Rules of Play

This post is long overdue.

I started this blog as a place to articulate my preferences as a pen-and-paper RPG referee. Specifically, I needed to force myself to organize my thoughts and commit them to "paper." I realize now that I was embarking on a common step that so many referees have taken before me: creating my own RPG system (or hack or homebrew or whatever you want to call it).

Players following the rules during a game

Over the course of the fall, I put my rules through their paces, using a group of players who primarily play 5th Edition as my guinea pigs. They were good sports in humoring me, and it helped that we played through a pretty interesting adventure location (The Tomb of Black Sand).

My rules started with Knave as a base and grew from there. They revolve around the core principle that the target number for any contested roll equals 10 plus the opposition's Hit Dice or Level. This feature made creating monsters on the fly incredibly easy, as I used one number to derive their relevant stats and focused more of my time on creating what made them unique.

Here are some of the other features of my rules:

• Quick and easy character generation
• Character abilities based on in-game fiction (no class archetypes or skills)
• Attribute bonuses only (no separate attribute scores)
• Six classic attributes, each with mechanical relevance
• Death and dismemberment rules
• Resting rules based around "making camp"
• Slot-based inventory system
• Character advancement based on carousing
• Experience points as a meta-currency

I captured my thoughts about many of these features in various blog entries. The act of blogging helped to crystallize many of my feelings about how I liked to play RPGs, and I created this set of rules to make it easy to play in alignment with those preferences.

So, here are two booklets that provide everything you need to play through a classic adventure from a player's perspective. I started a third booklet aimed at the referee, but I put it on the shelf after it grew too wordy. Ideally, the third booklet would contain the referee's tools: mechanisms for granting bonuses like advantage or boon dice, tips for creating or adapting monsters, and a menu of potential abilities to inspire referees as they grant rewards to player characters.

Booklet I - Creating a Character

Booklet II - Going on an Adventure

One caveat about this set of rules: the system puts a lot of the burden on the referee. They have to make rulings on the fly, translate monsters, and hand-craft abilities for their player characters. Getting it right takes a lot of trial and error and accumulated knowledge. Whether the referee uses this system or another to learn doesn't matter.

If I took these rules a step further, I would most likely remove Hit Points as discussed in my post Attribute Scores as Hit Points. The way that Into the Odd reduces combat turns to a single roll inspires me, but I would rather roll to hit than roll for damage. However, the ripple effect of that change would change so much more that the resulting rules would be an entirely different system.

Attributes as Skill Variations

Consider this another entry into what now constitutes a series of posts on merging game systems together with the intent of minimizing our pen-and-paper RPG rules.

5th Edition marries skills to related attributes. For example, you make a Dexterity check if you want to test your ability to be stealthy. And, if you have skill in stealth, you get to add your current proficiency bonus. As a shorthand, people will say "make a Stealth check," but there is no such thing.

In my current adventure, I strip out skills altogether. You don't have stealth skills or nature skills. However, you can note things you're trained in: athletics, smithing, cooking, hunting, etc. Think of these as actual trades that you could be trained to do. If you make an ability check that involves your training, you get to add your proficiency bonus. 

A thief in the act of using espionage skills

Where I really differentiate this from 5e, though, is that this training isn't tied to any particular attribute. Take this as an example:

Let's say you're a trained athlete. Not just naturally gifted, but you have participated in a sport with rules and structure.

Certainly you'll add your proficiency to Strength and Dexterity checks related to athletic attempts - running, jumping, climbing, etc. It doesn't matter if you're not particularly strong (say, a +0 STR bonus). Maybe you're a runner. But, in my mind, you're still an athlete, trained to use their physical gifts. So, I'd still grant you a proficiency bonus in an attempt to lift a boulder.

Taking it a step further, let's say you're kind of a dullard (-1 INT bonus). But, someone asks you who won the big yearly race in your city a decade ago. If you're a trained athlete who has spent years in that social circle, you're more likely to know that answer than someone who doesn't live that lifestyle. So, in 5e terms, I'd allow a proficient Intelligence (Athletics) check to recall that information.

NOTE: I very rarely use lore checks in my games. But, if I did, I'd handle them like this.

Another example could be training in woodcraft. You learned from a master outdoorsman how to survive apart from civilization. 

Can you find food to gather? Make a proficient Wisdom check. Can you calm this wild boar? Make a proficient Charisma check. Can you climb a tree? Make a proficient Strength check. If you can find the right handholds and, through experience, make the task easier, it matters less how strong you are (though your Strength score still plays a role).

The key here is that your training enhances more than one type of check. It could enhance any related check, even if you aren't particularly gifted at that ability.

Playing without Attribute Scores

What if we took another step towards minimizing rules, but in an entirely different direction than my previous post. What if we removed attribute scores altogether?

First, let's consider what we typically use these scores for during a pen-and-paper RPG. 

• Ability checks
• Attack rolls
• Damage bonus
• Armor bonus
• Initiative rolls
• NPC reactions and loyalty
• HP bonus

While that's a significant list, think about a monster's stat block, especially in OD&D and its retroclones. As a GM, you didn't require attribute scores to run them in combat. So, let's assume that we could get by without attribute scores for the combat-adjacent entries above.

Essentially, that leaves ability checks and NPC reactions and loyalty. Let's focus on the more important of those two, the ability check.

Ability checks provide the GM with a tool to model most situations. Can you lift that rock? Make a Strength check. Can you find the path after getting lost? Make a Wisdom check.

However, if you start adding different skills into the mix, and adding skill modifiers or proficiency bonuses alongside ability modifiers ... then the system becomes less of an abstract tool to model different situations and more of a burden on your memory and cognitive load during play.

If you clearly define the scope of your adventure beforehand, you can forego attribute scores altogether and only define a handful of skill scores. And, your skills can change from one campaign to the next if you move from a dungeon-crawl to an urban point-crawl.

A forlorn adventurer contemplating the loss of attribute scores

Let's take a hypothetical adventure where the party goes from a town, through the woods to the adventure site, delves the dungeon, and then travels back again. What skills might they need?

• Bushcraft
• Climb & Jump (Acrobatics)
• Lift & Open (Athletics)
• Search
• Stealth
• Tinker (Pick Locks)

From here, I will use the concept of Specialist skills from Lamentations of the Flame Princess as the foundation for my entire skill system. Everyone starts with a 1-in-6 chance to do anything that requires a roll. Scale a wall without rope? 1-in-6. Bash open a stuck door on the first try? 1-in-6.

But, as a PC levels up, they can spend points to increase those skills chances from 1 to 2, 3, up to a 6-in-6 chance. In Lamentations, only the Specialist can increase skill. I suggest letting all characters do so, and expanding the skill list to also include other aspects of your character that you could increase your ranks in:

• Melee Attack Bonus
• Ranged Attack Bonus
• Initiative
• Luck
• Dodge (add to AC)
• Hit Die (increase die ranks)
• Hit Points (increase number of hit die)

Why stop there? The final piece of the puzzle is to use this system for your saving throws as well. You could choose to go with the classic Paralysis - Poison - Breath - Device - Magic or maybe just Fortitude - Reflex - Will. Regardless, these start at 1-in-6 as well. The dragon breathes fire upon you? You have a 1-in-6 chance to dodge it unless you start increasing your save ranks.

To sum things up:

• Every common character trait from pen-and-paper RPGs is an ability with 6 ranks
• PCs usually start with 1 rank (meaning, a 1-in-6 chance to do the thing, or a +1 attack bonus, or 1 hit die)
• PCs can spend points to increase ranks when they level up

Attribute Scores as Hit Points

After reading this post on the blog Aboleth Overlords, I started musing about how I could condense the rules I use. I have a tendency to strive for minimalism regardless, as I prefer the perceived elegance of minimalist rules. But sometimes, in practice my drive for minimalism can suck the soul out of a game, and that isn't always for the best. Imagine a "minimalist" Dungeon Crawl Classics - that's an oxymoron. So, I have to tread lightly.

Keeping that in mind, I do have on particular idea percolating in the back of my thoughts. What if I removed Hit Points?

It isn't a novel idea - the Cypher System does it, as does the fantasy pen-and-paper RPG Forbidden Lands. I'm certain other examples exist as well. Here's a take that also removes damage rolls.

My current adventure uses 5th Edition style attack rolls: roll a d20 and add your bonuses to beat their Armor Class. I'd keep that.

My attribute scores only exist as bonuses: -3 to +3. That means attacks will deal damage directly to those bonuses. Normal attacks would reduce your score by 1. Heavy attacks (two-handed weapons) would reduce your score by 2. Certain monster attacks could be even more deadly.

When you take damage when you're already at -3, you accrue points of Exhaustion or some other condition equal to the damage taken. If your inventory fills up with those conditions, you die.

(Note: you could also handle this without a slot-based inventory system. I'd simplify things and say that, if you ever accrue the same condition twice (effectively dropping to -5 in that attribute), you fall unconscious).

A man preparing to lose some attribute bonuses

So, what attributes do attacks damage? Brute force attacks hurt your Strength. Precision attacks hurt your Dexterity. Psychic attacks hurt your Intelligence. Eldritch abilities go after your Wisdom. Divine strikes attack your Charisma. Magic damage can run the gamut.

Some attributes do step on the toes of others. Do divine strikes attack Wisdom or Charisma? Does a crack shot from a bowman hurt your Dexterity or Strength? And what about Constitution? Is it your last line of defense? Does it just control your item slots (aka, your hit points)?

Because of this, I would likely seek to condense my attribute list if I implemented this hack. Something like Strength, Dexterity, Willpower (or, Fortitude, Reflex, Will).

Wear and Tear

Before Elrond could reforge Aragorn's famed sword Andúril, it had to break during combat. Yet, most TTRPGs don't model wear and tear on gear at all, unless the party comes under attack by a rust monster or something similar and the rules explicitly prescribe it.

Most don't bother with it because they don't want to keep track of numerous modifiers and conditions on their gear. But, like with most things in RPGs, you don't need to make it realistic. You don't have to tell me how different weapons handle differently when damaged. Players just need something to remind them that their precious stuff might break.

Use notches to represent this wear and tear. I lifted this idea from old articles over at Last Gasp Grimoire and Necropraxis, but I heavily simplified the mechanical effects. A notch always equals a -1 modifier, regardless of whether it's on a battle axe, a sword, or plate mail.

If your sword suffers a second notch, it breaks. If your armor suffers enough notches to reduce its effect to +0, it sunders. That means there isn't too much tracking.

Two knights trying to sunder their opponent's armor

How does your gear suffer a notch? When you critically fail when using your weapon, or you opponent critically succeeds in smashing your armor. Natural 1s and natural 20s. Simple. It happens frequently enough to come up, but having your sword break during battle would be pretty rare (would require two critical failures).

That's about it. You can extend this to other gear as well, though I'd probably just have a rope or pole break on a critical failure, instead of having it accrue notches.

I did add some rules about how to fix notches - specifically, anyone proficient with a whetstone can hone notches out around a campfire. Armor and shattered swords require a full smithy, though.

Side-Based Initiative

I resisted the concept of side-based initiative, or the approach that you roll initiative for each side instead of each individual participant, for too long.

Yes, the approach does reduce the cognitive load of managing individual turns during combat, as you'd expect. But, in practice, I found that using side-based initiative improved the flow of combat altogether. Players are all invested simultaneously instead of taking their turn and tuning out, which has resulted in combat that feels more immediate and maintains consistent pacing from beginning to end.

An adventurer not waiting for the monsters to take their turn (art by William McAusland)

I make one concession to the tradition of rolling initiative. When one side makes its move, I ask the players to make an opposed Dexterity check. They are trying to exceed 10 + the HD of the opposing leader. Those who do get to act first.

Once they do, turns alternate from that point on. So, the PCs who succeed take a turn, then the monsters take a turn, then all PCs take a turn, and so on.

I have used this hack during several combat encounters in my current adventure so far and I have been very pleased with the results. 

Gaining Experience

I removed the concept of "experience points" from of my current game. To advance, PCs must go on an adventure, return to town for a full rest, and waste coins proclaiming their deeds. This basically amounts to "xp for gold" without bothering with the mechanics of exchanging one for the other. So far, I like it.

But, at the same time, I have also been theorizing how I might include several similar mechanics that could combine to form some sort of mutated XP system. The mechanics are:

Hero Coins (ICRPG) / Inspiration (5e) / Bennies (Savage Worlds)

A form of currency that players can spend to re-roll dice. Pretty simple. Usually awarded for "good roleplaying," whatever that means.

Experience Points for Failing (Dungeon World)

The concept that you gain experience through your failures, trial and error, etc. Dungeon World grants this XP for any roll that isn't a partial or complete success (6 or less on  2d6 roll). I would either map it to critical failures or rolling 6 or less on any d20 roll (which aligns nicely to my d20 reaction roll results).

GM Intrusions (Cypher System)

A mechanic that gives the referee permission to introduce a complication while awarding the players with additional XP. I have the least experience using this, but I like the Alexandrian's take on how this mechanic can help to embrace the "rulings not rules" style of play.

Adventurers captured in mid-experience (art by Matt Morrow)

Unifying these concepts together yields an XP system that looks something like this:

PCs gain experience points in three ways:

• Show Up: Every PC receives 1 XP to start a session.

• Learn from Your Mistakes: A PC receives 1 XP when they critically fail.

• Take Risks: A PC receives 2 XP when they accept an Intrusion.

Once earned, PCs can spend experience points to:

• Re-roll an ability check or save

• Refuse an Intrusion

• Advance to their Next Level

During character advancement, PCs trade in all of their experience points. They must have experience points equal to at least double their new Level.

That isn't too cumbersome of an addition, at first glance. The caveat that players lose all XP when leveling up no matter how many they have provides incentive to spend some as opposed to hoarding them all for later use.

I might introduce this during my next adventure.

Different Kinds of Rest

As covered in my previous post on "the one rule," holding players to strict resting rules drastically improves the dungeon crawling (or hex crawling or point crawling) experience. So, it's worth diving into more depth on my current rest procedures.

Games tend to break rests down into two types: the breather (a short rest) or the full recovery (a long rest). With those options, however, why would a party ever go through the rigmarole of setting up camp if they can plop down for 10-60 minutes right outside the dungeon entrance, munch on a ration, and regain their hit points? For flavor?

A person pondering all of the fun things one can do around a campfire

My resting rules mechanize the benefits that come with setting up a campsite and building a campfire. They currently look like this:

Resting: PCs can spend at least one hour resting. If they make it through uninterrupted, they may expend resources to roll Hit Dice and regain Hit Points. They must expend a resource such as rations, bandages, or medicine for every Hit Dice rolled. PCs can only expend each type of resource once per rest.

For every resource expended, the character rolls their Hit Dice, then adds their Constitution score and regains that many Hit Points.

Sleep: PCs must spend a wilderness turn sleeping every day. If they do not, they must make a Constitution check trying to exceed 10 + the number of days without sleep. If they fail, they suffer a point of Exhaustion.

Exhaustion: Adverse conditions, such as going without food, water, sleep, or protection from the elements cause a PC to accrue Exhaustion. Each instance of Exhaustion takes up one item slot and imposes a cumulative -1 penalty to all checks and saves.

If you accrue more Exhaustion than your level, you cannot move and must make camp.

Campfire: PCs gain extra benefits for taking their rest around a campfire. Cooking and eating fresh food instead of rations allows PCs to spend another Hit Dice (without expending additional resources). Singing and making merry grants yet another Hit Dice but requires an instrument and may increase your chance of a random encounter.

Rest spent around a campfire also removes one instance of Exhaustion.

Full Rest: One week spent in modest lodging in a safe haven returns a PC to maximum Hit Points, restores all spent Hit Dice, and removes all Exhaustion. Living in luxury may confer additional temporary HP, while squalid conditions may not fully restore the PC.

One thing is missing: PCs all have some sort of "special" ability that they can only use during a rest taken around a campfire. A wizard can re-learn a forgotten spell, a fighter can repair weapons, and so on. This provides even further incentive for players to choose the option of making camp. 

Earning Rewards

The common implementation of character advancement, or "leveling up," in most tabletop RPGs drove me to start hacking my RPG experience in the first place. Specifically, the idea of character optimization and "builds." Chris McDowall articulates the idea of how "external engagement" can interfere with the enjoyment of the game more eloquently than I would in his blog Bastionland.

The old school D&D chassis - something like B/X - looks boring on the surface to the modern player. They will wonder where they can find all of their cool abilities. They don't exist in the rules because they depend on the fiction that arises during play. Characters will earn them during play by acquiring magic items, making deals with extraplanar beings, or stealing from a powerful wizard.

However, the old school rule sets could be more explicit in this expectation. My hacked rules leverage the fact that players anticipate leveling up. The modern gamer knows that leveling up is a good thing; that they'll get cool stuff. But, it generalizes the specifics of the advancement process. 

It doesn't distinguish between classes. A character can become anything they want depending on how they adventure and where they spend their money. It doesn't give the player a list of abilities, skills, or feats to choose from. There aren't rules for multiclassing or tables that spell out when you get this and that cool thing.

I embrace the act of discovery as the core feature of my games. Players know they're going to level up, but they don't know exactly how. I hope that curiosity will drive them in a way that realizing a character build would not: by incentivizing them while simultaneously drawing them into the fiction.

A wizard who has leveled up one too many times (art by Erol Otus)

Here are my current rules for character advancement:

1 - Your character must complete an adventure: steal from a tomb. Fight a monster. Discover a secret. Solve a mystery.

2 - When your character returns to town, they choose how they will share the tale of their exploits: carousing. An exclusive party. A lecture at the wizard school. A confession to the priest.

3 - Choose how much to spend during your retelling, and how you'll spend it: pints for the whole bar. Colorful decorations for the party. An offering to the church. 

4 - Once they tell their tales, they make a CHA check. Spending more grants them advantage. Spending little imposes disadvantage. Good results yield some sort of minor boon. Average results uncover a rumor. Bad results cause a complication.

5 - Regardless of the result of the check, when they wake up the next day, characters roll additional HP and gain Hit Dice.

But wait ... "what about my abilities?" you cry. They're earned. In my hack, I list a lot of the best ideas that I've had or seen in the past to inspire the referee. But, the exact specifications of the reward should depend on what happened during the previous adventure.

For example, last week my players advanced to Level 2. During their Level 1 adventure, one of them miscast a spell and ended up promising babies to a demon prince. So, during his downtime in town, a minor fiend offered its services as a familiar, stating that it did so because the spellcaster performed a great service for his demon lord.

The players discover their abilities during play, and those abilities arise out of the fiction. So far, I like where this approach is taking my game.

Casting Spells

Last night I kicked off a mini-campaign that will employ a simplified, hacked, and house-ruled magic system. The action only saw one spell cast, but it was memorable. The caster completely botched it and suffered a nasty spell complication.

But the complication was the icing on the top. The real fun came with the uncertainty inherent in the magic system and casting mechanics, which revolve around a d20 roll-to-cast instead of relying on spell points or spell slots. The spell being cast wasn't written in the rules and so it had a real air of mystery and sorcery. I couldn't be happier with the system's first test.

A sorcerer who has suffered from numerous spell catastrophes (art by Russ Nicholson)

Spellcasting works like this:

• Spellcasters specialize in certain types of spells: schools, circles, domains, whatever. They are proficient in casting those spells. They can cast other spells, but not as well.

• During every full rest (a rest spent in a safe haven), a caster can memorize a number of spells equal to their level.

• When they wish to cast a spell, they roll a d20 and add their INT bonus (and caster level / 2 if it's from their favored school), trying to exceed 10 plus the level of the spell.

• If they succeed, they cast the spell and remember the steps to cast it again.
• If they fail, they still cast the spell, but forget how to cast it again.
• A natural 1 results in bad news: everything goes bottoms up. The casting fails miserably and the caster suffers a catastrophe.

• If the spell requires an attack or contested roll, use the result of the d20 roll as the attack roll.

That's pretty much it. I'm using the magnificently zany supplement Wonder & Wickedness as the source of my sorcery schools, spell catastrophes, and several spells. The casting system itself draws inspiration from Dungeon Crawl Classics and Index Card RPG, for those of you interested in my influences.

One tweak I may consider once the players become more familiar: a less binary set of results for the casting check, based on my d20 reaction table. Something like:

< 2 Catastrophe! The spell fails, it's lost from memory, and the caster suffers a magical mishap.

2 - 6 Casting fizzles ... the spell fails and it's lost from memory.

7 - Target Lost focus ... the spell actuates but it's lost from memory.

> Target Textbook casting. The spell actuates and the caster can recall the incantation to cast it again.

Natural 1s always count as a catastrophe result, regardless of modifiers.

Discovering New Worlds

On vacation in New England and inspired by the wonderfully creative blog Signs in the Wilderness, I created a set of random tables for rolling up a segment of New World coastline.

Roll a d12 and then a d6 as many times as you want (probably 3-5) to generate the location of a colony on distant shores.

A ship spotting a randomly generated coast

1 The sea lies to the …

1 South

2 Southeast

3 Southwest

4 West

5 East

6 Roll again

2 Just offshore you’ll find ...

1 A single large island

2 A long cape

3 Dangerous small rocky islands

4 A deep, cold ocean trench

5 A stretch of tidal flats

6 Barrier islands

3 The coastline is dominated by …

1 Numerous inlets and rocky bays

2 Coastal cliffs

3 A large river delta

4 Tidal lowlands

5 Long sandy beaches

6 Protected harbors

4 The lands along the coast are …

1 Heavily forested

2 Mountainous or rocky

3 Disease-ridden and swampy

4 Dotted with rolling hills

5 Modified by civilization

6 Marked by signs of a disaster

5 Most of the population lives ...

1 As subsistence farmers

2 In the remnants of a lost colony

3 In a powerful metropolis

4 As nomadic hunter-gatherers

5 In hiding from dangers in the wilderness

6 Among ruins of an ancient civilization

6 The dominant culture of the area is made of …

1 Friendly colonists

2 Friendly natives

3 Opportunistic traders or missionaries

4 A diverse mix of indigenous folk and colonists

5 Colonial rivals

6 Hostile natives

7 This land is named for …

1 Magic phenomena

2 An indiginous settlement

3 The dominant water feature

4 The major flora or fauna of the area

5 The dominant terrain

6 A historical or religious figure

8 The climate tends to be …

1 Cool but sunny

2 Hot and humid

3 Temperate

4 Rainy or cloudy

5 Dry with a wet season

6 Harsh and unforgiving

9 The best source of freshwater is …

1 A navigable river

2 A series of freshwater lakes

3 Cold natural springs

4 A large lake

5 Runoff streams

6 Rain

10 Food comes from …

1 Plentiful wild game

2 The sea

3 Local fruit or nut trees

4 Indigenous cultivation

5 Invasive crops from the Old Lands

6 Further inland

11 The people are experiencing …

1 An armed conflict

2 Mysterious disappearances

3 Famine or drought

4 Gluttony and moral decay

5 Social revolution

6 Lasting prosperity

12 The people most recently fought …

1 Each other or former allies

2 A nearby indigenous settlement during raids

3 A colonial expeditionary force

4 A large band of native settlements

5 A magically summoned army

6 Boredom. Peace reigns.

Chainmail Difficulty

I have continued to let my thoughts on ability check / saving throw difficulty simmer since my previous post. I've thought all of my thoughts on the subject, for now at least. Here is my take:

• Unify saves and checks around the 6 ability scores.
• Use standard target numbers. I don't mean they never change, but a default value always exists.
• Use the to hit value of chain mail armor as your default target number. For me, that's 15. Why 15?
• The cool answer: because original D&D descended from the game Chainmail, so it felt fated to be.
• The real answer: because that is the first number at which you receive favorable results in my d20 reaction roll table.
• Add a standard bonus equal to level/2 to proficient checks and attacks as well as all saves.
• Treat checks more as reaction rolls than pass / fail. 15+ gets you an unequivocal success, but 7-14 might get you varying degrees of partial success or complication.
• Saves are more black and white, pass / fail. Something bad is about to happen to you, either you avoid it or you don't.
• Always add the standard bonus to saves. Their ability bonuses will differentiate different PCs, but treat them all as proficient at reacting to danger.

A die showing a number you'll never see when you need it

And, that's that. This system results in about the same chances of success as old school saving throws without requiring a reference table, differentiates PCs slightly based on their starting ability bonuses, and stays fairly familiar to the modern gamer.

Unifying Level-Based Bonuses

I've put a lot more thought into the topic of my previous post on setting difficulty. I'm not so sure that the best answer for my table is to lower the starting difficulty.

Instead, I should keep the difficulty higher, but make it increasingly easier to accomplish tasks and feats in which you're trained. The great game Knave accomplishes this by allowing three ability score increases every level, but this approach rubs me the wrong way:

• You roll to increase your scores. This randomness makes the score increases feel detached from the fictional experience that drove the increase.

• You increase your attributes. You can go from the least nimble human adventurer to the most nimble just by gaining experience. Again, it creates a disconnect when I try to envision the fictional character. How did my innate attributes change so much?

• You tend to pick which ability scores to roll based on mechanical benefits. For instance, increasing your Constitution is a priority because it increases how much you can carry (very important in a classless, inventory-driven system!).

Here, 5th Edition might offer a possible solution: a proficiency bonus. Keep your initial attribute scores the same, but grant an increasing bonus for any action in which you're proficient: swinging a sword for a fighter, casting a spell for a mage, picking a pocket for a thief.

An adventurer with proficient feet (art from AD&D rulebook)

Set your proficiency bonus at half of your character level, rounded up. This keeps you roughly in line with old school attack bonuses and saving throws.

At least until 9th Level. After that I stopped mathing because I don't need to waste effort on something that'll never get used!

For Every Action ...

Basic Fantasy RPG does a good job translating many old-school mechanics into a standardized d20 system that modern role-players tend to find more intuitive. Yet, there are some rolls it keeps as 2d6 like reaction and morale.

A fisherman who rolled well when meeting giant frogs (art by Matt Ray)

However, adding standardized ability bonuses to a 2d6 reaction roll weights the impact of the ability too heavily. Old-school games tend to cap the impact of Charisma on a reaction roll at +2. BFRPG maxes out at +3. 5th Edition takes you to +4 and possibly beyond.

I like reaction rolls but my current games use the 5th Edition rules at their core, so I took Knave's reaction roll table and pasted it on a d20 scale so that PCs could apply their Charisma bonus.

d20 Roll	% Chance	Outcome	% Chance	2d6 Roll
1	5%	Hostile	3%	2
2 - 6	25%	Unfriendly	25%	3 - 5
7 - 14	40%	Unsure	44%	6 - 8
15 - 19	25%	Talkative	25%	9 - 11
20	5%	Helpful	3%	12

Setting Difficulty

Every scene in a game of Index Card RPG has a built-in target number (known as the difficulty class in 5th Edition). The rule book suggests 10-12 as the baseline difficulty (it's a d20 roll over system), but the mechanic has the referee increasing or decreasing the difficulty as the environment changes. 

I like how this system makes the number you have to beat obvious, but also allows for situational differences. ICRPG even has some monsters that increase the target when they appear, which signifies how terrible that monster is to behold. It's a cool concept.

ICRPG's treatment of difficulty differs greatly from other systems I've experimented with lately. Namely, systems inspired by "old school" role-playing. 

Many of these systems start 1st Level characters out with something like a 30% chance to succeed at any given check. And, in some of them, the percentages don't get that much better even if your character manages to level up a few times.

I get it. These systems mean to encourage players to not make rolls. Find some creative way to overcome an obstacle so that you don't have to risk a dice roll. And I do appreciate that approach.

As a player, though, I also like to see my efforts rewarded with improved chances - rolling with advantage, getting a bonus, or decreasing my risk. Those mechanical elements help me to see that my creativity made a difference. Then, I get to roll the dice, the physical act of which is a stand in for my character taking their action.

Role players preparing to kill their characters (art by Simo Gomez)

Some players want to roll the dice. When my players play a game designed to discourage dice rolls, they're paralyzed. They want to do something so that they can roll dice but they rightly fear doing so will just end poorly.

If you find this happening, start the difficulty at 50% for the average ability score.

So, in d20 systems where the average ability score equals 10 with a modifier of +0, this means rolling over a 10 (so, in 5th Edition terms, a DC of 11).

Then, toss in a little ICRPG if desired. When you descend into the unknown depths, full of darkness and tentacles, maybe you have to beat a 12. Maybe a certain monster cranks that up to 13. I also saw an ICRPG house rule once that an additional lit torch reduces the target number by 1, which is a fun incentive to light more than one.

Roll Your Own

I like when the players make the rolls. Knave, the rules-light system by Ben Milton, gives PCs an "armor bonus" so that they can roll armor against a monster's static value. It's quick to grok but doesn't sacrifice anything from a "normal" attack roll.

What if players rolled their own checks for random encounters, particularly during wilderness travel? It would help them to conceptualize the passage of time during wilderness turns and it would also directly reveal the consequences of spending more time: risking more checks.

The referee does give up the power to discretely adjust the encounter chance on the fly, but in my games it would not be a problem to tell the players that their normal 1-in-6 chance is a 2-in-6 because of the amount of noise they've been making. In fact, it's not even a negative. Again, it provides the players with more information on which to base their decisions.

Adventurers encounter a wandering furry (art by David Trampier)

My current travel rules include an encounter check on every wilderness turn made by the players, who take turns around the table. They roll a d20, and lower results equate to worse outcomes.

1-3 wandering monster

4-12 travel challenge

13-16 descriptive encounter

17-18 evidence of monster

19-20 discovery

I'm toying with the idea of having them add their WIS bonus as long as they're not traveling in darkness or at a fast pace. It might mean that certain characters would very rarely roll wandering monsters, but since they must alternate, in the long run it should balance out with characters who have lower WIS scores.

Unless they're all clerics, I guess. Guided by the holy light?

Spending Downtime

Last night I played a 1-on-1 session with the referee in preparation of restarting a campaign. He tried his hand at a less scripted session and it went well. We came away with a few fun new NPC hirelings that he rolled on the spot (two of whom died, but c'est la vie).

We also tried to generate some random content by rolling on downtime tables for research found in one of the 5th Edition supplements. The procedure called for the player to roll an INT check to determine if they found 0, 1, 2, or 3 leads. Then, the player rolled for a 1-in-10 chance to experience a complication. If they did, they would roll a d6 on a complications table.

Successful magical research (art from Herrmann's Book of Magic)

What a waste. The up front portion of the downtime activity - rolling to discover some lore - is as uninspired as it comes. No choice involved, just roll and hope for a high number to learn.

I wanted to roll on the complications table, but as written I was so unlikely to do so. It held a few interesting, emergent outcomes. This whole mechanic should have presented a trade-off or choice from the start. You could do that by including the complications roll in the INT check.

Roll the d20 and the d6 simultaneously. If you succeed, you discover a relevant lead. If you fail, you discover an unrelated rumor. Either way, you experience the complication. This results in fun outcomes regardless of the roll.

To take this a step further, a referee could create a unique complication for every d20 result, with worse complications tied to lower results. Then, combine the downtime roll to a single check.

Making Death Interesting

I like to play at low levels, so death mechanics often come into play. I don't mind rolling a new character when I've earned a grisly demise, but living with some debilitating injury is usually the more interesting option. It would force me, as a player, to get more creative. Solve problems differently. That's an ideal outcome. So, I like Death & Dismemberment tables.

However, as far as less deadly options go, 5th Edition death saves stink. If my character is going to die, I'd rather him go out in a blaze of glory as opposed to anticlimactically bleeding out.

The dead enjoying themselves (art by Michael Wolgemut)

My last adventure came as part of a longer running campaign, though. The players were a little less reluctant to be quite so flippant with their characters. Instead, I convinced them to roll on an injury table whenever their characters went unconscious, then perform death saves as per 5th Edition rules.

The canned 5th Edition Lingering Injury table turned out to be dull. Most characters could hand-wave away the results. Magical healing is far too plentiful. The table resulted in a trivial injury, or a completely crippling one. So, I created a table with entries that resulted in more varied outcomes.

When you fall to 0 hit points, roll a d20:

1 - Lose an Eye - You have disadvantage on ability checks that rely on sight and on ranged attack rolls. Magic such as the Regenerate spell can restore the lost eye.

2 - Break and Arm - You can no longer hold anything with two hands, and you can only hold a single object at a time. This injury heals after one week of rest in a sanctuary during which you receive magical healing each day.

3 - Festering Wound - Your hit point maximum is reduced by 1 roll of your hit dice immediately and at dawn of every day until you complete a long rest and someone tends the wound with a successful DC 10 Wisdom (Medicine) check.

4-5 - Concussion - You have disadvantage on Intelligence ability checks and you cannot cast spells that require concentration until you complete a long rest.

6-8 - Internal Injury - Whenever you attempt an action in combat, you must make a DC 10 Constitution saving throw. On a failed save, you lose your next action and cannot use reactions until the start of your next turn. This injury heals after one week of rest in a sanctuary.

9-10 - Limp - Your speed on foot is reduced by half and you must make a DC 10 Dexterity saving throw after using the Dash action; if you fail, you fall prone. This injury heals after one week of rest in a sanctuary.

11-12 - Disclocated Shoulder - You can no longer hold anything with two hands, and you can only hold a single object at a time. You may reset your shoulder as an action, suffering 1d6 bludgeoning damage. Until you complete one week of rest in a sanctuary, whenever you are hit with a melee attack there is a 2-in-6 chance that the shoulder dislocates again.

13 - Lose Teeth - You have disadvantage on Charisma (Persuasion) checks. When you cast a spell with a verbal component there is a 2-in-6 chance the spell will not work. If the spell fails, you still used your action to try to cast it, but the spell did not use any slots or material components. Magic such as the Regenerate spell can restore the lost teeth.

14 - Tinnitus - You have disadvantage on Initiative rolls and on ability checks that rely on hearing until you complete a long rest in a quiet place.

15 - Horrible Scar - You have disadvantage on Charisma (Persuasion) checks and advantage of Charisma (Intimidation) checks. Magic such as the Heal or Regenerate spell can heal this injury.

16 - Painful Scar - Your scar gives you pain whenever it rains or snows. If you attempt an action in combat and your scar is giving you pain, you must make a DC 10 Constitution saving throw. On a failed save, you lose your action and can't use reactions until the start of your next turn. Magic such as the Heal or Regenerate spell can heal this injury.

17-19 - The scar doesn't have any adverse effect, but it looks cool. Magical such as the Heal or Regenerate spell can heal this injury.

20 - You have disadvantage on Dexterity (Sleight of Hand) checks, Dexterity checks to use tools, and on melee attack rolls with heavy and two-handed weapons. Magic such as the Regenerate spell can restore the lost digit.

A man rolling on the injury table

Next time, I will change it up. 

Option 1 - Keep the injury table above, but only allow a save against death every turn until a single failure

Option 2 (More Likely) - Work death results into the table above, and add modifiers to the roll that make bad results more likely based on how much damage the character took

The One Rule

After my honeymoon phase with 5th Edition and its litany of exciting player options ended, each week started to drag. Despite having more than too many possible "character builds," each session and the encounters within felt the same. Whether I played as a PC or the DM, the players were always in control of the situation.

Now I don't mean they always won or always lived. Shockingly, characters die in 5th Edition campaigns, too. I mean that players were always in control of their next move. They always have a good option to use from their class or subclass. Even if they did get creative, using their class feature was always the optimal choice. So, why bother trying to think of inventive solutions?

However, it's those inventive solutions that make one session feel different from the next. We sneaked past Monster A like this, trapped Monster B like this, and so on. Scenarios feel unique based on the environment, the tools at your disposal, and the players involved. 5th Edition, as its commonly played, rarely results in that kind of game. The environment hardly matters due to character power levels and the tools are always the same because they are class abilities.

Enter "the One Rule." I call it the One Rule not because it's the First Rule or the Most Important Rule, but because it's the one rule that brought a fun creative and inventive spirit back into my fantasy role-playing.

Characters can only gain the benefits of a long rest in a sanctuary, or any place where they have a roof over their heads, a place to sleep safely, and time to rest.

I also explained it to my players this way: if you would have to set a watch, you don't get a long rest.

Heroes camping and probably regaining all of their class abilities (art by Larry Elmore)

The 5th Edition rules implicitly contradict the One Rule when they define a long rest as "a period of extended downtime, at least 8 hours long, during which a character sleeps or performs light activity: reading, talking, eating, or standing watch for no more than 2 hours." If they expect you to take a watch during a long rest, the imply that a long rest occurs during any 8 hour stretch of staying put, and that's how most people play their 5th Edition games.

The One Rule is neither novel nor innovative. Many people already play this way. It does, however, change the quality of the game more than any other rule or rule change I have made. The roots of the hobby grew from this foundation: everything is a resource, and how you manage those resources - your spells, hit points, and abilities - forms the core of the game. The One Rule helps you return to those roots.

When implementing the rule, stay true to the intent. An empty cave in the woods isn't a sanctuary. An abandoned guard tower isn't a sanctuary. And you will never find a sanctuary in a dungeon. Sanctuaries are "base camp." A town, village, fort, or castle.

I wrapped up my first full campaign to use this rule yesterday, and the memories I have from the adventures aren't all epic battles. They're also the ways my players outsmarted their enemies: giants and gnolls and the gods themselves.

This is the one rule that changes the game.