game a game...at least a game worthy of play. When you play basketball with your friends, you don't score a point just for touching the ball...to score a point you must put the ball through an elevated hoop, suspended higher than (most) people can jump. It is a simple game, but it is a challenging game, and the challenge is a large part of what compels people to play and enjoy it.

AD&D has LOTS of limits built into its rules. There are limits to what classes a given species can play. There are limits to what level a given class-species combination can achieve. There are limits to ability scores based on species and gender (we'll talk about that one in a second). There are limits to how a character may advance and how experience points are acquired. There are limits to what may be carried, limits to resources (arrows, oil, torches, potions, spells). Limits to the number of hit points of damage a character may sustain before winding up dead-dead-dead. Heck, there are even limits to WHICH characters are eligible to be raised from death by magic (sorry to all the elves and orcs!).

All these limits provide boundaries that shape the look and feel and play of the game. They all provide challenges to the participants' desire to do "anything they want," despite ad copy claims to the contrary ("...a game of limitless imagination!"). 

And challenge is what makes it a game worth playing.

FOR EXAMPLE: the character is the player's tool and vehicle for exploring the game world; however, that "tool" is only as effective as the limits of its level. A 1st level character is VERY limited in effectiveness, compared to a 10th level character...even if the two were equipped in similar fashion (equipment and magic items tend to act as a "force multiplier;" they do not (usually) "make" the character). Advancing in level requires the player to earn experience points. Experience points are earned through finding and recovering treasure (these are adventurous treasure-hunters, after all) OR...more minimally...by defeating opponents in combat (valid, given that much of a character's effectiveness is measured in combat ability).  However, engaging opponents in combat COSTS RESOURCES...players lose time, lose hit points, lose consumable equipment, lose spells...and this cost must be weighed against the potential gain.  Because depletion of resources means a reduction in the RANGE at which the player can operate.

[if I spend an hour of my four-hour game session locked in a large combat, I'm using up a quarter of my real world game time in a single encounter, leaving LESS time for more exploration/adventuring. If I lose a large amount of hit points (or fellow player characters) or spells and resources in this large encounter, that leaves me with a decreased amount for further exploration/adventuring. The question becomes: was the battle WORTH it? If pursing this large combat resulted in a large treasure, or opened access to a large treasure, or provided a clue for finding a large treasure...then, maybe. If not, that large combat may end up being a Pyrrhic victory. Assuming it results in victory at all]

But that is the challenge of game play...it is what makes AD&D the game it is. In the present D&D culture, it is a common practice to NOT award experience points but simply to "level up" players at arbitrary chosen places as a reward for accomplishing story goals set by the DM. This is pretty much the opposite of "player agency." Players must jump through the hoops specified by their DM in order to get their cookie. And since the award is subjective and arbitrary (the DM can choose to award a level whenever they "feel like it") nothing the players actually DO or accomplish in the game matters in the slightest. It only matters how generous the DM is feeling on a particular day (which may ranged from "overly generous" to "downright stingy").

Some of us prefer our actions to matter. Some of us prefer to have agency.

HOW ABOUT ANOTHER EXAMPLE: when creating their character in the game, players are LIMITED by two factors: 1) the ability scores they roll, and 2) the class-race combinations that are allowed. Since ability scores are randomly determined, this tends to create a broader swath of "humanity" (including demi-humanity) among the players in some semblance (verisimilitude...again!) of "real life." Not everyone has what it takes to be a paladin, or a ranger, or a monk, or a bard. And so those classes appear with less frequency than simple fighters and clerics and magic-users and thieves...as they should. Likewise, not every species trains the same type of profession. Elves are not particularly religious (perhaps because they cannot be raised from the dead?) and there are no adventuring clerics among their number (their priests are all "stay-at-home" types and limited to NPCs)...this is implied world/setting material as well as a LIMIT on what players can choose.

While the non-humans have limits of choice when it comes to their profession, they also have limits to their maximum achievable effectiveness. 8th level might seem to be an impossibly lofty rank to low-level sloggers of OSR "lite" games, but it's barely more than "mid" for an AD&D campaign...my players can hit 8th pretty easily within a year of play (even with level draining undead). As one might expect, this means the bulk of long-term characters...especially fighter types...are going to end up as humans (who have no level restrictions). The trade-off? Humans gain none of the special abilities of the non-human species (and there's a LOT, especially for dwarves, elves, and halflings), nor do humans have the ability to multi-class (advance in two classes simultaneously) which is a decided advantage of the non-humans, especially at the low-mid levels of play.

Again, we can contrast this with present day (5E) game culture where any character can be any species-class and can achieve any level. Without boundaries, there is no particular challenge save, perhaps the challenge of playing something "original" in a world where all is permitted. However, that by itself (for me) breaks any semblance of verisimilitude as such a world of half-orc bards and halfling paladins, where the greatest fighter in the land can be a gnome and the greatest wizard a dwarf, is just a little too "gonzo" for my taste. I like my fantasy grounded in an accessible world of SOME naturalism, not the cartoon anti-logic of the wildest anime-come-to-screen. There are other RPGs for anime play.

ONE FINAL EXAMPLE: and here I'll talk about the ability score discrepancies between males and females. AD&D places limits on ability scores based on species and that is fine...I have no issue with one species being less agile than another, or less educated, or not built as robustly as another. These are issues of culture (setting/world building) and fantasy physiology. However, with regard to the STRENGTH ability score, AD&D places limits based on female strength in comparison to male strength for each individual species. It looks like this:

• Halfling (M/F)       Max: 17 / 14      +1/+1 or 0/0
• Gnome (M/D)        Max: 18(50) / 15     +1/+3 or 0/0
• Elf (M/F)               Max:  18(75) / 16    +2/+3 or 0/+1
• Half-Elf (M/F)       Max: 18(90) / 17    +2/+4 or +1/+1
• Dwarf (M/F)          Max: 18(99) / 17    +2/+5 or +1/+1
• Half-Orc (M/F)      Max: 18(99) / 18(75)   +2/+5 or +2/+3
• Human (M/F)         Max: 18(00) / 18(50)   +3/+6 or +1/+3

For those who are new to AD&D, understand that the strength ability score goes from 3 to 18, but fighters (including rangers and paladins) with an 18 score roll percentile dice to achieve a "bonus" score of 01 to 00 ("100"). High strength scores provide a bonus to melee combat (very important for sword-swinging fantasy, doubly important for fighter types), as well as a +10% bonus to experience points for fighters with a score of 16+ in strength. Consequently, even though the a max STR male halfling is only getting a +1/+1 to attack/damage rolls versus his female counterpart, the female halfling will be earning less x.p. (as a fighter) because her STR is capped at 14. With this in mind, female gnomes and halflings should probably not even consider fighter as a class.

In my youth, we just rolled with these, as is. Our group included two girls (one my co-DM), both of whom played fighters, and it was never an issue (as in, it simply never came up). There may have been one or two complaints from BOYS in our group (who occasionally played female characters), but we'd simply say "them's the rules, fella." Any player was allowed to play any gender, and we stuck by the rules as written. These days, I'm of a different mind. 

For one thing, while combat issues the major part of STR, in AD&D the issue only starts to get crazy with fighter percentiles...all non-fighters are limited to a max 18 STR, and that's never giving you more bonus than +1/+2. In other words, not much bonus. However, the real issue for me is the added weight allowance, in which any character with STR greater than 11 gets additional carrying capacity. ENCUMBERANCE is one of the limits we LOVE, as it keeps the game firmly grounded in pseudo-reality, rather than the "Minecraft mentality" of unlimited inventory.

Real world carrying capacity is tied to BODY WEIGHT. Yes, men (on average) have a more upper body strength than women, but their ability to carry loads over distance is pretty much the same percentages: 20-30% of body weight for sustainable load over distance; 10-20% of body weight is optimal for speed and endurance, 30-35% sharp drop off in pace with fatigue/injury risk...this latter amount would be a military-style "heavy" load. Military and trekking studies show that women can average 15-25% of their body weight for sustained movement, while men average 20-30% and that fitness and experience matter more than gender for carrying capacity.

It's a fascinating thing to study...and once you do you start seeing the STR chart in the PHB is INSANE. A +300# weight allowance? Even the +100# of a woman limited to 18/50 STR seems outrageous...unless these were additions to the maximum encumbered (staggering around) load. However, it is explicit that this amount is added to the unencumbered rate of movement. Probably because it's a fantasy game and some rules are written for the sake of expedience.

And if it's a fantasy game, then it doesn't matter to me whether the the women-folk are equally strong as the men-folk. As such, in my campaign all members of a species (male, female, and...I suppose...non-binary) use the same maximum STR score (i.e. they all use the number listed for the "male" of their species). 

I guess we only really, really like MOST limits.

; )

L is for Levels

I missed the April A-Z Blog Challenge this year, so I'm doing my own...in June. This year, I will be posting one post per day discussing my AD&D campaign, for the curious. Since 2020, this is the ONLY campaign I run. Enjoy!

L is for Levels...specifically levels of experience. And, specifically, my thought regarding "level restriction."

I considered making this post's subject "languages," but what I was going to say? The human ("Common") tongue is English. Elves speak Spanish (my kids are bi-lingual and tend to play a lot of elves and half-elves, so that's fun). Orcs speak orc, usually (basically unintelligible except with orcs who speak Common/English...but, then, an orc who doesn't speak English is usually not going to be the type to have a conversation with PCs). Dwarves speak...what? Norwegian maybe? (we have a lot of Scandahoovians in north Seattle) Eh. Who cares? It's not worth a long post at this point...although being able to speak languages is important (and helps make demi-human characters viable in the game).

So, instead let's talk about levels. And this time, you won't see a bunch of AI generated content (apologies for that). Though...well, we'll see if that means "improvement" or not.

I love levels. I especially love how they function in AD&D. I love both what they mean, and I love what they do, mechanically speaking. I love level caps, and I use them exactly as written in the 1E Players Handbook, EXCEPT that I use the +2 level bonus rule from the UA for single-classed demi-humans. Only in classes they could normally multi-class, of course (sorry to all the elven assassins).

I've mentioned this stuff in passing, previously, but I wanted to set down my rules about this once and for all. 

Back circa 2020, I went through ALL the races and ALL the classes and ALL the level restrictions (and multi-class restrictions) to see ALL the potential types of characters that might appear in my campaign setting. I looked at the experience point totals across class types; I looked at what special abilities a character would have at particular character level (whether you're talking "access to 6th level spells" or the ability to multi-attack or attract followers or whatnot). And I made my own notations of how far I wanted each race to level in each class (or whether or not I wanted them to have access to a particular class) so that the "feel" of my campaign would be "correct" for how I envisioned my game world.

And what I found was that the rules in the PHB, as written, were pretty much EXACTLY THE SAME as the conclusions I had come to myself. Considering WHAT my game world looked like...for example, what "half-orcs" are or the distinct manner that elves appear in my game...I wanted certain limits to their race's ability to advance in certain areas.  I wanted limitations in place, because I wanted my world to look a particular way.  Maintaining the level limits, as is, allows me to keep the flavor I want: that of a human-centric fantasy world. 

Rule-wise, non-human characters receive a LOT of advantages over humans, not the least of which include the ability to multi-class and the ability to speak multiple languages from the start. However, because of level and class restrictions, humans still have value and thus players are faced with an interesting choice at the time of character creation: choose a race with a plethora of advantages (but a cap on advancement) or choose a human. Life's full of tough choices, and the choices we make says something about us (at least in that particular moment in time).  That's not WHY I retain level limits, it's just something I've observed that I find...worth mentioning.

As I said: "an interesting choice." And when a player begins approaching that level cap another interesting choice comes about: do I want to keep playing this character? Or do I want to start a new character (perhaps one with more potential for advancement)? That, too, is an interesting choice that I've watched both my kids wrestle with. 

In the end, I find it good for the game. Do I want to appease my players by removing level caps so their beloved player can keep going? No, I don't. Attachment to a character is expected to occur when a person puts time and effort into playing a singular PC, but attachment is not desirable. Too much attachment is what leads to things like 5E and death saves and whatnot. Too much appeasement leads to nonsensical gonzo games with half-demon clerics of Law and dragonborn bards croaking songs through a mouthful of flame. 

F. That. Noise.

Tough choices. Look, folks: we live this one life...we make choices, priorities of our time and energy, depending on what we think is important. Right now, I'm writing a blog post because I think practicing my writing and getting out some of my game philosophy and sticking to my A-Z commitment are all MORE IMPORTANT than doing the dishes or folding the laundry (both things I'll do later). When my newly graduated kid wakes up, I'll probably leave off this post (even if it's not yet done) because spending time with my 14 year old, soon-to-be grown-and-gone kid, is more important. The older we get the more choices we seem to be faced with, and the less time we have left to make those choices and decide what our life is about. And who knows what our "life after death" will look like?

Playing D&D with tough choices is good training.

Now, it HAS been suggested that one could allow players unlimited level advancement (in any race) while still presenting players with "an interesting choice" by giving humans various advantages of their own, just as the non-human species have. You see this tack with 3E-5E systems (where they first removed level limits and class restrictions), but I'm talking about Old School DMs adding additional rules and mechanics to the (1E) game...folks that I respect and admire. However, I have MULTIPLE reasons for not going this route and, instead, leaving the level restrictions in place, as is:

1. With regard to levels and racial abilities, the game already functions as written. Why make the effort to "re-balance" humans just in order to "fix" something that already functions?
2. Even if I wanted to make the effort, I don't trust my own ability to balance these restrictions and I observed (in the 3E era) how racial advantages can lead to "optimal builds;" I don't want to risk that and I don't need to because (again) the game already works as written, and I'm not about appeasement.
3. I don't want to "add" anything to humans because I see them as the BASELINE for play. Advantages and disadvantages conferred on nonhumans show how they are exceptional or how they "break" the baseline...how they differ from the baseline. Human ability scores go from 3-18 in every category; humans have access to all classes at the max level obtainable in those classes. Humans start knowing one language; human have normal vision; humans have saves and attacks and armor class as a person of their level and class with baseline abilities.  Humans are the STANDARD...they are the standard of what play would look like if all the nonhumans were to disappear from the game. I do not want to give them a "bonus anything." Humans set the bar...it's a human-centric game...and nonhumans are defined by how they are NOT human.

And WHY is it a human-centric game? Because it is played by humans. Everyone reading my words here (well, except for AI algorithms, I suppose) are humans. The only people to whom the game matters at all (AI really doesn't care about D&D) are humans.

"But I want to be an elf!"  Or whatever. Yes, I know. We play these fantasy games to escape (for a time) from our present reality...RPGs are escapist entertainment by design. But what exactly are you trying to escape from? Where is it that you want to escape to?  I've written before how, as an adventure game, D&D allows us to experience adventures in a way that aren't normally possible and/or particularly safe, convenient, etc. THIS is the type of "escape" D&D provides. The character you play is the vehicle for that escape.

But if what you want to escape from is YOURSELF...if you want to be an "elf" (or whatever) because you really, really, REALLY dislike being a human for some reason...well, that's opening a whole different can of worms with answers (from me) that can range from "play ElfQuest instead" to "seek psychiatric help."

We are humans. We might be old or young or short or tall or fat or skinny or scrawny or brawny or black or white or American or European or gay or straight or WHATEVER. But we are humans. And humans have fears and desires and ambitions and foibles. Humans have good times and bad times; joy and sadness and comfort and stress. Humans have finite life spans and tough choices to make regarding our priorities...playing D&D is NOT going to change that, regardless of whether or not you choose to play a nonhuman creature.

So let's not worry about that...about escaping who we are (since we can't)...and instead focus on what we can do with the game. Which is: experiencing adventure. Risking for reward. Making choices that have consequences that we have to deal with. Trying to succeed (i.e. survive and thrive) within the parameters of the game rules.

"Levels" are a game mechanic that measures both success and character effectiveness. Levels set the parameters, the boundaries, of play in which players must operate. Levels are an objective measure calculated from obtaining objective goals as defined by the game's rules. Levels and leveling ARE the game...if you are sitting in the chair of a player.

Playing a nonhuman will limit your success in the game. And that's okay...in a way, it's playing the game on "easy mode" (especially with the racial advantages your PC receives). "Default" mode is playing with a human character...tougher, but with a lot higher ceiling of success. And all of it measurable because of levels.

I love levels. What a great concept!

Third Level

The trial and error and enthusiasm for the D&D game continues in my household. More dead characters abound. I will relate but a single amusing anecdote:

Diego (my boy) playing two characters simultaneously wanted to return to the lizard god temple mentioned last Thursday. This was his third such foray since the TPK that kicked off the campaign; he's like a dog gnawing at a bone. This time, he was bringing two characters: a cleric ("Brother James") and a magic-user whose name escapes me but who was said to be the younger brother of another mage that had been captured (and ultimately sacrificed) in Diego's second foray to the dungeon. D said he wanted revenge against the cultists (who, just by the way, have not established themselves as evil or anything).

Entering under the guise of new worshippers (and paying an offering in gold for the privilege), the pair made it to the main shrine where they cast sleep, dropping all present into a deep slumber. They then proceeded to steal the golden idol from the altar stone and abscond with it before anyone was the wiser. Back in the city, they sold its emerald eyes to a gnome gem-cutter and its gold body to a jeweler that paid them its weight in coin. Diego then congratulated himself mightily.

"Do you feel like you've gotten sufficient revenge for your brother's death?" Um...

The kid realized he'd been so excited at his ruse/petty theft working that he'd forgotten his vendetta entirely ("I should have killed them while they were asleep!")...and indeed, has made dangerous enemies who will certainly be seeking payback of their own for the defilement of their temple. Probably with a hired assassin (time to start working on those subclass rules...).

The more I hone my play, the more I focus on my campaign setting, the more dross and detriment I find myself doing away with. You really, really don't need a "thief" class to play this game (though I can see how one might be helpful in certain instances). And critical hits? Sheesh...I've axed them from the game after a single session and mine were really easy.

[my crit rule was simple: roll a natural 20, do max damage. I did this because I felt players would dig the "excitement" that came with hitting that nat 20 and that they would want some type of reward for the lucky happenstance. In practice, *I* was the one rolling the nat 20s...and why not, when I was acting as so many more NPCs?...which just meant PCs getting cut down faster. That being said I am keeping the "natural 1 attack risks losing your weapon" rule, which I hope will...eventually...affect the NPCs more than the PCs, for the same reasons]

Mostly, I'm running the game as originally written, with very few rule additions...most of which come directly from Mr. Gygax's (stated) house rules. However, there's been one Gygaxian house rule I've studiously avoided since the get go: starting all player characters at 3rd level of experience. I know I've written about this before (most recently back in 2018) and how I find it objectionable from both a design point of view and from general principal.

I've changed my mind.

All PCs in my campaign are now starting at 3rd level. I know there are folks reading this who are going to "tap out" of this discussion as soon as they read that sentence...I'm not the only person that likes to stand on principal. But I've thought about this a lot the last couple days (especially as I've gained more experience with the OD&D system) and I want to enumerate all the reasons I've decided this to be a sensible approach:

• Enhanced survivability: characters get an extra two hit dice. On average this means they can absorb two more blows (one more as a magic-user) than a normal beginning character, giving the player time to re-evaluate a bad tactical decision (i.e. fighting a superior foe). There's some "wiggle-room" for the player, in other words, rather than a "oh, you made a bad decision and/or just got unlucky" one-shot kill result. At least, THOSE situations are more rare when PCs start with more hit points.
• Retained low level experience: no OD&D character gets their first "step up" in attack table or saving throw matrices before 4th level (fighting men only). Heck, no character class gets extra weapon proficiencies (their first new one would be gained at 4th level); characters are left with the same basic "skills" as they had at 1st level.
• Emphasize player skill: with regard to handling starting equipment of a 3rd level character, I allow the players to choose whatever they want off the basic equipment list, with the caveat that they must be able to carry it on their person (in addition, they automatically receive a light horse, saddle, and saddle bags). Players still roll "starting gold" (3d6x10), but this is coin wealth, not equipment. Rather than force players to conform to random chance with regard to what gear they take, they are only limited by their own wishes/choices and encumbrance...and encumbrance is a major part of the game.
• Bonuses received are minor but helpful: a magic-user has three or four starting spells (one of 2nd level), a cleric has two or three (all first level) and the ability to turn monsters up to wraith, and fighters can make three attacks per round when in melee with "lesser" opponents (men and monsters of 1 HD or less). This provides a little more variation/utility to how PCs approach challenges and it isn't so much as to be overwhelming to the new player.
• More game content available: DMs working with 1st level characters...especially inexperienced players using 1st level characters...are forced to walk on eggshells with regard to scenarios, monsters, and challenges presented. Goblins, kobolds, normal men, and giant rats (all in small numbers) are about the only thing such PCs have a decent chance against...and even then, poor luck can quickly mean the death of a character or five. The higher level of the PCs opens a larger range of possible opponents to delight and astound the players. The scenario I've written for today's game includes an encounter with ice trolls (adapted from the Fiend Folio)...2 hit die monsters with minor regeneration. Those should be both fun and different for the players to confront! Also, falling into a pit is less likely to break your character's neck.
• Starting at 3rd level does not preclude low level characters in the game: in the past, I've asked 'If all PCs start at 3rd level, why even bother writing rules for 1st and 2nd level?' There are two very good reasons for this: 1st and 2nd level characters are fantastic for NPCs (wizard apprentices and under-clerics, or up-and-coming heroes) especially the retainers for the player characters (which must start at 1st level). The other reason is that players may end up playing lower level characters: if their main PC dies and they want to take control of a valued henchman, that might well mean playing a character of lower level. And don't forget energy drain! Wights are highly appropriate encounters for 3rd level characters, and it's not too tough to imagine players being drained to a lower level than that at which they started.
• Still retains the "joy" of paying your dues: in OD&D, it takes a player the same number of experience points to get from 3rd to 4th level as it does to get from 1st to 3rd. All you've done is halved the distance...and the slog...of getting there. And even though your character is "paying dues" by fighting low HD monsters, the emphasis becomes more about the treasure, as the x.p. yield from lower HD monsters is fractional, using the PCs' level as a denominator (i.e. those 1 hit die orcs only yield 33 x.p. instead of 100 x.p. to the 3rd level character; you need to kill three times as many for the same reward). I'm not sure you're cutting more than handful of sessions from the character's career...and if it's half a dozen sessions of dross, so much the better.
• Adequately handles the elf (and half-elf) "issue:" I actually like the OD&D mechanics of elves multi-classing...the handling of elves in OD&D generally has given me a lot of grist for my campaign setting which I will, perhaps, discuss in a later post (hint: I'm going Moorcock, not Tolkien, with the species). Unfortunately, you have an issue of the beginning elf character: is it assumed to be 1st/1st level from the get-go (thus giving the player an extra level compared to other adventurers?) or does it simply become 1st/1st in its second game session (when the player decides to switch classes solely with the purpose of picking up a much needed extra hit die)? By starting the PCs at 3rd level, I require elves (and half-elves who have the same capability) to chose which classes gain which levels: i.e. they start as a 1st/2nd fighter/magic-user or a 2nd/1st fighter/magic-user (half-elves with a wisdom of 13+ must be a 1st/1st/1st fighter/magic-user/cleric).Players can thereafter choose to split (or neglect) their advancement as they see fit, but all issues of "training" multiple classes are handled.

The "3" is for third level.

For all these reasons, I have no qualms about allowing PCs to begin their OD&D careers at 3rd level, just as "Grandpa Gary" claims to have been running for his own game. As I wrote at the beginning, I'm sure there are folks who will object to my reasoning out-of-hand, but until play-testing shows me the error of my ways, this is what I'm going with. I'll let y'all know how it goes, but right now I feel pretty good about this decision (as ever, I reserve the right to change my mind).

Pax.

Certifying Dungeon Masters

Man, my brain has really been addled by all things D&D lately ("The Sleeper has awakened!")...if I wasn't so busy with a gazillion other things, I could/would be posting multiple blog entries on a daily basis (and probably still find the time/energy for drafting some campaign notes/house rules). *sigh* Such is life...when I have LOTS of time on my hands, my inertia always seems to be the other direction.

ANYway, I was combing through a bunch of old Dragon magazines the other day (specifically the first 50 or so), looking for a particular article, and kept coming across little buried "gems," pertinent to my own thoughts and musings. As I've often found over the last ten years of blogging/researching there really isn't all that much new under the sun...people have been obsessing and coming up with ideas and putting 2 and 2 together for a long, long time. The execution wasn't always quite right, but the early days of the hobby were still "early days;" lots of stuff hadn't been worked out yet. And yet some of our adaptations of these ideas (or decisions to go 180 degrees directions, in certain instances) are/were even more flawed than the original stab at the kernel of a concept.

[I'll give you one quick example: I've recently come to the conclusion that Alexis Smolensk's system of awarding experience points based on damage inflicted and received (in addition to XP for treasure found), is really the only sensible way of handling combat/encounter XP, and have decided that I'll probably adapt it wholesale in my next campaign. Welp, Dragon #36 (April 1980) already proposed this variant system ("Experience Points to Ponder: A New System" by William Fawcett). Alexis has the advantage of a bit more thoughtful design and about a decade of play testing...but someone had a similar idea (and for the same reasons) almost thirty years prior]

But I don't want to get sidetracked...the reason I decided to open up Ye Old Laptop and post something (instead of doing what I should be doing) is because I just have to mention this idea from Dragon #28 (August 1979). In an article entitled "Level Progression for Players and Dungeon Masters," writer Jon Mattson proposes a method of awarding experience points to players and DMs (not characters) based on their actual gaming experience, in order to provide an objective measure of ability.

This is something I've been thinking about for years, and only more so since considering the discussions I've had (both on the internet and in-person with other designers) about the possibility of training or certification for game masters. My opinion is that some sort of training for individuals who want to run games is not only desirable but necessary, and that the lack of good, codified training is detrimental to the hobby (some of my blog posts have mentioned this in passing). But I've often wondered how one would go about certifying a person as a credible, proficient GM.

Because here's the thing: it really doesn't matter all that much to me how experienced a player is at a table (neither as a DM or a fellow player), but it matters a LOT to me how competent a Dungeon Master is running the game. Because my enjoyment of a game session hinges on whether or not the DM can do his or her job at the table. And it is, frankly, very difficult for me to come back to the table of a DM whose game I neither appreciate nor respect (I don't think I've ever walked away mid-game from such a DM...I'm a little too polite for that...but I have come away from game sessions feeling frustrated, angry, and vowing to never waste another chunk of my time with that same dungeon master)...even if the person running the game is a friend that I like and respect.

Mattson's article provides the following experience point awards for DMs (he also provides some awards for playing/running other games that might have a certain "carryover" effect, but I'm just going to stick to the ones that are Dungeons & Dragons specific):

Per campaign* of basic D&D you play:  60
Per campaign* of basic D&D you DM:  900**
Per campaign* of Original D&D you play:  80
Per campaign* of Original D&D you DM:  1200**
Per campaign* of Advanced D&D you play:  100
Per campaign* of Advanced D&D you DM:  1500**

* Mattson considers a campaign to be "one full adventure, i.e. if a group of characters set out to explore a five level dungeon, the whole five levels (and only those five levels) would count as one campaign." While I take this to mean that XP is not awarded every session for a multi-session, site-based adventure, the article does not indicate what counts as finishing a "campaign;" should a DM be awarded full XP if a party abandons an adventure site, or if the delve ends in a Total Party Kill? I'm inclined to say "Yes" since that's the outcome of the "campaign," but I'm not sure that's the author's intent.
** Per Mattson, only two-thirds of this amount is awarded if the DM did not design the adventure (for example, if a published module was used). This seems reasonable to me, awarding one-third XP each for writing/designing, game prep, and actual running. 

Being written in 1979, the only "basic D&D" the author could be referring to is the Holmes-written basic set. B/X (published in 1981) is much more similar in complexity and rule scope to OD&D and I'm inclined to put both it and the later BECMI in that category. 2nd edition AD&D would go into AD&D, and you could probably put all "later editions" (3rd, 4th, 5th) there as well...but then some might argue that the objectives of play are so different for later systems (especially 4E) that they really need to be put into the "other games" category for simple "carryover" XP.

[maybe you'd need to have "multi-class DMs" these days with XP split between Old and New school. Ha!]

The advancement table for Dungeon Masters in the article looks like this:

Level 1: Initiate     0-1499 experience points
2: Apprentice     1500-2999
3: Expert     3000-4499
4: Overseer     4500-5999
5: Supervisor     6000-8999
6: Moderator     9000-11,999
7: Mediator     12,000-17,999
8: Arbitrator     18,000-24,999
9: Referee     25,000-34,999
10: Referee, 1st Class     35,000-49,999
11: Judge     50,000-74,999
12: Dungeonmaster     75,000-99,999
13: Dungeonmaster, 13th level     100,000-124,999
14: Dungeonmaster, 14th level, etc.     125,0000 plus 25,000 per level after 14th

[ha! There's also a note that Dungeonmasters of 18th level or higher may also be called "Overlord." I dig on that!]

I'm sure that some folks reading this are going to just shake their heads and call it all ridiculous. After all, the mark of a good DM should include something about how they're evaluated by their players, right? How they interact, how they arbitrate, how they smooth over difficulties and deal with troublesome issues? Not to mention how they improvise and adapt, how they role-play monsters and how much fun is had by all? Certainly, if a DM is giving the impression to everyone who joins the game that he/she is an asshole, it shouldn't matter whether they've run five adventures or five hundred, right?

Maybe. But maybe we need to have some concrete "measurables" to measure. Maybe there is something about a person who writes, preps, and runs a game getting better at writing, prepping, and running games. And maybe that's kind of important when you're emphasizing the game aspect of the hobby and not the "oh, it's just another way to socialize and interact with buddies in a casual, geeky fashion." Sure, yes, that's a thing...but some folks want a higher standard of gaming. I know I do.

Mattson's article isn't a bad starting place for such a discussion. Going over my own DMing history (as best I can remember it), and sticking with only these XP awards (and counting B/X play as "basic" rather than OD&D, and not counting any post-2E experience), I'll say I conservatively calculate my own experience as 65,420, giving me a rank of "Judge," but being about 10,000 shy of "name level." If I upped the awards for B/X campaigns and included awards for other games I've run (there have been many...including 3E D&D), it's possible I might crack 12th or even 13th level, but I'm inclined to leave it as is...a good indication of my "rank" in terms of Old School D&D.

Which...frankly...is about all I care about these days.

And which ALSO means, I've got room to grow. I'd certainly like to be worthy of the "Dungeon Master" title ("Overlord" seems like a pipe dream any time in this lifetime). But, being honest here, I've still got plenty to learn and discover. "Judge" actually sounds about right (I'm pretty judgmental). "Mastery" is something I'm working on.

Anyhoo, I welcome thoughts and ideas on the subject, and ways one might use this (or a similar) objective system to analyze quality, skill, and competence...or any differing opinions from folks who feel this line of thought is unnecessary or impossible. Also, I invite anyone who feels so inclined to post how they level themselves (using this system) in terms of "old school DM experience." To be perfectly honest, I'd like to see how I rank in comparison to the other DMs out there.

Just please: no taking XP for 5E games. I don't care if they're run in an "old school" way or not.

High Level D&D

For men, there're few things more juvenile than comparing the size of one's penis as a method of bragging to (or belittling) friends and rivals alike. Most guys with a modicum of maturity of course realize this, and any banter is likely to be somewhat tongue-in-cheek. But I think it's safe to say that any man in a healthy relationship with a satisfied partner cares little about the size of his cock; the fact that it functions is a far more important matter to his confidence and sense self-worth.

There's a lot of correlation between comparing character level (in a D&D game) and comparing the size of one's dick. What really matters is whether or not you're playing at all; whether or not you're enjoying yourself.

And yet, back in the day, there was more than a bit of this kind of thing. "Oo, my character is level 15." "Oh, yeah? Well, mine is level 19." "HA! The characters in our campaign are all 24th level!" There's nothing quite so nerdy as nerds nerding out over some nerd hobby, but it is (perhaps) human nature. Or at least the nature of boys (it's rare I've heard this specific type of bragging from female gamers, except as a matter of shutting up some mouthy kid). Coming from mature male gamers (i.e. "old geezers") boasting of character level isn't really a thing...it lacks class, I suppose, though it may just be the shift in perspective that comes with age lends itself to a different type of bragging ("Back in my day, we had to walk 20 miles and fight a dragon in the snow for a bag of silver pieces...and we were damn thankful to get it!"). 

Yeah, it's probably just a male thing. Like comparing dicks.

In response to yesterday's post in which I reflected on "old school" level advancement (as discussed in Gygax's article from issue #7 of The Strategic Review), Scott wrote:

Ok leveling. 18th level or whatever always struck me a silly. The sweet spot for d&d, at least in 3E and beyond, is about level 3-6. You can take on 10th level opponents like dragons with planning and luck, and that’s thrilling. Once you get a handful of 4th level spells, it stops resembling the source fiction. 

 In my own home game, 10th level is a great achievement. We’ve played about 50 sessions and the highest level guys are 6 and 7. And that’s a little slow, but it’s okay because the threats can stay at an imaginable level and there’s always something out there that can kill you with a snap of its fingers.

Scott comments here frequently (which is nice...thanks!) but this is the first time I remember feeling riled up by something he wrote. Maybe. Let me try to articulate my thoughts in a coherent, constructive manner.

First off: 3rd edition...and 4th edition and 5th edition...can all go to hell. If those are your editions of choice, that's great: love them, play them, play the heck out of them, introduce new people to "D&D" using them...whatever. At this time, my reflections and writings are unconcerned with late edition versions of the game...I just cannot care less. Had a very nice conversation with a very nice gentleman yesterday about 5E and comparing it to older editions. I was patient and listened, but there was nothing he could say that had me the slightest bit interested. Until further notice, I am done with any post-2000 rulesets. If you can find something in my posts that work for your later edition game: great! But if you don't: eh. No skin off my nose.

OKay...moving right along: what Scott wrote is something I've heard before, more than once. I've heard it from AD&D players, I've heard it from folks in my B/X games, I've heard it from dudes who play those editions for which I give not a shit. Something along the lines of "the best play of the game (D&D) is somewhere in the mid-levels." The notorious "sweet spot" after which games simply become "silly." That high level play seems downright super heroic (as in, comic book superheroes) compared to the grubby, By Crom, low-powered pulp adventure action that comprises low to mid-level play.

Bullshit, says I.  But that's the TL;DR answer...the real answer is a little complicated.

Gygax's "silly" character.

While I'll agree with the early writers of the game (Gygax and others) that levels in the 30s and 40s (and up) are patently ridiculous and pretty much outside the scope of play as intended, there is plenty of good, solid play that can occur for characters of "high level;" say levels 14-24. There are some threats/opponents that just can't be approached by characters under the 16th level or so, and certain adventures that I consider pure "pulp literary fantasy" (like those involving extraplanar travel) are all-but-inaccessible to characters of low level.

What IS silly is the way many (most) of us "old geezers" played as kids when we first got our hands on the game: dishing out millions of coins worth of treasure (not worrying about how one would carry it), suits of +5 armor, vorpal artifacts, and dragon mounts, if only so that we could pit our players against Demogorgon, Asmodeus, and all the legions of hell. Was it fun? Yes, of course. Was it silly? Absolutely. Was it satisfying play? In the long run, NO...not for most of us (there are some people, of course, who continue to enjoy this kind of play), but I would argue that it was (and is) a necessary form of play for newcomers to the game.

And not just because we had to "get it out of our system!" Playing ridiculous games of that nature allow you (the players and the DMs) to try out all the various rules of the game. You get to experiment with things like magic resistance and gating demons; you get to see how the benign and malevolent effects of artifacts work. You get to try all those high level spells and powerful items, and see how a battle with the Tarrasque might go down. This kind of gaming forces you to read and learn the rules of the game...it helps you explore the possibilities of D&D while having a wa-hoo good time. Yes, it's absurd and ridiculous and we can all laugh at our Monty Haul-isms...but it still teaches players and DMs alike.

Though, as I said, for most of us it isn't satisfying long-term, and once we get tired of pummeling Odin, most of us settle down and start over with a 1st level campaign and try to run something a bit more serious and sincere. I know I did...and that was when the "real gaming" for me and my players began...the serious (if not particularly sophisticated) gaming.

Now here's the thing: playing D&D with a "serious mind" (regardless of one's particular sophistication) allows magic to happen at the gaming table. In my experience, it allows the game to take over and consume individuals. It's what causes players to have emotional attachments to their characters; it's what pushes DMs to exert their creativity to its utmost, fiendish limits. It's what drives gamers to incorporate all the minutia and side rules they can find (and create their own to boot); it's what changes a simple tabletop game into an obsessive pastime. It's what drives people to argue about stupid things (like whether or not a PC wearing a ring of free action that jumps in the ocean crashes to the bottom, taking full "falling damage"...as if the ocean's pressure wouldn't do the character in by itself). It can turn the casual participant into a lifelong lover of the hobby. It can create powerful, intimate experiences and deep friendships (as well as bitter rivalries).

In that type of environment - one played with a measured amount of "serious mindfulness" - characters of high level aren't silly at all. Getting to a high level in a serious game is a good thing, as it opens up serious, high level challenges and adventures for the players at the table.  Earning your high level in such a campaign is something to take pride in...especially if the DM is willing to "play hard" with the participants at the table.

My best character started as a 1st level half-elf ranger in my co-DM's first "serious" campaign. He advanced to become an 8th level ranger / 9th level thief-acrobat /15th level bard before we retired the campaign. My friend's magic-user went from 1st to approximately 14th-16th level. Another player had a cleric that was at least 16th level. This was all after a couple-three years of solid, serious play. Strongholds were built, outer planes were explored, vendettas fought, children sired. The characters from earlier "wild and woolly campaigns" were simply legends...heroes from a Golden Age of Myth that might never have been (save that it was).  And while my bard did (for a time) possess a pegasus mount (with a topaz embedded in its forehead...can't remember what that was all about), our campaign was treated with the utmost strictness and seriousness. Yes, we used speed factor and casting time, "weapon vs. AC" adjustments and disease/infection rules. About the only thing we ignored was the "training time factor" rules from the DMG, and that was probably because we were playing all the time (when we could) rather than recordable, weekly sessions. And those characters NEVER encountered anything so powerful as a Demon Prince or Duke of Hell (no Tarrasques, either).

My brother's best character (played in a campaign I ran during high school) was a human fighter that reached approximately 12th level, and was probably the only time he ever played the game "seriously." With the aid of his buddy's cleric (also 12th level) and a couple NPCs (a magic-user and a thief) he was able to take on the Steading of the Hill Giant Chief, perhaps even making it a bit further in the G-series (the memory escapes me). It helped immensely that he was armed with Blackrazor, which his character had recovered from White Plume Mountain. His fighter might have been as high as 15th level by the time he finished the giants.

I had a group of friends who ran their own AD&D campaign in the era of the "supermodule." They started with the Temple of Elemental Evil and moved on to the H (Bloodstone) series, eventually completing the entire thing (H4 is for levels 20-100...I believe their characters were in their mid-20s by the time they finished). I wasn't part of their game, but they put in some marathon sessions over the course of a couple years to slog through all that (and, to my knowledge, none of them have played D&D since, save for a one-off game here or there). I received many play reports their games over lunch in the cafeteria.

Anyway, back to the comments: I find nothing inherently "silly" about 18th level characters, not even those gifted to a player by an over-generous DM (as I did for my buddy Scott, circa 1984...hey, I'd just got my first PHB; we needed to try out those 9th level spells!). Finding ways to challenge such characters can be quite a task for the DM, especially if the characters were truly "earned" through exceptional, long-term play...the players of such characters are likely to be wily, experienced, and blessed with an inordinate amount of luck. But the D&D game, especially the Advanced version, provides many tools and ideas that can help build adventures of suitable challenge for such characters (should we choose to use them)...and it should go without saying that the DM who advanced the characters in the first place should have learned something from the experience herself (or himself). Saying the game works best at intermediate levels (5th to 9th) is, in my opinion, a highly inaccurate statement. For me, that's when the game first starts to really open up.

[of course, as the guy who wrote the B/X Companion for high level play, I might be slightly biased on this subject]

Back to Levels

It is so quiet here.

The house in which we reside in Paraguay is this cavernous, concrete, wood, and tile conglomeration in which sound echoes and carries. And my family (excepting the wife) is loud anyway. Here, even with beagles, you can sit in one part of our home and know next-to-nothing about what's going on in a different section. Right now, the loudest sound is the tapping of keys on my laptop. In fact, I might have to move so I don't wake the boy (who is sleeping in the bed in which I currently write).

Anyway...this is the first post I've written since being back in Seattle (just too much to see and do). It's a cold, Sunday morning with football starting in a couple hours and oh, how I miss days like this. By next Saturday I'll be back in Paraguay with the heat and bugs and...ugh, I just don't want to think about it. Too depressing. Best to enjoy the moment.

SO...levels.

When I started writing EID, my latest-greatest in fantasy heartbreakers, I was working within a different paradigm...specifically one that didn't use levels, as in "levels of experience." It had other ways to increase competence over time, through accomplishment (the basics? providing a replenishing resource pool that increased as characters met various milestones, said resource being available for a number of different purposes: buying off damage (extra HPs), increasing attack/save rolls (extra competence), gaining more "skills" (think "feats"), etc.).

However, after working with Holmes the last couple-three weeks. I find again that I really dig the ease of levels, even though there are problematic aspects to it. Problematic? Yeah...like the artificial progression of advancement, across a set spectrum/range. What if I'm a wizard who spends ten years to learn one high level spell, rather than the accumulation of a plethora of low-level spells? What if I'm a thief who focuses on a particular skill at the expense of others? What if I'm a fighter that specializes in a particular style and weapon? Etc., etc. Real world people seldom progress in such broad - and tidily packaged - style.

But, whatever...it's a game. I finished reading Alexis's The Dungeon's Front Door a few days ago (I'll write some sort of review in a bit), and if there's one thing he emphasized for me...has been emphasizing lately...it's the essential game nature of Dungeons & Dragons. Not that the game is "just a game;" D&D is much more than a game of Risk or Gin-Rummy. But it's not reality, either...whether purposefully designed as such or not, it delivers a particular experience to the players and the main product of that experience should be, must be fun. A strange type of "fun," perhaps, to people who've never played, but fun nonetheless.

Levels are fun. Treasure (not treasure units) is fun. Dungeons are fun.

We already know these things aren't "realistic;" realism isn't what we're striving for in a game of magic and monsters. Are they sensible? Probably not...but even ridiculous nonsense can be fun to people who dislike such things so long as it is contained within the proper context. And in the context of a game designed (even by accident) to deliver a particular experience, these things are appropriate (perhaps even essential) to increasing the fun factor. And if your design would otherwise diminish fun, Why O Why would anyone be interested in playing?

So...the 48 page FHB? Probably dying a stillborn death on my hard drive. Sorry, folks.

Note, when I say "probably," I mean with 99.9% certainty...however, there are aspects, snippets that might make it into something else. However, even so, one has to ask: WHY? Why, why, why would I want to write Yet Another class-based, level-based game based on D&D?

Talk about spinning your wheels! The EID project was, at least, different...a different paradigm, maybe even a more sensible paradigm. But if it's not as fun as D&D, if it doesn't offer the same fun potential as D&D, what's the point? Really. Practice? Well...

At the moment, I've got an idea for something that (even I think) is really dumb. I mean, truly stupid. And, no, it has nothing to do with megadungeons, if that's what you're wondering. But I'm a little in love with the idea. Let me see if I can make any headway with it (probably after I get back to Paraguay) before I discuss it more. But it really is pretty stupid, so don't get too excited.

All right, that's it for now. The boy just woke up so we're going to go play a game.
: )

One Million

Let's talk level limits. A common enough gripe of old school play style, generally with regard to demihumans...which is going to be the subject of this post.

[and, frankly, if you're going to gripe about assassins only going to level 15 or druids to level 14, I can't help you. Though, I suppose Gygax increased druids to 23 with the UA...because we need druids turning into fire elementals and stuff? Some stuff I just don't get...]

Holmes (my new "foundation" for all games D&D) has no level limits, of course. This is because the text of Holmes Basic only provides rules for characters up to 3rd level...and even the stingiest edition of Dungeons & Dragons (the Little Brown Books) allows the lowly hobbit to achieve 4th level. However, as I plan my Ten Year Campaign, I know that (as with multi-classing and which classes deminhumans can become) I'm going to need to make some hard decisions as to maximum levels. 

I might be in the minority with regard to level limits, but I like them. And it has nothing to do with game balance, or throwing human characters a bone, or modeling human ambition as their "advantage" over demihumans. No...to me, level limits make sense based on the limitations inherent in the demihumans.

Take the halfling (hobbit) as an example. Originally, their maximum potential of fighter was 4th level. That's "hero level," four times greater than a 1st level fighter, but pretty small potatoes compared to the ranks of high level humans. But look at their limitations: limitations of upbringing, of temperament, of training (in hobbit communities). Limitations with regard to armor that can be worn and weapons that can be wielded. If I have a small frame, poor reach, bad leverage (in hand-to-hand) and an inability to wield (and thus practice) most of the large weapons available, how am I ever going to reach the potential in training for battle as a human?

Look at elves. If we consider them these stereotypical, daisy-eating vegetarians with a deep respect for life...and thus lacking a killer instinct...coupled with a love of frivolous star-gazing, woodland frolicking, and wine-drinking (the Tolkien model), PLUS a slight frame, shorter reach, less leverage, and the capacity to bruise like a peach...well, you can understand how they might be limited as well.

And the same holds true for dwarves, okay? Don't tell me these are the roughest, toughest warriors in the realm, whose "favored class" is fighter. Fighting in tunnels, hatred of goblins, doesn't provide you with comprehensive fighting skills. You can't even ride a damn horse (not that you have stables underground anyway). Your fighting education is lacking, my beardy little friends. You can still be PROUD warriors, but that doesn't make you SKILLED warriors.

Here's my take: adventuring classes are human scale. Yes, I've decided that (at least for a couple demihumans) race will not equal class, and whether due to their interaction with humans, or adventurous nature, multiple classes will be open to non-humans. However, being "human scale," only humans are able to express the full potential of the class. Even if we're talking about a world setting analogous to Tolkien's Middle Earth (where you have a history of elves like Fingolfin and Glorfindel taking down balrogs single-handedly), this isn't about elves being "diminished in the current age." It's about humans expressing the full potential of the adventuring class (though the class may have been pioneered by this "elder race"). Those heroes of an ancient age may have been hot stuff, but humans in the current setting can be even better.

Yet even for humans, there's a limit to what can be learned...a finite amount of skill that can be acquired. For my Holmes setting, the hard limit is about 14 for the four main classes (fighter, magic-user, cleric, thief), with lesser levels for subclasses. For all classes (and subclasses), hit dice stop accumulating at level 9, and only bonus HPs are gained thereafter; skills and spell acquisition cease at 14, and while saves continue to improve, combat skills stop at level 13 for fighters. This is the limits of the class, mind you...you've learned all you can learn by the time you hit a certain level, and the only thing there is to gain is a little bump to HPs and (possibly) to saves. There's just a limit to what is possible for the adventurer.

But while characters can measure their power by their level, they measure their success...and what they've learned/earned...by experience points. And here, I've decided to simply install a hard cap on how much XP can be accumulated: one million points. Once you've hit that number, you can retire or continue on, but you aren't earning anything, no matter how many monsters you kill and no matter how much treasure you accumulate. One million is, for my purposes, the limit of what adventuring can gain you. 

Well, actually 1,100,000 for individuals with a 10% bonus for their prime requisite. But a million for everyone else...including demihumans, to whom I don't really want to give a prime requisite bonus (let that be the "human advantage").

Elves, as I wrote earlier, simply add the XP required for fighters and magic-users together to determine how much XP they need to accumulate to advance. With a million XP cap, that gives them a maximum potential of 10th level (at 810,000xp). Even earning a million doesn't get them to the next level.

Dwarves and halflings only have the options of the fighter and thief classes (and remember, there's no "multi-classing" round these parts). For dwarves, their normal maximum training is one-half the human potential (call it 7th level), but even after reaching it, they can continue to earn XP (up to a million)...however, each level requires double the normal XP to acquire (giving them an absolute maximum of 11th). For halfling fighters, their base potential is only one-third that of humans (4th level), and continued progression requires triple the normal XP (absolute max of 9th level). For thieves, this would be reversed (dwarves at one-third/triple and halflings at one-half/double). 

This method allows the demihumans to keep earning XP along with their human counterparts, just at a much slower rate of return and (one might presume) with a higher rate of "burnout" or urge to retire...there are some awful long stretches of "no gain" as the non-humans work and work and work to try to match their taller comrades. But...well, it's a bit like the real world: I would have never been an NFL linebacker, no matter how hard I tried, because I'm just not big enough. Nor would I have ever been a genius physicist...I wasn't gifted with that type of intellect. Demihumans have inherent limitations based on their individual species and culture. At least in my game world.

But there's still bragging rights for getting a million points.

; )

Doing Things Over

It's been a miserable last few days. The wife got back to town (a good thing) but she was sick when she left and worse when she got back. Both kids have been sick (fevers, sore throats, sniffles), which is tough to deal with when you add in the general heat, mosquitos, and throat-drying AC units. Then the baby's getting her canines in which is...well, let's just say she hasn't slept much and neither have I. Oh, yeah...and my boy was pushed off a two meter high platform by another kid at a birthday party (Friday). Fortunately he didn't land on an arm or leg (or head) but flat on his back, knocking his wind out and giving him some soreness, but no other injury. When I was D's age, I broke bones just rolling out of bed...he's a tough kid. But it was pretty scary, and my wife...well, she was a little beside herself by the whole thing. The kid who pushed D just gloated and laughed over my child's stunned form, and while his parents were apologetic later, they weren't even at the party. In the typical fashion of Paraguayan parenting, they'd simply dropped off their kid with his nanny, who was off eating somewhere at the time rather than watching the action.

[I was recently reading an (American) friend's blog decrying our tendency to micro-manage and "hover" too much about our children these days, but I've seen the opposite end of the spectrum down here, and the end result ain't pretty. Clearly some sort of happy medium is desirable]

I'm not sure how much longer we're going to be down here in Paraguay. There's some stuff going on with my wife's work (the reason we're here), and while they want us here and are willing to pay big bucks (well, by our standards) and seem intent on extending our time here, we're fairly anxious to get back. We're getting two weeks in Seattle in November (we'll be there for the Thanksgiving holiday), and we've been spending a lot of time lately talking about all the things we want to do (and eat!) when we're back in town. It's sad just how much there is to miss in Sea-town...and how little there is to miss here. Cost of living, I suppose. Really big chunks of grilled meat. Chipa (which, by the way, I didn't miss at all when I was home in June). Very tasty malbecs. That deliciously rich cordero dish over a bed of risotto that I order at my favorite restaurant every week.

In the final analysis, it's not enough to keep us here. Hell, nothing they have here (food-wise) measures up to Ivar's fish-n-chips with a pint of fresh pulled Pyramid hefeweizen (slice of lemon mandatory). And I don't even LIKE hefeweizen all that much.

The world's best fish n chips. Sorry, England.

No, we ain't staying. Seattle (and the U.S.) has its share of problems, but the "pros" definitely outweigh the "cons." NOW, one might ask if it was worth it for us to come down here at all? Was it good for us? Did it make our lives better to have this experience? If we had it to do over would we have done things differently?

Much as I miss the mountains, much as I would have liked to be in town for the parade after the Super Bowl win, much as I wish I wasn't going to have to look for a new job (ugh) when we get back...I think we made the right decision to come down here. I think it HAS been good for us, for our family. I think it has been very good for me personally...having to deal with all my personal frustration on so many fronts (most of which I have NOT blogged about), has made me a stronger, hopefully better (and nicer) person. I'm glad we came down here.

But I'm anxious to get home, anxious to get back into my house. Anxious to see the beagles again.

Similarly, I find myself considering the things I've done these last few years with my writing and publications. I find myself of the opinion that the B/X game (of which I've blogged so extensively), may in fact be a game that best balances if it ends at "X." That a game that goes behind 14 levels really isn't needed...not just because of the impracticality involved in advancing PCs into levels 20-something, but because the game itself can suffer when stretched to this scale. Certainly, I'm of the opinion that an 8th level halfling, 10th level elf, and 12th level dwarf are decent matches for any of the 14th level human classes in the B/X game...extending human levels out to 36 makes them far less relevant and the suggested "fixes" (allowing demihumans to advance beyond their maximums or using BECMI-style attack/save bonuses) are poor. While my B/X Companion did the job I intended it to do (providing a rulebook for high level play more in line with the original B/X system), there's a part of me that feels (now) like the thing was unnecessary to satisfying B/X play.

Likewise, there are things I'd have changed in The Complete B/X Adventurer, complexities in some of the new classes that I wish I'd streamlined or reconsidered. It's a neat book, with lots of neat ideas, but much of it feels a bit like a vanity project (despite the work I put into it) adding little value.

However, as with this trip to Paraguay, I'm glad that I did these books. Looking back on them after a few years, there's a lot that leaves me unsatisfied (now), but they were good experiences, growing experiences for me. If I hadn't published them, well, I'm not sure I would have ever published anything. Doing the first book showed me what was possible. Doing the second book showed me it wasn't just a "one time" thing.

The current project...let's just call it "Darkness," for the moment...might look like a small one. And at the physical level it is supposed to be a small one; I'm kind of tired of these games looking more like text books for a college course than like instructions for a game. The challenge is communicating everything I need to within the limited space available, giving the player ENOUGH information to make the game work, and work at a high level. And I'm doing it by breaking a bunch of standard D&D paradigms.

Levels, for example. There aren't any. In fact, in the current (25 page) document, I haven't had the need to use the word "level" even once.

[and no, it doesn't have some percentage based skill system like BRP, either. I told you it's a different paradigm]

The concepts found in the book include things that I've been futzing around with in a variety of (unpublished) projects. I'm just trying to pull it all together to make something that's both interesting and sound, with enough detail to catapult one's imagination, and enough system to see you through. As I said before, given the maximum page count, it's going to be tight trying to meet these goals. The game itself is going to need to be tight.

God, it's going to need some serious play-testing.

In other news, both gaming and Paraguayan, Alexis over at the Tao of D&D has been doing some fantastic maps of Paraguay, as a favor (or rather "a present") for Yours Truly. I can't express how flattered I am by this attention. Remember, this is the same guy who kicked me out of his on-line campaign for being an asshole. And, me, a guy who hasn't even gotten around to buying his latest book. Now that I've shit-canned my South American-based FHB in favor of the "Darkness" project, a guy does me a solid with this beautiful hexagonal rendering? Man, I am a jerk.

So, obviously, I will have to return to the SA-project in a different format...probably as a campaign setting supplement for B/X. Because I just can't let good material go to waste. Waste not, want not, right?

[of course, tell that to my other campaign settings sitting on the shelf: Land of Ash, Land of Ice, Goblin Wars, etc.]

Still, it's Alexis, so I'll try to make more than a half-assed effort.

Oh-oh! The baby's awake again! Got to go comfort! Later, gators!

Delving 4E (Part 3)

My plan is to post my thoughts on the classes and powers in the 4E PHB (I've got a copy of the PHB2 as well but...well, we'll see if I get to it), specifically what I like. As I wrote in my last post, this isn't about lauding 4E as its own game, nor about bashing it for "how it ain't D&D." This is more about what I find interesting, neat, or intriguing as a design choice and possible addition to an actual (D&D) RPG.

Oh, yeah...since this is an attempt to stay positive, I will stay away from the subject of how 4E handles the races in D&D, except to say that I dislike them immensely. Sorry. My distaste is such it might even stop me from playing in a 4E game, knowing I'd probably be adventuring alongside "dragonborn" and "tieflings."

But here's what I like:

With a couple exceptions, I like all classes and "builds" presented in the PHB, at least conceptually, if not their actual execution; this includes the two new classes, warlocks and warlords (more on these in a moment). The ones I don't like (for the curious) are the ranger and paladin, especially the former. In fact, may I just say for the record that I haven't seen a ranger class that I've liked as a whole since (probably) 1st Edition. And let me further add that when I played a ranger character in 1st edition he did wield two weapons (using the rule in the 1E DMG) and you'd think I'd be ecstatic over the class's morphing into a dual-fisted expert over the years. No. Zero (as my four year old would say).

For those who don't know, "builds" are diverging specializations classes are required to take (do you want to be a "battle cleric" or a "devoted cleric," for example). I was actually working with a similar concept in one of my recent (now scratched) heartbreaker designs, so I'm somewhat partial to the idea. However, my motives were different: I provided specializations to help distinguish otherwise simple (B/Xish) classes from their like adventurers and give them a little extra "zing"...like the fighter who specialized in archery (and thus got an extra bonus with a bow). Builds in 4E seem bent on limiting choices. Well, that's a little harsh...most powers of a class are open to any member of the class, regardless of build. But builds do appear to provide some direction when it comes to choosing one's powers, as well as a clear road to "optimization"...which I hate.

[4E's design choice in this regard seems a direct descendent of World of Warcraft's talent trees, though again it's not nearly as restrictive (which is a good thing)]

However, it doesn't HAVE to be this way. There's a lot of shit 4E gets wrong, as far as role-playing games go, and the main one is its emphasis on combat encounters. Such an emphasis encourages optimization, as good play should (in theory) lead to shorter fights allowing the party to proceed to the next encounter faster in order to fight and continue having "fun." But that's just 4E's game. If you can get past the idea that D&D is just about combat (and structure your power options to be more than just combat options), then builds become a bit less static as characters are concerned with more than just fighting. Maybe.

Anyway, leaving aside (for the moment) the actual powers presented and the gameplay of 4th edition, I find (as said) that I like the majority of these classes and builds as concepts. Let me just run through them quickly:

• The fighter's builds (two-handed weapon or sword-and-board) are simplistic but, hey, he's a fighter. On second pass, a large part of my objection to the ranger is that its builds...the archer and the dual-wielder...are not just BORING, but they should also, IMO, fall under the purview of the fighter, being combat styles. Can't the ranger have, like, a "woodsy/druid" build and a "scouty/guerilla" build?
• For me, the cleric's "battle cleric" versus "devotional/saintlike" build represents a perfect duality, as does the rogue's "brawny" versus "trickster." In fact, the brawny rogue is an excellent example of the Conan as thief archetype found in S&S literature (see also Fafhrd). It is really unfortunate that, even for the "brawny" build, all the rogue attack powers require the use of a "light blade" (dagger, rapier, or short sword) in melee. Poor execution and a missed opportunity (let's make all our thugs fight with the same three weapons)...but I'm digressing.
• The wizard's builds ("war" or "control") are no great shakes, but the concept and direction of the wizard as a whole is pretty cool/interesting...though it needs to sit next to the warlock to really appreciate it.

The warlock is one of the two new classes presented in the 4E PHB, and while initially turned off by the presentation (probably the tiefling illustration) upon reading the entry I was far more impressed. This is the classic sorcerer of fantasy literature (which, BTW, is nothing like 3rd Edition's "sorcerer" class). I suppose they needed a new name because they (WotC) intended to bring back the weak-sauce version in the PHB2 (which they did). A shame. Anyway, the warlock is great and, in addition to its two builds ("deceptive" and "scourge") we get a choice of three pacts (sorcerous bargains with supernatural powers) to color the character: fey, infernal, and star (fairy, hell, and Cthulhu!).

[gosh, I can't believe this was published in 2008 and I never saw it. In retrospect, my books with similar concepts...like the Summoner in TCBXA...look like complete knock-offs. Hell, that Conan post was from 2009, even...]

Positioned in opposition to the sorcerous warlock, the wizard begins to take on the look of the classic enchanters of legend: Merlin, Vainamoinen...heck, even Gandalf (who's basis is in those old fairy tales). The sorcerer curses and hexes and summons, while the enchanter manipulates the environment with magical effect. Very nice bookends of the arcane spectrum...much cooler than simply "this guy reads books and this dude has 'dragon blood' in his veins."

The warlord, despite its stupid illustration (a dwarf? that's the last guy you want to be a warlord, ESPECIALLY if you're trying to optimize! Jeez) was not one I had to steel myself to read. In fact, it was the first class I read, and definitely my favorite concept in the entire book. This is the class I'd be playing if I sat down at a 4E table. But then, I've always played my characters like warlords (whether they be clerics, fighters, or bards): jumping into battle, barking orders, thinking tactically. I told you people I like war-games...there's more than a bit of the "armchair general" in me. This class alone could get me to play at least a few sessions of 4E.

[though never as a dragonborn; human only, please, and "inspiring," not "tactical" build]

A warlord surveys the battlefield.

It's a shame that the warlord's concept is so much a part of the 4E premise...I'm not sure it would work in an old style D&D game where actual maneuver in combat is profoundly de-emphasized. Might as well just use a fighter (or a heavy-hitter cleric if you want to still use the inspirational "buffs" on your party). You don't really need a "combat brain" when all people are doing is rolling a D20 to hit when it's their turn in initiative.

But that's the problem...D&D (at least in the traditional, pre-4E sense) has so many other elements, aspects, and scenarios that don't involve combat. And the power selection for the 4E classes are almost entirely combat related. Of the 17 powers gained during the course of a 30 level career, only 7 are "utility" powers; the rest are straight up attacks. And the majority of "utility" powers are still designed to be used in combat (conferring bonuses, healing party members, etc.), they're just not direct attacks. Even liking these class/build concepts, they'd need a lot of modification to make them less combat-focused.

Which should be a good time to discuss tiers. If I'm remembering correctly (this is many years ago) I already swiped the idea of tiers from 4E back when the book first came out...er, wait, now that I'm thinking about it, maybe not. Um, let me back up...the last version of D20 Star Wars (Saga) was in some ways a precursor to 4E. It was also a direct inspiration (and impetus) for me starting up a B/X version of Star Wars lo those many years ago. One of the things I came up with was the use of "tiers" as an added measure of character power/effectiveness...but I cannot for the life of me remember if I was influenced by the 4E books (something I browsed? something someone told me?) or if it was just a logical step based on my reinterpreting of Saga. Regardless, my tiers work quite differently from 4E (I use them to help compact the range of "levels," getting more bang for one's buck).

However, my point is that I LIKE the idea of "tiers." Now, do I like their implementation in 4E? Mmmm, maybe. They're a little hit-and-miss for me. The wizard and warlock paragon classes are perhaps the most interesting, having strong color/fluff associated with their choices. Many of the others...like the rogue's...simply reinforce class stereotypes, rather than offer truly interesting choices. Many of them (especially those in the PHB2) simply seem to be re-hashings of the 3rd Edition prestige classes, just shave to fit the round hole of 4E. Which is good for some of them (there were a lot of otherwise weird and "semi-useless" prestige class floated out in the days of D20 splat books, and here they become more pertinent), but I'm just not sure I'm totally down with the idea.

Actually, the concept of high level characters becoming paragons, gaining an exponential boost in power over low level heroes, and being required to further specialize IS a concept I can buy into. Again, it's mainly the execution that leaves me a little cold.

Similarly with the epic destinies tier. Here the constraints of the 4E system really start to show themselves...what, no conquerer/king destiny for the warrior class? No founding a religion for clerics? Fourth edition really is about kicking ass from encounter to encounter, not about role-playing or world immersion or whatnot, and the destinies appear designed to fulfill that goal up to 30th level. It's singular destination (immortality) is very reminiscent of the old BECMI quest for immortality, but with fewer (and less interesting) paths, and no real options besides such a quest.

Then again, maybe that's only logical (from an in-game point of view)...anyone who spent so much time getting to the top has got nowhere else to go but ascension, if they're still driven by ambition. At least 4E provides an endgame scenario of sorts. I can't remember if 3E's Epic Level Handbook provided such an outlet for characters...I think they just continued on ad infinitum. It's not bad, it's a nice option. I'd just like more options here.

Mmmm...this is getting long (again). I told you folks I had a lot of thoughts about 4E. And I still haven't written about the non-Vancian take on magic, spell rituals, and the combat system in general. That's all going to have to come in a follow-up post, I'm afraid.

Later.

Dichotomy

A couple days back, Anthony was commenting on my Cacodemon post when his brain went into a minor meltdown (I don’t fault him for this, BTW, as this kind of thing tends to happen to me all the time when I start musing and muttering). He wrote:

“On a related note, with regard to age of character, character level, whatever…I feel like I’m tired of levels! And perhaps anything related to character advancement! How about a game where the character you make is the character you make, for the entire time you are playing in said campaign. I mean, if campaigns have a tendency to crash and burn (with those decades-long campaigns being the exception to the rule, and trust me I doubt the veracity of those claims of long-running campaigns), then why not create a character that just advances in abilities, rather than have the seemingly superfluous add-on of an XP system. “I’m not quite sure what I even mean by all of that…maybe it’s related to my growing disdain for roleplaying games as being counting exercises. I’m tired of counting XP!”

 Anthony then goes on to write that he’s still interested in some sort of character development (actually, “development” is my word), that may not be necessarily in the traditional, linear, level-up fashion of D&D.

I understand his frustration. I do, really. It was about…oh…nine or ten years ago that I started writing a fantasy RPG that had an XP system that just went from 1 to 9, with each number representing a different, life-changing experience a character might have. For example, going to war for the first time or being crowned king. There were more than nine possible experiences, but a character was limited to nine…and each experience provided its own individual bonus or change or advantage to the character.

In fact, the milestone mechanic in Five Ancient Kingdoms is the direct descendant of this idea, though it was developed into its current incarnation through my (as yet unpublished) B/X Star Wars game, combining my original idea with the destiny mechanics (I think that’s what they’re called) found in the Star Wars Saga (D20) Edition. You can also see something similar in the old school game Villains & Vigilantes, where every “level up” gives you some mechanical advantage (chosen from a substantial list), in addition to bonus HPs and such. I incorporated something similar to V&V in my Land of Ice campaign setting for B/X.

In developing the milestone concept, both for B/X SW and 5AK, it was suggested to me that I return to my original idea of giving each different ‘stone some sort of related “power up.” There are a couple-few reasons why I rejected the idea:

1. No matter how hard you try to make the game otherwise, some people are going to see certain associated power-ups as “better” than others. If a character gets a +1 to initiative and attack rolls because they’ve been “blooded in combat” that’s going to be more desirable (in a D&D-style game) than certain other advantages…unless you do the dumb-dumb thing of making ALL the various associated bonuses as being “combat-related” (see Saga Star Wars for that kind of stupidity in game design).
2. Milestones were developed as a bonus for taking “extra action” outside of the normal loot/slay paradigm (rewarding players who engage the world, i.e. “going above and beyond”) but it wasn’t meant to distract from other adventure-related goals (i.e. finding treasure). At least not in Five Ancient Kingdoms since most Arabic folktales tend to fall into the category of “adventurer looking to get rich.” In B/X Star Wars, it’s a different story (and a topic for a different blog post).
3. I still like the idea of variable XP totals between player characters as a gauge of “how well” players are doing in the game. I don’t like the idea of everyone “leveling up at the same rate.” Call me a curmudgeon if you like but I’m NOT of the generation where everyone on the little league team gets an award at the end of the year. I like to have comparison and variation and tracking individual “points” does that.

[hmm…this might be a good time to note that I am NOT a fan of the Chaosium/BRP system of development for precisely this reason. I don’t like it anyway because I find it to be too slow, too random, and too dumb (only going up), but placing the emphasis on skill use as the only means of “advancement” makes the whole game about finding ways to use those skills (to meet the reward requirements of the system) rather than exploration of the setting, which would otherwise seem to be the desired objective of the Chaosium game designers]

There’re some other pitfalls, too (which is part of why that experiment nine or ten years ago didn’t fly) but I don’t want to get into ‘em right now.

But as I said, I understand Anthony’s venting. It IS a pain in the ass to track and record XP, and the whole idea of linking not just effectiveness but game content to advancement is kind of shitty. I have a mage that wants to explore the astral plane…sorry, you don’t get access to a suitable spell for 12+ levels (and it takes weeks of play just to go up one level). Maybe your DM will let you find a cubic gate or magic portal in the course of adventuring, but otherwise you’ve got to commit to a few years of constant gameplay to open that content…assuming the group and DM are willing to stick together that long.

And, of course, this doesn’t just apply to magic-users. “My character’s a hero! When do I get to fight a dragon?” When you’re damn good and ready in about eight or ten levels…unless I’m a sadist of a DM. And this is, of course, assuming you find adequate equipment along the way. “But isn’t this Dungeons & Dragons we’re playing?”

It sure is. Which means you get none of that “big kid stuff” for a long, long time.

What folks should understand (and what I’ve tried to explain before) is that there are a lot of parts to the game that were not conceptualized by the designers when they first created the game, they were simply added and added and added IN PLAY to make the game “fun.” And a lot of the things that were added were not very well thought out and have caused all sorts of problems for all sorts of reasons over time.

The XP/level advancement system was NOT present from the get go. Arneson wanted a game of underground exploration and fantasy adventure; THAT was his objective. Napoleonic wargame maneuvers underground against the orcs of Sauron or whatever. It was only after a while of playing that players asked “shouldn’t we be getting better [i.e. more effective] at this exploration thing as we survive?” The objective of finding treasure/gold was ALREADY in place…it was a very small leap of concept to adapt that to leveling up.

And it makes sense…but it makes MORE sense when you consider the original scale. “Gygaxian ecology” wasn’t necessarily in effect from the get go. Who knows what giant piles of treasure were pulled out prior to concepts of scaling and “realistic” or “balanced” treasures? The scale of character advancement was different, too…from a "three level" system based on CHAINMAIL (no-name, Hero, and Superhero) to the level seven to twelve range found in OD&D (which quickly scaled up due to infinity potential, Monty Haul campaigns, and the potential of Odin as an antagonist).

2^nd Edition AD&D tried to reinvent the game with a revised XP system, but that was pretty much trying to shut the lid on Pandora’s Box…the game needed a rework from the ground up if you wanted to restructure folks’ assumptions. 3^rd Edition DID restructure the game assumptions drastically, by making the game entirely about combat (sure, sure…”overcoming challenges,” but those are mostly fighting monsters especially as PCs advance in level) with rewards (feats, spells, etc.) being related to the same (i.e. combat). 4^th Edition was a natural “next step” from what had been introduced in 3^rd Edition, even though people hated it.

But I’ve blogged about all this before. You can check out my various posts on advancement and development and Arneson’s Blackmoore, etc. scattered throughout this blog. The question isn’t really what D&D is or isn’t or what we’d like it to be. The question is this: given that you don’t like it, what are you going to do about it?

The question is not intended to be rhetorical and is directed at myself as much as any of my readers. Fact is, folks like advancement (not just development) of character. Arneson’s players asking him, “shouldn’t we be getting better at this?” is pretty solid evidence. I think it’s also safe to say that practical experience in one’s craft (in this case “adventuring”) is worth something…most would assume that the wet-behind-the-ears rookie isn’t as effective as the ten year veteran. But do you want the game to model the progress from rookie to veteran? I only ask because, you know, that’s what it does.

And some would say: “That’s the game.” D&D is about young Turks going into an underground world and looking for treasure, eventually becoming hardened vets. Fantasy Vietnam, right?  This doesn’t contrast too much with traditional folklore and hero tales, most of which combine “coming of age” themes with their tales of valor. The difference is in the effectiveness of the heroes in classic legends. Theseus may be on his first adventure, but he still manages to beat the Minotaur single-handedly (and bereft of armor or magical accoutrements). How many 1^st level fighters can claim that?

[yes, I suppose one could say Theseus (in D&D terms) got incredibly lucky with his dice rolls, and it is because of this exceptional encounter that he is remembered as a legendary figure. But his is but one example of many, and don’t you want your characters to have the same “literary probability” of heroic achievement? Or do you want your game to be a crapshoot lottery when it comes to seeing if player characters’ names will be remembered?]

Again, we know what D&D is…maybe it's not the game we want to play. At least, not every day of the week.

Do you like variation and disparity in power levels between player characters? Do you think that “good play” (a whole ‘nother line of design theory) should be rewarded with increased in-game effectiveness? Do you want players to have to “pay their dues” before they can access “the good stuff?”

Think about your own fortitude for this last one: does making folks wait for content make the pay-off all the sweeter? Or does it simply frustrate the hell out of ‘em to the point where they want to play something else? Keep in mind that the DM has to wait, too…no excursions into the deepest bowels of hell when the PCs at your table are all under 4^th level!

Personally, I’m not much for delayed gratification. That paradigm of doling out points and content over time may be a frigging godsend to the video game industry – who can turn players’ desire to achieve into a steady supply of subscription cash – but that’s the very thing that turns me OFF of such games. I don’t want to have to play and play and play just to reach a point where my character can ride an f’ing horse! Again, I understand that “that’s the game;” it’s just not the game for me.

SO…given all these thoughts, what do I want to do with my redesigned fantasy game? Do I want characters to begin their adventuring career as Harry Potter or as Elric of Melnibone? I’ve already said I don’t like systems like FATE or FUDGE because they’re not “nailed down” enough for my taste, and I certainly don’t want a point-based system like GURPS or a skill based system like BRP (chargen takes too damn long). I like the specificity and simplicity inherent in a random ability, class/level system…it may just be a matter of scaling the game properly.

I’ve talked about level compression before; I’ve also talked about cutting the “XP needed” by a factor of five or ten. It’s possible to write a game so that a “1^st level” character has the same effectiveness as, say, a 4^th level character (by adjusting HPs, saves, attack rolls, etc.) and making each step of advancement be the equivalent of going up two or three levels. That’s an easy enough fix.

But it still requires a system for awarding those levels, and that would generally be based on some type of “merited action,” whether we’re talking XP or the clearing of a dungeon level.

What if your character went up one level every time he or she found a stairway down? That might resolve some of the problems with the standard system (counting points, opening content, etc.) though it wouldn’t allow for much variation/discrepancy between characters. It would create an objective of exploration certainly; but it would also undermine the traditional premise of “treasure finding,” Maybe you want that, maybe you don’t.

All right, that’s enough for me to chew on for awhile…hopefully, these musings were useful to Anthony.

; )