Grappling with Overbearing Rules

Back in 1974, while the world was being introduced to D&D, we were also grooving to Carl Douglas's disco hit, Kung Fu Fighting!  Kung Fu was becoming all the rage in North America, thanks to the popularity of the 1973 movie, Enter the Dragon, and the television series, Kung Fu (1972-1975), and it's pretty fair to say that I've been a martial arts enthusiast ever since I watched David Carradine snatch the pebble from his master's hand back in 1972.

David Carradine as Kwai Chang Caine

I didn't end up discovering D&D until 1980, right around the same time that I was watching Chuck Norris kick ninja ass in The Octagon, while getting my own tossed around the tatami mats at the YMCA judo club.

Once I got my hands on the Dungeon Master's Guide, though, I was eager to see the rules for weaponless combat, sure that I would soon be dishing out some smack-down in an orgy of bar-room-brawling mayhem.  My eyes quickly glazed over as I read the two pages of rules for pummeling, grappling, and overbearing, which I'm sure are the most bewildering and complicated in rpg history.  The much-anticipated tavern mayhem never came to pass, and I have to wonder if anyone has ever used those rules.

The situation has never really improved much.  Even after running a 3rd Edition campaign for eight years I still needed to look up the rules every time a player wanted to grapple.  Does unarmed combat really have to be this complicated?

Here are some simple rules for pummeling and grappling that I've come up with for my S&W game that I think are pretty straightforward.  I use a 1 minute combat round and group initiative in my game, but the rules should be equally valid no matter what system you use.

Pummeling
1. When attacking an armed opponent all unarmed attacks are at -4 to hit, and the armed opponent attacks first regardless of initiative since the unarmed attacker must get inside the weapon's range.

2. A successful pummeling hit deals 1d6 points of damage minus the armour rating of the target because punching a guy in full plate armour is pretty pointless (this assumes the opponent is wearing a helmet).  So, for example punching an opponent in leather armour deals 1d6-2 points of damage.

Grappling
1. Before the grapple can occur the intended target must be taken down to the ground.  Unless the target is already on the ground a take-down attack (throw or leg-sweep) must be made.  If the take-down attack is made against an armed opponent the attack roll is at -4 to hit, and the opponent attacks first regardless of initiative.  An opponent's armour does not protect him against a take-down; only Dexterity bonus, Shield bonus, or magical items such as Bracers of Defense can protect against this attack.

2. If the take-down was successful the attacker follows his opponent to the ground and immediately applies a hold.

3. On the defender's turn he has one chance to break free.  Each participant in the grapple makes either a Strength or Dexterity check (whichever is higher) by rolling under their attribute score on 1d20.  Because fighters are universally trained in grappling arts they may add their level to their attribute score when making this check, and if monks are used in your game they, too, should add their level.  Whoever makes a successful attribute check by the greatest amount wins the grapple.  If the defender wins he is able to break the hold and either stand up or catch his attacker in a hold of his own.  If the attacker wins, his opponent is pinned and helpless.  Escape attempts on subsequent rounds are not allowed because the longer an attacker has to consolidate his hold the more difficult it becomes to break; even if you're using a 10 second combat round, by the time a defender makes a second attempt it is too late.

Now, let's get out there and dish out some smack-down with Carl Douglas!

Here Be Monsters

Polar bears are the world's largest terrestrial predator, with an average adult male weighing in at 450 kg (~1,000 lb) of claws and teeth.  And, unlike other bear species, Ursus maritimus considers people to be an acceptable alternative to their usual diet of seal. (The picture of the bear below was not taken by me, but was taken from Google Images)

Churchill, Manitoba, is home to the world's largest breeding population of polar bears and their close proximity to people leads to many potentially dangerous encounters.  Consequently local residents, and visitors who wish to remain un-mauled, adapt to the omnipresent threat.

The protocol at the Churchill Northern Studies Centre, the research facility where I stayed was to ensure that doors were kept closed at all times, and to look outside first before opening any doors to leave - since polar bears typically ambush seals at their breathing holes in the ice, they've also learned that doorways are good places to lurk in search of an easy meal.  And whenever you are outside, particularly when outside of town, it is important to grow eyes in the back of your head and be on the constant lookout for potentially dangerous situations.  This is especially true when working on the coastline, where the rocky shore and boulder fields often make it difficult to see an approaching bear until it is too late.

Working in conditions like this forces you to be constantly aware of your surroundings and always assessing potentially dangerous situations.  At one time this is how all people lived, but civilization has more or less culled our survival instincts, lulling us into a false sense of security despite the fact that the two-legged urban predators are the biggest threat that most of us face on a daily basis.  Over the past sixteen years I've had several close encounters with bears in the field and they've all ended well; by contrast I've had several violent confrontations with thugs in the city in just the past few years.

Another interesting facet of life in Churchill is that you never leave town unarmed.  Twelve-gauge shot-guns are as ubiquitous an accessory there as cell-phones are in the city, and it was amusing to see a person bicycling down the street with a shot-gun slung across his back.  This is a perfectly ordinary sight, which in the big city would illicit panic and end with the cyclist face-down on the ground, hand-cuffed and surrounded by police with weapons drawn.

Palaeontologist, Dave Rudkin, keeping an eye out for bears while working

These observations have gotten me thinking, as always, about gaming, particularly about the prevalence of personal weapons in a fantasy city.  I've rarely ever seen any sort of weapons restrictions in a fantasy campaign, yet it seems to me that such restrictions would increase in direct proportion to the size of the city and consequent power of civil authority.  Small towns along the frontier are likely to be completely unrestricted, whereas urban settings might require permits, peace-bonds, or even an outright ban on carrying personal weapons.  I suspect that such a ban would be particularly common in cities with tyrannical or extremely authoritarian rulers, where civil disobedience and revolt are likely.

Such complications add an interesting dynamic to urban adventures since the players will still need to deal with  the ubiquitous urban predators while either placing themselves at a disadvantage against such foes or dealing with the legal repercussions of not doing so.

It was just such authoritarian regulation that led to the widespread proliferation of karate and kobudo throughout Okinawa, whose citizens were forbidden the use of weapons, but who still had to deal with constant threats to their lives and property.  So, in this case, the prohibition of weapons had a profound influence on Okinawan culture and it stands to reason that similar analogues might exist in a fantasy setting.

This post is the last of my recollections of Churchill and is also an introduction to my next couple of posts on unarmed combat in fantasy gaming.  So as the sun sets on Churchill, I give you the polar bear, Swords & Wizardry style.

Bear, polar
Armour Class: 3                 Special:
Hit Dice: 8                          Move: 15/6 (when swimming)
Attacks: Claws or bite        HDE/XP: 8/800

Polar bears are the largest of all bear species and have particularly robust skeletons and thick fur, which protects them from harm.  They are very fast, both on land and in the sea, and they are well-insulated and able to withstand extreme cold.

Sunset from the Churchill Northern Studies Centre

Fortress on the Borderlands

I don't think that I'd be speaking only for myself if I were to say that there is an enduring appeal to campaigns that are set outside the bounds of civilization on the border of the great unknown.  The perils of exploration, the thrill of discovery, and the promise of untold riches have provided the starting hook for many a campaign over the years, most especially for those of us whose first introduction to D&D was with Gary Gygax's adventure module, Keep on the Borderlands.

The focal point of Keep on the Borderlands is the keep, itself.  The sole bastion of civilization on the edge of the great frontier, the keep provided a home base for adventurers to rest, resupply, and sell off their loot.

During my recent trip to Churchill, I had an opportunity to visit a real Keep on the Borderlands at Cape Merry, where the Churchill River empties into Hudson Bay.

The strategic importance of Hudson Bay cannot be understated, as it was the gateway to the interior of North America, providing access to a wealth of natural resources.  The mouth of the Churchill River is guarded by Fort Prince of Wales, which was built in the early 18th century as a Hudson Bay Company outpost.  The HBC, one of the world's oldest corporations, was established in 1670 to engage in North American fur trade and is still operates as a Canadian department store chain with its main branch in Winnipeg.

In 1770, a rival corporation, The Northwest Company, was formed to break the HBC's stranglehold on the fur trade, and so intense was the rivalry that armed conflict often arose in what has become known as 'The Fur Trade Wars.'  (Indeed, my home in Winnipeg is just a few blocks from the site of the 1815 Battle of Seven Oaks in which Governor Robert Semple, with a force of HBC men, unwisely left the safety of Fort Douglas to engage a band of NWC men and were massacred in the ensuing battle.)

Fort Prince of Wales across the river from the gun battery

Fort Prince of Wales, shown above, served a similar function to the Keep on the Borderlands by providing a haven for fur traders to resupply and sell their wares.  On the Cape Merry side of the river, the mouth was guarded by a gun battery to prevent enemies gaining access to the interior water ways.

The battery, built more than 250 years ago, still serves its purpose, manned today by an armed Parks Canada sentry on polar bear lookout.

The battery still has a rusted cannon pointing out across the river.

The picture shown above is the partially constructed remains of the original battery.  The project was abandoned when it was realized that the battery was pointing directly at Fort Prince of Wales, and should the battery fall into enemy hands they would be able to bombard the Fort with its own guns.  The existing battery was built so that no gun would have line of site to the fort.

The fort also served as a whale fishery, and looking out at the bay at any given moment one will see several beluga whales broaching the surface (in the picture below, the white dot in the water is a beluga).

I always get a lot of gaming inspiration from my summer field work, and many of my campaign settings are heavily influenced by my own real-life adventures.  Taking a couple hours off work to visit Cape Merry gave my imagination a good stir, and as I leaned against the gun ports of the battery looking out across the water I gained a very visceral appreciation for resource-based wilderness campaigns.

Ze Bulette recently posted an article on Alternatives to Capitalism in role playing games, which proposed replacing the gold standard monetary system with a real-world barter system.  This has been done in a few games, such as Fantasy Flight's Midnight campaign setting, but in truth we don't tend to see it as often as we might.

Most often, treasure in our campaigns consists of chests of gold coins and sacks of gems and jewelry, but there is a whole lot of wealth to be obtained from exploiting the resources of the unexplored reaches of the campaign world.  Considering how many people became filthy rich off the fur trade, imagine dealing in such exotic products as wyvern skins, couatl feathers, or the oh-so-sleek owlbear pelt.  I suspect that trade in hard-to-get spell components would be very lucrative and it never hurts to know powerful wizards who owe you a favour, and venom sacs would fetch a good price from the local assassin's guild.  Providing there is a convenient outpost where adventurers can sell their goods, this could make for a very interesting type of campaign that encourages players to look for new avenues of profit and take the lead in planning their adventures.  So maybe it's time to dust off the Keep on the Borderlands and press it into service once again by dropping it into your favourite wilderness setting and using it as a base of operations for a game of exploration, because as my favourite cartoonist, Bill Waterson, once said in a Calvin and Hobbes strip: 'There's treasure everywhere!'

Into the Midgewater Marshes

'I am being eaten alive!' cried Pippin. 'Midgewater! There are more midges than water!' - J.R.R. Tolkien

Like most of us, I have an utter revulsion for small biting insects, against whose predations there is little defense.  The first time I ever read The Lord of the Rings, I cringed in sympathy as the hobbits followed Strider into the Midgewater Marshes and in the years since, I've traversed many buggy places in the world, and have come to appreciate Sam's query, "What do they live on when they can't get hobbit?"  But never more so than in the last week.

Compare scene above from the movie, The Fellowship of the Ring, with the uncannily similar view from my bedroom window in the Churchill Northern Studies Centre.

The following excerpt from The Lord of the Rings describes the Midgewater Marshes, but applies equally well to the tundra along the Hudson Bay coastline, where I spent the last week doing palaeontological field-work:

"The ground now became damp, and in places boggy and here and there they came upon pools, and wide stretches of reeds and rushes filled with the warbling of little hidden birds.  They had to pick their way carefully to keep both dry-footed and on their proper course."

In Churchill, too, the ground was damp, and in places boggy, with pools here and there.  There were also the cries of arctic terns and the sinister cackling of hidden ptarmigan.  But above all were the thick swarms of blood-sucking insects, including three different species of mosquitoes, black flies, horse flies, deer flies and, yes, midges.  Black flies and midges are especially annoying as they have the tendency to fly into your ears, up your nose, in your mouth if you are so foolish as to open it, and I was even temporarily blinded by getting one in my eye.

What do they live on when they can't get palaeontologists?

The picture above is Royal Ontario Museum palaeontologist, Dave Rudkin, approximately fifteen seconds after getting out of the truck as he stopped to load his shotgun.

One of the challenges of doing field work in settings like this is to remain focused on the job at hand while also keeping a constant eye out for approaching polar bears, all the while trying to fend off thick swarms of insects that are determined to drive you insane while they drain your blood.  Then there are diverting games, like competing to see who can kill the most mosquitoes with a single swat.  All in all, it becomes very difficult to maintain concentration under such circumstances and I now have an all-new appreciation for the effectiveness of the third level AD&D Druid spell, Summon Insects, which I have adapted for my Swords & Wizardry campaign.  The spell effects seem pretty realistic in my experience, and this would make an excellent anti-magic-user spell.

Conjuration of the Pestilential Swarm
Spell Level: M3
Range: 60 ft.
Duration: 1 round per level of the caster

This spell causes a swarm of flesh-eating insects to envelop the targeted victim.  The swarm deals 2 points of damage per round.  The victim is incapacitated while engulfed in the swarm, and is unable to take any action except to swat ineffectually.  If the target is killed before the spell expires the swarm can be directed at a new target.  The swarm can move 20 ft. per round.

Painting the Mythos: Deep Ones

I haven't been doing much painting, or posting, lately.  Like much of the continent, Winnipeg has been caught in the grip of a brutal heat-wave, and with record-breaking humidity to make it extra fun.  So I've spent the last week cowering in the basement of my non-air-conditioned house.  One of the best ways to survive the heat is a vacation to the beach - unless, that is, the local residents all have a certain 'Innsmouth look.'

Dagon has long been my favourite Great Old One, and his cults figure prominently in most of my campaigns.  And of course, what's a Dagon cult without Deep Ones?  As an aside, if there is anyone who hasn't read Lovecraft, but is looking to give him a try, I recommend The Shadow Over Innsmouth as an excellent jumping in point as it is a wonderful, creepy story that is a great introduction to the Cthulhu Mythos.

The body was base-coated with a mix of Reaper Forest Green and Mahogany Brown, then layered with successively lighter tones of green and turquoise.  The under-arms and belly were painted with a mix of Pale Green, and Pure White, with a wash of Sunlight Yellow around the margins.  The eyes were painted Deep Red, then blended up through orange to yellow at the center.

The base was sculpted using Epoxolite epoxy modelling putty.  I glued sand on the base behind the creature, and sculpted ripple marks in front, then filled these with Realistic Water to make it look like the Deep One is standing at the water's edge.

Deep Ones have long been present in D&D, represented by the Kuo-Toa, but several other sinister aquatic races have appeared in the game, such as Sahuagin and Aboleths, which like many of D&D's classic monsters, have some obvious Lovecraftian influences.

A few years ago, during a heavily Dagon-centric sea-faring D&D campaign, my players all chipped to buy me this awesome Dagon figure in hopes of eventually confronting him.  Sadly the party all wiped at mid-level, prematurely ending the campaign before the epic confrontation could occur.

The heat wave in Winnipeg has finally broken, and I'll be spending the rest of the day packing for my own trip to the sea shore.  Tomorrow I'm off for a week of field-work in Churchill, a remote community on the shore of Hudson Bay in Manitoba's subarctic, and assuming I don't have any fatal encounters with polar bears or Deep Ones, I'll post pictures when I get back.  For those of you still suffering the heat, try to keep cool, and if you are planning a trip to the beach, keep a wary eye out for wide-mouthed locals with bulging eyes - you never know...

For the Guidance of Wise Men

I took my daughter to the beach today. I set up my beach chair near the water's edge, and prepared to enjoy a little Vance while watching her frolic in the water.  Alas it was not to be.  An officious teen-age life guard made her get out of the water and told me that she couldn't go back in without an adult in the water within arm's reach. This might seem reasonable, except that in this circumstance she has had two years of swimming lessons, was splashing in knee-deep water while wearing a floater jacket, and I was only a few meters away watching.  There was no possible harm that could have come to her, but that doesn't matter.  Rules are rules and must be strictly obeyed, right?  Apparently, Surf Nazis really do exist.

This whole thing got me to thinking about how our society is becoming increasingly regulated by 'zero-tolerance' policies.  A common example that frequently irks me is school buses.  Whenever a school bus embarks or disembarks passengers a battery of flashing red lights signals the imminent demise of the world and a big stop sign is displayed to drive the point home.  There is even a big long bar that swings out to physically prevent kids from running in front of the bus and into the street.  All traffic in both directions must stop until the lights stop flashing.  Again, a reasonable precaution.  In some circumstances.  But, more often than not, the bus ends up bringing four lanes of traffic to a grinding halt on a main thoroughfare at rush hour for the sake of one child whose parent holds her hand while she gets on or off the bus.  There is no possible threat to the child from street traffic unless said parent physically hurls her in front of a passing car, yet everyone must still stop.  This continues on from pre-school right through high school, and I sat waiting a few weeks ago, for a group of seventeen and eighteen-year old students some of whom have the right to vote, but can't trusted to get off a bus without killing themselves.

I could cite many other such examples of ridiculous safety precautions to protect us against non-existent or extremely improbable threats, that I'm sure exist, primarily, to increase my blood pressure.  It isn't just the inconvenience that annoys me, but also the social implications of artificially selecting for stupidity by weening common sense out of the gene pool and raising a generation of narcissists who have been taught their whole lives that the world, literally, stops for them.  But, every time someone dies of improbable circumstance, the Maude Flanders' of the world embark upon crusades to make sure that it never happens to anyone ever again.  The end result is that we are plagued with yet another 'zero-tolerance' policy.

Now, I'm all for rules and guidelines, but I have absolutely no patience for stupidity, and in my experience zero tolerance = zero brains.  The people whose job it is to enforce rules usually fall into two camps; they either are not allowed any latitude in applying the rule, which is likely the case with bus drivers and officious teen aged lifeguards, or they lack the wit to understand the rules they are paid to enforce, which covers most bureaucrats and administrators, though some are just bullies who like to bludgeon people into submission, wielding a rule book like a truncheon.  I ran into into far more than my share of these latter two types of administrators during my years in the navy, and I'm sure that anyone in any branch of civil service has as well.

Stand by for segue in 5....4....3....2....1....

 For nearly as long as role playing games have existed there has been conflict between rules-lawyers who insist on strict interpretation of the rules and are quick to jump on the slightest infraction, and those who prefer to wing it and use the guidelines to adjudicate situations on a case-by-case basis using common sense to modify the rules to fit the circumstances.  And, yeah, just like those administrators, there are game masters who just don't understand the game or who are bullies who empower themselves with the rules.

But it occurs to me that a sort of zero-tolerance policies are making its way into modern game systems, creating a third type of rule-Nazi; game masters who are not allowed any latitude in the interpretation of the rules.  Games like 4E have such complex tapestries of rules, designed to cover every situation without the need for much thought or common sense, that even if you wanted to, winging it would only cause the tapestry to unravel.

It is interesting that our hobby parallels society as a whole, and that as our lives become increasingly regulated by rules that often don't make any sense, so do our games.  Coincidence?  I don't know, but it's interesting to ponder.

I was confronted by the rules-as-written vs. rules-as-intended dilemma just other day while playing in a Warhammer 40K mega-battle.  We're running a huge multi-session battle with three teams of six players and no less than 12,000 points worth of miniatures on the table.  At one point my partner proposed firing on a group of Space Marines and Dark Eldar who were locked in close combat.  According to the rules you are not allowed to shoot into close combat, but the rules assume a fight between two sides and the intent is that there is too great a risk of hitting your own men to shoot into a melee.  In this case, because the melee involved two enemy forces, it would make perfect sense to shoot at them, because no matter who dies, we win.  There was strong objection by one of the Space Marine players who argued that the rule was the rule and should not be broken (though I doubt he would have mounted such a ardent objection had it not been some of his troops involved in the melee), and it is another interesting example of rules applied when it doesn't make any sense.

Now, I'm a 'spirit of the law' kind of guy, both in life and in gaming, but obviously not everybody agrees with that philosophy.  So, I guess all you can do is try not to let the bastards get you down and take heart in knowing that some day, even Surf Nazis must die.

The Day of the Dying Earth

Today is Canada Day, and in my house that means just one thing.  My family heads off to attend the Canada Day celebrations leaving me at home, blissfully alone, with an entire afternoon to myself.  Yes, it is the Day of Sean!  I'm even thinking of petitioning to have Canada's birthday officially renamed The Day of Sean in much the same way that I renamed my birthday Sean Appreciation Day - I still get cake and presents, I just don't get any older.

I spent the afternoon on my front porch with a carafe of coffee and a good book - namely, Jack Vance's classic, The Dying Earth, which I am only now reading for the very first time.  I can't believe I've been playing D&D for thirty years without having read this, one of the Appendix N books that Gygax cited as one of the most immediately influential upon AD&D.  And wow, have I been missing out.  I recently ordered Tales of the Dying Earth, which contains all four of Vance's Dying Earth books.  I've just gotten through The Dying Earth and I'm absolutely enamoured.  This book is fantastic!  If there are any other recalcitrant hold-outs out there, do yourself a favour and pick this up.

As I immersed myself in tales of self-centered protagonists searching the ancient ruins of our advanced civilization for artifacts of power, I couldn't help thinking that this would make a fantastic campaign setting or rpg, and sure enough, the Dying Earth Roleplaying Game is published by Pelgrane Press and their free quickstart rules can be downloaded here.

Now I'm to haul my barbequed hamburger-laden stomach off to the back yard to start on The Eyes of the Overworld, and bask in more Vancean goodness, so I bid you all a very happy Day of Sean!