Pathfinder Class Analysis 11: Wizard

Core Concept: It’s the wizard; true descendant of the magic user. I said earlier that if there were only one class, it should be the fighter. Well, if there were only two classes, then the second should be the wizard. While other styles of caster can add depth to the game, none has ever inspired my imagination the way the wizard does. I think there’s something to be said for a class which uses books being powerful in a game contained within books.

Spells / Spellbooks: Vancian magic has been a subject of heated discussion since the release of 4th edition several years ago. And while I don’t want to delve too deeply into the pros and cons, I will say that I like Vancian magic. No big surprise, I know. I find it simple enough that people don’t have trouble understanding it, functional enough that it doesn’t harm gameplay, and flavorful enough that it doesn’t feel like a purely mechanical system put in place to serve function and simplicity.

I will add, though, that I think I’d prefer it if wizards never gained spells automatically upon leveling up, and were instead forced to research new spells right from level 1. Further, I think the class could make do with fewer spell slots. I may have suggested something like that in the past.

Arcane Bond: Like the druid, paladin, and ranger before it, arcane bond is the wizard’s pet choosing ability. On the one hand they can gain a familiar, as wizards traditionally do, on the other hand they can gain a bonded item. My thoughts on these choices haven’t really changed, so lets ignore the choice and focus on the bonded item ability. Essentially, the wizard selects an item through which they’ll focus their spellcasting, like a wand. The wand confers certain bonuses to them, and they find it very difficult to cast without it. Once per day, the wizard may use the bonded item to cast a spell from their spellbook which they have not prepared in advance.

This is super duper awesome. Because while I like for players to be forced to think ahead and plan their spell use, I also like the idea of a single-use backup in case something unexpected comes up. It’s not for every game, but it’s certainly an interesting mechanic for pathfinder. With the added bonus that it requires players to store their magical energy in an item which can be stolen by villains to reduce the wizard’s effectiveness.

Arcane Schools: I’m not fond of how Pathfinder handles arcane schools for a couple of reasons.

Firstly, in D&D 3.5, a character’s barred school absolutely could not be cast from. In Pathfinder this restriction has been lessened so that barred schools are simply more difficult to cast from. Often during these posts I’ve expressed a preference for allowing the character to do cool things rather than simply try to do cool things. This is the inverse of that. If the players need to make a choice which will limit them in the future, then those limits should be concrete. I don’t see any reason to buff the class this way.

My second issue with arcane schools is that they’re made into watered-down bloodlines. Part of what makes bloodlines so great is that they make the sorcerer class distinct from the wizard. Why diminish that effect by giving the wizard such a similar ability?

Cantrips: Unlike yesterday, I quite literally have nothing to say about Cantrips which wasn’t already said when I wrote about orsions back in the cleric analysis.

Scribe Scroll: When I first reread this entry for the analysis, I didn’t think much of it. Level one bonus feat for scribing scrolls, it works, whatever, move on. But upon reflection, I think credit needs to be given for this idea. The wizard, the caster who performs magic with the power of their intellect, is able to work their magic into scrolls. Other casters can do this as well, but only the wizard does not require special training.

It’s not a huge deal, but I kinda like that touch.

Bonus Feat: What a lame ability to end on! I’ve written so much about bonus feats across the numerous classes which have them, that I don’t really know what else to say. I always felt like, compared to other classes, the sorcerer and the wizard had the least interesting feat selection. Bonus feats just seem to stretch an already thin selection.

With the exception of the Fighter, bonus feats always seem like the kind of thing which is added to a class when nobody can think of anything better to give it. So it seems odd to me that they weren’t thrown out when everybody realized the wizard was insanely overpowered and needed to be scaled back in Pathfinder.

In Conclusion: With the Wizard, I’ve completed my look at the 11 core classes in Pathfinder. I hope you’ve enjoyed reading it even half as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it, because these were really fun, even if it wasn’t the most serious-minded analysis. Writing about what I want from each class has helped me better understand what I want from a tabletop RPG. I think I’ll be better at developing my own ideas now, having identified what I liked and disliked about these.

As I’ve mentioned in the past, I’d like to write similar posts about the non-core base classes. Paizo has done a good job on them, and hasn’t gone overboard the way Wizards did with 3rd edition. But after two solid weeks, I think everybody could use a break!

Pathfinder Class Analysis 10: Sorcerer

Core Concept: While the sorcerer is objectively more limited than the wizard, I like the class. Even in the earliest, simplest forms of D&D, playing a Magic User meant taking on an extra layer of rules and complexity. There’s not much that can be done about that, but the sorcerer’s limitations go a long way towards mitigating it. For that reason, I often recommend sorcerers to my less experienced players who want to play a magical character.

Were it up to me, I think there might even be a few more variants on the magic user class, all of which would interact with magic in a different way.

Spells: Unlike the more traditional magic user / wizard style of spellcasting, the sorcerer is a ‘natural’ caster. They know the spells they know, and can cast any spell they know at any time, but they can’t add to their spell repertoire the way a wizard can. In trade, the sorcerer is able to cast more spells per day than their more learned counterpart. Back in D&D 3.5, this trade was terribly unbalanced in the wizard’s favor. Fortunately, bloodlines have helped to balance this out.

As mentioned above, I like the idea that different arcane spellcasting classes would manage their spells differently. Though I might take it even a step further. Perhaps granting the sorcerer a few more spells per day, a few more spell slots, and make all of their spells completely random. After all, if their power is a naturally developing thing, why should they be able to pick and choose?

Of course, that would never fly with most RAW Pathfinder players.

Find Familiar: This is not a sorcerer ability, which is why it is not linked. I bring it up because in D&D 3.5, it was a sorcerer ability. To my knowledge, this is the only instance where a class had an ability removed* in the change from D&D 3.5 to Pathfinder. Likely because Bloodlines are such a large change which grant the sorcerer a large range of additional powers.

While it is still possible to get a familiar, I rather prefer the class without it. As a friend of mine said shortly after we found Pathfinder, familiars never seemed to be in tune with the way sorcerers approach magic. A familiar, in our eyes, is primarily meant to assist the caster in magical research, which the sorcerer never needs to do. And bloodlines are so awesome, that it hardly feels like anything was lost at all.

*I am well aware that the Rogue had the Improved Evasion ability removed, but it remains as a rogue talent**, so it’s still easily attainable without needing feats.
**I am also well aware that sorcerers may select the arcane bloodline and thus get their familiar without needing a feat. However, doing so requires you to make a choice which will dramatically change the way your character progresses, whereas the rogue can pick up improved evasion and move on. There are no long-lasting consequences for getting improved evasion as there would be for a sorcerer who wanted a familiar.

Eschew Materials: Sorcerers cast their spells naturally, so it would be cumbersome for them to deal with material components. This works fine.

Cantrips: Anything I might say about cantrips was already written about Orsions in my analysis of the Cleric. Though I would add the caveat that the sorcerer is the only class where limitless low level casting actually kinda makes sense. I could be okay with the sorcerer having this ability if every other magic using class did not have it.

Bloodlines: Most of the sorcerer’s class abilities fall within the bloodlines, so I’ll be discussion bloodline skills, arcana, powers, spells, and feats individually. However, as a general concept, it’s important to know that I think bloodlines are a great idea. In D&D 3rd edition, the origin of a Sorcerer’s power was given a bit of throwaway fluff text about how sorcerers are descended from dragons, but that this might be true or might simply be something sorcerers like to boast about.

The Pathfinder devs took that piece of throwaway fluff, and developed it into an interesting mechanic which further differentiates sorcerers from wizards. And while I’m not always wild about the specific ways in which bloodlines are implemented, they’re still awesome.

Bloodline Skill: Each bloodline grants the sorcerer one additional class skill, relevant to the bloodline. Much as I dislike the skills system, this seems like a creative way to use it.

Bloodline Powers: The powers are my favorite part of the bloodlines. I think that if it were up to me, spells and feats would be dropped, and bloodline powers would be emphasized further. The specific powers are rarely filler nonsense, but are instead interesting abilities, such as elemental resistance, long limbs which grant extra range on touch attacks, a breath weapon, wings, or any number of other interesting oddities. I also think it’s cool that some of the powers aren’t perfectly suited to a sorcerer. A claw attack, for example, doesn’t really help someone who does their best to stay out of melee. But having an odd ability here or there can really come in handy when the characters are in a pinch.

Bloodline Arcana: The arcana abilities are really just Bloodline Powers which permanently modify a normal sorcerer ability, rather than introducing something new. What is written above applies, though these often enter “filler ability” territory, where they merely grant a small bonus in a very particular circumstance which most players will forget about during play.

Bloodline Spells: Bloodline spells are similar to a cleric’s domain spells. I hate domain spells, because they’re an extra layer of pointless complication which doesn’t improve the player’s gameplay experience in the slightest. That being said, bloodline spells work a little better than domain spells do. Since sorcerers don’t have to prepare their spells each day, but instead have a permanent list of spells which they ‘know’ and may cast at will, the bloodline spells don’t significantly increase the bookkeeping the player needs to do. They just write the spells on their spell list when they level up.

This still seems a little annoying to me, though. Perhaps it’s just a personal peeve, but I think it’s annoying to get the same thing (in this case, spells) from multiple sources (in this case, leveling up & bloodlines).

Though if sorcerers had their spells randomized, as I suggested earlier, then Bloodline spells could serve as a way for the player to have some control over how their character’s spell list developed.

Bloodline Feats: They’re feats. We all know how I feel about feats by now, right? Though I do kinda like that some of these feats are completely different from anything a sorcerer would normally pursue. Seriously, “Cleave” is in there at least once.

Pathfinder Class Analysis 9: Rogue

Core Concept: In ages long past, when the world was shrouded in the mist of ignorance and I was but a young boy, my very first D&D character was a rogue named Tarin Resche. I’ve still got his character sheet. Once that campaign ended and it was time to begin another, my next character was also a rogue, as was the following character, and even the character after that. To say I like rogues would be an understatement. This is my class, and I love it. It took me a long time to branch out into trying other classes, though I did eventually do that.

The rogue/thief class is perfectly suited to the fantasy adventure genre. They’re not big and strong, nor are they magically adept. They’re not good at staring danger in the face. What they do know how to do is how to avoid danger in the first place. Which, consequently, is why I can’t stand playing rogues in most video games. For me, the point of playing a rogue is to skillfully avoid danger. In a video game, typically you can only level up if you charge headlong into danger.

The rogue is actually quite simple for a Pathfinder class, with a scant 9 abilities, compared with classes like the monk which have more than 20. So this’ll be pretty brief.

Sneak Attack: In Pathfinder, I think it’s a little too easy to get a sneak attack. But this balances out, because sneak attack doesn’t actually deal all that much damage. So you might say that the sneak attack ability works, it just doesn’t work the way I’d want it to. I’d much prefer sneak attack to require careful planning on the part of the player, and for the damage it deals to be a probable 1-hit-kill.

Trapfinding: To be honest, I kinda hate trapfinding. Not because there’s anything wrong with it, but because it’s so damn skill-ish. Rogues should have a leg up on finding and disabling traps, no question. I just wish Pathfinder didn’t rely on the skills system to do it.

Evasion: It’s hilarious that out of all the classes which have Evasion / Improved Evasion, the rogue is the only one which doesn’t automatically receive the improved version. I know it’s available as an optional talent, but this still seems backwards to me.

Rogue Talents / Advanced Talents: The rogue makes up for its rather paltry list of 9 abilities by having these “talents” which allow the player to customize the class. Some of them are quite interesting, and if I wanted to delve into the talents in detail, discussing which are good and which are bad, this post could easily be 3k or 4k words long. But I won’t do that. I’m not even going to devote much space to discussing them in general, because they’re just re-branded feats. Sometimes literally.

I’ll grant that few or none of the rogue talents fall prey to my problem with feats, where the ability granted is something any character should be able to attempt anyway. None the less it’s a huge list of abilities which the player has to select from, which Pathfinder has too much of already.

Trap Sense: I always get this one mixed up with Trapfinding, which is probably because of three things. First, they have similar names. Second, they seem like a pretty basic rogue ability. Third, they both seem far more complicated than they need to be. Though I’ll grant that Trap Sense (bonus to reflex saves and AC against traps) is less annoying than Trapfinding (Bonus to preception and disable device checks against traps).

While I’m on the subject, why is “Trapfinding” one word, but “Trap Sense” is two?

Uncanny Dodge / Improved Uncanny Dodge: While these are solid abilities, I don’t know if I like their inclusion. I understand the logic behind them. The rogue is very dextrous and has a high level of situational awareness, thus they cannot be caught flat footed, and cannot be flanked. But I think my dislike for them stems from my dislike of the way sneak attack works in Pathfinder. In both cases, Pathfinder represents the rogue’s situational awareness mechanically, while I prefer for it to be represented with the player’s own ability to play their character cautiously.

As I said, though, these are solid abilities. I’m really just nitpicking about my own preferences.

Master Strike: The target can either be put to sleep, paralyzed, or killed outright, pending the result of a fortitude save. It’s a respectable capstone ability, without anything I really want to comment on.

This may have been the most boring class analysis yet, which isn’t what I wanted for my favorite class in the game. But I guess I just don’t have much to say about these abilities.

Pathfinder Class Analysis 8: Ranger

Core Concept: Who, honestly, doesn’t love rangers? They’re the loner badasses that we all role played as back when we were more interested in power fantasies than we were with a challenging game. But unlike our characters who never left the shadowy corner of the bar (save when they were killing people with an impossibly fast, double-bladed sword slice to the throat), rangers are at least a little grounded.

You know, much as I love magic users, I think the classes I find the most personally appealing are the grittier ones. The ones with dirt under their fingernails and callouses on their hands. The fighters, the rangers, the rogues.

Which is funny because I’m a pudgy guy who avoids sunlight, dislikes manual labor, and has frequently been accused of having ‘lady hands.’

Favored Enemy: More than anything else, the favored enemy mechanic defines the ranger class for me. It’s perfectly suited to a fantasy world’s exaggeration of a hunter, and it provides each ranger with an interesting motivation.

It’s also totally xenophobic, but in an awesome way.

Track: Like favored enemy, the ability to track an inherent part of the ranger class. Unfortunately, Pathfinder ties it into the broken skills system, which in turn breaks this ability. And while I think it’s valuable for track to have a failure chance, there’s no need to make it as complicated as the skills system.

I’d prefer something on order of using scaling dice for difficulty. 1d12 for easy, 1d10 for moderately difficult, 1d8 for very difficult, and 1d6 for hard. The GM picks a number within the die’s range, and the player rolls that die. If they land on the number the GM was thinking of, the GM gives them the wrong direction. If they land on any other number, the ranger succeeds. No checking the character sheet for bonuses, or trying to figure out what bonuses apply to which action. Just a single, quick, die roll.

Wild Empathy: Wild Empathy suffers from the same issue that Track does. It’s good that a ranger is able to soothe wild beasts and become friendly with them, it’s a bad thing that this ability must be tied to the broken skills system.

As an idea, assume that reaction is being handled with an oldschool 2d6 reaction roll. If the creature is a wild animal, a ranger may attempt to empathize with the animal, which would call for a second reaction roll, and the better of the two would be used. Starting at 3rd level, the ranger could add 1/3 of their level to the second reaction roll. (+1 at 3rd level, +2 at 6, so on until reaching +6 at level 18).

Combat Style Feat: This one makes me feel conflicted. On the one hand, I’ve reached a point where I honestly don’t like having the player make choices about their build. I’ve found that basically no player I’ve ever played with actually likes it. Most view it as a chore, while only an obsessive few (like me) ever claim to have fun ‘working on their build.’

On the other hand, this is a very simple, very cool choice which must only be made once, and has a dramatic effect on the character’s progress: do you want to be a two-handed fighter, or an archer? It’s also relevant to note that (unlike most character build choices) this decision is not about comparing specific abilities, it’s about defining the type of character you want to play.

With a gun to my head*, I’d say this is a pretty good ability.

*It sounds more interesting than “With a self-imposed deadline to my head.”

Endurance: The feat is well suited to rangers, though it’s stupidly complicated. It gives so many minor and circumstantial bonuses that I doubt anyone ever remembers to use anything other than the ability to sleep in armor without becoming fatigued. Which, to be fair, makes good sense for the ranger.

Favored Terrain: Hands down, one of the best changes made in the switch to Pathfinder. Holy fuck on a fucka-fuck, do I love favored terrain. This is on par with the fighter’s ability to become more proficient in the use of armor.

Hunter’s Bond: There’s not a lot to say about this ability which I haven’t already said before. It’s another ability which asks the player to choose between a pet, or something easier to track than a pet. My response is the same as it was for the Druid and the Paladin: make pets simpler.

To make matters worse, the ranger’s alternative to a pet is essentially the same as the Paladin ability “Aura of Justice,” which I also didn’t like. So that’s just stacking bad on top of bad.

Spells: As I mentioned in the Paladin analysis yesterday, there’s no reason for rangers to have spells. Rangers are men and women of great skill, not of magic. I would even argue that ranger spells diminishes the class, because it implies that all ranger abilities might be somehow bolstered by magic.

Even the most popular modern representation of a ranger, the much-maligned Drizzt Do’Urden, has no magical abilities. And he’s explicitly a ranger within a Dungeons and Dragons game world.

Woodland Stride: Rangers ignore underbrush. This is a good mechanic, no change needed.

Swift Tracker: This ability fails to impress me, but only because it builds on the parts of the tracking ability which I didn’t like. The parts which intersect with the broken skills system. It’s easy to implement into my own system. “If the player moves at their normal speed when tracking, the GM selects two adjacent numbers which would cause failure if rolled. Once a ranger gains the swift tracking ability, this penalty is removed.”

Evasion / Improved Evasion: Holy crap, how many frickin’ classes have this ability? I seriously have nothing to say about it at all. Cut me a break here, Paizo.

Quarry /Improved Quarry: I actually like these abilities. They connect well with other elements of the ranger class, and strengthen the theme of the hunter. But I have one very important question: how do they work? Because they they’re explicitly not magical [they’re marked with (Ex), which means extraordinary ability, which means not magical]

It’s understood how favored enemy works. The character has studied that type of creature, and knows its strengths and weaknesses. But what happens in the space of a standard action (or free action!) which allows the ranger to gain further bonuses against their officially designated Quarry?

Are they noticing a fighting pattern, and a specific way the quarry walks? Is that where they get attack and tracking bonuses from?

Camouflage / Hide in Plain Sight: While these two abilities aren’t really all that similar, I have pretty much the same thing to say about them. They both work sufficiently well, though would be improved by not being tied to the skills system.

Master Hunter: When I first read Pathfinder, I came away with the impression that at level 20, every class gains some manner of ‘instant death’ attack. In re-reading each class for these analyses, I’ve found that impression was more than a little off base. Certainly many classes have a death attack, but many (even most) do not. In fact most capstone abilities are pretty flavorful, and the ranger’s is no different. It’s essentially an instant “knockout” attack, useful if the player wishes to capture rather than kill. I like it!

Pathfinder Class Analysis 7: Paladin

Core Concept: I like paladins. They’re a weird kind of super-cleric which would be more at home in a noblebright setting than a sword-and-sorcery one. They contribute interestingly to the game as the middle ground between the fighter and the cleric, though they are not completely without their problems. I’ve actually written several posts with my thoughts on paladins before, though primarily these works have been with regards to the code of conduct.

Aura of Good: As mentioned in the cleric analysis, this seems so trivial as to be pointless.

Detect Evil: I like at will abilities. It would be interesting, as a design goal, for every ability to be an at will ability, except for the casting of spells by spellcasters. Things are much simpler when the player doesn’t need to track their uses in a given day. Aside from that, Detect Evil is a good ability for Paladins to have, though I wonder if it can be too much of a crutch. Wouldn’t it be interesting if a Paladin had to judge good and evil without the benefit of a detection spell?

Then again, this isn’t a game about moral philosophy, so that might not be a good idea, despite being an interesting one.

Smite Evil: Smite Evil is awesome. Despite the large-ish amount of math it requires, it’s surprisingly elegant in its construction. None of the numbers are arbitrary, they’re all drawn from numbers which are already somewhere else on the character’s sheet. Add Cha bonus to attack rolls, paladin level to damage rolls, and Cha bonus again to the Paladin’s AC against the character being smitten. (Smited?)

Also, apparently smite remains active until a creature is dead. Until re-reading the ability just now, I had always thought it only lasted for a single attack.

Divine Grace: While I might normally call something like this a filler ability, this is actually pretty great. Like smite, it doesn’t pull a random number out of thin air, and unlike most similar abilities received by the other classes, it applies to all saves, not a specific save, or (worst of all) a specific type of specific save. Like “will save to resist enchantment” or “fortitude save to resist poison.” No, divine grace boosts all saves.

And since a paladin is a warrior chosen by the gods, it would make sense that the gods are keeping an eye on them.

Lay On Hands: Given that this ability can only be used a number of times per day equal to 1/2 the paladin’s level, I wouldn’t mind if it were a little more potent. Perhaps 1d10 healing every 2 levels, so it kept pace as being able to heal 1/2 of the Paladin’s HP. Or maybe, instead of that, it could be used a number of times per day equal to 1/6 the characters level (minimum 1) but it heals the target up to their full hit points.

Aura of Courage: I like the idea of aura abilities. I think they’re a great idea, and I think the Paladin (as the noble, god-ordained leader type) is a great class to serve as a vehicle for auras. Courage, is a good one, though I think it might be better if those within the Paladin’s aura were actually immune to fear, rather than simply gaining a +4 bonus to fear.

Divine Health: The Paladin’s body is pure because the gods love him or her. Thus the Paladin cannot get disease. Seems like something the gods might have thought to give the rest of us, but it’s cool. I get it. They love their paladins more.

Mercy: Mercies are probably the biggest addition to the Paladin class in Pathfinder. Every few levels, the paladin selects from a list of possible “mercies,” which grows larger as the paladin rises in level. A mercy removes an affliction from the victim, and all mercies are applied anytime the paladin uses their lay on hands ability. The lower level mercies deal primarily with minor ‘status ailments,’ such as staggered, fatigued, or dazed. Higher level mercies remove curses and poison, and can even cure the blind or the paralyzed.

Generally speaking, I don’t like it when the game adds yet more things for the players to choose between. Not only must they choose feats and skills and bonus feats and what have you, but now they need to worry about mercies as well? It’s enough to overwhelm anyone who doesn’t thoroughly enjoy character building.

That being said, I think mercies are a great idea and I’m glad they were included. Perhaps they could be rolled randomly to cut down on the choices characters need to make.

Channel Positive Energy: While I like the change from “Turn Undead” to “Channel Positive Energy” for clerics, I’m less inclined to like it for Paladins. While clerics serve a healing focus as well as a crusading one, paladins are all-crusade-all-the-time. Something like “Turn Evil” which affects evil outsiders and undead might be more apropos.

Spells: As mentioned in the Bard analysis, I don’t like that 7 out of the 11 core classes gain spells at some point. I would not be sorry to see the paladin lose their spellcasting ability, though I wouldn’t go so far as to advocate it. Among the non-primary spellcasting classes, I think Paladins probably have the greatest claim on their spellcasting being appropriate. The bard has music, which should replace magic entirely. The ranger’s magical abilities make almost no sense. But the Paladin is pretty much a cleric / fighter cross class, so it makes sense that they’d have access to a small number of spells.

Divine Bond: This is basically the same issue that I addressed in the Druid class analysis, under nature bond. Pathfinder presents the players with a choice: gain an animal companion, or a cool ability. The choice was created (I think) because companion animals are frustratingly complex to manage, and Paizo wanted to offer an alternative. My solution remains the same as it was for Nature Bond: make companion animals simpler.

Though calling down the spirit of an outsider into your sword is pretty damned cool. I wouldn’t mind if both the mount and the spirit-sword managed to find their way into la

Aura of Resolve, Aura of Righteousness: These are identical to Aura of Courage, except is is for Charm/Compulsion spells instead of Fear. I feel exactly the same about these as I do about Aura of Courage. Also, high level damage reduction is fine, though probably excessive.

Aura of Justice: This doesn’t really feel like a proper aura to me. Giving your allies a special form of attack to use can be interesting, but in my mind an aura should be a consistent effect. Furthermore, as a matter of pure preference, I don’t like the idea of non-paladins being given the ability to smite. Smite is a gift from the gods, entrusted to the paladin to be used wisely. Why would the gods allow the paladin to give it someone unworthy on a whim?

Aura of Faith: Like Justice, this doesn’t really strike me as a proper aura. However, it does seem perfectly reasonable for a Paladin’s attacks to be treated as good aligned. I might have called it something else, but I approve of the mechanics!

Holy Champion: As capstone abilities go in Pathfinder, this one is pretty bad ass. Casting a Banishment spell with a swing of your sword? Fuck yeah.

Code of Conduct: I’ve written on this extensively in the past, and most of what I said remains true to how I feel. To briefly reiterate: I think the Code of Conduct needs to be more clear. There should be no ambiguity about what actions will break a Paladin’s code of conduct; for the sake of the GM as much as for the player. I also think it’s ridiculous for the Paladin to be forced to travel only with good characters. I understand why this is the case, but no class’s abilities should even make the player feel entitled to demand that the rest of the group all act a certain way.

It would be interesting if the code of conduct were modular. Perhaps a list of 10 Paladin Oaths, of which the player must select 3 to keep sacred.

Ex Paladins: I miss the blackguard.

Pathfinder Class Analysis 6: Monk

Core Concept: Of the 11 core classes, the monk is the only one which I honestly wish was not part of the game. Which is funny, because in terms of the mechanics, it actually gets a lot of things right which the other classes get wrong. But mechanics aren’t everything. Flavor and style are also important, and in that respect my tastes lean towards the pretentious. Ninjas riding robotic sharks with laser eyes sounds “awesome” in a silly way, but it’s not the kind of thing I enjoy investing my time with. For me, fantasy is the most fun when it’s somewhat grounded, and stylistically consistent.

In every respect, Pathfinder and D&D are stylistically linked to medieval Europe. Every respect, that is, except where the monk class is involved. When weapons or coins are shown in the art, they’re always shown in a western style; save for monk weapons. There are no non-european armor styles present in the core rulebook. No other class which does not descend from a European archetype. Hells, even the word “monk” refers primarily to members of western religious orders, not to highly disciplined martial artists.

The influences of other cultures begin to appear more prominently in supplemental materials. The Bestiary 3 is filled with monsters inspired by Asian mythologies. But that in itself goes towards my point: Paizo filled two bestiaries before they got around to Asia for inspiration.

If the game were multicultural from the start, that would be another thing. If the core rulebook’s classes and equipment and art and magic pulled from cultures all over the world, then I wouldn’t mind the monk so much. Of course, I don’t want to ruin anybody’s good time. D&D originated as a silly game which had no pretentious about how serious it was. And while I think many people feel as I do about the importance of a consistent tone, that’s no reason that others can’t enjoy the monk. But you probably won’t find them in any game I run.

Now, most of the time, I analyze a class’s abilities based on my personal vision of how the class should work. But since I don’t think this class should exist at all, I can’t really do that. Instead I’ll judge each ability by what I think most people want from a monk class. As I mentioned above, I think the class’s mechanics are some of the best in the game. I really have nothing to say about many of these abilities, because they’re good just how they are.

Hopefully the hate-fueled preamble will make up for any blandness in the analysis itself.

(For the record, my hatred of the monk class is actually what originally inspired me to start the Pathfinder Class Analysis series).

AC Bonus: Monks add their wisdom bonus to their armor class because wisdom represents situational awareness, and monks can block swords and arrows with their arms, legs, or by twisting their body to avoid harm. This is a great, elegant mechanic.

Flurry of Blows: A few different monk abilities call for the monk to use their level in place of their base attack bonus. Perhaps I am missing the point, but this seems really confusing for no good reason. Why not simply give the monk a higher base attack bonus? Or let them use the base attack bonus they’ve been given? This is doubly confusing when combined with the fact that the monk receives bonuses and penalties to these abilities on top of having a different base attack bonus.

At level 1, the Monk’s base attack bonus is 0. But when using flurry of blows, they should treat their base attack bonus as though it was equal to their level, so for the purposes of this attack, their BAB is 1. However, the attack is made at a -1/-1 penalty, which negates the improved BAB. Why do I need to do that much math just to find out nothing is different!?

Flurry of blows is a sensible way to represent monk fighting style, but the actual mechanic needs to be simplified dramatically. How about something like “The monk can make a number of attacks per round equal to 1/3 their level, plus 1.”

Bam. Class improved.

Unarmed Strike: This is good and appropriate and I have no problems with it, save those I will address when discussing the Ki pool.

Bonus Feat: I haven’t counted, but off the top of my head I think the Monk has more class abilities than any other class in the game. Was it necessary to add bonus feats on top of that? The reason the fighter class has bonus feats is because fighters are intended as a kind of ‘blank slate’ class, where the players fill in their own fighting style. The monk is quite the opposite; the style has been thoroughly defined already. 

Stunning Fist: Part of the fantasy monk schtick are secret punches which can freeze a person in place or make them sick. Stunning fist serves this role well.

Evasion / Improved Evasion: I don’t think I realized just how many classes have these two class abilities before I started this series. It fits here as well as it fits on the rogue or the barbarian. I have no complaints about its inclusion as a monk ability.

Fast Movement: As mentioned in the analysis of the barbarian class, I would actually like to see more movement speed bonuses and penalties in the game. I think it’s one of the most interesting considerations of tactical, grid-based combat. Yet it very rarely comes up after a player selects their race. I’ve never run a game for a high level monk, but I’ve always been a little curious to see how a player would use a movment rate of 90ft per round.

Maneuver Training: Like flurry of blows, this mechanic calls for the monk to use their level in place of their BAB. Like flurry of blows, I ask: why?

Still Mind: This is a filler ability. It’s fiddly and small, and only complicates an already cluttered character sheet. It could be removed, and nothing would be lost.

Ki Pool: I don’t really like tracking “power points” in tabletop RPGs. I don’t like tracking spells that way. It’s one of the reasons I’ve never liked any of the psionic stuff produced for D&D 3.x. It tends to make things more messy, rather than any simpler. Plus, most of the stuff Ki is used for seems silly to me. It can be used to make unarmed strikes magical and law aligned. Why isn’t that simply a default built into the character as it levels up? It can be used for a temporary boost of speed, but the monk already receives huge speed boosts. It can be used to gain a dodge bonus to AC, but isn’t that what the monk’s wisdom bonus to AC is for?

Aside from the basic stuff, the monk later gains a few abilities which use Ki points, but I don’t see why those couldn’t simply have daily uses like most class abilities have. I suppose, given the many abilities the monk has, that it might actually be easier to track points than it would be to track the daily uses of a half dozen class abilities. But meh.

I’m somewhat undecided on whether Ki is good or bad. But I’m not a huge fan of it, either way.

Slow Fall: This allows the player to do a cool thing, rather than simply allowing the player to try a cool thing. It’s a method of game design that I approve of.

High Jump: Instead of a bonus to acrobatics checks made to high jump,  think this ability would be much more interesting if it simply allowed monks to jump straight up a number of feet equal to their level. So at level 5 when the ability is acquired, monks can leap 5ft straight up into the air.

Granted, since that’s an acrobatics check of 20, it’s not actually that impressive in Pathfinder. But I hold that’s the fault of the skills system for making high jumps too easy in the first place.

Purity of Body / Diamond Body: As the monk gains greater control of their body, they gain perfect resistance against ailments of the body. Cool cool cool. There’s really only so many ways that I can say an ability is good!

Wholeness of Body: Aside from my stated issues with Ki, I have no problem with the monk being able to heal themselves a small amount. It fits within the ‘mastery of body’ trope.

Abundant Step: While I find this kind of weird and out of place, I don’t neccesarily have a problem with monks gaining access to dimensional door. I imagine it’s meant to combine the idea of moving fast, with the idea of monks having spiritual power.

Diamond Soul: I’d actually like to see spell resistance show up more often in the game, so this ability works for me. Particularly since it fits in with the idea that monks are perfect masters of their own body.

Quivering Palm: “The Death Touch!” is a cliche as old as martial arts fantasy. While I think the concept is kinda schlocky, you can’t really make a fantasy monk class without including it. Particularly when most Pathfinder classes have some kind of instant death ability, though usually they get it at level 20, not level 15.

Timeless Body: As the monk’s supernatural control of the body grows, it is only logical that they would begin to slow the effect that time has on them. This fits particularly well with the classic trope of the super old martial arts master who can beat the crap out of anyone.

Tongue of the Sun and Moon: Presumably, based on the description, this ability allows the character to speak with anyone, regardless of what language they speak, or whether they can speak language at all. I don’t really see what this has to do with monks, but I also have no real problem with it. It’s an interesting ability which will have minimal impact on the game since it doesn’t show up until level 17.

Empty Body: Again, this ability works decently well for the monk. The ability to enter into an ethereal state for a short while is in keeping with the idea that the monk gains a supernatural control over their own body.

Perfect Self: This is a respectable capstone ability. The central idea of a monk’s training is perfection of the body, so to perfect one’s body to the point of being considered a lawful outsider is pretty cool.

Ex-Monks: Is it just me, or is it strange that there are a half dozen variants for evil paladins, but no such variant for chaotic monk? That seems like a huge oversight to me. A monk who breaks the law and loses the respect of their peers could become a Chaos Monk, with an entirely different philosophy and set of mystical abilities.

Simple Skill System, Type II

This past September I proposed a system I called Streamlined Skill Rolls. I thought it was a pretty solid idea, though it wouldn’t be a stretch to call it derivative. Earlier today I was pondering various means by which the Pathfinder character creation process could be simplified, and I ended up formulating an entirely different simplified skill system. I woulnd’t use it for Pathfinder, but I could certainly see myself implementing it in a new game.

Since I’ve created another one of these before, but this one is not related to the other in the slightest, I’ll call it “Type II.”

When a character wishes to perform an action which needs to be resolved by dice, but they have no ability to determine the method by which they perform that action, success or failure is resolved by a roll-under ability check. For example, if a character with 15 strength wishes to lift a large stone, they roll 1d20. On 15 or less, they succeed. On 16 or more, they fail. (For really large rocks, the GM might penalize them with a +1 or more on their roll).

The game has a list of such skills. For lack of a better list, we can use the reduced pathfinder skill list I ended up with at the conclusion of my Skills Overview. At first level, characters may select a number of skills from this list equal to their Intelligence bonus, with a minimum of 0. Rogues and bards, as the jack-of-all-trades classes, are each allowed to pick 2 additional skills beyond the ones their intelligence grants them. A character’s skills may be chosen at character creation, or during gameplay, at the player’s option.

When making a roll-under ability check relating to that skill, the player receives a bonus of -1 on their roll. Characters cannot choose the same skill multiple times to receive stacking bonuses. Once chosen, the skills remain unchanged until level 5.

At level 5, the players are again allowed to select a number of skills equal to their intelligence, with rogues and bards again being allowed to select an additional 2. The player has the option of selecting new skills, or of selecting their previous skills again, gaining a -2 bonus in those skills. This process repeats every 5 levels.

I haven’t determined how broad the skills should be with this stystem. On the one hand, if something is going to be itemized, I think the list should be kept short. On the other hand, if the players are allowed to simply select any ability they want (with a note about the appropriate broadness in the book), then the potential number of skills could be endless, and I find that somewhat interesting. If lifting and pulling are different skills, then players will be more inclined to pick new skills every 5 levels rather than just grind the ones they have up to the max. On the other hand, you risk emulating the D&D 3rd edition skills system, with its numerous skills that are absolutely pointless.

The major problem I see with this system right away is that automatic success becomes far too simple. That’s why it would never work in Pathfinder, because characters often end up with ability scores of 20+, at which point a roll under ability check cannot fail unless the GM imposes penalties. Even oldschool D&D, with a maximum of 18/100, would allow automatic successes by level 5 when the player is able to gain skills with a -2 bonus.

Maybe it’s okay for some skill checks to be automatic successes, thus rendering the die rolling unnecessary. I do like mechanics which allow players to simply do cool stuff, rather than roll to see if they can do cool stuff. At the same time, I worry a mechanic like this may fly out of control and allow players to do stuff they shouldn’t be able to. Perhaps this system would work better if high rolls represented success, rather than low rolls.

It’s also possible this is a terrible idea. It just sorta came to me, and I thought others might find it interesting.

Fast Playing Skirmishes

Recently the tide turned in the ongoing war between the elves of the Western forest, and the orcs who had settled in the ruins there. A series of defeats has forced the orcs into retreat. Rather than flee North into dwarven lands, or South where they would likely be subjugated by the Lich, they began migrating East, and established three settlements in the north of the Plains of Nalew. No one holds a true claim on this land, though there is a small human settlement, named Overton, at the confluence of the River Nalew and the Drall River.

The humans of Overton have obviously been distressed by this development. They appealed to the elves for aide, but the elves say they have enough orcs to worry about in their own lands, and are not interested in risking lives in solving human problems. To make matters worse, the orcs have recently erected a fourth settlement. This one south of the River Nalew, a day’s ride from Overton itself, and very clearly an encroachment on human territory.

Fortunately, the local adventuring party returned to town about this time. The mayor begged them for help, and they agreed to do what they could to get rid of the orc problem. Unwilling to take such a large force head-on, the players devised a more cunning plan. First, they did some recruiting around town, and found 10 able-bodied adults willing to join them in battle. Second, they approached the elves again, and laid out a plan which would minimize the risk to elven lives. They also reminded the elves that orcs breed fast, and allowing them to settle so close to elven territory would given them the opportunity to re-invade within 10-20 years. The elves agreed to lend the players 30 archers; but only on the condition that the only real risk be to the players.

The lynchpin of the plan was Betsie, the minotauress PC. For the most part, this has been a humans-only campaign, but I allowed one of the players to take control of Betsie when her paladin died and Betsie was the only friendly NPC around. The players figured that the Orcs, as fellow monstrous humanoids, may be inclined to trust Betsie more than they would trust a human. The plan was that Betsie would tell the orcs that the forest west of Nalew had ruins similar to those the orcs had occupied in the Eastern forest, and that ever since the tribe of Gnolls she’d been in charge of had been killed by humans, there was no one there to occupy the territory. (All of this was pretty much true). Further, Betsie would claim, the ruins were filled with treasure, which she would prove with a massive 5000gp diamond the players had recovered from the area.

The player’s hope was that the Orcs would agree, and she could lead each of the four colonies (one by one) into a bottleneck between a large hill and a river, where they’d be ambushed by the humans, elves, and the rest of the party. It was a solid plan. Or, rather, it was an insane plan, but one which met the minimum standard for logical thinking which constitutes a good plan in D&D. Shortly after the plan was made, one of our players had to leave, and we decided to play board games for the rest of the evening.

That was a month ago. I had that long to figure out how to handle the player’s plan. It’s a good enough plan that I didn’t want to simply have it blow up in their faces; at least not by fiat. Assuming that the reaction dice didn’t cause the orcs to attack her on sight, and the player made her case well enough, I figured the plan would go off. (Though no way were the orcs going to be dumb enough to go in one at a time. They were gonna get together with the other three camps, and march in there 100 warriors strong).

So how do I run this scenario? 100 orcs, 30 elves, 10 humans, and 5 PCs. Obviously I don’t want to model a battle with 140 NPCs at the table, because that would take a week and be immensely boring. I do want it to be random though, because that will create a more interesting scenario than one I’ve scripted. Given the small number of forces on each side of the engagement, I do want to track how many die, but I don’t want a battle between NPCs to take up too much of my time. It has to be about the players, and their actions during the combat. Those actions of the players should also have some bearing on the fight’s outcome, though, even if it’s small.

What I eventually came up with was based on the dice chain mechanic of DCC RPG. The chain I used was 1d4, 1d6, 1d8, 1d10, 1d12, 1d14, 1d16, 1d20, 1d24, 1d30. Each round, each of the factions would roll one of these dice against the other factions, killing that many members.

Assuming nothing went wrong with the player’s plan, the first round of combat would be a surprise round from the elves. I assumed they’d have plenty of time to line up their shots, so the opening volley from the elves killed 3d6 + 12 orcs. So most of the elves would make kill shots, but it wouldn’t be able to exceed the actual number of elves participating.

The PC who was in charge of the 10 humans had chosen a position a little removed from the bottleneck, and I told him it would take 1 full round of charging before he could get into position to attack. Once they were able to engage, I figured the humans could kill 1d10 – 2 orcs each round (as these are not trained warriors), and the orcs could kill 1d10 humans each round.

Starting on the second round (after the surprise) the orcs could kill 1d4-2 elves each round, with a result of 0 or less meaning they still had not spotted any elves. While the elves, now dealing with the chaos of battle rather than a well timed ambush, would be able to kill 1d30 each round.

While all of this was going on, the players would be in the thick of the battle. Each round they faced off against several different orcs (I invented 6-8 variant orcs to keep things interesting). These death-rolls would be be made openly between each round of combat, so the players could see how the battle was progressing around them.

The majority of play time during the battle was focused on the players, with brief interludes between each round while I rolled to see which combatants on each side had died. As the battle progressed, the ‘kill dice’ I rolled were modified by several factors:

  • No faction can ever roll a die with a potential to result in more kills than there are attackers. For example, the elves can continue to roll a d30 for as long as there are 30 elves, but once an elf dies, they move down 1 space on the die chain, to 1d24.
  • Once the orcs score their first kill against the elves, they’ve figured out how to spot the elves and jump up to a full 1d4 on the die chain.
  • Each round, as the elven positioning is further revealed, the orcs roll a die which is one higher up on the die chain.
  • Each orc the players kill will be matched by the elves, who gain a +1 on their kill roll. The result cannot exceed the number of remaining attackers.
  • Any PC knocked to 0HP or lower, or who flees from the fight, will give give the orcs a boost of 1 extra step up the die chain.
  • If the PCs successfully kill 5 orcs in a single round, the elves will rally and receive a +10 to their kill roll.
  • Once any of the 3 factions is reduced below 20 members standing, roll a 1d20 morale check each round. If the result is equal to or lower than the number of fighters standing, the faction will press on. If the result is higher, then the faction will break and flee from the battlefield.

These rules only took me about 20 minutes to come up with, but it seemed like a solid method of running a skirmish like this. And it did work pretty well in play, though I did end up straying from the plan a few times when I lost track of what had happened. The players did succeed in slaying the orcs, though with only 10 elves left alive they may want to watch their back if they ever venture into the Western forest again.

Any of my readers have a better method of running a battle like this one?

A Defense of Knowledge Skills

While my recent posts on skills have focused on crafting skills, I haven’t forgotten that my stated intent was not just to rebuild Pathfinder’s crafting from the ground up, but also to rebuild Pathfinder’s knowledge skill. Knowledge, however, is a much more controversial type of skill than crafting is. And even crafting had to be defended against the argument that it should not be included in the game!

In this post I will make the argument that knowledge skills have their place. I don’t think they belong in a retroclone, or in a rules light game, but that doesn’t mean they are completely without value. Their presence in the Pathfinder ruleset is justified, even if I think it ought to be implemented better. I also hope that through this attempt to articulate a logical support of knowledge skills, I can gain a clearer picture of what is important and what is not for when I move on to designing my own version of this mechanic.

I’m familiar with two important arguments against the existence of Knowledge Skills:

  1. By forcing players to make a successful knowledge check before receiving information, knowledge skills create an environment where the GM often fails to communicate information which the players should be given freely. Players may not be given knowledge that their character should have.
  2. A game where knowledge is a mechanical ability of the character, rather than something possessed by the player, creates a gaming environment where the importance of the player’s skill is reduced. The player is not allowed to use knowledge which their character “wouldn’t have.”

Taken together, these arguments might seem like a case of wanting to have your cake, and eat it to. If the players don’t know something and the GM is supposed to tell them what their character would know; why then also should the player be able to turn around and use information their character wouldn’t know? The answer is quite simple, if somewhat flippant: because we’re playing a game. Our primary goal is not to embark upon a profound exploration of the characters we’re playing. D&D and Pathfinder are not, as -C has put it, an activity for those with thespian aspirations.  Perhaps that’s what you’re doing, and if so I truly hope you enjoy it. But that’s not something I’m interested in writing about.

In a game, the player is expected to play to the best of their ability. They bring their experience and their knowledge to the table, and they’re also provided with information about the games rules, and how it functions.

But I’ve diverged from the point of this post. The fact is, depending on how Pathfinder’s knowledge rules are interpreted, both of the potential problems mentioned above can appear. But they do not have to.

In his analysis of the knowledge skill, Courtney listed three possible types of information, and posits that none of these should ever be hidden behind a successful roll of the dice.

  1. Trivial and of no importance.
  2. Non-vital, but interesting and providing some depth and background to the game.
  3. Crucial.

In reviewing Courtney’s analysis in preparation for writing this post, it occurred to me that there is a fourth type of information. Imagine, for example, that my players have entered a room. It would be trivial of me to mention that the cobblestone floors have cracks in a few of the stones. I could mention to the players that the room smells so bad they can taste the pungent air on their tongues. It’s not vital for me to do so, since the smell does not affect the game, but it does help the players to imagine their environment, which is fun, so why not. It is crucial that I tell the players there are two exits on the north wall, and that there’s a large pile of stones in the corner.

4.  Hidden information.

I should probably not tell the players that there’s a pile of gold under the stones. If they want to learn about that, then they’re going to need to do some work. Like maybe digging through the pile of stones.

 There are two types of hidden information. The kind which can be modeled at the table, and the kind which cannot. The example above of the gold hidden under the pile of stones can easily be modeled at the table. If the players say “I knock over the pile of stones,” then voila, they’ve revealed the hidden information about the gold. However, this room also contains a hidden door on the south wall. The players haven’t seen it, but they’re pretty sure it’s there, because they saw a monster run into this room. There’s no sign of the monster now, and the only other exit from the room is barred from the other side. So they players would like to start searching the walls for hidden doors. At this point, we bring out the dice, because there’s no way for the players to describe how they look at a blank wall for a secret switch.

Based on this, I would say that there are three types of information which might be included in a game.

Player Knowledge is what the player themselves knows. When a black dragon appears, the player knows to ask the wizard if he can borrow that potion of acid resistance, because the player knows that black dragons have acid breath.

Character Knowledge is information the GM freely gives to the player, because the PC would obviously know it. If the player is in their home town and says they want to go to the local pub, the GM can simply tell them that it’s called the Pig and Whistle. When the player decides he wants to become more religious, the GM can identify a few religions the character would be familiar with. There’s no reason to hide that kind of information.

For Skill Check Knowledge, three things should be true. First, it should not be trivial. Second, the game should be equally interesting whether the players know it or not. Third, there should be more than one route to obtaining it. When a fighter encounters magic runes on the door of a crypt, it would not be trivial for that fighter to know whether the runes were arcane or divine. Even if they can’t read it, the type of writing on the outside of the door could provide valuable clues to what’s inside. If they fail to determine the type of writing it is, or even get it wrong, the game will be interesting because they’ll be less prepared for what they encounter within. Whereas if they succeed in determining the rune’s type,  the game will be interesting because the player will have an opportunity to prepare for what they think is within. And, of course, if all else fails they could just go find a wizard or priest and ask them.

Player Agency

Player Agency is a concept I mention frequently, but not one I’ve ever defined for myself. Other bloggers have defined it so well that it feels arrogant of me to even try. Courtney of Hack & Slash (with whom I share many readers) is responsible a definitive work on the subject. Taken together, his writings on player agency could fill a thick chapter in a textbook for game design. Add to that all of the other game designers who have written on the subject, and putting my own thoughts to digital paper begins to seem redundant.

But lets be redundant. Perhaps it’s a waste of text; but at least the exercise will help me organize my own thoughts. If I’m lucky, two or three other people might even benefit from it!

In discussions of ethics there is a term: moral agency. The term is useful in distinguishing between those who are capable of guilt and those who are not. When an alligator kills a person they’ve really done nothing wrong, but when a person kills a person they’ve committed one of the most heinous acts imaginable. What’s the difference? Murderers have moral agency, alligators do not. A moral agent is one who is able to make meaningful decisions about their actions, with regards to right and wrong.

I bring this up because moral agency is easy for us to understand. Even if a person doesn’t grasp the nuanced “philosopheese” definition of moral agency, they still understand in their gut what it means. And starting from that gut-understanding of moral agency, we can begin to understand the more abstract concept of player agency. Moral agency is to ethics, as player agency is to tabletop RPGs. Which leads us to the following definition:

A player with agency is one who is able to make meaningful decisions about their actions, with regards to the game world.

 In practice, this means more than letting  the player control the actions of their character. That’s so obvious as to be trivial, and not worth my time nor anyone else’s to discuss. I’m certain there are terrible GMs out there who will casually exert direct control over their player’s characters; but such absolute disregard for the spirit of the game isn’t a problem I’m interested in addressing.

The far more subtle, and far more relevant issue of player agency is that the choices the players make must be meaningful. If the players are exploring a dungeon and reach a “T” intersection, they’ve been presented with a choice of turning left, or turning right. What they experience beyond this intersection mustdiffer based on their choice if agency is to be maintained. There should be a room which is on the right, and a room which is on the left, and those rooms must be the same before the players make their choice, as they are after the players make their choice.

A few ways agency might be subverted in this situation:

  • Rather than preparing “right” and “left” rooms, the GM has prepared “first” and “second” rooms. Whichever way the players turn, they will enter the “first” room first, and will only be able to visit the “second” room once they’ve already seen the “first” one.
  • The GM wishes for the players to face as certain encounter here. And while it was originally placed in the room on the right, the GM will secretly move it to the room on the left for the sake of maintaining the ‘flow’ they wish to impose on the game.
  • An out-of-place door which cannot be opened, unlocked, bashed down, or damaged at all blocks the players from entering the room the GM wishes for them to visit second. It remains impassable until the players visit the room the GM wanted them to enter in the first place.

These are just a few simple options. I’m sure you can think of more. The above scenario is a textbook example of agency robbing behavior. It is constructed so that the loss of agency is obvious. Unfortunately, not all scenarios where the GM is in a position to steal agency from their players are so clear cut. In fact most are quite subtle.

Consider traps, for example. I recently designed a magical trap which I thought was magnificently clever. So clever, in fact, that I included a cryptic hint about how to overcome it early in the adventure. When my players reached it, however, they stumbled through a loophole I had not considered. They bypassed the trap entirely, without ever engaging with the clever mechanisms I had been so proud of.

It would have been a simple matter to force them to engage with my trap. All I would need to say is something like “Your hammer bounces off the glass without leaving a scratch. Some sorcery has made it stronger than steel!” And in fact, that did occur to me, but I held my tongue. The players had outsmarted me. Forcing them to witness the cleverness of my trap would not be better than the sense of accomplishment they would feel from subverting it entirely.

If retroactive changes are made to the game world in order to invalidate the player’s choices, the players have no agency.

And it’s not as though I can’t use the trap again some day. I doubt I’ll even alter the flaw my players found. I doubt other groups would think of the same plan, but if they did, it would be equally impressive.

Having followed Courtney’s writings on player agency for a long while now, I’ve become familiar with a common response to discussions on the subject. I believe I may have even offered it myself at some time in the past, but have since come to view it as incorrect. Rather than wait for it to be brought up in comments, I’d like to address it here in the post.

“My players don’t know what’s written on my notes, so they won’t know when I change something.”

The common response to this is “You may think they won’t notice, but they will.” And there is some truth to that answer. Players are not stupid. When the ogre is taking a sound beating, then suddenly roars and starts hitting the PCs with twice his previous strength, nobody is fooled. Everybody at the table knows that the GM was frustrated that their monster was dying too quickly, and decided to give the creature a last second boost to their stats.

But I think that response is a little simplistic as well. The truth is, the GM probably can fool their players if they’re quick on their feet and have a good poker face. But just because the players don’t realize they’re being fooled, doesn’t mean the game isn’t being harmed. When every encounter is just the right amount of difficult, when the players can never subvert the mad wizard’s puzzles, when the villain manages to escape at the end of every single encounter…the game becomes stale.

Part of the excitement of tabletop games is the chaos and the unlimited possibilities. When I’m playing a video game, I’ve been given a very limited set of ways to interact with my environment. My solution to every problem must stem from those limited abilities I’ve been given. In a tabletop RPG, I can attempt to solve problems in any way I choose! Perhaps I’m too low level to fight the troll king toe-to-toe, but if I can drop a boulder on his head, why shouldn’t I be able to kill him?

In the era of video games, player agency is what makes tabletop games worth playing.