Posts Tagged ‘Dungeonsiege’

28
Aug

Magic – The first thing I’d change in D&D

   Posted by: Kevin    in Game Design, rpg

This post is in response to a long standing request from wickedmurph that instead of just declaring what I don’t like about the track WotC took with 4E D&D, I focus on expending energy taking a crack at fixing what I think is wrong with D&D. I accepted the challenge as a fair and resonable request and could have simply tossed out KORE as a representation of what a rpg should be, but that would have been (at least to me) disingenuous. KORE is a seperate, universal system and not a representation of what I think D&D should be. However, given my last rant, I thought it was time I set to the task.

Some ground rules on the process:

Try to remember that this is just an exercise in what I would have done. Everything here is opinion. Feel free to disagree, consider me an idiot, whatever. If 4E works for you and your gaming crowd, then by all means play it to your hearts’ content. I applaud all fun had in this hobby. However, as I’ve stated numerous times, 4E doesn’t work for me or my gaming crowd. As a result of this, I would not have made the same changes to the game that WotC did. What follows is the first piece of where I would have focused my changes and where I would have gone with the intellectual property. Expect more posts to follow in later days.

My methodology in the process will be guided by a short list of principles:

  • Rules should be simple guides, with options to be expand by the DM.
  • Rules should lead to interesting options.
  • Rules ignored should be rules removed.
  • No Rule is sacred.
  • No inspiration forbidden.

For this process we can assume our starting point is one of the following:

  • Go all the way back to 2E and take a different approach to changes into a new 3E.
  • 3E or 3.5E since they’re fundamentally the same creature (those wanting to argue otherwise should consider that the entirety of the changes in the system fit in one nice downloadable pdf) and make our way forward ignoring 4E.
  • Start with 4E and try to clean it up.

Neither of the last two options really appeal to me since I have issues with both 4E and 3.xE versions. As a result, rather than just frustrate the daylights out of myself trying to fix 4E, I’ll go with trying to turn 2E into a better version of 4E by removing the bloat of the 3.xE versions of the game. This isn’t to say that 2E is a great starting point, but it’s probably the best choice we have if we want to retain some continuity without just creating our own OSR. However, I do intend to address the roots of the problems in the game, so some of the things I’ll be changing will go all the way back to the beginning; magic is a perfect example of this.

Where to start?

The first thing I would have done was address the issue with spellcasters being so wimpy at level 1 and artificially hamstrung nukes at higher levels. 4E addresses this by balancing all the classes with powers that follow a special formulaic mechanic of daily/encounter/etc. use powers and skills. Basically, in 4E, WotC applied all that’s wrong with Vancian magic to everyone. So first up on my chopping block: Vancian magic and all that it does wrong, and finding a way to have the perfect union of a single concept in two forms.

For those unfamiliar with the term, Vancian Magic is a specific form of “rule magic” that conforms to these functional rules (along with whatever other metaphysics the writer chooses):

  1. Magical effects are packaged into distinct spells; each spell has one fixed purpose. A spell that throws a ball of fire at an enemy just throws balls of fire, and generally cannot be “turned down” to light a cigarette, for instance. I may not like this specifically, but for the nature of a D&D game, it works fine and I believe we can leave it alone.
  2. Spells represent a kind of “magic-bomb” which must be prepared in advance of actual use, and each prepared spell can be used only once before needing to be prepared again. That’s why it is also known as “Fire & Forget magic”. This is a major sticking point for me. We’ll be addressing this specifically.
  3. Magic-users have a finite capacity of prepared spells which is the de facto measure of their skill and/or power. A spellcaster using magic for combat is thus something like a living gun: he must be “loaded” with spells beforehand and can run out of magical “ammunition”. Again, this is wrong in my estimation so we will also be eliminating this in our new system.

Vancian magic is described more fully here and here.

This article by Gary is a good read on how Jack Vance’s Dying Earth influenced the D&D game.

I sincerely think that in 4E, WotC went down the wrong path when they chose to apply per X use and limitations on all classes in an attempt to downplay the effect this very limitation as applied to spellcasters was viewed in pre-4E games. Basically one of my major gripes with the 4E system is that WotC took the two major problems with Vancian magic (which historically only applied to arcane spellcasters like the magic-user and sorcerer) and applied it to the skills and powers of all classes in some misguided effort to balance the game experience equation. I realize that if you’re creating a tactical simulation that might be exactly what you need to do to balance the classes, but I think that’s the wrong way to go in a rpg.

I also tend to think opposition to changing the magic paradigm in D&D is due to fear. I hope to address those fears and demonstrate how they can be assuaged. But for now, let’s assume that when we’re done with this exercise, we’re going to end up with a magic system that doesn’t look much like the Vancian-inspired one in D&D, embrace what feels right about whatever system or mechanic choice we make, and just see where it leads us.

What’s wrong with what we have?

To get the ball rolling, let’s explore the four main reasons I hate the Vancian take on magic as it is portrayed and mechanically described by the rules in all versions of D&D. Let’s look at what each of these issues brings to (or removes from) the gaming table. As I pointed out earlier, WotC decided to apply some of the limitations described here to all the classes in 4E, so you can imagine how much the entire game irks me. Your list may be entirely different (or non-existent for that matter) but this is mine:

  1. The idea that spellcasters must memorize each and every spell each and every day (and after each and every cast) just to remember the specific magical formulas that they’re so versed in is about as un-magical in its application as I can imagine. Any attempt by the proponents of this type of system to defend it usually leads to discussions on how the formula becomes magically etched in the caster’s brain and “erases” itself in the casting. Never you mind that a magic-user can memorize the same spell a number of times and cast it equally well until all those specific memorizations are expended… here the magic-user sounds more like a magical firearm or battery than anything else. Also, it begs the question as to the believability of this reasoning by leading to discussions where a magic-user memorizes a spell, rests for one hour and has to re-memorize that spell because it was lost.
  2. Limiting the number of spells a magic-user can cast per day makes Vancian magic virtually unplayable at lower levels and ridiculously gimped at upper levels. I won’t really get into the whole reason that magic-users were given the crossbow as a weapon in 3E. It is obvious to me that it was an attempt to hide the flaw in spell limitations that was so present in the system due to the Vancian system.
  3. Vancian magic leads to choices – which are good in games. But did it lead to interesting choices? Often? The choices a magic-user has under a Vancian system is a lot like trying to guess what would be most appropriate stock to pick for the future. While some may think this is great because it leads to interesting situations, it is a very illogical and artificial ruling. I would prefer to move the interesting choice to a different facet of spell selection and make the choice more meaningful and less guesswork.
  4. One of the most often ignored parts of the D&D magic system has been the time it takes to memorize and pray for spells. In addition to the (I think it was 15 minutes per level of spell to be memorized), in later editions there was a requirement for 8 hours of rest prior to memorization just to prepare the mind for said memorization… Really? Wow, magic-users must really suck at harnessing magic, because that’s just lame. Result? Ignore the rule. End result, rules that aren’t played. Remembering our mantra, rules that are ignored or hand-waved (like weapons speeds and weapon versus AC modifiers) because they’re not playable should be removed… post haste.

In addition to the above list of Vancian wrongs, I’ll add a few other things to my list of changes we should address. These changes will come out of a desire to follow the reduction methodology to our new rules. Like time requirements for memorization highlighted above, if a rule is ignored by the majority of the gaming populace, then it should be removed. Two main features of spells that are routinely ignored are:

  • Spell casting times
  • Components

Both casting times and components are intriguing ideas, and while I may personally like the idea of both in limited form for a handful of spells, it is my belief that both are ignored by most players in nearly all occasions. Because of my opinion that rules ignored should be rules eliminated, casting time and components should be removed for nearly every spell. I’ll let DMs make exceptions to this decision, but in our new system, these two facets of spells will be removed.

Furethermore, in the list of things to be removed, a spell comes to mind as well:

Read magic as a spell requried to be known in order to read and understand magic (which is the life study of magic-users) is absurd at best. I know few who actually play the requirement of this spell. Again, since my process indicates that items ignored should be eliminated, this spell must go.

Wow, according to me, there’s a lot wrong with the mechanics of magic. Redesigning them and capturing a real magic feel will be a challenge. But let’s not shrink from the challenge. We have options, options aplenty! Let’s take a look at a radically different way of doing this stuff and see if perhaps there’s a happy medium that will allow arcane spellcasters to shine without stealing the spotlight.

But how to change it?

What if magic-users were like unlearned supers who had the potential to have access to every spell no matter the level and were capable of learning and therefore casting any level of spell they have studied? All spells would be available to the caster at any moment (since we’d presume they remember it) and could be cast repeatedly and with impunity, therefore eliminating some of the perils of Vancian Magic. I see this a lot like a version of magic in most supers games and also much like magic in the Harry Potterverse.

For example, a 2nd level magic-user is adventuring in a tomb with her comrades. She has already learned the following spells:

At any time during the game, the player can choose any of these spells for her magic-user to cast since she has studied and knows them. She needn’t guess at what will be useful since she need not prepare spells. During their adventure, the magic-user finds a tome with an arcane spell. Over the course of time (determined by the DM) she studies the text and learns a new 3rd level spell: Vampiric Touch. After study and memorization she adds this spell to her repetoire. Now she can cast this spell at any time, just as she could any of those previously listed.

Note that in this new paradigm, the magic-user has access to spells outside her previously described capability in all prior versions of D&D. She can cast spells above what she would have historically been granted by the spell progression charts. In fact, under this new methodology, she can repeatedly cast a spell that is considered above her class level. (If she had discovered and learned a 7th level spell, she would have access to the spell as well.) That’s perfectly ok, spell progression charts were an atrificial construct to prevent fears we will address later. If we look across the class isle at the fighter, we don’t see an artificially imposed restriction on the use of magical swords. (Except in the new daily/encounter use powers of some magical items in 4E, but we’re eliminating the Vancian paradigm here and remember that we’re ignoring 4E in this process so we can assume it doesn’t actually exist.) So why should we apply this construct to the arcane classes?

Also, in this new way of seeing magic, spells would still need to be learned and discovered, but once so, what if they were permanently etched in the mind of the mage? That sounds more likely, again if we glance across the isle, it’s not as if fighters need to break out a manual every morning to recall how to swing a sword. So why artificially force the arcane classes to do so? Fear. Fear that the class will break balance and fail to meet the Interesting Choice tennant.

If this has you thinking that it sounds a lot like I’m advocating for the removal of the magic-user in preference to a sorcer style class that need not prepare spells before casting them, you’re partially right. I’ll address the full implications on the sorcerer class in the heading But What about the Sorcerer.

The First Fear

What’s our fear? Are we afraid that the game will become some representation of Dungeon Siege or Diablo in which spellcasters only work their way up some spell tree to the next best spell and are rarely ever required to make an interesting choice to “step it down a notch” in their selection?

Aren’t most fighters really played this way? Sir Slash the Hackmaster gets his hands on that coveted +4 sword and you’ll probably never see him choose a different weapon if he can help it… at least not until he discovers a +5 version. Why assume spellcasters would be any different? What’s more, why write rules to force them to be? This shouldn’t be part of the rules. Rather, let the scenario and situation described by the DM give them reasons to do otherwise, don’t force it in the mechanics. If you want Sir Slash to use his bow, you (the DM) create the opportunity for him to select a different weapon. You don’t artificially state that, according to the rules, Slash can swing a sword X number of times before he must change to his bow for Y attacks. And what’s more, Slash’s player must decide beforehand, while preparing for the day’s adventure, out of N possible total attacks with X+Y=N, what values of X and Y will be chosen… absurd? Very.

So assuming once again that we’re going to end up with something unlike the current system, let’s agree to embrace what feels right about the logic of the Diablo-esque/Dungeon Siege spell selection mechanic and give arcane classes free reign to all the spells at their disposal… at any time. Now that arcane spellcasters are allowed to cast any spell they know at any time they feel it appropriate, doesn’t that feel more natural in the setting? Mages aren’t just dangerous for their capacity to wield arcane might, but for the possible depth within which they’ve studied the arcane itself. With this single decision we’ve unfettered the magic system and addressed issues #1, #2, and #4 and added more interest to the class.

Consider now the magic-user player who suddenly has a legitimate reason and desire to seek out, learn and study ancient lore for a glimpse into that new and unknown bit of magic. Consider their glee in finding a new spell to devour and harness. This is the stuff of real wizards, not the hour and a half spent every morning re-memorizing the formula that they memorized just yesterday. We’ve just added depth to the character, that’s a good thing.

But somewhere there’s a niggling fear that we’ve created a monster of a class without any real interesting options. Let’s examine those fears.

Fear, Take Two

What’s our next fear? Mages will become the nuke of every encounter and just throw fireball after fireball without ever thinking, thus violating  a core tennant, the Interesting Choice rule of a good game, and putting us squarely back with issue #3. Tied to this fear is a newly created issue spawned by our change: The creation of the everyman, a class that can do anything as good as, or better than, any other class and is therefore the only real class choice to make. (This is another violation of the Interesting Choice tennant in disguise.) Now there are a couple of valid fears that I could see arising from our removal of the “spells per day, spell progression, and spells known” mechanics. But before we scrap the idea as broken, let’s not run from the concept, rather let’s see if there’s anything we can use either already in the game, or perhaps from outside to address it.

Preventing Lather, Rinse, Repeat

Readers of this blog will note that my family and I play a MMO game called Wizard101. Wizard101 has a mechanic to prevent every spell cast from boringly working every time and therefore being the only spell of choice in a duel. This mechanic is called Fizzle. For the record, my wizard Kevin FireForge has the mantle of King of Fizzle because his spells fail often. Fizzle rates for spells are based on the type, cost to cast, result, and school and range from 90% to 0% depending.

For those of you coming to this discussion from the D&D side of the hobby, think of Fizzle as an over-arching Spell Failure rate unaffected by clothing selection. I believe arcane spell failure was introduced in 2E, though it might have been a 3E rule. Prior to the rule, magic-users could not cast spells when wearing armor. The nature of the failure isn’t important to us per se, but once again the core mechanic tends to make me think of the Potterverse where performing a spell wrong (usually) simply makes nothing happen. Some spells are more difficult to cast (and therefore have a higher fizzle rate) and some are easy to master (and have little or no fizzle rate.)

I propose we take this Fizzle idea, rename it Spell Failure to make it simple to comprehend for legacy D&D players, and graft it onto our new idea of magic. Since spells conveniently range in level from 0 to 9, let’s take advantage of some really nifty and easy math and codify the idea by saying that spells have a failure percentage rate equal to their level times 5. Cantrips (level 0 spells) succeed 100% of the time unless opposed by some factor while the really big guns of magic need proper care in casting and a bit of luck to fire. So, for instance, a level 3 spell has a spell failure rate of 15%; it will be successfully cast 85% of the time while a level 9 spell has little better than a 50/50 chance of being cast properly.

Some of you may now be wondering if I’ll be removing Arcane Spell Failure rules for magic-users casting spells in armor. Keep reading, that’s part of the Everyman fear. I’ll address it under the heading Wizards in Plate.

How does this address issue #3? Well, in this way, at least in combat, a tactically interesting situation for spell casters would be seen every round in the form of a choice of “throwing a big nuke” that has a good chance of failure (and therefore being a dud) or performing a lesser bit of arcane lore that, though less impressive, is also more likely succeed. If ninth level spells are just a bit over a coin toss to succeed before the rest of the spell mechanics fall into play, then we no longer need fear that the magic-user will simply be the fireball Gatling Gun of the party. Instead the magic-user takes its place as the iconic, arcane, Swiss army knife they should be.

Perhaps magic items would arise that aid the successful casting of spells. I envision something like:

The Artful Wand (minor magic item)
Grants: Improved Spellcasting conferring a 2% reduction in Spell Failure when casting arcane spells.

And what of factors against spellcasting? How about a new spell?

Bumbler’s Curse
Effect: Debilitated Spellcasting. 1% per level reduction to spell casting success for target for 1 hour per level.

Or a new feat to raise our magic-user’s chances of being successful?

Precise Motions
Effect: Raises the successful casting percentage of all spells by 5%

Or a new magic-hindering trap:

Dampened Magic Zone
Effect: All spells have double their failure rate in the area of effect.

The Everyman Fear

The next fear we should address is this fear that the magic-user will essentially become an everyman, jack of all trades, and eventually outshine all the other classes. Since their magic could do anything significantly class-oriented, this fear is, on the surface, a valid one. (Some may claim that this situation already exists, but let’s address it none-the-less.) However, considering that each spell requires a percentile roll to even be successfully cast, then another roll at times to hit, likely a saving throw in there too and you’ve got the makings for a less assured comparison.

A fighter has to roll to hit, then damage, while a magic-user has to roll to succeed in casting, roll to hit, then roll damage which can be (partially or completely) negated by a saving throw. From this simplistic analysis we see that a fighter is a better “over the course of a fight” damage dealer than the spellcaster since factors such as “to hit” rolls in conjunction with spell failure make the spellcaster less likely to successfully perform the big, damage-dealing spells often. The magic-user can dish out some damage, but for assured damage dealing, a fighter is the go-to guy.

But what of those spells that lie outside of combat and therefore could be rolled repeatedly until success is guaranteed? This situation could be said of the rogue and its ability to hide, backstab, open locks, remove traps, etc. But if the fear is too great for the less combat tangible situations, simply make sure that equal level classes never get out-shined by the magic of the spellcaster. (i.e. make sure that find traps has a slightly less effective rate of success than that of an average rogue.) In this light the spellcaster would be the go-to guy when the rogue is incapacitated, but not the go-to guy when the rogue is available.

In this new analysis, the magic-user becomes at worst a lesser everyman, which is arguably where the class started before we began. Since we’ve done nothing to increase this issue, I think the fear should be assuaged.

Wizards in plate

In order to deal with our co-opting of spell failure and the concerns that a high level magic-user will essentially outshine any other class, we should consider that allowing the arcane spellcaster access to armor wasn’t a good design choice. As a result, wizards will suffer complete spell failure when in armor exceeding the protection of clothing. This is a good design decision in that it removes many smaller rules (armor percentages for spell failure) for one single rule.

This is also a good idea since this places the magic-user (with lower HP and defense) back in a position of vulnerability from a physical standpoint, and therefore less likely to take the lead Everyman role. For those interested in class niche-protection, this ruling prevents the magic-user from taking on the role of a magical warrior or a secondary cleric. If the magic-user can wear no armor, they are once again balanced defensively against their formidable offensive capabilities. As a result, the re-inclusion of this rule adds more interest to the game than its removal brought.

  • Does this mean that magic-users can’t wear armor and use a shield? Absolutely not.
  • Does this mean that magic-users can’t cast spells successfully in armor or while carrying a shield? Absolutely!

Let’s examine the logic behind this idea. Assuming that all forms of armor are constrictive in nature of movement (and I can’t think of a single type that isn’t), this restriction makes perfect sense. Harnessing arcane energies in formulaic somatic methods requires precision that must be matched perfectly. Armor restricts precision. Therefore, if hindrances such as binding hands causes spells to be un-castable, then by simple analogy, why should restrictive armor not do the same?

But what about Sorcerers?

Our final hurdle is the inclusion of the Sorcerer in D&D. Historically the magic-user was the arcane spellcaster and was epitomized as the scholarly student of the arcane. However, with the inclusion of Dark Sun, a new arcane class emerged, epitomized by a charismatic wielder of innate magics; the sorcerer. As described in 3E, in terms of general mechanics, sorcerers don’t need to learn spells. As masters of arcane magic, their magical ability is innate rather than studied.

Unlike the current magic-user, and more like our propsed magic-user, sorcerers need not prepare spells. However, if we apply our freedom to select any spell known to the innate abilities of the sorcerer, we find ourselves in a quandry. How can we avoid this new everyman issue of the sorcerer having unfetterd access to all the spells?

Personally I’d prefer to roll back and eliminate the Sorcerer altogether and fold the class back into the magic-user. However, I realize that many would contend that the class is now iconic to the game and removing it a bridge too far. Well, we just removed Vancian magic from D&D, present since the Basic Edition, so the removal of the sorcerer shouldn’t be much more than an afterthought.

However, let’s assume you don’t want to remove the sorcerer but instead want to remove Vancian magic. How can we mesh the two concepts?

While the sorcerer may at first appear to be a major roadblock to our new concept of any magical spell learned being available to a spellcaster. The solution isn’t as drastic as you might think. We simply change the spells available for a Sorcerer to cast as a list containing any spell of their level and below. Put another way, a sorcerer’s available spell list is the same as all the arcane spells of spell level equal to their class level and below. The drawback of a sorcerer is that they do not learn spells and therefore cannot cast spells above their levels. Since their magic is innate they don’t gain the benefit of learning spells.

Let’s sum up the changes proposed:

I know this has become quite a long article, but I wanted to make sure to address the issues I’ve raised thoroughly and fairly. Magic is an integral part of the game and over the years I’ve come to believe that it’s been done wrong since the beginning and adhered to in spite of the shortcomings because of fear. I feel that with the changes mentioned, magic would once again give the game that elusive magical quality it has been missing while avoiding the pitfalls of the current system.

  • Magic-users can cast any spell they’ve studied without the need to prepare.
  • Spells have an innate failure rate equal to Spell Level x 5% that determines if the caster performed the incantation correctly.
  • Armor causes arcane spells to fail to be cast.
  • Sorcerers, if they’re still present, have access to any arcane spell so long as the spell level is not above their class level.

Sounds more like magic to me. Think I’m crazy? Then chime in and tell me where I’ve taken the left at Albuquerque.

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29
Oct

Improvement mechanics (long post warning)

   Posted by: Kevin    in Game Design, KORE rpg, rpg, rules

I was really pleased with the simplicity of the original skill improvement section of the Version 0 rules. Specifically, skills could be improved in three disctinct fashions; a Flash of Brilliance, Trial and Error, or by Learning.

These three mechanisms have three seperate spheres of influence respectively; in game, end of story arc, and out of play context.

I’m really proud of the Flash of Brilliance idea. It gives the player a distinct advantage and allows for immediate improvement within the game. See my post on rewards as they apply to Dungeonsiege to understand why I like this idea so much. – KO

Here’s how the original improvement mechanics were put down…

Improving:

Flash of Brilliance
If a character succeeds remarkably in a skill by rolling a 1 in a non-opposed check or a 10 in an opposed check, that skill has the possibility of improving immediately due to a flash of brilliance. To see if such an event has occurred, the player rolls an additional d10. If the roll is above the current skill score, then 1 point is added immediately to the skill.

Example of Flash of Brilliance:
Odie is fleeing from Something Nasty that is pursuing him out of the cellar of the lighthouse. Odie’s player asks if a successful Occult Lore skill check would provide any help in determining how to defeat or subdue the Nasty thing behind him. The GM agrees and Odie rolls a d10 and gets a 1. Brilliance!
Odie rolls another d10 and gets a 6. Since 6 is greater than 4 (Odie’s current Occult Lore skill), Occult Lore is immediately increased to 5.
Odie recalls something he read in a dusty tome years ago and reaches into his pocket for the sprig of mistletoe he always carries. Praying that his gambit works, Odie turns and holds it directly in front of him…

Trial and Error
Characters get better at skills by using them.
If a character succeeds in a skill check, regardless of opposition, he or she should put a check beside that skill. Once the scenario is over, the player will roll d10 for each skill that is “checked.” If the d10 roll is above the current score, then 1 point is added to the skill. This simulates learning by success as well as making progress to high skills more and more difficult.

Example of Trial and Error:
Since Odie has survived the horror beneath the lighthouse and has returned home to rest and recuperate, he has a chance to learn from his mistakes and successes. During the investigation the following skills were “checked.”

  • Club (a new skill that was previously unlisted and assumed to have a skill of 1)
  • Occult Lore (currently at 5)
  • Architecture (currently at 2)
  • Investigate (currently at 4)
  • Odie rolls d10 for Club and gets a 3. Since 3 is greater than 1, Club is increased to 2.
  • Odie rolls d10 for Occult Lore and gets a 7. Since 7 is greater than 5, Occult Lore is increased to 6.
  • Odie rolls d10 for Architecture and gets a 1… bummer. Architecture is left at 2.
  • Odie rolls d10 for Investigate and gets a 4. Since 4 is not greater than 4, Investigate is left at 4.

Learning from a buddy
Any character with a skill greater than 5 can teach that skill to another. Learning takes 1 month for each point learned and can be raised in this fashion to a maximum of one-half the skill of the teacher (rounded down.) Learning and teaching are mutually exclusive events. One cannot teach and learn in the same month.

Example of Learning:
Thinking that perhaps there are easier ways to make a living, Odie calls his buddy Woz to teach him how to gamble effectively. Woz is a professional poker player with a gamble skill of 7. Since Woz’s skill is greater than 5, he can teach Odie how to gamble more effectively than a normal slot-jockey. While Woz is arguably an excellent player, the most Woz can teach Odie the gamble skill is: 7 / 2 = 3.5 = 3. Odie and Woz are taken out of commission for 3 months as Woz takes Odie under his wing. After the 3 months, Odie now has a gamble skill of 3.

The flash of brilliance mechanic caught one of my player’s eyes almost immediately. Here was his response:

The only thing I noticed right off is the Flash of Briliance. I really like the idea, but I think the number of times we roll a 1 or 10, then just have to beat our score, after a few session I think many of our skills would be maxed out. Might be better if you have to roll two 1′s or 10′s in a row, makes it more difficult and hopefully less common.

-L

Now, keep in mind that L is a pretty hardcore D&D player who likes crunchy rules and lots of dice to roll and chance to dictate the play. That’s not a bad thing, so don’t flame me for pointing it out. But I think he was working under the false impression that we would be rolling for a lot of checks. While I’ll admit I used to do so in the past, I really wasn’t envisioning this ruleset to be used to constantly roll lots of dice. Instead, I intended to make the checks only be rolled for if the outcome (success or failure) would be interesting. So with that in mind, I demonstrated the math in mock tabular format:

Intital Score: FOB Chance x Chance to beat current score = Chance to improve

Kevin’s Proposed Method
1: 10% x 90% = 9%
2: 10% x 80% = 8%
3: 10% x 70% = 7%
4: 10% x 60% = 6%
5: 10% x 50% = 5%
6: 10% x 40% = 4%
7: 10% x 30% = 3%
8: 10% x 20% = 2%
9: 10% x 10% = 1%
10: 10% x 0% = 0%

Results in a diminishing linear probability with faster skill increases due to FOB, but with a diminishing probability as skill competency increases.

L’s Proposed Method
1: 10% x 10% = 1%
2: 10% x 10% = 1%
3: 10% x 10% = 1%
4: 10% x 10% = 1%
5: 10% x 10% = 1%
6: 10% x 10% = 1%
7: 10% x 10% = 1%
8: 10% x 10% = 1%
9: 10% x 10% = 1%
10: 10% x 10% = 1% <– Ignored as 10 is considered the maximum score

Results in a flat linear skill increase probability.

-Kevin

I’ll admit I liked the “less likely” part of L’s proposal, but I didn’t like the part where mathematically there was an exception to the rule. Namely that at skill level 10, we had to handwave away the Flash of Brilliance improvements rather than let the math just eliminate the possibility. In an attempt to help the players understand that relentless dice rolling wasn’t going to be the modus operendi, I also shot this across the email system:

I guess I should probably add that I assumed this would help offset any “leveling up” desires in the deep seated D&D part of our collective brains. Since the proposed system doesn’t currently allow for additional points for buying (something we may also want to consider) this would allow you to improve a low score quickly to competency via use, while still holding off on us all ending up with 10′s across the board.

-Kevin

I also thought it would be appropriate to analyze the Trial and Error mechanic in the same mock tabular format, so I sent it out too:

I’ll also pass on the probability scores for improving a skill via my proposed trial and error improvement option

Score: Success Chance x Chance to beat current score = Chance to improve
1: 10% x 90% = 9%
2: 20% x 80% = 16%
3: 30% x 70% = 21%
4: 40% x 60% = 24%
5: 50% x 50% = 25%
6: 60% x 40% = 24%
7: 70% x 30% = 21%
8: 80% x 20% = 16%
9: 90% x 10% = 9%
10: 100% x 0% = 0%

Results in a pretty good bell curve.

-Kevin

I really liked the simple bell curve this improvement mechanic displayed, and while I thought the magnatude of the percentiles would also scare off the players, surprisingly they weren’t even mentioned intitially. Instead, another player chimed in and affirmed L’s fears.

I’d probably lean toward L’s method just to keep it from artificially throttling skills up right off the bat. The GM’s perspective on use of those skills is more important than anything. You can adjust it to fit as necessary based on good ideas which is less artificial.

-M

In hindsight I probably should have addressed the underlying assumption of their concerns, but I didn’t. And with that, a small bit of complexity crept into the system.

Then I too fell prey to the “we’re gonna throw a lot of dice” mind-set and wanted to revisit the Trial and Error improvement mechanics…

I’m a little concerned that the method I’ve proposed is developmentally too fast.
I’m concerned that a scenario may indeed utilize all a character’s skills and thereby provide massive advancement in a single setting.
Couple of ideas to limit this sort of thing:

  1. The maximum number of skill improvements can not exceed a character’s IKE score. (The player gets to decide which skill improvements will be tested for.)
  2. We kludge my initial FOB test and use it for Trial and Error like this:
    Player 1 has “checked” 3 skills that he was successful in using during the scenario.
    Player 1 now rolls a d10 for each of these 3 skills.
    Results:
    Skill 1: 1
    Skill 2: 6
    Skill 3: 3
    Only skill 1 can be considered to improve.
    Skill 1 has a current score of 3
    Player 1 rolls another d10 and gets a 7.
    This beats a 3, so Player 1′s Skill 1 is improved to a 4.
    The resulting math states that the chance of improving a score due to trial and error would be:
    Score: Success Chance x Improve Chance x Chance to beat current score = Total Chance to improve
    1: 10% x 10% x 90% = 1%
    2: 20% x 10% x 80% = 2%
    3: 30% x 10% x 70% = 2%
    4: 40% x 10% x 60% = 2%
    5: 50% x 10% x 50% = 3%
    6: 60% x 10% x 40% = 2%
    7: 70% x 10% x 30% = 2%
    8: 80% x 10% x 20% = 2%
    9: 90% x 10% x 10% = 1%
    10: 100% x 10% x 0% = 0%
    Which I like better.

-Kevin

As you can see, I fell into the same trap of assuming a lot of rolling. M tried to provide me a way out, but apparently I failed to see the light:

Off the top of my head, the Top Secret system used “critical rolls” such as 11, 22, 33 … and 01-05 for something like Flash of Brilliance.   The general odds were less than 10% to increase a skill/ability by 1%.   Given the nature of the system, it was less than 8% most of the time since critical rolls had to be less than the percentile skill ability.   If you scale that down to a single d10 system, L’s method is the simplest to utilize without having to keep track of what skills where successful  — it is also in the 1% range, slightly above a system designed by so called “experts”.  It also keeps the tie for a singular event tied to the skill that was used rather than picking and choosing.    People are often skilled in areas they really had never considered.

Likewise, the most common abuse of such a system is rolling dice for a skill check just to be rolling.   That happened entirely too often in the TS world.   If the common approach is that skill checks are only necessary if the task is difficult in comparison to the current skill score, artificial inflation would be uncommon.   There is the odd-chance that a character would spurt ahead for a session or two but that’d likely balance quickly.

What you are really looking for is an exponentially increasing difficulty for FOB checks that isn’t significantly easy to accomplish for the lower skill levels.    To accomplish that, you need a 1 followed by an initial FOB check that must also be 1, followed by a roll that must be higher than the current skill level of the character.    Best case is 10% x 10% x 90% = .9% (0.009).   Eventually you get down to .1% chance to increase on a FOB check.   While that seems low, it makes the chance of it happening very unlikely, which I find realistic.   Most skills take a lot of practice to self-learn.   I could get basic training in swinging a sword but might swing it a 1000 times before I understand how the technique I was taught is really effective.  

On the other hand, if a person RP’s using a skill wisely and well within the scope of their ability, the GM might note a skill check of 1 even after a failed FoB check and award the point anyway.   I would always vote to take the dice out of the game rather than luring characters to roll even if there is no purpose.

-M

At this point I allowed the complexity to enter the system, and that’s where I failed in one of my core tennents to the system design. Eventually I reworked the mechanics, eliminating the complexity and redundant dice rolling. I returned to the simple solution and allowed the GM to decide on how fast a player has the chance of improving by dictating how often skills should be tested.

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27
Oct

Reward made easy

   Posted by: Kevin    in Crpg, Game Design, KORE rpg, rpg, rules

We had a bit of a family gathering this last weekend and I introduced my sister to Dungeonsiege. I have to admit that I love this game for a variety of reasons. Whereas Neverwinter Nights has a powerful toolset and the D&D ruleset behind it, Dungeonsiege has a couple of somethings that makes it a far more successful gateway game to the uninitiated.

For starters, the entire system can be mastered with only a mouse. Where keyboard inputs certainly make potion use easier, there isn’t a need for much more than point and click. In fact, the entire game is rather similar to Diablo (a blessing as well as a curse depending on who you ask.) While that might seem like a drawback to depth, my experience in the exact opposite. Any time you force the player to take focus off the game and onto the interface, you’ve broken the immersion.

Next, the game lends itself to the simple “kill them and take their stuff” mode that most early D&D games emulated. Again, a good homage in my book. Again akin to Diablo, for good or ill.

I’ll briefly mention that the lack of load screens and the whole world as a single map are great inducements to multiplayer games. And let’s not forget the simple “click on my pic to follow/support me” mode. God I love that – and constantly wonder why NwN doesn’t have something akin to it. These simple enhancements allow for a group feel that helps an experienced player introduce the game to another with relative ease.

Perhaps I should consider scripting the functionality up – KO

Finally, and the focus of what makes this game a great gateway drug, the improvement reward mechanics are about as simple as can be.

  • Want to be a better melee basher? Then just pick up a melee weapon and start bashing. Doing so will improve your melee skill as well as your strength. 
  • Want to be a better archer? Start killing things with your bow. Doing so will improve your ranged skill as well as your dexterity.
  • Want to be a better nature mage? Then use nature magic. Doing so improves your nature magic skill as well as your intelligence.
  • The same pattern applies for combat magic.

The simplicity of this brilliant improvement mechanic is genius. Its easy to understand, follows a predictable pattern, and instead of having an arbitrary choice after the fact, places the decision of improvement directly into the game world. That’s simplicity and immersion in the improvement mechanic. And that’s sheer brilliance.

So what can we learn about rpgs in general from this little Dungeonsiege plug?

For starters, for a game to appeal to a wide range of players, it should be relatively easy to pick up, easy to immediately “get in to”, and easy to teach. It should also allow for the flexibility of increasing the complexity as required by the players. But sometimes complex isn’t necessarialy better – in fact, I’m aware of at least a handful of individuals who won’t play D&D. The bulk cite complexity as their major hang-up to the game. Not that I’m advocating taking flexibility out of the system, rather I’m in favor of streamlining the rules to allow for more logical outcomes from actions.

That’s something I tried to keep in mind when I began thinking about the level/improvement/reward mechanics for KORE.

In scouring other games, I found that the two mainstream games that somewhat modeled this behavior were Top Secret and Call of Cthulhu. In both, when you succeed at a skill test, you have a chance of improving in that skill. A simple and easy method to understand a la “Practice makes perfect.”

That’s the mechanic I hope to emulate in KORE – with flourishes of course.

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