This is a continuation of the previous essay. The general theme is that while mechanically second edition is pretty solid, the advice that it gave to players was bad, and necessarily led to the destruction of the classic style of play in 3rd edition. For this essay I would like to start by talking about the Assassin class. This is not due to me thinking that the Assassin class is an essential part of the game. In the last part I defined the "core" D&D mechanics as those common to the original rules, 1st Edition and BECMI, but Assassins only appear as a class in 1st Edition. However, the way that 2nd edition treats assassins reveals much about the general philosophy of the edition.
The first thing that is striking about the discussion of assassins in the 2nd edition DMG is how vindictive it seems. Early in the DMG it is said that when considering new classes that things like an assassin should not be considered, since that is not a set of skills but merely requires a "reprehensible outlook." Assassins are necessarily evil, and we are told that PCs should never be evil, so assassins must necessarily be NPCs. When hiring an NPC assassin we are told that "there are no simple tables or formulae to follow." And the majority of the discussion about running assassination attempts revolves around how they should usually fail, with blowback against the players for even daring to attempt such a thing (in the form of the law finding out about their attempt when the assassin fails, or their attempted victim hiring assassins for the PCs.)
All of this may sound reasonable if, like when I first read this rules, you don't have any experience with 1st edition. But if you are familiar with 1st edition this reads as a big FU to Gary Gygax from someone very upset about assassins in 1st edition. For those not in the know, the assassin was a core class in 1st edition (technically a "sub-class" of thief but sub-classes were essentially distinct classes.) Assassins are always evil, but are listed as a PC class, leading to the necessary conclusion that PCs can be evil in 1st edition. There is in fact a table for assassinations (though it should be noted that this is for the chance for the assassin to instantly kill his victim if he surprises them, not for the whole atempt including infiltration and what not to succeed.) Finally, in 1st edition assassins can have a huge impact on the game world; they certainly are not doomed to fail in their attempts. Thus nearly everything written in 2nd edition about the subject amounts to them saying "well we certainly aren't doing what 1st edition is doing!"
This attitude is all the more bizarre when you consider the difference in the general attitude of the designers. As I noted in the last part, Gygax (in 1st edition) is generally quite strict about his pronouncements for the game, likely because he was too lax in the original rules leading to people not playing the game in a way even remotely resembling what he envisoned. In contrast the 2nd edition rules are more lax. Rules are divided into three categories: "core" rules (presumably required for D&D generally), "tournament" rules (required at official events, such as what you'd see in cons) and "optional" rules (not really something intended to be used, but there for people interested in them.) However, even the "core" rules are often discussed with a caveat that the DM should be able to ignore them as appropriate, and that ultimately they are guidelines or helpers rather than absolute rules. We are starting to see "rule 0" form (i.e. that the GM of an RPG can do whatever the hell he wants; for why this is nonsensical see this essay.) Furthermore, in the intro to the DMG, Zeb Cook says that the DM should never feel scared of simply making up rules, and that Gygax himself encouraged everyone to develop AD&D in their own ways. But given all that, why are the rules so against using assassins? If everyone can go their own way, why not have successful assassinations, and even an assassin class, be at least an "optional" rule?
The answer to this question gets to the deeper issues that I want to discuss in this part. In the DMG the following comments are made:
"If the intended victim is an NPC, the DM should decide the effect of the assassination on his game. Sometimes, player characters do these things out of spite. At other times the deed may be motivated by simple greed. Neither of these is a particularly good motive to encourage in a campaign.
If the death of the NPC would result in a major reworking of the campaign for no good reason, consider seriously the idea of making the attempt fail. If the death of the NPC would allow the player characters to by-pass or breeze through an adventure you have planned, then it's not a good idea. Don't just tell the players, "Oh, that'd be bad for the game so you can't even try to knock that guy off." Work the attempt—and its failure—into the storyline."
Consider the implications of the above statements. In the first paragraph we have the DM acting as a policeman for the players. Not only can PCs not be evil, but they should not be greedy or spiteful! Consider how many adventurers have been motivated by nothing other than making it big. When I thik of the quintessential D&D adventure, here's who comes to mind for me:
Lina Inverse, murderhobo extraordinaire. A wizard and bandit-killer who's top motivations are usually:
Yes, she does act as a legitimate hero now and again, but most of the time she's just after treasure and power. If you want a less weeb answer you can find similarly greedy characters in the works of Robert E. Howard, Fritz Leiber and Jack Vance. (More to the point, these actually inspired D&D, rather than Lina who was indirectly inspired by it.) Even Bilbo Baggins was ultimately after a share of a treasure horde! But according to the advice given in 2nd edition, such greed should be discouraged.
More significantly, assasinations are discouraged if they would be significant to the campaign or a major benefit to the players. When can players actually assassinate someone then? The only situations I can think of which are consistent with this advice would be the following:
Note too that the advice tells the DM to effectively forbid certain assassination attempts, but to not tell the players this. Instead the assassination attempt is supposed to go forward, but fail disastrously with the intended victim still alive and the PCs ending up in hot water. Keep in mind that the PCs are still allowed to plan the assassination as normal, but no matter how meticulous and realistic their plans are, they will be doomed to fail if the DM has decreed that their assassination attempt should not be allowed.
And with this we finally get to the rot that festered in 2nd edition and became ubiquitous after that. It involves the role of the DM. What is the primary role of the Dungeon Master? In early editions it is clear: he is supposed to be a referee. In fact, the term "dungeon master" doesn't even appear in the original rules; "referee" is used instead. Even though "Dungeon Master" is now the preferred title in 1st edition, Gygax uses the term "referee" quite frequently in reference to the DM. In 2nd edition the term "referee" is used only in the introduction to role-playing as a concept at the beginning of the Player's Handbook. After that point "Dungeon Master" is used exclusively.
This may seem like a quibble, but it reflects a definite shift in the attitude towards the role of the Dungeon Master/Referree. Remember that Chainmail, and later D&D, grew out of the wargaming franchise. In wargames sometimes a referee is necessary to fairly adjudicate information that must be tracked or decisions which must be made, and which would be unfair for the players to have control over. A simple example of this occurs in Kriegspiel. This is chess, but each player cannot see the other player's pieces, and can only infer where they are by seeing which of their moves capture other pieces, when their own pieces get captured, etc. Clearly someone needs to know where all the pieces are in order to determine when pieces are captured, when check and checkmate occur, and which moves are illegal. It would defeat the point of the game for the players to know, so a referee is required. The DM works much like this. It would defeat the point of exploration for the players to know everything about the gameworld, and it's not fun or fair for them to make decisions for non-PCs, so someone needs to do it, hence a referee. Clearly the DM does more than just referee, even in the original rules, but this is seen as his primary role in the early versions.
In 2nd edition we see a shift to the DM being the most important guy at the table. He is the one who dictates everything in the game, he is the one who makes everything work, and the players should be grateful to him for making it all possible. The role has shifted from referee to story teller. This is a very important shift: when the game has a referee, then players are the ones providing the direction. When the game has a storyteller then the players are just along for the ride in a story directed by someone else. For example, compare these statements from the BECMI basic rules to 2nd edition. First, from BECMI:
"During most of a D&D game, the Dungeon Master leaves the decisions to the players. The DM presents the setting — describing what the characters see, offering choices of actions, and so forth. But the course of the game is determined by the actions of the party, as decided by all the players. The DM can almost relax and enjoy the characters' progress as they explore, make maps, solve puzzles, and so forth"
And from 2nd edition:
" One of the principles guiding this project from the very beginning, and which is expressed throughout this book, is this: The DM has the primary responsibility for the success of his campaign, and he must take an active hand in guiding it. That is an important concept. If you are skimming through this introduction, slow down and read it again. It is crucial you understand what you are getting into.
The DM's "active hand" extends even to the rules. Many decisions about your campaign can be made by only one person: you."
The 2nd edition DMG even begins by addressing the prospective DM as being part of a "very special group of people." You are the one who's special. You are smart, and creative, and everyone will just love to see your campaign world. Since it is your world, you have every right to use your "active hand" to prevent the rabble of the players from ruining it.
Let's take another look at where this attitude shines through in 2nd edition: the discussion of random encounters. One of the "risks" discussed about using random encounters is that they might be too fun. DMs are advised to make treasure lesser for random encounters than for planned encounters. The DMG also says:
"Such an encounter is not a part of the adventure being told; it hasn't been worked into the plot and doesn't advance the conflicts. A random encounter should not be the most exciting event of an adventure. You don't want the players remembering only the random encounter and forgetting the story you worked to create!"
I'd like to start by asking why exactly it's such a big deal if players remeber the random encounter fondly? People defending things like "rule 0" (i.e. "there's no wrong way to play D&D") often do so under the rationale that it's a game and all that matters is having fun. So shouldn't it be a positive if the players have so much fun with a random encounter that they remember it well? Anyone who has played in an RPG group knows that the things that your group talks about for the longest time often are things that were either random or unplanned by the moderator. The grenade that accidentally blew up in the wrong place, the time that the PCs decided to become best buds with a random barman, the crazy adventures that followed from going to the "wrong" town, etc. But here the opportunity for great memories is viewed as a liability. Why? Because while the players may be having fun, they aren't having fun due to the DM's actions. Beyond that, they aren't advancing the DM's story. In fact, when justifying the use of random encounters, the 2nd edition DMG gives two primary advantages: The first is that they create more variety in the game, which is fair. The second is that they make the DM have more fun, since it can be dull to simply see his story play out. Again, the focus is on making sure the DM is the most special guy in the room.
One thing notably absent from the defense is the benefit for player autonomy. If you do not have random tables prepared, then it is extremely difficult to determine what players encounter in an unknown area on the fly. You can of course try to make things up based on what "logically" would be there, but this is very taxing especially in a stressful situation. Furthermore, you will need to look up rules for the monsters and the like that are enountered, rather than having them readily available. Lastly, it is very difficult to be fair. The temptation will be to have players only encounter groups that they can easily deal with, rather than having the possibility of them finding nothing very interesting or something well beyond their means. With random tables, all of these things can be handled easily. For this reason 1st edition is absolutely stuffed with random tables, including not only "wandering monster" tables, but tables for making random dungeons, determining what lies in unexplored wilderness, etc. These things are largely absent from 2nd edition. Now there is another possible explanation for why this happened, which I may expand in a future essay. This would be the attempt in 2nd edition to slice the rules up as finely as possible so that they could be sold in many rule books. For example, the 2nd edition corebooks are notably missing rules for making strongholds, but these do appear in DMGR2: The Castle Guide. Similarly, there is a "Dungeon Builder's Guidebook" which allows for random dungeon generation. So it is possible that some of the lost content was simply removed as a cash grab, but the advice given in the DMG makes clear that in general the preferred method of play is for things to stay as close the DM's plans as possible.
While the focus of this series is 2nd editon, I'd like to comment a bit about how this problem got worse in 3rd edition. In the 3rd edition DMG the very second sentence of chapter one is "When you're the Dungeon Master, you're teh focus of the game." It then lists the various roles of the Dungeon Master. Whereas previous editions (including 2nd edition) started off by talking about the necessity of having a referee, this is not discussed as a role of the DM in 3rd edition. The closets we get is the DM acting as an "adjudicator" (the fourth role listed, meaning it's not of primary importance.) But this is discussed in terms of the DM being the final arbiter of the game, not in terms of making sure that the rules are applied properly. It is said that the DM should know the rules and DMs are advised to not overturn existing rules without justification, but it is always stressed that the DM can ultimately do whatever the hell he wants.
It is stressed over and over again that the success or failure of the game is solely dependent on the DM. This attitude dooms the game to failure, which I'll probably expand upon in a future essay. The advice never really goes back to letting the players run the game. What's the first piece of advice for what to do when the players seem bored in a session? Bring props to the next session! When they see how authentic your faux parchment looks they'll be sure to be grateful to you the fun you are now allowing them to have. (It's almost impossible to not see Critical Role style playing as inevitable from this point.) The players do eventually come up in the advice, but only to the respect that the DM sets things up for them. So for example if the players like exploration, then you can create an exploration focused adventure to allow them to explore. The solution isn't to run a game normally and if the players decide, in game, to go somewhere unknown to allow it to happen. No, you can be gracious enough to create a game that caters to their interests, but the players are still ultimately playing your game. The other way that player interests come up is in terms of basically bribery. For example, you want the players to save a beleaguered kingdom, but you suspect that the players might not like this sort of story. But you do know that your players like finding big treasures. So you somehow tie in a treasure to the existing plotline, either as a reward from the kingdom or as something that the villain is hiding, to entice the players to go along with the existing plotline.
That is to say, by 3rd edition the game is unabashedly under the full control of the DM. It's difficult for people introduced to D&D by 3rd edition to properly understand that any other method of play is even possible in the first place. Certainly there is not much in the rules to allow a DM to easily make a world where the players have much in the way of choice beyond what he planned. However, these trends really started in 2nd edition. There is a lot of mechanical support for robust role playing (including player autonomy) in 2nd edition, especially if you use the right sourcebooks. But to do this you need to go against the advice given. It's a bit like if monopoly provided the rules and then said "but you probably shouldn't do auctions since they are too complicated, and it's more fun if you allow players to pick up money randomly." Technically the real Monopoly game would be there, but effectively new players would not play by those rules. 2nd edition set up the same situation, and 3rd edition was just being honest about things.
Believe it or not, there are more ways that 2nd edition messed things up (while remaining playable), but those are a topic for a future essay.
July 26, 2023