So last month (I don't remember when) I read a bog post (I don't remember which, except that it wasn't previously familiar) explaining old-school D&D in terms of its lethality and general indifference to the fate of its protagonists. Inevitably, this led one reader to suggest that old-school gaming was (apparently) a grimdark country populated by psychopathic juveniles in service to a death-cult hobby. Their sentiment, my words. And while I took the time to reassure them (and will again), this reputation is somewhat earned...
Maybe. Stay with me. But first, the reassurances. I started playing in 1978; and while character death was absolutely a feature of the landscape, it was never the point and never emphasized or marketed that way. Bad luck (and/or poor decisions) had consequences, which counseled good strategy and motivated our actions. But mortality was never the point so much as a potential, if unwelcomed, outcome. No, the sales pitch, and core experience being offered, was fantastic adventures we'd (probably) live to see.
Never mind the Satanic Panic (which would have had a field day with Mork Borg); early D&D, however combat-oriented, wasn't marketed as some futile experience because, seriously, who would buy such a thing? I can fail in real life, thank you very much. Sure, this happened despite every precaution sometimes; but it wasn't the product's defining objective. And the campaigns which resulted were upbeat affairs and heroic. We laughed, joked, and generally lived to tell of our experiences, and never because we were doing it wrong...
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Alright, so why the bad reputation? First off, because certain modern games are objectively more forgiving, being made for detailed backstories and cherished characters who return unscathed through continuing adventures. The mere fact that professional character portraits, some quite good, are even a thing suggests this implied longevity. Those only drawn to the pastime because of this aren't likely to enjoy dying at the hands of capricious fate because to them, the alternative is a senseless grind they'd never willingly choose.
In short, modern survivability makes it a different game. And modern OSR publishers, ever eager to differentiate their products, play up these distinctions, which is how we get the bloodied mascot of Lamentations and the Die! Die! Die! aesthetic of the aforementioned Mork Borg. Add a (not insignificant) network of grognards waxing nostalgic about TPKs, and it's obvious from whence this reputation proceeds. If you're a young person who would only ever play the modern interpretation, all of this can seem off-putting in the extreme...
Basic Fantasy isn't doing this. And while, in fairness to Lamentations and Mork Borg, these products are tapping a certain niche, they're nonetheless a sharp deviation from OD&D's self-image even in its most wargamish moods. Sadly, the internet's bred a certain type of moral philosopher convinced (I'm not sure this isn't hyperbole) that one's choice in games indicates their character as a person. Danger is the only acceptable way to play, the only experience capable of delivering fun, and the only choice of any right-minded person.
Again, this is (I hope) hyperbolic. But it reinforces the notion that old-school gaming (name the system) was a death-worshipping cult. All jokes aside, the heightened probability of death inherent to old-school games feels like masochism to those who only began playing for the collaborative storytelling approach on offer. But the extreme element of the OSR is marketing to a (totally legitimate) subgenre, while the earliest hobby wasn't grimdark, but heroic, with danger and the threat of death punctuating fun adventures we lived to experience...
"The random arrow that is the bane of nards everywhere."
ReplyDeleteOnce you start trying to tell a story with the player characters a random death often becomes inconvenient ro the plot you hasve planned. This leads to trying to ensure it doesn't happen, whether this is by the old school method of fudging dice rolls or the newer school method of balancing encounters so the players generally win, or the newest school method of substituting death for something else (such as being captured instead and escaping). Especially since newer rules tend to want more preparation in the creation of these encounters.
On the flip side if you let the players tell the story of their adventurers by the doing of them, such precautions are not needed. Especially where players can choose whether or not they engage with something. And players got to choose the difficulty setting they preferred in most cases (such as deciding to descend in a dungeon), rather than be presented with one. It could be dangerous and definitely risky, and a big element of that risk was that you were never coming back.
Old school's a simulation, new school more of a script...
DeleteWe never were entranced by character deaths. It was possible, yes, and to be avoided. It was the adventure and having fun with your friends that drew us in. Even Traveller, where you could die in character creation, was not about the death.
ReplyDeleteExactly! We remember what we did, not how we died...
DeleteI think what people really relish is not the death itself, but the feeling death could happen which makes surviving so much sweeter. Of course this doesn't really come out clearly the way people talk.
ReplyDeleteI also think it got worse when people talk about funnels being so joyous and they are just meat grinders of death. Again its fun because you hopefully have a survivor at the end (sweet) despite all the death.
There was certainly that sense of accomplishment...
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