RPG Design: Balancing Skills

This week, I wanted to discuss an important but sometimes underthought or overlooked issue for tabletop RPGs: Balancing Skills.  For purposes of this post, by "Balancing Skills," I'm referring to skills being balanced in terms of power/utility compared to each other.

In addition, by "Skills," I'm broadly referring to areas of a Player Character's expertise that can have an in-game effect.  This runs the gamut from swinging a sword to speaking a language to disarming a trap, etc.

You know, like nunchuck skills, bowhunting skills, computer hacking skills...

Every role-playing game has a skill system, whether or not it's expressly set forth in the rules set.  For example, in older editions of Dungeons & Dragons, skills are mostly subsumed into other parts of the rules (e.g., THAC0, ability scores, class features, etc.) or else hand waved and house ruled.  So, a PC's maximum number of languages and retainers are determined by Intelligence and Charisma, respectively.  Or, since there's no negotiation skill, the DM will often simply role-play a situation or ask the PC to make a roll against their Charisma score or some other target number (e.g., 1 in 6, 2 in 6, etc.).  It helps that D&D has a robust set of ability scores that, when doubled as skills, can cover many situations.

On the other hand, there are skill-based games such as GURPS, where the primary mechanic (success rolls) usually ends up as a skill check in actual play.  Unsurprisingly, skills usually take an outsized importance in classless games.  This is also often true in Stat + Skill systems, such as Exalted.

Problems arise when the designers to not think through their skill system.  Ideally, designers should consider both 1) Breadth and 2) Usage of skills so that a the value of a particular skill is roughly balanced against the others.

In terms of "Breadth," I'm referring to how broad is a particular skill's expertise.  For example, in Exalted, Melee covers proficiency in *ALL* weapons, making it an extremely broad skill.

By contrast, Call of Cthulhu divides up being sneaky into:

Conceal (Allows the visual covering up, secreting, or masking of an object or objects, perhaps with debris, cloth, or other intervening or illusion-promoting materials, perhaps by making a secret panel or false compartment, or perhaps by repainting or otherwise changing an item's characteristics to escape detection.)

Hide (As opposed to Conceal, Hide concerns the individual user's ability to escape detection in an unprepared position. Use this skill only in a pursuit situation, or when under surveillance or patrol.)

and

Sneak (The art of moving quietly, without alerting those who might hear. Used in combination with Hide, the investigator makes a single D100 roll, the result of which is matched against the investigator's percentages in both skills. Use this combination when silent movement is necessary.)

As a consequence, this division in CoC makes each individual skill weak and also makes it difficult to be a expert rogue.


A game's design should not only consider the general applicability of a skill, but also its Usage.  In terms of Usage, I'm referring to how often a skill is used in actual play.  Specific usage may vary due to genre or a group's play style, but usually some skills are used often and some skills are used rarely.

If a skill's Usage is relatively high, the designer should consider reducing it's Breadth.  Additionally, a game should have enough skills of sufficient Breadth to cover foreseeable situations of reasonable Usage.  So, for example, it's probably overkill for a typical fantasy game to include a skill for elephant riding.

In addition, the foregoing assumes that each skill costs the same number of skill points to purchase.  It's possible to balance by varying costs, using skill specialities, skill groups, etc.  However, as modern design tends toward greatly simplicity, I will stick with the assumption.


A notorious example of a game with a problematic skill system is Rifts:

There are over one hundred skills in Rifts, with gaps, overkill and redundancy.  Some are very narrow and not likely to ever be used in actual play (e.g., Boat Building).  Some skills should be combined (e.g., Automobile and Truck). Some skills overlap completely with another to make the other irrelevant (e.g., Concealment and Palming).

On the other hand, there's no Negotiation skill.

It doesn't help that there's no actual explanation of how to resolve non-combat skills.  The skills are rated by percentage, so presumably the player must make a d100 roll, but this is never expressly stated.

TV Review: "Korgoth of Barbaria" (2006)

[NB- this post is a slightly revised version of one that I published earlier]

This week, I wanted to give a shout out to a show that might have challenged "Berserk" (1997) as arguably the greatest Swords & Sorcery TV series of all time, "Korgoth of Barbaria":

A great "What if?", "Korgoth of Barbaria" was a pilot episode created by Aaron Springer and produced by Cartoon Network for Adult Swim.    This ripping yarn cranks the amps up to 11 as our eponymous hero (clearly inspired by Conan the Barbarian) carves a red path through a post-apocalyptic future Earth (clearly inspired, at least in part, by the classic cartoon Thundarr the Barbarian), in a orgy of death, sex and more death.  However, rather than grim dark, the show always has a sense of humor.

"The Great Cities have risen and fallen. Civilization's grip on mankind has grown weak and arthritic. Dark forces seek to renew forgotten covenants, and primordial beasts reclaim the wilderness. Out of the frozen north, a man emerges - a man of a barbaric age, whose merciless savagery may be the only key to his survival. They call him Korgoth!"

This show is metal, and I'm not just talking about the hard rock intro and soundtrack.  The violence is copious and WAY over the top.  The men are various shades of ugly, while the women are all lovely, voluptuous and highly sexualized.  Pretty much every frame of "Korgoth of Barbaria" could have been ripped from the pages of Métal Hurlant (known in America as Heavy Metal Magazine).  Korgoth's world is grim, violent, dirty and sexy, sometimes all at once:

"Korgoth of Barbaria" deftly veers between homage and parody.  On the one hand, the story works fine as a ripping Sword & Sorcery yarn, where the Conan-esque protagonist cleaves his way through mooks and monsters, beds a lusty wench and battles an evil sorcerer.  On the other hand, the show, as the tongue-in-cheek title suggests, also is clearly having a fun time in the process.  For example:

Scrotus: You! You will regret what you have done this day. I will make you regret ever being born! You're going to wish you'd never left your mother's womb, where it was warm, and safe, and wet. I'm going to show you pain you never knew existed. You're going to see a whole new spectrum of pain, like a rainbow!  

Hargon: You tell 'em Scrotus! [screams as Korgoth crushes his head some more]  

Scrotus: But! This rainbow...is not just like any other rainbow, it's… [gets interrupted by Korgoth ripping his skin off]

The production values, writing and direction for this show were great.  Diedrich Bader's gravelly voice is perfect as the titular character, bringing just the right amounts of world weariness, wit, menace and humor.  It's a madcap thrill ride where the viewer never knows what to expect- "They're riding giant pigeons?"

Despite critical acclaim and strong fan support, Cartoon Network reversed its decision to pick up Korgoth of Barbaria and canceled the show after only the pilot episode.  Apparently, it was too expensive to continue.

So, we can only imagine what might have been.  Still, any fan of Sword & Sorcery would do themselves a disservice if they didn't take a look at this fun and funny modern take on the genre.

RPG Game Play: Social Contracts

As the year draws to a close, this week, I wanted to talk about an important, but sometimes overlooked, part of any game: a Social Contract.

If you've got some good people to play with and a good game to play, your first instinct is probably want to just jump into it.  And, most times, there's no problem.  However, what happens when people have a misunderstanding or when someone starts acting in a way that others feel is inappropriate?

For example, what if someone's favorite character dies due to an unlucky roll?  Or, what if someone keeps showing up late to the game?

As insurance against these awkward or problematic moments, it's often a good idea to put a "social contract" in place, usually before play begins.  The Google defines "social contract" as

"an implicit agreement among the members of a society to cooperate for social benefits"

A role-playing group, like any other society, operates under certain mutually agreed upon rules.  For RPG groups, these rules cover both in character behavior (e.g., no PvP) and out of character behavior (e.g., no smoking or drinking).  People usually assume that everyone will use common sense (e.g., no cheating).  And yet, even reasonable people may differ over what seems, to them, as "common sense".  What happens when what's assumed to be mutually agreed upon is, in fact, not?

As you might imagine, it's often beneficial to make sure that everyone is on the same page in terms of expectations.  The degree to which a social contract needs to be explicit will vary from group to group.  It's not usually necessary to have a particularly high level of specificity, but it's often valuable to address areas that are likely to be contentious.

The easiest way to handle the handle is to let someone (typically the Game Master) set the rules for the group and to arbitrate situations.  This is the Old School method.

If all else fails, remember the old saw "no gaming is better than bad gaming". 

Gamebook Review: "Flight from the Dark" (1984)

A couple months ago, I discussed the seminal Choose Your Own Adventure (CYOA) series of gamebooks.  In the wake of CYOA's success and the concurrent success of tabletop role-playing (most notably Dungeons & Dragons), it is unsurprising that folks would start to blend the two, publishing gamebooks with light RPG mechanics.  Today, I wanted to look at the first entry of one of the best of these hybrids, "Flight from the Dark" by Joe Dever:

In "Flight from the Dark," the reader plays the titular protagonist of the Lone Wolf series who, at this point, is an initiate and the sole survivor of the Kai monastery following a successful surprise attack by their archenemies, the Darklords.  However, the Darklords have just gotten started and Lone Wolf must race against his enemies to reach the capital in time to warn the King of the impeding danger.

"Flight from the Dark" is the first book in the Lone Wolf series, which as of today has twenty-nine books.  This probably makes the Lone Wolf series the oldest continuous gamebook, as well as perhaps the longest continuous novel with a single protagonist.

Like other pieces of interactive fiction, the Lone Wolf books are written from a second-person point of view, in present tense, which immediately puts the reader into a roleplaying mindset.  In addition, unlike CYOA (which are purely narrative), the Lone Wolf series also features very simple RPG mechanics that are clearly influenced by Dungeons & Dragons, as noted by the author in the forward:

"While working in Los Angeles in 1977 [Joe Dever] discovered a then little-known game called ‘Dungeons & Dragons’. Although the game was in its infancy, Joe at once realised its huge potential and began designing his own role-playing games along similar conceptual lines. These first games were to form the basis of a fantasy world called Magnamund, which later became the setting for the Lone Wolf books."

There are two stats in Lone Wolf, Combat Skill and Hit Points... I mean "Endurance" Points:

Combat consists of comparing the opponents' Combat Skills, using a random number generator, and referencing the result on the appropriately named Combat Results Table.  Rinse and repeat until Lone Wolf or his foe(s) are dead, hopefully the latter.

One can also see on the Action Chart above that the reader must select five of the Kai Disciplines in the first book.  Not only does this provide customization and re-readability (i.e., a reader's play though can be different with each reading), but also a basis advancement, since the reader may add one additional Discipline after each of the first five books (the later books use a different but similar system).  This also provides incentive to read the books in the correct order.

In terms of structure, the Lone Wolf books use a set of narrative bottlenecks, with a series of branching paths between each bottleneck.  This structure works better with the light RPG mechanics than a purely narrative approach, since some paths may be more optimal for a particular PC than another one.

In also must be said that many of the books feature the excellent and distinctive artwork of Gary Chalk:

As a millennial gift, Messr Dever generously allowed Project Aon to publish the Lone Wolf books online for free!  So, there's no excuse not to read them.

RPG Design: Linear Fighters, Quadratic Wizards

This week, I'd like to take a look at another infamous design issue that haunts Dungeons & Dragons and similar games: Linear Fighters, Quadratic Wizards.

Linear Fighters, Quadratic Wizards refers to the fact that, in D&D, Fighters' skills and abilities improve at a largely linear rate, whereas Wizards improve much faster.  The reason for the latter is because Wizards' powers (as primarily encapsulated by their spells) increase simultaneously along multiple axes: not only to they get more spells but also the effectiveness of any given spell (e.g., damage output, range, etc.) tends to also increase as the Wizard levels up.

For example, let's take a look at a common Level 1 spell in AD&D:

Magic Missile (Evocation)

Level: 1     Components: V, S    Range: 6" + 1"/level     Casting Time: 1 segment    Duration: Special     Saving Throw: None    Area of Effect: One or more creatures in a 10 square foot area 

Explanation/Description: Use of the Magic Missile spell creates one or more magical missiles which dart forth from the magic-user's fingertip and unerringly strike their target. Each missile does 2 to 5 hit points (d4+1) of damage. If the magic-user has multiple missile capability, he or she can have them strike a single target creature or several creatures, as desired. For each level of experience of the magic-user, the range of his or her Magic Missile extends 1" beyond the 6" base range. For every 2 levels of experience, the magic-user gains an additional missile, i.e. 2 at 3rd level, 3 at 5th level, 4 at 7th level, etc.

So, a 5th level Magic-User casting Magic Missile has a tripled damage output and a range that's nearly doubled compared to a 1st level Magic-User, not to mention that he can cast Magic Missile four times per day compared to a 1st level Magic-User's one time.

Meanwhile, the AD&D Fighter has also improved over four levels (e.g., THAC0, weapon proficiencies, etc.) but not to the same extent (i.e., he isn't hitting three times as hard or making four attacks per round).  And difference between the two classes only becomes more pronounced over time as each spell continues to become more powerful and as the Wizard picks up more spell slots.

Furthermore, the spells themselves are unbalanced in the spell levels.  For example, Wish (a 9th level) is far more than nine times more powerful than any 1st level spell.

The net effect is that the Wizard will pass the Fighter in mid-level play and far outstrip the latter in high-level play.

Linear Fighters, Quadratic Wizards is an issue specific to Dungeons & Dragons because of the magic system, most notably because of casting speed and versatility of spells (i.e., D&D Wizards are quick casting generalists).  For example, if spells took hours to cast or if Wizards needed to choose between limited selections of spells, their power would be sharply scaled backward.

In addition, 3e exacerbated the issue by changing the assumed default play style: in older editions, it is assumed that once PCs reach name level (usually around 9th level), play will shift to domain management (i.e., the PCs will transition from itinerant adventurers to rulers).  Thus, the ever more powerful spells of magic-users will be balanced by the fighter's ever larger armies.


In terms of Sorcery & Steel, my rules set, I've taken a two fold approach to Linear Fighters, Quadratic Wizards:

• Remove gamist restrictions on magic items

Just like I removed the gamist restrictions on weapons and armor, all classes can use all magic items.  Thus, in actual play, it matters less that the Wizard can cast Lightning Bolt if the Fighter has a Wand of  Lightning Bolts.

• Turn wizards into glass cannons

By giving wizards a clear Achilles' heel, namely significantly less hit points than in standard AD&D, the two classes remain relatively balanced since the Wizard never outgrows a dependence upon the Fighter as a meat shield.


Finally, I would be remiss without including this notable (and hilarious) example of the trope:

Video Game Review: "Zork" (1977)

This week, I wanted to give a shout out to a legendary game that is both one of the pioneers of interactive fiction AND that also ranks as one of the greatest computer games ever!

You are likely to be eaten by a grue.

A seminal computer game, in Zork, the player takes a nameless but intrepid adventurer down into the twisty and confusing realm of the Great Underground Empire in search of loot.  Sound familiar?

Zork allows someone to singlehandedly play an Old School Dungeons & Dragons-esque text adventure.  Unsurprisingly, winning requires using your head and a bit of luck to overcome terrible monsters and difficult puzzles.  Roughly contemporaneous with the Choose Your Own Adventure  (CYOA) gamebooks, this game was also an amazing and groundbreaking piece of interactive fiction that created its own genre.  As with CYOA, Zork is written from a second-person point of view, in present tense, creating an inherent role-playing element.

Aside from the clear influence of Dungeons & Dragons, there's also hints of Tolkien (e.g., the elvish sword that glows when danger is nearby), Jack Vance and classical mythology.  While there were no graphics, Zork's minimal yet intelligent and witty prose brought the game to life with the power of the player's imagination, as with any good book (or tabletop RPG):

Zork (an MIT nonsense word that's slang for an unfinished program) was written between 1977 and 1979 by Tim Anderson, Marc Blank, Bruce Daniels, and Dave Lebling, members of the MIT Dynamic Modelling Group.  Inspired by Colossal Cave Adventure (1976), the first adventure computer game, and using the same conversational and humorous tone and dungeon crawling format, Zork was a significant step forward in terms of technology, story and gameplay.

The game proved hugely popular over ARPANET (the precursor to the Internet) and a professor encouraged the co-authors to offer the game to the general public.  The original program was so large that it was split into three games for the commercial release:  Zork I: The Great Underground Empire, Zork II: The Wizard of Frobozz, and Zork III: The Dungeon Master.

The Zork series went on to become some of the top selling computer games of the 1980s!

Without mincing words, Zork is quintessential Old School: a challenging game, there's no hand holding and the player needs to use their brains and to carefully read the text to spot clues.  One wrong move can produce an instadeath.  Old School!

In addition, the terrain is complex and there is no automapping function- back in the day, you had to use paper to figure out by hand where the heck you were!  Old School!

Moreover, just like an Old School RPG, there are no limits to what the player can attempt.  Experimentation is implicitly encouraged and is sometimes the best path to finding the solution.  Old School!

This game isn't for everyone but if you are looking for a classic dungeon crawler that will test your mind six ways to Sunday, "Zork" might be right for you.

RPG Design: Vancian Magic

This week, I wanted to discuss a hallmark of Dungeons & Dragons, Vancian Magic.  The phrase refers to the distinctive magic system created by the late Hugo Award winning author Jack Vance, first and most famously used in his Dying Earth series:

In Dying Earth, spells are complex formulae that must be memorized beforehand and that instantly produce a specific result.  Furthermore, a wizard is only able to memorize a limited number of formulae, and, once cast, the formulae is erased from the wizard's mind (which is why Vancian Magic is also called "fire and forget magic").  As illustrated in the story "Mazirian the Magician":

"They would be poignant corrosive spells, of such a nature that one would daunt the brain of an ordinary man and two render him mad. Mazirian, by dint of stringent exercise, could encompass four of the most formidable, or six of the lesser spells.

...

Mazirian made a selection from his books and with great effort forced five spells upon his brain

...

The mesmeric spell had been expended, and he had none other in his brain."

In effect, spells become limited resources, such as torches and arrows.

This system is unlike magic in many other fantasy works, where sorcery is often slow and ritualistic or innate or just unexplained.  However, Vancian Magic works well for Dungeons & Dragons, with its wargaming roots and resource management aspect, where Magic-Users often function as mobile artillery and spells serve as ammo.

Of course, Dungeons & Dragons doesn't adopt Vance-style wizards wholly, since the latter use swords (gasp!).

Personally, I like Vancian Magic in D&D: it's distinctive and flavorful, easy to understand, internally coherent and very old school (at least at lower levels) since it forces players to think about how to maximize limited spells, as well as how Magic-Users can contribute to the party outside of just wielding magic (e.g., torch bearer, interpreter, investigator, etc.).

Certainly, there are more flexible and equally creative RPG magic systems, such as Ars Magica's, and Vancian Magic certainly doesn't fit all genres or play styles.  However, Vancian Magic does fit D&D-style games and D&D-type campaigns.

There's also the mini-game of picking spells and guessing what might be useful.  This is a bug for some people, but a feature for me since it's also very old school.  Pick the wrong spells for the adventure and it might be time to roll a new character!

However, for my rules set, Sorcery & Steel, I decided to use spell points rather than Vancian Magic.  One reason for this was as a part of reducing demand on the GM's bandwidth.  Specifically, I've eliminated look up tables such as this:

Another reason for using spell points rather than Vancian Magic is because I wanted a magic system that was more internally balanced.  For example, in 1e AD&D, while Sleep and Push are both Level 1 spells, it is hard to argue that they are equally powerful.

At the beginning of this post, I said Vancian Magic is a hallmark of Dungeons & Dragons.  By "hallmark",  I mean that, IMHO, a rules set that doesn't use Vancian Magic is no longer in the orbit of D&D.

That's why, when I replaced Vancian Magic with spell points, I stopped referring to my project as AD&D house rules and, instead, as a new rules set.