RPG Design: Alignment (Part I)

This week, I wanted to take a look at another venerable RPG can of worms: Alignment.

While the definition of "Alignment" in role-playing games is by no means settled, it usually boils down to some flavor of "personal belief system" for the PCs.  As one might expect, attempting to inject morality into role-playing has been and continues to be controversial and hotly debated!  Furthermore, it can lead to confusion and divisive behavior and/or results at the game table.

Like many topics in role-playing games, the story of Alignment begins with Original Dungeons & Dragons (1974), which states:

"Character Alignment, Including Various Monsters and Creatures: Before the game begins it is not only necessary to select a role, but it is also necessary to determine what stance the character will take - Law, Netrality[sic], or Chaos."

Unsurprisingly, the creatures in the Fantasy Supplement to Chainmail (1971), the miniatures war-game that provided much inspiration to OD&D, were similarly divided into "Law," "Neutral," and "Chaos."  OD&D's chart of creatures' Alignments that mostly follows Chainmail's chart.  Thus, given OD&D's wargaming roots (as well as the first adventures being dungeon crawls), it's easy to see why the designers thought in terms of competing teams or sides.

However, by 1974, OD&D went beyond a simple "shirts v. skins" approach and co-opted ideas from Poul Anderson and Michael Moorcock about cosmic scale "teams" of  primeval forces of Law and Chaos in a perpetual struggle.  This shows up most concretely in those wacky Alignment Languages:

"Law, Chaos and Neutrality also have common languages spoken by each respectively."

Alignment Languages were meant to be secret languages for these "cosmic" teams.  So, all Lawful dudes everywhere speak the same secret language because Reasons.

Even Gygax later acknowledged that this was a bridge too far:

"As D&D was being quantified and qualified by the publication of the supplemental rules booklets. I decided that Thieves' cant should not be the only secret language. Thus alignment languages come into play, the rational [sic] being they were akin to Hebrew for Jewish and Latin for Roman Catholic persons.

I have since regretted the addition, as the non-cleric user would have only a limited vocabulary, and little cound [sic] be conveyed or understoon [sic] by the use of an alignment language between non-clerical users."

In any event, if you like the literary foundations, the OD&D version of Alignment is fine, but I suspect many people simply ignored this forced narrative conceit.  Moreover, while  morality is not expressly set forth in Chainmail's proto-Alignment system, a moral element is more strongly implied in OD&D than in Chainmail, since creatures like unicorns are Lawful and creatures like vampires are Chaotic and after elves were moved to Lawful.


When Gygax starts explicitly interjecting "objective morality" a couple years later and making Alignment more central to a D&D-esque fantasy setting, the concept really starts going off the rails.  In the February 1976 issue of Strategic Review, Gygax writes:

"Many questions continue to arise regarding what constitutes a “lawful” act, what sort of behavior is “chaotic”, what constituted an “evil” deed, and how certain behavior is “good”. There is considerable confusion in that most dungeon- masters construe the terms “chaotic” and “evil” to mean the same thing, just as they define “lawful” and “good” to mean the same. This is scarcely surprising considering the wording of the three original volumes of DUNGEONS & DRAGONS...In fact, had I the opportunity to do D&D over I would have made the whole business very much clearer by differentiating the four categories, and many chaotic creatures would be good, while many lawful creatures would be evil."

Eventually in the same article, Gygax sets forth a new five-fold alignment system:

This five-fold alignment system is adopted the next year in Holmes Basic D&D (1977):

Alignment is far more baked into the game system in Holmes Basic than OD&D.  For example, and here we find the first instance of the first instance of Know Alignment spells.

In addition, the stakes regarding Alignment are notably higher, since here we find the first instance of XP penalties for out of alignment gameplay in Holmes Basic.  Even in cases of honest misunderstanding or disagreement, the chance of problems, if you are playing the Rules As Written, have just increased notably.

So, for better or worse, Alignment is now a thing in D&D.  Are things about to get wonkier?  Stay tuned!

TV Review: "Berserk" (1997)

This week, I wanted to give a shout out to arguably the greatest Swords & Sorcery TV series of all time, "Berserk" (1997):

In this world, is the destiny of mankind controlled by some transcendental entity or law? Is it like the hand of God hovering above? At least it is true that man has no control; even over his own will.

And so begins this ripping yarn that masterfully combines an epic dark fantasy narrative, ridiculously awesome action and philosophical musings!  An adaptation of the best-selling manga with the same name, "Berserk" follows a young mercenary named Guts as he (literally) carves his way through a low fantasy world reminiscent of late medieval/early renaissance Europe.  This unfortunate place is plagued with constant warfare and endures a level of everyday violence and brutality that makes Westeros seem like Disneyland!

Confusingly, this anime starts with an episode in the manga's Black Swordsman arc then quickly shifts back to the manga's Golden Age arc, where Guts is recruited by the brilliant and charismatic leader of the Band of the Hawk mercenary group, Griffith.  The viewer follows the Band of the Hawk's rise to glory among various blood-soaked battlefields, while Griffith plays a devious and equally deadly game of political machinations.

In addition to enough blood and violence to trigger a moral panic, Beserk features an amazing soundtrack that, fittingly, highlights or underscores the narrative.  Furthermore, the narrative is filled with excellent character beats, such that even minor characters get some surprising depth.  This more than makes up for animation quality that is average, at best, for the time.

In the Golden Age arc, Guts and the Band of the Hawk face danger, betrayal and demonic shenangians at every turn.  Fortunately, Guts possesses effectively unlimited willpower, a zero [expletives] given attitude, and arguably the coolest sword of all time!  This sucker is so huge it makes a daiklave from Exalted look like a kid's toy!

Really, the only major flaw to "Berserk" (1997) is that it ends on an epic cliffhanger... which was addressed by the new series "Berserk" (2016) currently airing in Japan, that picks up immediately afterward!

RPG Design: The Cleric Class

Today, I wanted to give a shout out to perhaps the most poorly loved of the Core Four Classes of tabletop role-playing, the Cleric:

Although published along with the Fighting-Man and the Magic-User in Original Dungeons & Dragons (1974), the Cleric, unlike those two classes, did not have a clear antecedent in the Fantasy Supplement to the Chainmail miniatures wargame (1971).  And, unsurprisingly, there are no clear antecedents for the Cleric in Fantasy literature either.  Rather, this class began in Dave Arneson's Blackmoor campaign, where they filled several key roles in the party, most notably as a healer and as a counter to undead.

Despite being probably the most powerful class at lower and middle levels in older editions of Dungeons & Dragons, being something of a hybrid of the Fighting-Man and the Magic-User (reasonable melee combatant, decent caster plus the most generous XP table), there's often a reluctance by players to be "stuck" playing the party healer, since, in my experience, most players prefer to focus on their own character's exploits rather than being at the service of others (e.g., healbot).

Not helping the situation are the weapon restrictions that Gary Gygax added to the Cleric.  Since all weapons do the same damage in OD&D, these weapon restrictions are primarily in place to prevent Clerics from utilizing magic swords.  However, in later editions, it becomes a serious blow to the Cleric's general appeal.   These gamist restrictions are justified by some wildly inaccurate "history".

The Cleric's weapon restrictions in D&D are also defended in-game with some equally dubious "facts", namely that blunt weapons do not draw blood.  Now, if you whack someone with a baseball bat, chances are pretty good you'll start to see blood before too long.  Perhaps one might argue that "drawing blood" means cutting or piercing flesh, but that seems to me like a distinction without practical difference.

In any event, given the lack of clear antecedents, it is unsurprising that other rule sets take the general idea but focus on only part of the OD&D Cleric's remit, such as healing (e.g., White Mages from Final Fantasy) or religion (e.g., Runequest's deity specific approach).  Moreover, even D&D itself has moved away from the tropes it established, with newer editions shifting the Cleric's remit more toward leadership and by giving healing surges to everyone.

Another source of confusion is the Paladin (sub)class:

Like the Cleric, the Paladin is a heavily armed and armored holy warrior.  Unsurprisingly, the conceptual difference between the two is fuzzy.  Moreover, by having more in the asskicking department, it's hard not to argue that the Paladin stole a good bit of the Cleric's thunder.

So, for my rules set, Sorcery & Steel, I bring the Cleric back toward its Arnesonian roots and also blend in the best parts of the Paladin a single archetype: a soldier of faith who smites creatures of darkness and wields potent divine magic.

Gamebook Review: "The Cave of Time" (1979)

This week, I wanted to give a shout out to the seminal "The Cave of Time" by Edward Packard, as well as the entire Choose Your Own Adventure (CYOA) gamebook series:

The above book cover should be familiar to a generation of readers who were children and young adults in the 1980s, when CYOA reached the peak of its popularity.  Much like Original Dungeons & Dragons popularized tabletop role-playing, CYOA popularized interactive fiction a few years later, where the reader took on the role of the protagonist and made choices that determined the direction and outcome of the story.  For example:

You are hiking in Snake Canyon when you find yourself lost in the strange, dimly lit Cave of Time. Gradually you can make out two passageways. One curves downward to the right; the other leads upward to the left. It occurs to you that the one leading down may go to the past and the one leading up may go to the future. Which way will you choose?

If you take the left branch, turn to page 20. If you take the right branch, turn to page 61. If you walk outside the cave, turn to page 21. Be careful! In the Cave of Time you might meet up with a hungry Tyrannosaurus Rex, or be lured aboard an alien spaceship!

Not only are *YOU* the protagonist, but *YOU* direct the narrative!  This was mind-blowing stuff for kids!

"The Cave of Time" was among the first CYOA that I read and it's a still classic, evoking both mystery and a sense of adventure.  Although listed as #1, "The Cave of Time" was preceded by Messr Packard's "Sugarcane Island," published by Vermont Crossroads Press as the "Adventures of You" series in 1976, but it *IS* the first work of interactive fiction for wide release.  

Consequently, CYOA spawned a wave of imitators, most of which were not nearly as well written or as engaging to read.

I would also be quite remiss if I didn't mention the wonderful and evocative illustrations by Paul Granger:

Messr Granger's pictures lend the story, by turns, whimsy, gravity and terror.  Great stuff!

Related to the last, CYOA is, of course, notorious for instadeaths and "The Cave of Time" is no exception:

"The Cave of Time" can be quite harsh with its instadeaths, as they can come with no hint of your impeding doom.  While that may be true to life, this is an instance where I think the gamebook is better served by verisimilitude instead.

RPG Design: "Old School” RPGs?

I have thrown around the term "Old School" on this blog several times and thought it might be useful to explain how I personally define the term in reference to tabletop role-playing games.   

If you think about it, the term "Old School" is a reactionary one (git offa ma lawn, danggumit!) and, unsurprisingly, different people react to be different things and in different ways.  Moreover, in the role-playing game context, even things that were common "back in the day" weren't necessarily present at every gaming table.  So, if you ask a dozen people what "Old School tabletop role-playing games" means to them, you will likely get a dozen different answers.

That's all well and good.

For purposes of this blog, in the role-playing game context, "Old School" refers to a type of gameplay that was common in the 1970s and 1980s and which I still use today at my table.  Most notably:

• GM rulings are emphasized over the Rules As Written
• Player Skill is emphasized over Character Skill
• Combat as War is emphasized over Combat as Sport

Taking these one at a time:

• GM rulings are emphasized over the Rules As Written

When I write "GM rulings are emphasized over the Rules As Written," I don't necessarily mean a rules lite system or a game that allows the story to dominate play, rather than mechanics.  Rather, I mean that the GM serves as "referee" or "judge" (to resurrect a couple more traditional terms), to make fair and impartial decisions.

Sometimes the GM makes a judgment call when there is a gap or an ambiguity in the rules, as sometimes is the case with older editions of Dungeons & Dragons.  However, sometimes that also means he ignores or overrules the Rules As Written.

• Player Skill is emphasized over Character Skill

When I write "Player Skill," I mean a Player's outside the box thinking.  For example, in a recent session at my table, the party needed to identify a demon with powerful visual glamours that were undetectable.  However, they knew that demons are allergic to wrought iron, so they put on wrought iron rings and shook hands until they found someone who reacted abnormally and, thus, uncovered the demon.

However, in many newer games, I find that the emphasis is on what the character can do, particularly in systems with lengthy character generation.  For example, how I approach games like Pathfinder and Exalted is different (e.g., often my first instinct is to look at the character sheet to see what I have that might be applicable to a situation).

• Combat as War is emphasized over Combat as Sport

By "Combat as War" and "Combat as Sport," I am referring to terminology developed several years ago to refer to differing play styles.

In the former, there's an "anything goes" mentality and individual encounters are not necessarily balanced or "fair".  Rather, the GM presents a situation and the players decide what to do (combat is not a foregone conclusion).

In the latter, there are clear rules to encourage fair fights and an explicit goal for the GM is to present balanced encounters (combat is often a foregone conclusion).  Sometimes, this is expressly baked into the rules set (e.g., newer editions of D&Ds' Challenge Rating (CR) and Difficulty Class (DC)).

A (in)famous type of Combat as War scenario is Fantasy F*ckin' Vietnam:

[I]t was supposed to signify the dead-at-any-moment life of old school dungeoneering. The kind of play where you inched along the corridor, 10-foot pole in hand probing every foot of the floor, walls, and ceiling for traps. The kind of play where losing a limb prying open the lid of a chest was as quick as a death by an arrow from your flank. It was the gaming mirror of then still-fresh cultural memory of the stress, paranoia, and grittiness of the Vietnam War. 

Another notable difference between the play styles is Combat as Sport, with its emphasis on balance, reflects the tendency of newer games to shy away from character death.

The possibility of character death, however, is a necessary baked in assumption of Combat as War.  Indeed, this is an often overlooked an aspect of the play style (i.e., that war is dangerous, deadly and unpredictable).  Combat as War is not just about planning and developing asymmetric advantages to stack a fight in your favor.  Sometimes your best option is to run away or otherwise not fight at all (Of course, you have to have a GM that's not into railroading and willing to come up with new material on the fly).

Furthermore, there's an assumption in Old School play that bad things can and do happen to PCs.  By this, I mean that, while the GM shouldn't be out to get the PCs or otherwise antagonistic, the players aren't going to have their hands held and the dice will fall where they may.

The prototypical examples of "Old School" RPGs are, of course, older editions of Dungeons & Dragons:

In fact, for some people,  "Old School" = "older editions of Dungeons & Dragons" or "Old School" = "Old School Renaissance (OSR)".

However, personally, I take a more expansive view.  The reason that I lump games like Traveller and GURPS with older editions of D&D into "Old School" is that my play style basically the same between them.

YMMV, of course.

Literature Review: "The Doom that Came to Sarnath" (1920)

This week, in honor of H. P. Lovecraft's birthday on August 20th, I wanted to give a shout out to one of my favorite story stories by this preeminent practitioner of Weird Fiction, "The Doom that Came to Sarnath":

There is in the land of Mnar a vast still lake that is fed by no stream and out of which no stream flows. Ten thousand years ago there stood by its shore the mighty city of Sarnath, but Sarnath stands there no more.

With two sentences, Lovecraft quickly sets the mood for the piece: mythic, cryptic and bizarre.  A tale of murder, hubris and otherworldly vengeance follows.  Plus, it has space aliens, weird gods and dread prophecy.  What's not to like? 

An early work by Lovecraft, "The Doom that Came to Sarnath" is still a classic.  Influenced by one of Lovecraft's favorite authors, the great Lord Dunsany, this yarn is set in a fictional pre-historic Earth and is associated with Lovecraft's Dream Cycle stories. 

A wandering group of shepherds establish Sarnath "[n]ot far from the grey city of Ib" and take an immediate homicidal dislike to their neighbors, who "descended one night from the moon in a mist."  Some sacking and pillaging happens, combined with a big dose of ethnic cleaning, and the Sarnathites bring back the idol of the Bokrug, worshipped by the newly massacred beings of Ib, as a token of their conquest.

Ten centuries later, "[t]he wonder of the world and the pride of all mankind was Sarnath the magnificent."  The reigning superpower is at its height and about to celebrate "the feast of the thousandth year of the destroying of Ib. For a decade had it been talked of in the land of Mnar, and as it drew nigh there came to Sarnath on horses and camels and elephants men from Thraa, Ilarnek, and Kadatheron, and all the cities of Mnar and the lands beyond."

As for what happens next, let's just say payback's a bitch.

You can find the full text of the story here.  Alternately, here is a wonderful reading of the same by Nick Gisburne:

RPG Design: Player Narrative Fiat

In the 42 years since TSR published Original Dungeons & Dragons, tabletop role-playing games have seen a number of different design trends, as discussed here by John Kim.  A popular mechanic nowadays that my rules set, Sorcery & Steel, has decided not to adopt is Player Narrative Fiat.


By "Player Narrative Fiat", I mean that game resolution is not determined by one or more of the following:

• The rules,
• GM rulings,
• A randomizer (e.g., dice), and/or
• Character skills/abilities.

Positive examples of Player Narrative Fiat run the gamut from Fate Points (i.e., player narrative currency to alter the outcome of a randomizer) to full blown GM-less story games where a PC doesn't die unless the player chooses so, such as the well regarded Fiasco (2009):

So, am I saying that Player Narrative Fiat is bad?

Not at all!  However, personally, I think it flies in the face of the Old School "feel".

One might then ask, "What about close cousins, such as Force Points in d6 Star Wars?"

The distinction I draw between Force Points and Fate Points (which are mechanically identical), is that Force Points flow from the character (yes, that's a Star Wars joke) rather than the player, thus falling under the fourth bullet point above.  Similarly, I think that Willpower in the Storyteller System or a Wish spell in Old School D&D are fine.

Thus, as you might expect, my rules set, Sorcery & Steel, utilizes no Player Narrative Fiat.  In other words, while my rules set does contain some modern flourishes, the Dice Gods are still to be respected.