Detect Tarps

Picture Unrelated

 

After my last game players came to me to complain about the difficulty of the tarps they encountered. Oddly, their main problem was not the lethality, it was how they were "anachronistic" and didn't make sense in a fantasy game. Some even said they were unengaging and pointless, a vicious blow to any DM's ego. In the spirit of OSR, I decided to give everyone else a lecture instead of addressing my own flaws.

So here are the best ways to run tarps in your game: 

Cleverly Camouflaged Tarps

 

Thieves already have a chance to detect tarps, but we all know it is pretty low. I thought to really hide the tarps in one room and make them very difficult to find, penalizing the percentage chance. When they failed, I announced gleefully that they ran straight into a concealed tarp, but none of the players seemed excited at all.

 

Provocative Open Tarps

 

If players find hidden tarps unengaging, the obvious solution  is not to hide them. Put them right out in the open and let the players try to ignore them. Just try it! This is obviously a much better solution as my players interacted with it right away by walking around it.

Role Playing Tarp

Another strategy is to make your tarp appealing to players who like to roleplay everything to the hilt. As pretty much every recent race revision shows, the best way to do this is to add a usable hole to it. Here, the tarp has a gaping hole ready for your most ardent "bard" type player.

Also, a tarp with a hole in it and an NPC are basically the same thing, topologically. Science! 

Incentives

As every good game designer knows, the solution to bad design is to patch it up with incentives. The worse it is, the more you have to bribe or manipulate players to play it. 

I am trying out the idea of Tarp Points, or TP. These are awarded for interacting with and commenting on tarps. The real kicker is they give powerful tarp-related bonuses randomized with a tarp related tarot deck or TARPTAROT (which I will sell). It should be impossible for the party to ignore my lovingly designed tarps, because that would be a sub-optimal play strategy.

 I have also cleverly integrated it with OSR principles by calling these incentives a ruling. I got this idea from a blog post called "Against Incentive" which I shall read one day.

So that was my solution to this common problem. Hope this helps! 

Review of Bakto's Terrifying Cuisine

What It Is

Your party finds themselves in the kitchen dungeon of Bakto, a picky eater for a demon. Satisfy his culinary demands or die trying. This is a small hardback book written for The Vanilla Game or OSRs, and easily adapted for anything else. Here is one of the monster stats. It should look very familiar. If you can't work with this, I don't know what to tell you:

Bakto's was written by Giuliano Roverato, Gustavo Nassar, and Rodrigo Melchior, with art by Sam Mameli. Lovingly inspired by Iron Chef and other frantic cooking shows; the party scours the dungeon for ingredients, encountering wild situations, engaging NPCs, deadly foes, and powerful magic items all the way. I found it has a lot of replay value as the ingredient randomization and time limit make it different every time you run it.

Get it at Spear Witch, itch.io, and DrivethruRPG. As far as I can tell, the only way to get the physical book is through Spear Witch, so do yourself a favor and get it there. If you do itch.io you get a coupon for the physical book, I gather. That's kind of second-best stuff though, and you are better than that.

What It Isn't

One misconception I had going in is that this was a scavenger hunt. Turns out, Bakto was apparently not prancing around the dungeon like a demonic Easter bunny beforehand, hiding just the right things for your players to find. Maybe they were never supposed to succeed. Try to concretely find the abstract flavors he demands like "Drama" or "Nuclear" and you will fail. As you should, fool.

To survive, the party has to shoehorn dungeon debris and monster giblets into some passable mockery of bespoke cuisine, and do their damnedest to cater to his flavors. This is how my game went - my players grabbed what they could and somehow made it work. Barely!

The Time Limit

There is a time limit, which means the party can only explore some of the rooms. Think of the mad shopping cart dash through the grocery store in cooking contests - they can't get to every aisle, can't get everything they wanted. Probably don't know where to find them in the first place! It is small, but every party you run through it could viably experience a different dungeon. You and your party can be surprised even if they already ran this, and the latter part of the book gives some solid ideas for changing things up on repeat runs: teams, secret ingredients, etc.

The Tone

Due to the art and theme, you can forgive people for thinking this is light in tone. It's definitely gonzo, but it is a very deadly adventure with great risks and rewards. Think of the lore lurking behind the bright palette of Adventure Time or the deceptive depth of most Troika! adventures. There are rooms that defy the visual tone, my favorite of which can easily lead to transforming and stranding the party, or worse.

Just some light-hearted whimsy, as long as you don't look too close.

This leads into one of my only concerns about this adventure; curiosity can really kill the cat here. Several rooms I am sure I would lose character after character to as a player. If you run this game you will need to calibrate how many cues and chances you give the party to notice something is amiss. Read it beforehand and you will know which rooms I mean. Definitely memorable though, and not as light-hearted as the tone suggests.

My Bakto Session

 

My Bakto was transparently based on Aku from Samurai Jack. The author says he was based off the 1st edition AD&D DMG cover, and I can see that. Once you picture Aku in your head though it is hard to get that impression out. I doubt I am the only one. I had him really brag about the rubedite cookware he had, pulling from the real life memory of one of my foodie friends always boasting about his goddamn copper pans.

 

Brothers from another mother (maybe, I don't want to think about that.)

My party found out about the allergy from an NPC but were deceived about its nature. This lead to a great moment where they expected Bakto to die upon eating their dish, were baffled when he didn't, started to feel horror that they now had to go through with the contest they thought they would fail, then did not, barely.

 

They only got into actual combat once, on a random encounter. I can see less fortunate parties finding themselves in great danger, especially at the low levels suggested.

 

It was a fantastic game overall, everyone loved it and I begrudgingly admit they may have enjoyed it more than the foray into B4: The Lost City they were amidst (I run B4 a lot). 

 

I now keep this game in my bag, not on my shelf. Loaded and ready for the slightest window of opportunity to play it.

 

How to Enjoy

I ran this as a one-shot and feel like this is its best use. Spreading it out over more than one session might squander the beautiful anxiety from the time limit. As a one-shot, it would also make a great palate cleanser when switching game masters or settings. The best thing I did was to make sure the party would occasionally hear Bakto's booming voice announcing the dread passage of time, describing exactly how he would cook and eat each of them, etc. Normal stuff.

End Note: Author's Discussion 

I generally refuse to read anything about the author explaining their game before I play it, and you should too. If you already played it or just don't care what I think you can read the author's story about its development here.

Hit Points as Doom Timer

 

I'm going to poop out what is sure to be a wildly unpopular idea. We all know the ancient discourse about how hit points (HP) in D&D alternate between physical or "meat" points and luck/fate.

In this hack we focus on HP purely as fate or luck, a timer set between the character and their ultimate doom. We achieve this by simply disallowing healing. Every hit is either just flesh wounds or near misses until the last one. Healing, natural or otherwise, is purely a narrative conceit. Levels would still add HP if anyone manages to eke out a level under this method. It would in fact be the only way.

The draw to this method is that getting to the end of your HP means you are probably nearing the end of your story too, so make it count. Does only the player know, or is the character also aware of their upcoming demise?

I think you will find that the longer you play, the more you will realize that the death of a character is often the best part of their story. Too many players are robbed of the best experience in role-playing by intrusive systems that prolong their lifespans unnaturally. Do you really want to hear about that party of super heroes knocking God on its ass, or the scrappy adventurer who tried to grapple a Grell under the light of a dropped and guttering torch? Look deep in your heart, you know the truth.

Naturally this makes Clerics and healing potions useless. C'est la vie. Leave them out, or make healing potions exceptionally rare. 

Enjoy, if you dare. 

Grid Cells and Hex Maps

 

Image by Ermal Tahiri from Pixabay

In RPGs, dungeon maps are usually square grids and outdoor maps are usually in hexes. There are certainly good reasons for it. Dungeons and other artificial structures, are usually built square. Outdoors, the directional flexibility of the hex make it ideal for plotting out chunks of travel. Some of it is most certainly tradition from early Avalon Hill games and the Outdoor Survival supplement from 70s D&D.

So you have two main tesselations for mapping in RPGs, competing away in your game books.

Does anyone ask what the brain thinks? Our poor ignored little brains?

Grid Cells

For that, we look to neuroscience. A while back, a group of researchers (Hafting et al, 2005) filmed a rat with an electrode in its entorhinal cortex - an area of the brain important for navigation and closely connected to the memory-laden hippocampus.

 

In the video below, a dot is added at the position of the rat every time the cell spikes. As the rat explores, more and more firings are recorded, finally converging into a roughly hexagonal grid. You have to squint a bit to see it, but it is there towards the end. 

 

Spoiler:

You'll note this fits a hex grid well, if a bit distorted. It doesn't fit squares all that well unless you tilt them 45 degrees, and even then it is off.

Is this proof that the hex is superior for mapping, because it already has a presentation in the navigation system of the brain? Probably not. But, it's something to think about.

Unified THACO Resolution

The 1st Edition AD&D Dungeon Master's Guide contains the seeds of a standard method to resolve actions. In the example adventure, a party member can try to catch a scroll case before it floats away. It's just a regular hit against AC 4. This has all the feel of an on-the-spot "ruling" enshrined by happenstance, but it may also hint at an underlying unified "check" mechanic in early D&D. These pages are clearly instructive, showing how to handle uncertain events out of combat. I will talk about how to develop this into a very organic OSR house rule later:

Page 96 (as a room description):

Page 99 (as a play-by-play of the same room):

They seem to have abandoned this subtlety by AD&D 2nd edition, the idea-space being filled up by roll-under ability score checks for things like non-weapon proficiencies. Pretend for a moment you do not want to follow down that road. Your OSR-type game might benefit from a unified mechanic, especially if it is basically invisible. It's so natural you can even just pretend it was an on-the-spot ruling.

The Unified Hit

This is just taking the hint from the DMG and sticking with to-hit against AC as a general unified "check." As this was only ever a hint, let us flesh it out a little. Gauge the AC of a task by considering how well armored it is: a normal task is like an unarmored target (AC 10), a very difficult one like a foe in full plate & shield (AC 0). If the task is easier maybe don't call for a roll, but you see where this is going. If you are using the roll-high variant in OSE instead of THACO, this is going to look just like a modern D&D skill check.

Undoubtedly, you are now raising your finger, opening your mouth, and closing your eyes, a well worn "well akshually..." on your lips. You've found a great and terrible flaw in this system: "But this means Fighters are better at things - even basic knowledge! Congratulations, you are very smart. Consider this though: Wizards are good at spells and such, but their weirdo brains are not wired for practical solutions. Half of their education is probably calling up Imps to do things for them, like fantasy ChatGPT. Clerics and Thieves are kind of average folk who specialize in their divine magic or criminal hobbies. It is the humble fighter who must deal with actual reality and live by their wits, such as they are. Plus, just let them have a thing. They need it.

Note that Fighters do not always have a definite advantage either, especially at low levels. For example, it is good to set the AC of athletic or stealth checks equal to the AC of the character performing them. As such, it is harder to sneak or jump around in armor. In the case of thieves, this ends up giving them a slight advantage over more heavily armored fighters despite a lower to-hit. Furthermore, Thief class abilities should kick in on a failed roll.

Modifiers

Adjustments like bonuses or penalties can come from a relevant Ability score and/or the situation. This can get weird with AD&D or earlier, as the bonuses are not standardized. Do the best you can, using the recommendations below as a guide:

• Advanced D&D: For INT, use the Possible Number of Additional Languages, which is higher than the others but who cares. For WIS, use the Magical Attack Adjustment. For DEX use the Reaction/Attacking adjustment. For CON use the HP Adjustment. CHA is a little more complicated because it is all percentiles (way to go Gary); just use the tens place of the percentile as the modifier (i.e. -25% is a -2).
• Basic D&D: For INT, use the number of added languages. For WIS, use the Saving Throw Adjustments. For DEX use the Missile Fire Adjustment. For CON use the HP Adjustment. CHA uses the Reaction Adjustment.
  

The Dread Spectre of Skills

A good half of you read this and immediately started working up a way to cobble together a skill system for D&D and AD&D. You're probably oozing with greasy little homebrew standbys like using a d12 instead of a d20 if unskilled, patching on advantage/disadvantage, using wizard/magic-user THACOs if unskilled, implementing the Turn Undead table somehow, working up a massive trad skill list...

...maybe cool down a little.

Instead, just leave it all be. If the character would be good at something, due to their background or whatever, change the outcomes instead of the check. Don't even have them roll if it is something they would know. This is completely intuitive and demands no changes to the game. It's already there.

Example

The important thing is that you can implement this without changing anything in the game. It's more of a ruling than a rule, as they love to say in these circles.

In game, it could look like this:

DM: Fleeing onto the docks, you see a small sailboat, bobbing in the waves.
Player: I jump in and sail off!

DM: Does your character have any experience with boats?

Player: no, desert tribesman.

DM: You're missing something important, but fairly obvious. Make a to-hit roll vs. AC 9, add your WIS save adjustment.

Player: a 7, I miss whatever it is.

DM: You start to paddle out but the rope pulls tight and you stop with a sickening jerk. The mob on the docks is gaining, your lead disappearing.

Player: Oh damn I forgot - I reach over and cut the rope!

DM: You paddle out just in time.

If the character had a nautical background of any sort, the DM would probably just skip the check and just remind them, or even better allow a Check to paddle out of the dock even quicker and raise sail like a champ. In any case, whether someone has a background in something rarely needs rigid definition. It should be obvious after playing the character for a while.

Feel free to chime in below with observations, experiences from those who have tried it this way before, etc.

D&D B-Series Pregen Ability Scores

I have been ruminating about old school D&D Ability Scores, and whether they meant all that much. So I decided to run the numbers. I entered 146 pregenerated character stat lines found in the B series of adventure modules into a spreadsheet and imported them into R Studio. Pooped out some descriptives and ridgeline plots, and here is the result. It's more of a descriptive analysis than an inferential one - I do plenty of the latter in my day job.

 

Keep in mind that I can only look at what the designers chose for their Basic modules. I was active in the 80s and the actual state of play was all over the place. Overpowered characters with ludicrously high scores were ever-present. I propose that the more restrained arrays in the modules are reflective of designer intent, whatever you believe that is worth.

What I wanted to find out:

• How did the carefully pregenerated module characters stack up to 3d6 down the line?
• What would an average representative of a Basic D&D Class look like score-wise?
  

Overall Ability Scores by Class

Ideally, Character creation in Basic D&D involves rolling up a set of six Ability scores from 3-18 each, then seeing what sort of Class they qualify for. A Magic-user needs an INT higher than 9, etc. This first plot is the average Ability score for a given class, lumped together. This gives a broad overview of what the actual average score is and which classes tend to get assigned better rolls. At this point there were no Ability score bonuses for Races, so everything is conveniently 3-18.

 

To show this I use ridgeline plots, a kind of smoothed aesthetically-pleasing histogram. I have added a dotted vertical line in the middle of each to show the mean (10.5) for a 3d6 roll. The color also shifts with the score - lower scores are bluish, higher scores reddish.

Well, would you look at that - an awfully suspicious trend towards better-than-average! Is this a selection bias to ensure that players get decent pregens, or a result of Moldvay's option to reroll "hopeless" characters? 

 

The world may never know. 

 

The average module pregen actually sits at 11.4, or roughly 11-12. This is a slight boost over the 10-11 expected with purist 3d6 rolls. Sorry, but I can't be bothered to check for statistical significance, even with R open as I am writing. Maybe later.

Other take-aways:

• Clerics and Thieves seem to get assigned the worst overall rolls.
• Elves and Dwarves seem to get assigned the best overall rolls. 
  
• Magic-users and Dwarves seem to occupy more of the very high results, shown by the taller and longer red tails.
• Halflings have a weird small bump in the low/blue end, perhaps a population of crappy Halflings that throw their otherwise good curve off.
• Fighters are very consistent, almost a normal curve for their rolls.
  

Classes Breakdown

What follows is a little different: the average score for each individual ability, separated by Class. This shows what specific ability scores are favored or disfavored when considering a Class. Sometimes, the histogram splits into two peaks, and it is debatable what that means.

 

To preface some things I will mention later, Basic D&D also had a thing called a Prime Requisite, which is an Ability Score or two that the designers deemed important for that Class. If they were good (13+) you would get a bonus to earned XP. If they were bad, you could get a hefty penalty to XP. I believe these explain most of the patterns you see below.

 

(Images by Terry Dykstra, from the Rules Cyclopedia)

Middling folks relying on their connection to a (usually) unspecified deity! Rolled arrays with a high WIS and little else going for them seem to become Clerics. WIS is entirely for the Prime Requisite XP bonus I think. It only enhances magic saves, which everyone else needs just as much. Clerics tend toward lower INT, probably because religion is silly. To be fair though, the power and versatility of their Class more than makes up for the quality of its members.

The module authors are really giving some good scores to Dwarves. STR and CON are reliably huge. INT, CHA, and DEX tend to suffer, but the two peaks suggest two different camps on whether their WIS and CHA should be high or low. The stereotypes weren't quite set in stone then perhaps.

 

As a special note, see the low blue tail on CON that shouldn't be there. This is partly the ridgeline smoothing extending the curve, but also some mistaken roll assignments. Dwarves have a minimum CON of 9, but tell that to the module authors. This happens elsewhere too (see Halflings).

The best scores reliably go to Jacked-Genius Elves. If you get an array that could make one, I guess you just go for for it. The peaks might show a little division on whether their CON and WIS scores should be low or high.

Halflings were oddly beefy for their size, which no one seemed to think twice about. Despite basically being Fighters, they had minimums and prime requisites that meant the best scores would often go to them. This was probably intended to keep them rare, like elves, but also just made most adventuring exemplars of their race pretty outstanding.

As Ash Williams might say: "Hit first, Think never." Good physical scores and low mental ones. There is a broader range of CHA - a high one makes sense if you want them to be a good leader at domain level, a low one if they are just a rough-neckin' thug.

Scraggly nerds, but they are investments for later godliness, so you want to give them a solid set of scores. A high INT and low STR is obvious, everything else is a nudge above average. Note that like the Cleric, their prime requisite of INT is only good for the XP Bonus.

Light-fingered and charming, with little else going for them. Most of the time they will be relying on their special abilities rather than their Scores anyway - and even their godly DEX has no effect on these in Basic.

Summary of Breakdowns

So if you just "need a guy" real quick, you won't be too bad off using one of these arrays:

 

A Word on Prime Requisites

The idea of high Ability Scores primarily just giving an XP bonus to certain Classes may seem strange to a modern player. This is often its largest benefit in B/X. For example, the benefit of having a higher INT is mostly that your Magic-user rises through their levels a bit more quickly. It has no direct effect on their number of spells or spells known. It only has an impact on their magic in a roundabout way, unlike later editions.

A Word on Minimums

Most Classes also had minimum scores, but those probably had less influence. There are even errors there, for example some Halfling pregens had CON scores below 9! I have left similar genuine mistakes in the database uncorrected, only correcting obvious typos like a Fighter with a CON of 1. In that case I changed it to an 11 - "1" is a common typo for a repeating number like 11 and close to the average anyway.

Conclusion

I don't think anyone came away from this with any surprises. Pregenerated characters had slightly higher Ability Scores than 3d6 down-the-line would imply, Ability Scores tended to reflect the Prime Requisite(s) of the Class, Clerics blow, and Elves rule. I had fun doing it though and hope you got something out of it too, even if it was just confirming your suspicions.

Comment below, especially if there is something else you want to look at.

Preserving the Mundane Peril of Dungeons at Higher Levels

Lower level parties sally forth to the dungeon with a healthy concern for logistics - food, shelter, water, light, etc. Failing to stock up can mean their doom. Later, advanced magic easily makes up for a lack of preparation - or is outright superior! This can make for an unwelcome switch in play style for those who enjoyed the tension of their earlier forays. 

In most dungeon games this change in play style is inevitable. Like it or not, it is part of the experience. It allows the party to take on a grander scale of adventure after proving themselves in the muck. Still, it feels like a sad error to abandon the grim lessons of earlier adventures entirely. Players who took these  to heart do not want to see them drift into obsolescence. Those who did not may fail to even respect the threat of the dungeon.

To this point, I have assembled some methods to keep dungeons dangerous. The point here is not to turn a dungeon into the Tomb of Horrors but to show how a dungeon can be drawn up in a way that preserves its aura of mundane peril despite level.

Silent But Deadly

The flame of torches and lanterns can reveal deadly oxygen-displacing gases. Make their light flicker  when they get close to an otherwise undetectable pool of suffocating or poisonous gas. Have it snuff out when they would need to make saves. Infravision and light spells have no flame to reveal this, so parties reliant on such powers find themselves doomed by their own superiority.

Obviously, this gets tricky if the pool of gas happens to be flammable. Consider that it is still better to find that out at its edge rather than while casting a fire spell within it later. A torch or lantern that merely bursts or changes color near a concentration of flammable gas can be a lifesaver for an observant party.

Lurkers in the Darkness

It is dark. You have been eaten by a grue. An antidote to all the fancy races with dark vision and their annoying players who have to tell you about it every time. Sure, they can see the grue, but will wish they hadn’t. A hazard easily fixed by a torch or lantern, but also amenable to light spells. Bold and greedy merchants in town could mark up their torches and advertise them as “grue repellent.”

This doesn't need to be as exotic as a grue. Animals and primitive monsters may be repelled by fire itself, to the point they avoid parties carrying open flame. This is not so easily outclassed by light spells.

The Tight Squeeze

They call it a dungeon crawl, so why aren't they crawling? Heavy armor and huge weapons are great until you have to squeeze through a tiny cave tunnel. Then, it is time for the lowly, skinny, flexible goblin to shine. A party that would beat the gods themselves on the field of battle is just a wiggly, screaming meal when pinned between two solid stone cave surfaces. 

Just getting stuck may arguably be just as bad - the recent Nutty Putty cave incident being an example. This awful fate should bring a little tremor to the heart of the bravest adventurer, and at the very least make them consider hiring a local guide to keep them out of the worst passages.

This is an unglamorous way to go and it makes sense to give warnings. The tooth-marked skeletons of an early party, trapped in their rusting armor should do. I'm sure you can think of something better.

Spells like passwall and stone to mud, divination, etc. can avoid this, but this is at least a cost.

Perils to Avoid

There's a fine line here in that if you overdo these techniques it may ruin the feeling of immersion and fairness. Plan these out beforehand instead of adding them on the fly. Make them a real part of the world. Otherwise, the players may feel that you are just placing arbitrary obstacles in their way, and they will have a good point. 

 

Give them ample warnings, and use the carrot instead of the stick: show that the more earthly methods of dealing with dungeon danger still have their advantages.

 

Got your own special methods? Tell us about them below!

A Tale of Three Doorknobs

The First Doorknob

"It's the most efficient way to get through this dungeon," he explained in a weary voice.

Every group has a player who says things like this. He was that guy, but at the moment he was that guy with a suspiciously high-HP Cleric. That guy who had just volunteered to try out every potentially-poisoned doorknob in the dungeon. It was HP poison and the low-HP thief's detect traps percentage was as low as it gets. There was no way for the players to know there were no more of them, but every door after was a tedium of protocol. Even amid mortal danger, the Cleric's player had to be woken up every time they needed his beefy palm. He would raise his hand above the table and make a turning motion, then go back to sleep. 

This was a published AD&D 2e adventure. I am not going to name it because the authors are now inexplicably game-famous and have lots of zealous followers. That's another kind of trap and I am not that kind of doorknob.

The Second Doorknob

"I mean I turn clockwise, wait, no, counterclockwise? Would they be expecting that? You're just messing with me, I turn it clockwise!"

Flash to The Oldenhaller Contract, from Warhammer Fantasy Role Play 1st Edition, and it was wonderful. The pit that opened up below him was the cherry on top, and fortunately more humiliating than lethal. The party was enraged and engaged. They raced through on mine carts, fought a non-canonical Nurgle Ninja using plague rats as nunchaku, and tried to join the end boss instead of fighting. We did it all wrong and loved it.

But the doorknob we did right. There's some other rants about how traps need an element of choice to be interesting, and they are right on the money. This had that, but it also had a few other things:

• It gave you lore - the thieves would know this info well and be smart enough not to trigger this trap, which was almost an initiation. It let you know what they were like and how dangerous they were.
  
• It made sense - it wasn't placed arbitrarily to inflict challenge, it was there because of course this group of thieves would want to keep outsiders, well, outside!
  

So why do so many published adventures do traps the first way and not the second? It's not just laziness, and you can hardly blame them - popular media is after all full of traps with no warning, used as jump scares. This doesn't often translate well to RPGs however. Chalk it up to another big difference between RPGs and movies.

Later Doorknobbery

"I don't know, man. I'm not a Rogue in real life, I just want to roll."

Flash forward to D&D 3.5, playing my conversion of B4: The Lost City, which is also my favorite module. I had learned my lessons about decisions and traps well, and was happily implementing them. There was another door trap and I asked how the Rogue was approaching the door. This player wanted none of it. No stressful decisions, just take what fate gave them and move on. I let them. Sometimes things just bounce off, or maybe I just didn't play it right. Who knows.

In the end you can learn all the "right" ways to GM or design adventures, but they rarely survive contact with players. You probably came here expecting an easy moral: that it's better to use a trap that has a decision point, makes sense in the setting, and conveys lore. I'd rather say it is fun to get excited about new ways to do things, but don't take them as gospel. 

The table always wins.

D&D/OSR Hack: Shields Halve Descending AC

 

 

Every once in a while, I see someone mention an OSR-style hack where shields halve AC. The overall effect is that a shield becomes a massive improvement for those without other armor. For example, rounding up and using the armor specs in Moldvay Basic D&D: 

Armor       AC  w/Shield

None        9   ->  5

Leather     7   ->  4

Chain       5   ->  3

Plate       3   ->  2   

Obviously this would make shields a much better choice for those wearing leather and chain, but no effect at all on plate wearers. This would also impact the choice to wield a two-handed weapon instead, but again only for those in lighter armor.

 

So, if anyone out there is using this hack - what are your experiences with it? Any other drawbacks or benefits I didn't mention?

Bonus find: a slightly similar rule exists in Moldvay's 1986 "Challenges Game System," which was kind of a simplified AD&D from what I can tell:

Notice that here he has addressed the idea of small, medium, and large shields protecting more or less than each other, and entwined it with the idea of them being redundant with successively heavier armors.