On the much maligned AD&D 2nd Edition

I apparently started this long ago, but finishing a PhD and moving to the Middle East left me unblogging for quite some time. I'll leave this as is and try to finish what I started. 

With the new D&D Next playtest packet, I've been avoiding the forums and what I presume is the vast amounts of nerdrage over the new packet. My first thought was disappointment because of the loss of options: Clerics and Rogues really lost a lot of options and there was no sexy new bard to make up for it (though the druid and barbarian may have decent updates). Anyway, I did some reading about 2nd edition, and came to a few conclusions.

1) Second edition is maligned because it is transitional and unfairly gets criticisms that should (also) go with other editions.
2) Second edition is misremembered: things that people complain about in third edition didn't apply in second edition (and earlier).
3) Second edition is really three distinct versions: core, complete, and options.

I'm going to focus on the first and third aspect here, but mostly the third.

The grognards hate second edition because they feel their particular version (original, b/x, becmi, AD&D 1st) achieved perfection in the 70s and nothing that happened once TSR's mid-80s problems hit is valid. Let's face it: grognards don't even like things like Oriental Adventures (see the comments here and here) or Unearthed Arcana by-and-large, and the modules from the late 70s and early 80s are considered the best. Grognards forget that adventures changed midway through AD&D 1st edition. So any grognard criticism is largely going to be that 2nd edition isn't their edition of the game. But it is a legitimate continuation of what was happening in that version of the game. It is pretty obvious that you can convert second edition materials easily to earlier editions of the game than third or fourth edition stuff.

Now, the core 2nd edition books (the big 3 plus Tome of Magic and Legends and Lore) actually make a pretty coherent little system, and in that respect they're just a clean-up of the first edition AD&D rules, with a bit of sanitization to help avoid the Satanism stigma. So gone were assassins and half-orcs and devils and demons. But in were the specialty priests, specialist wizards, playable bards, and such. Interestingly, also gone was the rule that gp=xp. I think this falls in the realm of sanitization too, because xp for treasure induces the murderhobo style of play, rather than heroic parties. Though xp for gp was an optional rule. But by and large, 2nd edition started out as a cleaned up and sanitized version of the game. You can criticize it for lacking Gary's tone, but I think even Gary would have bowed to sanitization and ditched monks, assassins, renamed devils/demons, etc. He wouldn't have been happy, be he probably would have done it (and done it somewhat tongue-in-cheek). When I go back and look at the early edition stuff, I wish it had as much variety as is presented here. Specialist wizards and a couple priest variants would really help tempt me to play a real old-school game.

Next, comes second edition complete, with all the complete handbooks. This is the start of the splat-bloat, but this is nothing that other games and companies weren't doing either. From a business stand point, TSR needed people to buy more products, so calling them T$R is just a naïve lamentation about capitalism. This started to have more "broken" shit, but a lot of it was still solid. I think some of the problem is when new complete books came out, you could only integrate that material with new characters. Unlike third or 4th edition where you could take some feats/powers/spells, the new stuff in second edition generally required a new/redesigned character.

Finally the option books came out with character-points, spell points, proficiency points, and all other kinds of points. I think Combat & Tactics and Spells & Magic were fairly solid. But people forget that these are collections of optional rules. You didn't need subabilities or to use those point-based character creation methods. You could just use the new schools of magic, new priest classes, or critical hit charts. So while those books may have some crazy shit in them, you weren't instructed to use all of that.

When people hear 2nd edition, they start thinking of the end of the run, 1995+ rather than the beginning, which is the opposite of 1st edition. When people think of first edition, they're actively excluding Unearthed Arcana, Oriental Adventures, Dragonlance Adventures, and the like. Third and 4th edition have the same splat-bloat as second did, so there's really no grounds for criticism there: the bladesinger from Complete book of Elves can't be much worse than the junk that came out in 3.5 or twinstrike for the 4e ranger.

In Essenece, I think second edition gets the flack for a number of things that were happening in RPGs at the time.  First, a trend towards story and heroism that started in the mid to late 80s. We certainly see it with Vampire but it seems the trend is apparent in dragon magazine. Second, the addition of options and rules to the game, which started with first edition AD&D (Many OSR folk don't like races distinct from classes, monks and other sub classes, or Psionics) and continued with Unearthed Arcana.  These two really do go together: a more complex story demands more character options, in a sense. You see this trend in the Options books where they tried to revitalize the game with insights from other games (point-based design). 

Where's the writing on the wall?

So, I just got back from a tiny excursion to Rome. My head is bursting with ideas. But one of the big things I'm taking back from visiting those monuments is the use of writing in a D&D game. So often we ignore that list of languages and some skills like history or religion on a character sheet, when they could be constantly used for hints.

VENUSTUS

First off, if literacy is common in a game, there will be graffiti. Whoever made it to a fancy overlook or a cave mouth or a ruined monument is likely to at least write their name on the walls or door. Its really no different from how things work today. Most of it will be useless stuff (think: Thomas was here) but some of it could be warnings etched in stone or scribbled on scraps of parchment or broken pottery. A lack of graffiti is also a key sign that you're not in terra incognita. But being able to distinguish between graffiti written by the original inhabitants of a dwarven city and the orcish invaders might be a key hint as to what's up ahead, where treasure may or may not lie, etc.

Necromancy and Necromancers in Heoric D&D

Necromancy has always been a popular subject in RPGs and fantasy fiction. Usually, necromancers and undead are the villains. So when I look at the Necromancer theme/specialty in the new playtest, I'm a bit unsettled.

First, its great that they include it. 4e went far too long without a good mechanical way to support this archetype. Reflavoring can only take one so far, though the Shaman did relatively well as a necromancer type. It doesn't even take much searching to find a small host of third party OGL necromancy products, so the necromancer is probably popular/iconic enough to warrant some treatment in the basic D&D rules.

3.5/OGL products:

• Hollowfaust: City of Necromancers (Sword and Sorcery Studios)
• Necromancy: Beyond the Grave (Mongoose)
• Encyclopaedia Arcane Necromancy (Mongoose)
• Secret College of Necromancy (Green Ronin)
• The Dread Codex (Adamant)
• The Dread Codex 2: The Necromancer's Tome (Adamant)
• Necromancer's Legacy: Gar'Udok's Necromantic Artes (EN)

So why does this new necromancer theme grind my gears? Simply put, its not a necromancer.

The history of divine magic in D&D

In D&D, when a cleric casts a spell, what really happens? The rules are pretty clear on the mechanics of bless or cure light wounds but what about the story? Are the deities aloof, or do they intervene in the world? D&D has taken a number of positions on this issue.

The earliest position is that clerical spells are similar to wizard spells, but a cleric prays for each spell on a regular basis. His deity grants that spell to him, and when he wants to cast it again, he must pray again the next day. Acting against the tenets of the religion may interfere with a cleric's spellcasting powers at the DM's discretion. This is the basic position of the earliest editions through early second edition.

One alternative that is generally presented in early D&D is that a cleric may worship a philosophy or force (i.e. goodness) instead of a deity. Who 'grants' the cleric spells isn't really defined in this alternative system. This system, however, seems to be targeted at groups who want to portray clerics but don't want to get into the details of developing and portraying a fictional religion.

Over the course of second edition, a few alternative perspectives arose. Al-Qadim developed a religion of enlightened gods who represented ideals (bravery, adventure, wisdom, etc.) and let their churches and priests be differentiated based on cultural aspects (the Pantheonists only admitted 5 enlightened gods, while the Temple of 10,000 Gods admitted them all). The Dark Sun setting, instead, split clerics into elemental worshippers and those who gained their power by serving neigh-omnipotent sorcerer-kings. Elemental priests got their spells from a nebulous somewhere, whereas the templars clearly got their spells from an active agent in the world.

Third edition presents clerics much as before, though they have ways of channeling their deity's power without spells. Third edition clerics are still at the mercy of the DM if they act against the wishes of their deities.

Finally, fourth edition frees clerics from the tyranny of the DM by making the gods aloof in the world. Clerical magic (same for Paladins and Avengers, though not Invokers or Runepriests) is granted by an ordination ceremony, which allows the Cleric to channel the powers of the astral sea. They technically don't need to worship the deity for a second after that ceremony, and can continue casting spells all day long. This also differentiates divine magic from arcane magic, as divine magic arises from the astral sea. One strange effect here, however, is that all clerics draw upon the same pool of powers, so clerics of evil deities, sea deities, or darkness are also liable to be slaying their foes with holy radiance. Divorcing clerical magic from worship of the deities may seem odd, but it also means that a cleric cannot lose spellcasting powers if he does something against his faith. Given the edition's power system, this is important as any character who loses access to his powers is crippled.

Two of the more curious systems arose in the second edition Spells and Magic book. While tied to a complex spell-point system, divine magic was presented with two interesting options that DMs could use. The first is ritual prayer, and the second is conditional magic.

In the ritual prayer system, the cleric's deity isn't invested in the cleric's prior actions, but just the act of completing the ritual properly:

"In this system, the deity or power is concerned more with the priest’s show of devotion and observance of the proper form, and considers the priest’s actual situation to be irrelevant—after all, martyrs are made every day."

Here, we get a solid system for clerical magic in which the deities are aloof and seem to take no part in the affairs of the world. Clerical magic is ritualized, and rushing the ritual is likely to reduce the power of the spell. Conversely, ritual prayer made by a ritually pure priest (observant, not necessarily pious) with the proper offerings ad the proper place and conducted with care can produce spectacular effects. With the right casting conditions, even previously expended spells can be cast again! Its all about the motions, however. In this way, the ritual prayer system can be seen as a precursor to the 4e system. Moreover, it links the cosmology (aloof deities) to the magic of clerics.

These aloof deities make divine magic feel much more like the magic in the D20 Conan game and Conan universe in general. While independent sorcerers exist, many are trained in the priesthoods of these aloof and alien deities. Whether or not the god even exists is not important: it is the ritual training of the priests that give them sorcerous abilities.

The inverse system is also presented as Conditional Magic. In this system, the gods carefully answer each prayer based not necessarily on the urgency of the petitioner but on the probability to influence the world in a way the deity prefers. When a cleric casts a spell, you tally up the total of positive and negative conditions. If it is skewed heavily positive (casting a spell to smite the deity's enemies in a holy place, etc.) the spell is cast at a higher caster level or reduced in cost. If it is skewed negatively, the spell is more costly or weaker.

The conditional magic system presents interventionist deities, and their tools are their clerics. The mechanics explicitly reward clerics for advancing their deity's agenda and penalties for working against it. This codifies some of the DM fiat where by the DM may simply neuter a cleric by taking away all his spells.

The idea of interventionist deities can be clearly seen in the Dark Sun novel Rise and Fall of a Dragon King:

"O Mighty Hamanu! Lion-King, Lord, and Master, hear me!"A distant voice echoed in Hamanu's mind. The totality of his awareness raced backward, along a silver thread of consciousness through the Unseen netherworld, to the source.

"Armor! I crave invincible armor and earthquake!

"The Gray was charged with acid needles, and Hamanu's vision, when he opened his sulphur eyes above the desperate templar, was streaked with lurid colors. There was powerful magic—someone else's powerful magic—in the vicinity.

"O Mighty Hamanu! Hammer of the World! Grant me invincible armor and earthquake!

"Squinting through the magic, Hamanu made out chaos and bloodshed: a full cohort of his own templars outnumbered by ragtag brigands. Or, not brigands. Another moment's study discerned a well-armed, well-drilled force disguised for brigandage. In the midst of the Urikites' impending defeat, a militant, a human man with tears of panic streaming down his face, raised his bronze medallion and entreated the Lion-King for the third time:

"O Mighty Lion, grant me invincible armor and earthquake, lest I die!

"A wise invocation—in its way. An earthquake, if Hamanu empowered the spell to create one, would swallow everything on the battlefield, friend and foe alike, except for the invincibly armored militant. Though sacrifice was necessary in battle, the Lion-King of Urik was not in the habit of rewarding militants who'd save themselves and doom the lesser ranks and mercenaries they led. He'd have considered granting the earthquake while withholding the invincible armor—and savored the militant's death—if the netherworld turbulence wouldn't have negated any spell he granted.

If you want to portray deities like that, the basic D&D cleric system of divine magic doesn't quite cut it, though using the conditional magic system definitely helps.

These two systems nicely define and differentiate two distinct types of deities: aloof vs interventionist. It is even somewhat easy to imagine distinct classes using different systems, such as a Dark Sun game where the elemental clerics use ritual prayer while templars (and druids?) use conditional magic.

These two systems are but a small part of the magic of the cleric class (and related classes). The new edition of D&D will probably present a generic system as D&D has historically done, which can be modified somewhat to suit different worlds. I do hope, however, they they make it easy for these distinct visions of divinity to be mechanically bound to the setting.

Certain classes are even linked to the role of the deities in the game. The 4e Invoker class is essentially a prophet compared to the cleric's priest. I use these in the sense of the Hebrew bible and the ancient near east, where the priests worked the temple and prophets were charismatic leaders who claimed to speak directly for their deity, often leading small bands of devoted followers. If the deities are all interventionist and use their churches and clerics to intervene, there isn't much space for a distinct prophet class. Conversely, in a game where deities are largely aloof, a prophet who is called to reform the church, lead the chosen to safety, or combat the deity's enemies becomes very different and viable class from the ritual-prayer priest.

Ultimately, the state of divine magic in D&D is a prime case for wedding the rules to the system. I hope the designers of the new edition keep this in mind.