Consistency

This article, Under the Hood of the DMG, has a paragraph in one section that stirred up some strong responses, and in my opinion, is one of the markers that demonstrates part of the schism with Old School style play. Here is the passage:

The shift in philosophy reflected in this table is most evident in the section on terrain in Chapter 4 (pages 67-68). In past editions, we'd describe things like cave slime as if the DC of the Acrobatics check to avoid slipping in it were an objective, scientific measurement of its physical properties. "How slippery is cave slime? It's DC 30 slippery." But setting a fixed number like that limits its usefulness -- cave slime would be too challenging for low-level characters and irrelevant for high-level characters. In 4th Edition, we tell you to set the DC to avoid slipping based on the level of the characters, using the Difficulty Class and Damage by Level table. So when 5th-level characters encounter cave slime, they'll be making a check against DC 22, but 25th-level characters have to make a DC 33 check.

Does that mean that high-level characters encounter Epic Cave Slime that's objectively slipperier than the Heroic Cave Slime they encountered in their early careers? Maybe. It doesn't matter. What matters is that the DM has permission to use terrain that's relevant to the characters, regardless of their level -- and has a table supported by solid math to make sure it's relevant.

(A quick comment about the math: it may sound unfair, but with the independant mathematical demonstration that the Skill Challenge system is almost precisely the opposite of what was intended cropping up no more than a week after the books hit the shelves, I take the notion that other mechanics dealing with skills and such have "a table supported by solid math to make sure it's relevant" with a hefty bit of salt. Not that skill use is utterly discredited, but certainly, claims to the validity of the math have to be compared to that.)

The idea is that consistency should take a back seat, or not be in the car at all, really. I am also baffled by the bit where this is intended to give the DM permission, essentially, to challenge the players. If there was an additional explanation that the DM should challenge the players rather than thwart them, that would be different. But the underlying assumption is that the DM would simply sit passively while the players told their own story without intervention.

At any rate, the real implication was that the particular cave slime didn't have a DC for crossing it until the characters encountered it, then it was a DC that was appropriately challenging. In the barest terms, that means it would be DC15 or so at 5th level, but DC 40 at 25th level (just to throw some numbers out there). This is entirely contrary to how a consistent world works. In fact, as evidenced by the statement "...as if the DC of the Acrobatics check to avoid slipping in it were an objective, scientific measurement of its physical properties" shows a rather shocking lack of understanding. Of course you can measure the physical properties of the friction. It's called 'co-efficient of friction'. Naturally, an RPG doesn't require nearly this level of math to simulate walking on slime. But setting a DC for a Dexterity or Acrobatics check approximates it nicely. You don't even really need to get extensive research on microbiological algae papers and cross reference them with a materials science text. Calling it 'DC20' is more than sufficient to demonstrate that it is pretty slippery, and low level characters will have a problem crossing it intact. But, that is exactly as it should be. Likely, low level characters won't even be looking for slippery rocks that an experienced spelunker would see coming three passages away. As the caver gets more experienced in dealing with subterranean hazards (buys ranks in Knowledge:Dungeoneering) or the character gets a better feel for their surroundings and how to interact with them (buys ranks in Balance), then of course they will become better at navigating treacherous passages. Being able to surpass previous challenges, and eventually being able to surpass them easily is the very definition of improvement. Setting all and sundry challenges equivalent to the character's levels undermines the very idea of improvement.

In other words, James Wyatt is suggesting a sliding scale dependent on when the characters encounter a patch of cave slime. By implying that the same cave slime would have a different DC if the characters were to go back at a later level, the cave slime is removed as a part of the physical world the in which the characters adventure; it's a challenge based on the needs of the story at the moment. Now, some may wonder why players would want to go back to an area they have already 'cleared'. One reason is that some new threat has taken up residence. The same area and its secrets that were protected by cave slime earlier is probably still an excellent location for the secret plans, the lich's phylactery, a portal to another dimension, or whatever else. It really wouldn't make sense for the cave slime itself to have leveled up with the characters. But this is exactly what is being suggested. If that area still needs to be challenging to enter, then the previous DC20 cave slime should be DC40, so the higher level characters will be challenged.

Some prefer this, others don't. There is a kernel of good adventure design in there, but taken to the logical extreme implied by the article, you end up with a more or less generic ~50% of success at any level for any 'challenge'. Similarly, it makes the description rather pointless. It can be DC 40 cave slime, troll droppings, loose rock or tangle vines. Additionally, it makes consistency harder to establish. Certainly, there can be varying degrees of cave slime frictionlessness, but for the most part, keeping that to a certain number then adding other penalties makes for a consistent experience for the players. Cave slime covered in troll droppings, for example, should be harder to cross that either of them alone. If you simply put a 'difficult terrain DC40' in some area, the players won't know if it is easy to cross after gaining 10 levels, like DC15 cave slime, or if it was impossible to cross earlier, but may be reasonable to try now, like DC25 troll droppings.

Rather than

P1: "Should we try to cross it? It was a pain in the ass when we were in the Caves of Desolation"
P2: "Yeah, that was a long time/ten levels ago. We can make it, easy-peasy."
DM: "You notice there are also extensive troll droppings on the rocks, making them appear more treacherous."
P2: "Yikes! This might be trickier than I thought, troll droppings will up the DC by quite a bit"

You get:

P1: "Should we try to cross it? It was a pain in the ass when we were in the Caves of Desolation"
P2: "I dunno, what's the DC?"
or
P2: "Yeah, we got about a 50% chance, same as the Caves of Desolation 10 levels ago"

In the first case, a consistent DC doesn't prevent meta-game discussion or planning, and in fact, isn't really intended to. But it can keep it more to the background, as the players would probably know the DC of cave slime at least, if not troll droppings. They wouldn't need to check with the DM for a DC necessarily, and should be able to estimate the odds of making it across safely and base decisions on that.

In the second case, the only way to really navigate the hazard is by meta-game planning. It can be masked, of course, but in the end, they players have a good idea that the DM will be setting level appropriate challeges before them. So, no matter what kind of hazard they face, they will have somewhere in the 45-55% range to overcome it, no matter what level they are. "Always fighting orcs" as someone put it.

To a degree, the first case goes to the heart of Old School gaming. There is a great big world out there, waiting for the character's to interact with it. But it is a great big world, full of people with their own agendas, plans and desires. Some of them have been gone for years or even centuries, but their devious traps and carefully laid plans are still in motion. If the characters are low level, they will be tangling with things they are incapable of overcoming, to their detriment. An example: the 20th level necromancer may have been defeated 200 years ago, destroying the adventurers sent for that purpose. But not before ensorcelling the Book of Doom that will raise wave upon wave of undead to sweep the known world clean of any living beings, using the most cunning traps, calling upon the mightiest of dweomers, insuring that any but the strongest mage will be utterly rendered if they try to wrest the book from its unholy crypt. Not something you would contemplate at 5th level unless the situation is dire, indeed. Insuring this adventure is appropriate to the characters is a matter of campaign design, not sliding the DCs on the traps and such around for a party of 7th-10th level. Consistency is severely damaged, and the idea of adventuring in a 'real' world is similarly compromised.

Sliding DCs have the veneer of making the narrative more important, but even that is undercut by having roughly the same chance of suceeding at any level. An ever increasing list of adjectives may sound good the first couple of times, but it does nothing to emphasize character improvement when the odds don't change. If you have even odds to kick down a simple wooden door at 1st level, and even odds to kick down the adamantium bound soulsteel magical demon-gate at 30th level, what has really been accomplished, aside from increasing the numbers?

So it begins...

A bit of a review, then on to newer thoughts.

From eight years ago, the first of a series that never was completed on Gaming Outpost. I give you "The Die is Cast":



Part I: Welcome to the Beginning!

Posted on 04 September 2000


I am hoping to use this series of articles to help deconstruct our beloved hobby, so we can all come to a better understanding of what it is that takes up so much of our time. I'm not going to do any in-depth analyses of individual gaming systems. There are too many game systems to really have a meaningful discussion, and it is beyond the scope of this article to attempt. We all have our favourites, and we all have our reasons that they are so loved. Inclusion or exclusion of a particular system is not an indication of the relative merits of said system. There are so many pros and cons to any game, and many of them are simply matters of personal taste. I'm not here to change anyone's mind, but rather to look into some of the 'mystique' that is role-playing. This is a far more concrete subject than which system has a better implementation of a given mechanic, which is another reason to avoid that topic. Of course, the best place to start is with the basics.


The most basic aspect of any role-playing game is the persona that we take on to play it, in the form of a character. The most basic aspect of a character is the attributes that comprise that character. They usually take one of three forms: Physical, Mental, or Metaphysical. The Physical attributes are the most obvious, concerned with the actual physiological makeup of the character. These attributes are usually those such as Strength, Dexterity, Appearance, and so on. The Mental attributes are the ones that govern how the character thinks, how smart they are, how resistant their minds are to supernatural occurrences, and so on. Usually, these kinds of attributes take on the form of Intelligence, Wits, or Mental Acuity. The Metaphysical attributes are typically the catchall category, for attributes that don't necessarily fit well in the other two. Usually, this is expressed as Luck, but some others that might be included would be certain Social attributes, Aura, or possibly an attribute like Sense, which would be a combination of the Physical (the actual sensing organs) and the Mental (how well the mind interprets these signals).


Therefore, a character in a role-playing game can be said to comprise the Physical, Mental, and Metaphysical attributes that are generated through the process of character creation or character generation (although the Metaphysical group is not as often used as the first two groups). I will begin with the Physical attributes, since these are the easiest to grasp.


The most basic and oft-used Physical attribute is Strength. From a very early age, we all tested our strength against whoever would stand still long enough for us to talk to. Whether it was wrestling, or lifting things, or push-ups, it was a very basic way for people to begin comparing themselves with others. Typically, the Strength attribute is just a simple measure of raw lifting capability, or muscle mass. While Agility is more often used to determine bonuses or penalties to the ability to strike, the Strength attribute is most often the largest determinant for combat bonuses or penalties in regards to melee combat. The differences between these two mechanics, how those differences are implemented, and how that impacts the game system will be the focus of a future installment. There are virtually no games that use a Strength attribute that don't also use it to modify the amount of damage a successful hit causes. From what little I remember about TWERPS from a decade or so ago, Strength was in fact the only attribute used! For just about all other games, however, more attributes are needed to help define a character. These other attributes will be the focus of future articles, and how they relate to Strength will also be discussed.


Just about every game has an archetype or template that relies on Strength to perform their duties. (Archetype or template are terms some games use to refer to a pre-generated type of role a character may portray, such as Pilot, or Archeologist. It is a rough outline of the minimum skills a given profession would possess, within the structure of the game, without locking the character into an arbitrary set of skills or abilities.) Most games term this type of character a Warrior or Fighter. Even in games that don't have a particular role defined in this way, there is a template for the character that shoulders the burden for most of the toe-to-toe conflict resolution. In Vampire: The Masquerade, this role is usually served by the shape changing Gangrel, whose primary attributes are in the Physical category. In modern or futuristic games, this type of character is usually a soldier or mercenary. In the HERO system, there is a 'type' of character that emphasizes the physical characteristics and strength especially. This 'type' of character is called a 'Brick,' and usually has the single greatest point expenditure in Strength. Where all other attributes are variable in their inclusion, Strength is the one constant to character generation.


This leads us to the uses of Strength. As already mentioned, the most basic use is as a measure of raw physical power. It can also be used to determine a measure of Stamina, when this isn't otherwise included, as stronger people tend to be able to perform physical labour for longer periods of time, theoretically. Often times, it is also used to define the body type of a character, although in a strict sense, this may be a bit inaccurate. Many US soldiers were amazed at the feats of strength displayed by physically smaller hill-dwelling Asian and Pacific Islander peoples many years ago, during the various conflicts there. Often, one man, no more than five feet tall, and about 130 pounds in weight, could be seen carrying objects many times heavier than themselves up the sides of steep hills, usually strapped to their backs. These were objects as large as an icebox, which was about half the size of a modern refrigerator, but made entirely of heavy gauge steel. Strength can be considered to be a measure of how well muscles work together in this instance. Therefore, a high score in Strength doesn't always correlate to the massive frame of a stereotypical barbarian. In the Silhouette system by Dream Pod Nine, Strength is actually a devised attribute, found by adding Build and Fitness together and dividing to get the result. The frame or body type of the person is measured by the Build attribute.
Many early fantasy games, such as AD&D, limited the maximum value of a Strength attribute in female characters. Often this was based on the assumption that females have greater strength in their lower bodies, while males have greater strength in their upper bodies. Evolution of thought seems to have put this notion to rest, as there are few games on the market today that arbitrarily limit the maximum Strength allowed based on gender. Fortunately, this bias didn't seem to show up in the assignment of other attributes, such as Mental or Metaphysical ones. Had that been the case, the number of female gamers today would undoubtedly be a good deal less than it is.


Physical attributes are nearly always in opposition to Mental attributes. In games where values are assigned to attributes, rather than randomly generated, often more points are awarded to one than the other, as in most White Wolf games, where you get 7 points for the Physical attributes, 5 for the Mental, and 3 for the Social (or, in our parlance, Metaphysical) attributes. In other systems, such as Cyberpunk 2020, allocating points to Strength simply leaves fewer points to allocate to the rest of the attributes, as a means of self-regulation in this regard. In games where attributes are randomly generated, such as AD&D, Palladium games, or Call of Cthulhu, it is possible to have a character who is physically powerful, and mentally adept as well. This is more of an exception, however, as most games today use a point allocation system for attributes.


What about the range of values for Strength? Some games use a percentile value method, and some use a different range, such as 1-10, or 3-18. These seem like good values at first blush, but if we look into things a bit more, we can see how some problems can surface. The strongest person on record lifted something in the neighborhood of 465lbs over their head. In AD&D, the highest Strength score possible allows one to lift around 480 pounds in a similar manner. The individual who lifted the 465lbs may not be entirely unique. However, the number of individuals that can match this feat is certainly very limited. As a conservative figure, perhaps less than 100 people would be able to accomplish this. That leaves the bulk of the 6 billion people on this planet somewhat less capable. That makes about one in 60 million capable of lifting that much weight. In AD&D, the odds of rolling a natural 18 are 1 in 1296. In order to get the additional Strength required to reach this maximum, one must be a Warrior, and roll a percentile score for Strength, termed 'Exceptional Strength'. This brings the odds to one in 129,600, several orders of magnitude less than the one in 60 million that would be expected. Games that use a percentile system have even better chances of achieving these lofty feats of strength, as there is relatively certain one in one hundred chance of attaining the highest score possible. Some games focus on characters whose abilities far exceed human potential, such as superheroes from comic books, and these games don't necessarily conform to these standards. Characters in Vampire: The Masquerade are able to lift and possibly throw a bus with a high enough Strength score. In the HERO system, as a Normal character, your Strength would be limited to on par with an Olympic lifter. However, as a superhero in the HERO system, there is no upper limit on the Strength statistic. Most games that focus on more mundane types of characters, such as modern or futuristic settings, tend to keep things on more of a 'realistic' scale. Therefore, while Strength is a universal attribute, the treatment of it within the game isn't. This can be an important consideration when determining the type of game you are designing, or deciding on playing.


What then, is the philosophy of the Strength attribute? In almost all games, with the possible exception of Head: The Floating, there are always going to be physical actions that need to be resolved. Some highly enjoyable gaming sessions have almost nothing but physical action resolutions. Even campaigns that are more involved with intrigue and social conflicts are going to have some form of physical confrontation at some point. It's nearly impossible to entirely avoid it. Some games have a greater focus on Physical contests, and these are usually Heroic or High Fantasy games. Other games have a greater focus on common interactions between people, or on political intrigue. Typically, these are Realistic or Low Fantasy games, in that the characters are not routinely expected to perform 'larger than life' feats of prowess. However, in any game in which characters have a corporeal form, there must be a way to measure the physical power of that form. Thus, Strength is a universal attribute, in one form or another.


That should wrap things up on Strength for now, but I'm sure I will come back to it in future installments. In the next column, I will explore another Physical attribute, in the form of Dexterity. After the basic Attributes are covered, the controversial topic of 'Should attributes be improvable, and if so, how?' will combine these topics and discuss the merits and problems associated with improving a character's basic attributes.


Until then, Game On!!


StormBringer