Teasing Out the Wargame...

OK, so I apologize in advance for what might seem a pedantic post about the little things residing within our various inspirations. Longtime readers know Robyn and I appreciate rules-light gaming, exchanging complex mechanics for complex narratives. Roleplaying doesn't require minimalism; but it almost certainly benefits from getting out from behind the rules and re-engaging with players and their unvarnished decisions, which brings us to this month's offering: teasing a simple roleplaying game out of wargaming rules...

So sometime back in the days of manual type, the New England Wargamer's Association published some LOTR-themed rules, provided below with apologies to your collectives eyes, click the image to enlarge. It's made the rounds in gaming circles, and I've just now gotten around to mining this bit of inspiration for ideas. These are evolutionary ancestors to modern roleplaying, and maybe we can (reverse) engineer something useful from them.   

So first, dragons. There's talk of triangular cones (surviving into modern play); but I'm more interested in the idea that dragons crush their targets, and that said targets can save and subsequently escape on a 5 or better. This probably isn't a direct ancestor to saving throws; but it shows the concept was kicking around the hobby. More importantly, and for present purposes, it suggests an alternative to the typical "hit point" approach...

Next, we have wizards (dragons and wizards are a great starting point). There's talk of fireballs, a staple of magic, and special immunities (as opposed to spellcraft); but I'm more interested in the idea that it takes 20 non-cumulative hits in a single round to defeat one owing to their abiding power. Non-cumulative. In a hypothetical roleplaying situation, Gandalf can take 19 hits without succumbing and bounces back the next round renewed.  

SAVE YOUR EYES AND CLICK TO ENLARGE

Finally, and I'm lumping the rest together, there's ents, orcs, and men to complete the fantastical battlefield. Ents defeat orcs on a roll of 3 or better, men (humans) with a 4 or more in an early version of armor class. Heroes (including anti-heroes) endure some 10 non-cumulative hits, akin to wizards, before succumbing to death. Now is this enough to cobble together a simplified combat mechanic? You bet your splintered shields...

Let's say characters can take 6 non-cumulative hits in a round of combat before dying, with attacks dealing one (or sometimes two) dice in damage. Less than 6, you live to the next round, refreshed in whole; but suffer 6 or more, roll to save (5 or better) with armor granting an appropriate bonus: light (+1), heavy (+2), shields (+1), such that a character in heavy armor and shield only dies on a 1. No attack rolls, just rolled damage against foes.

DISCLAIMER: I started playing in 1978; D&D, not wargames. I don't pretend to be an expert on wargames or the specific inspirations for particular mechanics, welcoming (warmly) the expertise of better heads. The point of this isn't forensic, but a desire to construct an original system from a wargaming source, especially one we might not fully understand (however intriguing it may otherwise be) and to demonstrate just how little is needed...

The above could be a simple, no-magic game of men vs. monsters. Everything else, whether money and equipment and/or the specifics of individual foes (and why shouldn't these be exclusive to the setting), falls to the referee. The earliest campaigns did just that. Dave had his game, Gary had another. Only with D&D as a commercial, for-profit enterprise did this paradigm overturn, and it wasn't always smooth going. Anyway, the best thing about gaming just might be the pleasure of creating our own, and that's an empowering thought.

Arsenic & Old Lace (a Review)...

The free-kriegsspiel revolution (or FKR; sometimes free-kriegsspiel roleplay) has been getting a lot of attention lately, which seems inevitable given renewed interest in the pastime's wargaming origins. But this style is far more than the minimalism it's known for. Instead, imagine that complexity is transferred from the rules to the narrative. This is free kriegsspiel in its purest form, and one most aspiring products fall short of by necessity...

Enter Arsenic & Old Lace by Tainted Edge Games. This release doesn't shy away from narrativism, embracing its promise by way of an evocative (and overlooked) backdrop; namely, The Thirty Years War, noting that this isn't history as it was, but how it was believed to be, complete with its cunning men, wise women, and mercenaries hardened by the endless conflict plaguing the land. It's an adventurer's paradise.*

The book is laid out like a period handbill, with woodblock-styles artwork to heighten the game's atmosphere. Narrative is everything, which includes the visual; and after an explanation of the system's core premise, the reader is offered a list of suggested readings (and viewings) to further reinforce the primacy of narratives as the guiding light of this approach. From here the rules proper begin, in keeping with the FKR spirit...

Characters each choose a vocation, including the aforementioned cunning men (and wise women) and mercenaries, but also thieves, witch hunters, and woodsmen. Each is offered as a descriptive narrative. What can they do? Whatever their definition allows for. And how is success decided? By rolling against a target number set by the Storyteller (a variation of the GM), supplemented, for added flavor, by some mechanical flourishes...

Resolve is a combination hit points/spendable luck point provision You spend it staying alive and/or improving dice rolls. Destiny is granted at the onset of an adventure and otherwise accumulated whenever the character rolls a natural 20 (we love this). Spending a point of this turns a failure into a success, albeit at a price, adding additional nuance to the emerging storyline. What happens? Ask the narrative. Does it work? Roll the bones...

From here the rules veer into seven appendices, covering everything from random encounters to potential spells. Magical effects are negotiated with the Storyteller, but with narrative (and historical) guardrails to impose balance. There's a total of three charts, extraordinary even in rules-light fare, and no monster lists (most enemies are human anyway) because imagination, through the narrative, is enough to give them life.

Of course, all of this relies on the same high-trust dynamic characteristic of the OSR in general; but taken to a whole new level. Narratives are rules, and rules provide the atmosphere expected of a simulated reality. Rules serve at the pleasure of the narrative, which means the perfect FKR just might read like a good story. Arsenic & Old Lace exemplifies this style, making it an essential addition to any FKR collection...

*Yes, it has black-powder rules and would work nicely with Barons of Braunstein.

Gratification in the Gaming Age...

There's no doubt we live in an age of instant gratification. There isn't much we can't get immediately. Instant books, instant food, games, and instant movies and/or television (binge watching is a guilty pleasure in our personal orbit). Nice, and who's complaining? When hunger strikes, it's nice to get DoorDash. General Tso's is delicious, while pants are definitely overrated. Let's not pretend this fact isn't hot-buttered awesome...

Ditto for tabletop games. Steam makes us wait at least 10 minutes; but Drive-thru is nearly instantaneous. A universe of gaming goodness awaits a clicking finger. And again, who among us would dare to complain? In the time it took to write these words, someone picked up the complete Pits & Perils (and may they enjoy their purchase), underscoring just how good this is for everyone involved. Speedy delivery rocks; but what gets lost?

Things are precious because they're rare. Or infrequent. And that's the price we pay for this windfall. At the risk of waxing nostalgic, I remember the following well...

(1) Ordering my dungeon Hobby Shop catalog and waiting two weeks, only to order some miniatures and wait several more, checking the mailbox Christmas Story style. 

(2) Waiting all month for the next issue of Dragon (with a subscription).

(3) Patiently saving my allowence for some desired thing. The pleasure of a monthly trip to Pizza Hut. Next week's episode of (insert show here), seasoned by the waiting.

Speed is good, and variety better. Truly we live in a golden age. But if things are precious when they're rare, and it's sometimes better to wait, how do we square that circle and get the best of both worlds? Maybe we have to cut ourselves off from the glut of options, imitating yesterday's deprivations today. Yesterday was unintententional. There wasn't as much, and fewer ways to deliver it. These days, we need a more conscious approach... 

Curate a wishlist, schedule purchases in imitation of a middle-school budget (few of us are rich, so this part's easy), and maybe control social media time. Kickstarters are the very definition of delayed gratification, but proceed with caution. I'm not so old I think living was better with less; but just like we need to exercise to make up for the physical activity we lose in our sedentary lifestyles, maybe we should engineer that specialness ourselves.

No Clouds Above, No Men Below...

Ageism might be the last acceptable predjudice; and given the young/old divide implied by the OSR, you definitely see this in the gaming community. Case in point: last week on Facebook (because it's always Facebook), some grognard posted a meme waxing nostalgic about their younger days and marathon sessions. No putting anyone else down, no ugly edition warfare, just reminiscing about a happy childhood. Well along comes the inevitable contrarian, who suggested it sounded like "old man yells at cloud" stuff...

Really? Also, absurd. So here goes. Simply (1) being old, (2) preferring older editions of whatever system, and (3) enjoying happy memories doesn't make you the proverbial old man (or woman) yelling at clouds beyond the rather thoughtless imaginations of some. By this reasoning, every grognard should immediately burn their rulebooks and rend their garments over these false memories of happiness. If you're denigrating the younger generation and their rulebooks, you are this guy. But simply liking your favorite stuff is far from it.

I get it (and rather suspect it's tit for tat). The young are denigrated ad nauseum for being born decades too late. Their games, famously forgiving, are too soft (as though generation X stormed the blood-stained beaches at Normandy). It's Marxism. Storygamers are entitled swine (take that, Forge). This is old man vs. cloud multiplied, and every bit as ridiculous as the reverse. Games are played for fun, and each offers a different experience. Unless a ruleset involves bona fide homicide, it's hardly Hitler's invasion of Poland...

But it's not all bad. Last year (also on Facebook) someone posted a gag module called Against the Grognards. I pointed out that grognard implied the aged, broad brushing them as stereotypical Boomers who resist everything. What they meant was Gatekeeper, a sadly universal phenomenon transcending generations. And you know what? My Facebook friend agreed, changing the title and making it all the funnier. Laziness is easier than nuance, accounting for much confusion. But preference and nostalgia alone are no offense.