Or, how I learned to stop worrying and love the bomb.
I don't want to trash my players. They're good people, one and all. At least one of them even drops by to read this humble blog. But... what a bunch of crybabies they can be when the results of my more than generous "4d6, drop the lowest and arrange to taste" is met with blank, horror-stricken looks as a single score is saddled with a minus on the ability adjustment... or they lack a single +2. Ruination, they cry.
I don't think this phenomenon is unique to my group. In fact, take the very concept of "character builds" and point buy systems that are now the default for modern RPGs. Often described as "new school" my belief is that they have actually been around since the day after the very first D&D player rolled a crummy character and was forced to keep it. These strike me as the logical evolution of the underlying, universal feeling on the part of the players: They want to win.
DMs that write blogs and who embrace the "old school" can wax poetic about the purity of straight 3d6. They can correctly point out how the successful players will generally play the game wisely and well despite their ability scores. They will indicate specific examples of adventure or encounter design where player skill and not high ability scores were required. Their arguments will be well-founded but meaningless. You see, our players simply want to kick the game's ass and high ability scores help ensure that... at least in their minds.
The player that doesn't fit this mold is the exception to the rule. They are either too new or too unconcerned with mechanics to worry about that AC bonus... or their day job is DMing the "real" game. This latter group can respect "The Game" with that imagined, egalitarian zeal one with no great stake in the outcome may adopt. Players, the real players, love high ability scores. When they roll their characters together, they crane their necks to see what's going on down the table. As a result of what they find they either stifle their smiles like poker players with bad tells or begin a series of facial gestures reminiscent of one's first bout with a shot of tequila. This depends, of course, on their relative position in the group in terms of rolls. Worse than both combined are the mopers.
I used to require all ability rolls to be made in my presence, if for no other reason than to watch the craning necks and sour faces. When that was consistently applied, the player characters all had remarkably similar scores in terms of the net sum. Of course there was the lucky or unlucky outlier, but the curve was predictably bell-shaped.
But we are adults now, and worthy of the benefit of the doubt. We are busy, and play infrequently enough that yes, you can show up early at Dan's place and roll up a guy. I'll be there on time to look over your character and then get the game going. Yes, this is perfectly reasonable and over time, yes, that nice bell curve became misshapen... leaning more and more to the right with each new character. As the ability scores got better and better it was obvious the players were in collusion. They were watching one another like crooks splitting up a stash of loot. One for you, one for me. Don't spend anything until the heat is off. We don't want to attract attention and spoil a good thing.
Yeah Jim, I watched him roll up his guy, everything was kosher.
So, after noticing this trend over time I decided to have one player roll his new character with me and live with the results as-is, provided the net result of his bonuses and penalties was a positive number. I was challenging the now established status quo. Things predictably came to a head. He hemmed. He hawed. He ground his teeth and squirmed in his chair. I think he might have cried had I not let him off the hook. I called him a big baby and let him re-roll. Which he did. Without shame.
I don't even blame them really. After all, I've got all the cards as DM, don't I? So, I've learned to love the bomb. As long as nobody is stupid or ballsy enough to show up with nothing lower than a 16 I'll pretend that the bastards aren't rolling and re-rolling ability scores until they find a satisfactory set. There's an unspoken agreement not to embarrass one another. There's a certain status quo to maintain here, is there not? Don't disrupt it and you may keep the 5th set of rolls you made in the 15 minutes I wasn't watching. And you know what? I'm OK with it. I do hold all of the cards. Successful players WILL need more than high abilities. I WILL display specific examples of adventure or encounter design where player skill and not high ability scores will be required. Let them have their tartar sauce.
I am fascist about viewing certain player's die rolls, which was one of the things that really got under my skin when we played online. Ability stats and major saving throws ... though I'm relaxed about battle throws.
ReplyDeleteI don't buy your 'we are adults' argument. Adults, I've found, are capable of all sorts of petty, villainous, thieving and otherwise criminal behavior, no matter what their age or experience. I don't trust adults.
I'm guessing the real reason your player hemmed and hawed had more to do with being unable to cheat than it had to do with bad rolls.
I've learned that when everyone submits to the same control mechanism (ie., me), not only do they lose the chance to cheat themselves, they know nobody else is cheating, either. This seems to encourage good feelings towards the excellent rolls others get, rather than resentment and envy.
I don't buy the argument either, at least not anymore, and mentioned it tongue-in-cheek. I've accepted the ability score fudging at this point now since it hasn't gotten out of hand, it saves time and it's frankly a drop in the ocean in the grand scheme. In my experience the difference between good and lousy scores is way less pronounced than most players are willing to accept.
ReplyDeleteI understand and appreciate the value of your consistent control mechanism, but have essentially abdicated that for convenience. The post is just a way to state that and explain why I'm ultimately OK with it. I'm actually much more concerned with battle rolls than you admit to being.
My approach: if the players are going to be superhuman fine, but their enemies are going to be just as powerful, those PCs with higher abilities are going to be targeted by larger and more powerful foes (wishing to make a name for themselves by besting the strongest and deftest). I like being strict about ability scores, but truth be told, in OD&D ability scores aren't super relevant. A fighter with an 7 strength is nearly as good as a fighter with 17 strength, he can still kill monsters and take their junk!
ReplyDeleteJJ, your point about OD&D is well taken, and I think it applies to some extent to all editions up to and excluding 3rd. But the problems I've found with your described approach of targeting the more powerful players are that it only serves to hurt the game in the following ways:
ReplyDelete1) If the powerful players aren't making themselves a target somehow it flies in the face of logic.
2) It undermines the DM objectivity that I strive for.
3) It ultimately only serves to justify the initial behavior. "James, we need these high scores... look at that stuff you're throwing at us?"
To be clear, though, my crew is only bending the rules a little bit. I can think of only one (maybe 2) players in five with an 18. Most of their scores end up in the 12-15 range, with more higher outliers than lower. Probability dictates, I believe, 13 should be the most commonly rolled nuymber... but that I should be seeing almost as many 10s or 11s as I do 15s. I should see 5 times as many 10 & 11s combined as I see 17s. I've consistently seen otherwise.
I know I'm commenting on an old post, but this is interesting, since I just went from DMing 4e to playing Rule Cyclopedia, so the differences here are quite stark in my mind.
ReplyDeleteI've rolled 3 characters with straight 3d6, and 15 is the highest stat I've had. One character had no stat higher than a 12, and one only had a 13 because she was originally a henchman that specifically had a +1 dex modifier.
What's funny is that the character in the party with great stats (two 17's?) died in the 2nd session to a basic save vs poison. In a swingy combat system like OD&D, stats aren't really as critical. It's more of a "proper planning and preparation prevents FUBAR" kinda situation.
Once you let go of the great stats idea, it's actually kinda liberating.
You've hit the nail on the head Murph, and that's why I don't sweat the ability scores so much. Their impact on the game is undeniable, particularly if the DM requires a lot of ability checks, but I'll take a smart plan and a good player over sweet scores given the choice.
ReplyDelete