Sunday, June 4, 2023

"May I roll a check?" and OSR DC modifiers

 I ran The Gardens of Ynn over the weekend. I had been wanting to run it for a while: the decayed garden setting is beautiful and weird and different from the usual fantasy fare. It has a false tooth that grants d8 fire breath!


I ran it for 5e players. They had never played Old School Essentials / B/X before, but they are are mature and reasonable people who engaged with exploration, so mechanics were not necessary much. The adventure itself provides an events table, treasure, and encounters, and it was fun for everyone to roll for these tables.

Everything ran smoothly, for the most part, but one thing stood out to me: my players repeatedly asked me, "may I roll a check?" This is a habit 5e drills into you, so it did not come as a big surprise. I did not go to great pains to emphasize that OSE does not rely much on checks, and I encouraged direct problem-solving by describing what their character did, not abstracting the whole action behind a roll, so my players were not aware they were doing things "nonstandard" for an OSR game.

But the thing is, my players *wanted* to make checks. It is how they think about interacting with the world in a game, and an important way to fill in the fiction themselves. Granted, this locates the decision point for the game outcomes at a random dice roll, not the actions of the character. In many situations where 5e employs a roll, a careful description "should" accomplish the same thing (according to me). This is in contrast with the OSR principle of engaging with the world, and mechanics being a secondary emphasis.

Abstracting outcomes behind dice rolls does not invalidate the feedback loop of ability and skill checks in games like 5e. It is part of the fun. Emmy Allen, the author of Gardens of Ynn, has an interesting take on skill checks: they give the players agency by providing a mechanic where "you definitely get what you want". In the next tweet, she also mentions Dungeon Crawl Classics, describing its reliance on dice as the "Jesus take the wheel" approach.

In my games, I like this reliance on dice to provide direction for play. Rolls of the dice can provide interesting outcomes. And rolling dice comes with a little dopamine thrill, something else I like to provide. You might argue that OSE is simply a different type of game, one without many ability checks, but that dodges the issue. Checks can function as a mini game, and I am curious to understand how you could hack OSE to simulate the 5e ability check probabilities within OSE.

It turns out not to be hard very hard. Without getting into too many technical details, let me summarize by saying that ability checks and their difficulty are roughly equivalent in OSE and 5e, but in OSE high ability scores are more powerful than in 5e. This means that adjusting task difficulty relies much more heavily on the individual situation in OSE: a check roll modifier should be different when a character would or would not have skill equivalent to 5e proficiency, or even whether the character has a very high ability score.

OSE ability checks are essentially equivalent to a DC 11 check in 5e: an average ability score (10) has a 50-50 chance of success in both systems. Roll modifiers in OSE allow us to change the difficulty of a check to match the DC in 5e. But this is where things get complicated.

We have to think about the meaning of "difficulty." To make a long story short, to make a task more difficult for Superman, a bigger OSE modifier is necessary than for the average Joe. For average Joe (ability score 10), a +4 modifier is equivalent to DC 15, but +8 is needed to make the difficulty the same for Superman (score 18).

In this sense, high-powered OSE characters have even higher power than in 5e. On the other hand, low-powered characters have even lower power in OSE, as well. It may be surprising that OSE has more "power" than 5e. But, it fits into the OSR mindset of gritty characters at the extremes of existence: wins are big, but so are losses.

5e also has two major features that increase the power of its ability checks: (1) Ability Score Increases / proficiency leveling, and (2) skills and proficiency. The fact that ability scores and proficiency modifiers increase with level is hugely powerful, and gives greater weight to level increases. At an OSE table, proficiency can be corrected for by reducing the OSE modifier by 2 (for the average Joe).



So, it is possible to incorporate check-heavy play into OSE without modification of the base rules at all: the "calibration" comes from the size of modifiers. In summary, the practical considerations: modifiers in OSE can be adjusted 1-for-1 with with 5e, when considering the average Joe. For higher or lower ability score values, a bigger modifier is needed. And, when proficiency comes into play, the modifier should be reduced by 2.

You can use this Excel sheet to mess around with the different modifiers and DC to see how the probabilities of success compare between the two systems.

Will I start using this at my table? I think so, with a default modifier of +4. This sets the bar for a check reasonably high: equivalent to a DC 15 check for average Joe. That seems justified: something truly left up to the fates, a situation where the player can really only rely on hope to succeed. Isn't that what OSR is about?

Red Sox ZombieRama


A Red Sox zombie apocalypse fantasy

July night ball: heat lingers in the Fenway bleachers after a day baking in the sun, lights twinkles, Verdugo on first, 2 outs, Yoshida with a 3-1 count. Will he swing?

The Yankees are in town, and chants erupt yet again to “F the Yankees!” For once, the chant matches up with the opponent. Masa takes a few practice sweeps, staring down Nestor Cortes. The pitcher comes set.

Judge dinks around in right, breathing out of his mouth and wondering if he’ll ever learn to tie his shoelaces. A cheer goes up behind him, ladies shrieking and men howling—Aaron’s used to the commotion.

He’s thinking about how much he likes having so many fans who are so nice to him when a BU bro in a Hernandez jersey leaps the fence, vaults onto Judge’s back, and sinks his teeth into his prey’s shoulder. He tears flesh with a wild, deranged look in his eye.

At the same time, around this park that has seen so much, bedlam erupts. Something surges through the crowd, like the Wave but more insidious in nature: a disease that causes the afflicted to become mindless undead fiends, thirsting for the blood of humans.

A Yankees fan leaps into the Yankees dugout and tackles Aaron Boone, from whom a geyser of blood erupts.

But as the scene unfolds, we quickly see the meaning of Boston Strong. Kiké does a series of flying handsprings towards an usher in a red polo, culminating in a headlock between his thighs and a snapped neck. Triston Casas pulls a handgun out of his bag and starts picking off the undead, a perfect shot. Dave O’Brien is bitten by Tim Wakefield; Youk grabs him by the shoulders and throws him out the open window of the broadcast booth, plummeting to the roiling crowd below. The cameras catch the 89-year-old grandmother with 30 grandkids all from Boston who delivered the opening pitch bite the face off tonight’s guest Fred Lynn behind home plate.

Chaim Bloom and David Ortiz vault from the box where they were eating caviar, plummeting to the seats below and executing perfect landings. They each grab the nearest zombie by the head and smash them together. Big Papi rips a seat from the concrete, and wades into the crowd, slamming gnashing heads with the business end of the seat and shouting “Here I come! I’m in the Hall of Fame!”

Devers grabs a bat in each hand, and begins whipping them in circles. Like two helicopter propellers, they whirl faster than the eye can see as Raffy steps towards the stands, eyeing the nearest zombie. Bat meets skull: base hit!

Justin Turner looks up from the tablet where he had been studying his last at bat, takes in the scene, and slowly steps up to the field. His forearms and shins lift upwards, before sliding smartly back, revealing metal and chrome and Kevlar panels beneath. From his right forearm emerges a giant laser blaster; from his left, a chandelier of long needles. His limbs extend, as he turns into a hulking machine of war. Chaim Bloom jumps onto his shoulder and shouts “Go!”

Turner marks the turning point in the assault, the moment it went from a zombie attack to a proper Red Sox rout. Too many hits to count as Turner levels the throngs of undead with laser beams. The bodies pile higher as Masa roundhouse kicks zombie after zombie. Devers hits a home run out of the park with the head of a hot dog vendor like a tee-ball at-bat.

Two and a half hours: longer than the game would have been with the pitch clock, all to clean up the mess and ferret out every last zombie. A sweep by the Sox. As the team regroups among the mounds of bodies, Cora looks each man in the eye in turn. “Looks like the season has just begun.”

Freddie at the bat



A Dodgers – Attack on Titan crossover fanfic

Freddie gazed out over Shiganshina, Wall Maria to the South and the rolling green plains of Paradise Island waited beyond. He couldn’t see past the wall, but he didn’t need to to see in his mind’s eye the Titans that prowled beyond.

Titans flooded into the district through the hole created by the Armor Titan. Freddie glanced up to the Colossal Titan towering over the Wall, but his attention was immediately drawn to the thundering footsteps of an obese Titan barreling towards Hange Zoë. True to her nature, Hange-San was taking temperature readings and other scientific observations, blissfully unaware of the immediate danger posed to her life. 

“Not while I’m at bat,” Freddie said to himself, sliding his wooden bat from the holster on his back and pulling a baseball from his belt pouch.

Time seemed to freeze. Freddie lifted the ball upwards, his hand releasing but the ball continuing its lofting journey into the air. The hand jumped to the bat held by his other hand, and Freddie waited a beat for the ball to reach its apogee before he released the tension in his shoulders back and forearms in an explosion of raw hitting power.

His front foot stepped forward, and his back knee fell to the ground. Freddie swung the bat in a long arc. The fat end of the bay hit the ball square on, and with a loud crack the ball was aloft, a line drive straight towards the Titan’s gaping mouth.

Hange looked up too late and emitted a squeaking shriek. But the Titan was even more too late for his dinner:

The ball plummeted between the Titan’s teeth, traveling and impossible 200MPH off the bat at a 60 degree angle. Just as quickly as it had gone in, the ball erupted from the nape of the Titan’s neck, seemingly unslowed by the trip through the Titan’s nervous system. The Titan dropped to the ground, crumpling inches in front of Hange.

“Oooooh!” she cried in delight, rushing forward to examine the specimen before it disintegrated into steam and skeleton.

Freddie was distracted by his ball. Other citizens had stopped to watch, transfixed by the ball’s soaring trajectory and distracted from the Titan menace around them. No danger: the Titans were equally transfixed.

Freddie pointed to the space just above Wall Maria, standing stoic and backlit with his arm outstretched to announce his destination.

Time slowed again, an experience of Zeno’s Paradox. The ball inched toward the Wall, finally creeping to a halt and hovering just before the Wall. The world froze, with a sharp gasp or breath.

And then it broke free, like the dreams of Eldians the world over. The ball emerged into the green free world beyond the walls, unencumbered by claustrophobic walls or racial prejudice or the ever present threat of extinction. As they watched, the citizens of Shiganshina felt their spirits escape with the ball.

From below, a voice rang out. “Out of the park! A walk off home run ! Hip hip hooray for Freddie Freeman!” There stood Armin Arlert, facing Freddie and flanked by Eren Jaeger and Mikasa Ackerman, both still entranced by the ball.

Armin’s celebration broke the spell. The citizens of Shiganshina broke out into cheers and hurrahs, a roar of triumph and fervor. As I they dodged the renewed frenzied attacks of the Titans, they changed Freddie’s name: Freddie Freddie Freddie! He beamed. And then he noticed something peculiar. 

As they darted around the district, the townspeople grabbed sticks and pipes and other implements, and stuffed rocks into their pockets. And then they got to work. 

From all corners rang out the clang of stones meeting bats. Rocks shot through the air like meteors, burying themselves in the Titans’ napes. None were as powerful and detestation as Freddie’s but that wasn’t necessary.

Titans dropped like flies, and Freddie Freeman looked on as the Battle of Shiganshina wiped out the Titan menace.






today x tomo x forever

I'm just a bionic man living in the 21st century. This is what I've got.

- George Louis Borg

"May I roll a check?" and OSR DC modifiers

 I ran The Gardens of Ynn over the weekend. I had been wanting to run it for a while: the decayed garden setting is beautiful and weird and...