Don't Keep Score: Attributes as Adjectives

Over the past year I have been playing RPGs much more than I have been running them, but I recently returned to some adventure writing and it had me reflecting on how I like to use PC attribute scores in my games.

I rarely if ever call for attribute checks. While I see their uses, I find that once you start using them, any player who has spent significant time with d20 system derivatives will start framing what they can and can't attempt around their attribute scores. "Oh, I'm strong but not that strong, you have a 5% better chance of success - why don't you try?" That kind of analysis immediately pulls me out of the fiction.

That doesn't mean that attribute scores have no bearing on my games. I treat attribute scores like gates: either you're strong enough to do it without risk, or you're going to need something else to succeed (tools, help, etc.). Take this example from Necrotic Gnome's The Incandescent Grottoes (p. 12):

"Lifting the door: Requires a combined 25 STR."

What is this saying? Of course there are multiple permutations, but at a glance I read "a combined 25 STR" to mean 3 normal characters (STR 10) or 2 strong characters (STR 13+). So, what do I need to know? I need to know if the characters attempting it are strong or not.

For my purposes, being strong is usually true or false. It rarely matters in my games if you have STR 13 or 14. It also more closely aligns with how we perceive strength in the moment. Sure, in some sports recruiting publication you might measure one strong guy as an A+ and another as an A-, but when you're trying to lift a heavy rock either one of them would do!

Here is another example of how the Old-School Essentials Advanced Fantasy Referee's Tome (p. 192) uses an attribute score:

"Spade of Mighty Digging [...] Minimum STR: Only a character of STR 18 or greater can use the spade."

What is this telling me? You have to be very strong to use this item. And, for my purposes, I don't even need to be that granular. It's enough to say "only strong characters can use this." STR 18 is so rare in a normal OSE character that even if a party found this treasure it's unlikely anyone could wield it!

Both of these examples care if the characters are strong enough or not. If they are, they can succeed without any check. If they aren't, they need help and no amount of attribute checks will change that.

A magic-user trying to prove that he is "Strong"

 

Does this mean we can jettison the scores altogether?

Look at a character sheet. If we have a PC with fairly standard scores aside from a high DEX, what do we lose if we give them the "Quick" attribute and ignore the scores? What if we note that the PC with high CHA is "Suave" and call it a day? Can attribute scores simply be attributes?

You could easily expand this with antonyms in the case of low scores:

ATTRIBUTE -- SCORE < 8 -- SCORE > 12

STR -- Weak -- Strong

DEX -- Slow -- Quick

CON -- Frail -- Tough

INT -- Dense -- Clever

WIS -- Naive -- Wise

CHA -- Awkward -- Suave

There is something about stripping away the numbers and leaning into the adjectives that brings me closer to the character as well. You could also branch out into various synonyms to give characters a slightly different flavor (e.g., using Graceful instead of Quick for a character with high DEX).

When I first thought about this, I was also reminded of Numenera's "I am an adjective noun who verbs" approach to creating your character. Now, in that system the various words also come with a lot of fiddly baggage, but I obviously find the basic concept intriguing.

Now, I do see some holes in an OSE game where you bypassed attribute scores altogether. How do you handle reaction roll bonuses? Retainer maximums? Open stuck doors rolls? But, those seem fairly easy to solve with quick rulings (ok, so your Awkward character has a -1 malus to a reaction roll with a cocky bandit ...). When I take this adventure I'm writing for a test run, I might give this little modification a whirl as well.

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

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.

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.

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.

Travel Challenges

For some reason, I like skill challenges.

I think it's the idea of a player stepping into their character and thinking about how the character would solve a problem given their unique talents.

But, every time I've tried to use player-driven skill challenges to depict wilderness travel, it's fallen flat.

Boring travel (painting by Stefano di Giovanni)

The fault lies with me, as the referee. Even if I set basic parameters, my players lack enough detail about the environment and the consequences to devise their own interesting obstacles. Sure, they can come up with something ("I jump over the chasm with Athletics"), but do those really add to the experience?

But, as soon as I start giving them more detail to set the scene, I ask myself "if I'm doing all of this work anyway, why not just run a hex crawl?"

In the future, I plan to take my favorite part of my travel challenges - the failure conditions and ramifications - and meld them into more traditional wilderness travel.

Getting Lost

• Whenever players take a wilderness turn to travel, roll an encounter die. The most common result is a travel challenge or obstacle rolled on a region-specific table (1-in-2 chance).
• Players propose a solution to the obstacle. If there is risk involved, call for a saving throw.
• A failure results in immediate repercussions and a failure added to the journey's tally. Then, they roll up another challenge: players cannot advance to the next hex until they overcome one.
• If the players accumulate 3 failures, they've wandered off course. Roll to find out what they've wandered into (typically a wandering monster).

I like the idea that getting lost isn't a binary failure but a series of blunders that leads to travel's fail state.

A more improvisational referee could do without the region-specific obstacle table and come up with challenges on the fly, but if I tried that they'd probably end up pretty boring.