The strength requisite of D&D characters is often increased, and
sometimes decreased, due to magic items, potions, the touch of
monsters such as Shadows, etc. There is a need for a table to show
players and referees what happens when strength goes above 8/100
and below 3. Some of us refs also hand out girdles of kobold strength
and gauntlets of pixie power, and we need monster equivalent strengths
for those. In addition, some monsters often use weapons and there is a
need to add strength bonuses to their basic weapons damage in a systematic
way.

The table presented here is an attempt to meet those needs.
Natural strength can never exceed the racial maximums given in the
Player’s Handbook, though magic can temporarily and sometimes
permanently (wishes) increase strength beyond that. All hit probability
and damage bonuses are cumulative.

This table is to be used in two ways. First, when monsters use
weapons, one should simply add the monster’s average racial strength
bonuses from this table to the damage done according to the Player’s
Handbook Weapon Table, PROVIDED the monster is man-sized or
larger. If the monster is smaller than man-sized, use the accompanying
Smaller than Man-sized Weapons Table and do not add the average
racial strength bonuses given here.

The other method is to roll 3d6 as usual and add the strength
bonuses from that to the average racial strength of the monster (including
percentile rolls for 18/? strength). Thus you can have an exceptionally
strong or weak ogre. This can be especially important when PCs
are polymorphed into monsters; their personal strength
bonuses carry over to their monster forms. This 2nd method should
chiefly be used to add a little individuality to your monsters.

When monsters are being run as PCs, they do not
start using the Monsters Attacking Table, rather they use the Men Attacking
Table, with bonuses for racial strength and personal strength,
and increase hit probability as they go up in experience as fighters.
<revised attack matrix>

Some changes have been made from the Players’ Handbook
Strength Table. Magic items in the Dungeon Masters’ Guide should be
modified to fit this table; i.e., Gauntlets of Ogre Power would be plus 3
to hit and plus d6 in damage rather than plus 2 to hit and plus d8 in
damage. Demons and devils should have strengths of 20-25 depending
upon type, at the referee’s discretion.

The inspiration for this came from the strength table in Dave Hargrave’s
Arduin Grimoire II.

Arduin Grimoire II.

STRENGTH DIE ROLL	EQUIVALENT MONSTER STRENGTH	<MONSTER>	HIT PROBABILITY	DAMAGE
0	0	none	collapse on ground	can't move
1	1	Brownies	-4	-d6
2	2	Leprechauns	-3	-d4
3	3	Pixies	-2	-1-3
4	4	Gnomes, Halflings, Kobolds	-2	-1-2
5	5	none	-1	-1-2
6-7	6-7	Goblins, Nixies	-1	-1
8	8	none	-1	normal
9-12	9-12	Elves, Humans, Orcs	normal	normal
13-14	13-14	Dwarves	+1	normal
15-16	15-16	Hobgoblins	+1	+1
17-18/01-75	17-18	Lizard Men	+2	+1-2
18/76-90	19	Gnolls	+2	+1-3
18/90-99	20	Bugbears	+2	+d4
18/100	21	Ogres, Trolls	+3	+d6
-	22	Hill Giants, Ogre Magi	+4	+2-9
-	23	Stone Giants	+4	+2d6
-	24	Frost Giants	+5	+3d6
-	25	Fire Giants	+5	+4d6
-	26	Cloud Giants	+6	+5d6
-	27	Storm Giants, Titans	+6	+6d6

There are a lot of aspects of strength which should be left to the
discretion of the referee. Flesh and bone are not increased in their
load-bearing properties by magic, so there is a fairly good chance that
tendons would be ripped, cartilage tom and bones fractured when
using magically increased strength for purposes besides melee. A
character might have the strength to pick up and throw a boulder like a
giant, but his joints would probably fail messily if he tried. Not to mention
such details as whether or not his arms and hands are broad
enough to get a grip, if he has the leverage and balance to get under it
and not fall on his nose, etc.

This table is meant to be used in conjunction with Smaller than
Man-Sized Weapons Table for smaller than man-sized characters and
monsters. Example: a hobbit with 16 strength attacks with a hobbit-sized
Battle Axe. His 16 strength from this table is one lower than the
maximum possible allowed for hobbits from the Players’ Handbook
Strength Table I and is permissible (though not if he suffers a sex change
from magic, in which case it would be reduced to 14) so he is plus 1 to hit
and plus 1 in damage. The hobbit equivelant of Battle Axe does one d4
of damage, so this hobbit’s damage is 2-5.

A human cursed with a Girdle of Hobbit Strength would be minus
2 to hit and minus 1-2 points in damage with a man-sized battle axe,
modified by a strength of say 16, to minus 1 to hit and minus 1 to
damage, for potential damage of 1-7 points. The difference is that the
human is using a man-sized axe, which with his reduced strength is
rather unwieldy, but it is heavier and has the potential to do greater
damage than the hobbit axe wielded by a strong hobbit.

Damage can never be reduced below 1 point no matter how
many reductions there are.
 
 

SMALLER THAN MAN-SIZE WEAPONS TABLE
Thomas Holsinger

 

-	-	-	-	-
Dragon #29	-	1st Edition AD&D	-	Dragon magazine

Editor’s note: This article was written in companion with Mr. Holsinger’s
“Strength Comparison Table” (TD #26). Space considerations
did not allow us to use both in the same magazine. Both articles should
be read and used in conjunction with each other. Our apologies for any
confusion or difficulties resulting from splitting the 2 pieces.
 

Small creatures which use weapons, such as hobbits, goblins, etc.,
generally use weapons proportioned to fit their smaller stature and
these smaller weapons do less damage than their man-sized counterparts.
It is fairly easy to allow for damage bonuses due to strength for the
larger than man-sized monsters, but this is really not possible for smaller
than man-sized critters due to the high percentage of “one damage
point” results which would ensue from a simple subtraction from damage
rolls.

The following table is presented to deal with this problem. It lists
melee weapons in three columns, man-sized weapons in the first, damage
from weapons for the 3’ high races in the center (Gnomes, Halflings,
Kobolds) and damage by Goblin-sized weapons in the last column.
Each column has two entries separated by a slash (/), the first
being damage to man-sized targets and the second being damage to
larger than man-sized targets.

This table grew out of an encounter I had as a referee with the
“barbarian hobbit” one player brought in and attempted to run as
Conan’s cousin. All the hobbits I had dealt with in the past were sensible
ones like thieves and assassins who believed that the best course for a
hobbit was to stay out of sight and do the deed when no one was looking.
Not this guy. He wanted to have his hobbit charge in with swords
bigger than his character. I pointed out that hobbits just aren’t big
enough to use man-sized two-handed swords, halberds and the like,
and that a pole arm shaft small enough for a hobbit’s grip would have to
be thinner and therefore weaker than normal. The twit howled with
indignation and I almost had to throw him out of the game.

Dwarves are only 4’ high, just as Goblins, but they are 3’ across and
are very strong for their weight, more so than humans. They therefore
use the man-sized weapons column.
 

WEAPON	NORMAL	GNOMES, ETC.	GOBLINS
Dagger	1-4/1-3	1-2/1-2	1-3/1-3
Poinard	2-5/1-4	1-3/1-2	1-4/1-3
Short Sword	1-6/1-8	1-3/1-4	1-4/1-6
Rapier	2-7/1-6	1-4/1-3	2-5/1-4
Scimitar	1-8/1-8	1-4/1-4	1-6/1-8
Broadsword	2-8/2-7	1-4/1-4	2-6/2-5
Bastard Sword	2-8/2-16	1-4/1-8	2-6/2-12
Great Sword	1-10/3018	1-5/2-9	1-7/2-14
Small Axe	1-6/1-4	1-3/1-2	1-4/1-3
Battle Axe	1-8/1-8	1-41-4	1-6/1-6
Great Axe	2-12/4-24	1-6/2-12	2-9/3-18
8' Spear	1-6/1-8	1-3/1-4	1-4/1-6
12' Spear	1-6/1-10	1-3/1-5	1-4/2-7
16' Pike	1-6/1-12	1-3/1-6	1-4/1-8
Halberd	1-10/2-12	1-5/1-6	1-8/2-9
Warhammer/Small Mace	2-5/1-4	1-3/1-2	2-4/1-3
Large Mace	2-7/1-6	1-4/1-3	2-5/1-4
2-Handed Mace	2-9/1-8	1-5/1-4	2-7/1-6
Military Pick	2-7/2-8	1-3/1-4	2-5/2-6
Flail	2-7/2-8	1-3/1-4	2-5/2-6
Morning Star	2-8/2-7	1-4/1-3	2-6/2-5
Javelin	1-6/1-6	1-3/1-3	1-4/1-4
Throwing Axe	1-6/1-4	1-3/1-2	1-4/1-3
Sling Stone	1-4/1-4	1-2/1-2	1-3/1-3
Self Bow Arrow	1-6/1-6	1-3/1-3	1-4/1-4

OUT ON A LIMB

Thomas Holsinger’s STRENGTH COMPARISON
TABLE left me somewhat confused. He
equated a strength of 18/00 with ogre strength,
which I agree with, (the PSIONICS section of the
PLAYER’S HANDBOOK, under “Expansion”,
states this) but under “Equivalent Monster
Strength” it says “21”. I consider 21 str. vastly
more powerful than a paltry 18/00, & here’s why.
The MONSTER MANUAL states that giants have
strengths of from 21-30. This doesn’t mean they <19-25>
are stronger than human-types, pound for pound.
They need this extra strength just to be able to
walk, or even breathe!

The feature in TD 13
(written by one Shlump da orc) showed that the
average hill giant weighs in at around 1000 lbs. I
don’t think anyone with 18/00 str. could even
move hauling this much weight, let alone fight.
Certain titans are stronger than average (for titans)
& can inflict 8d6 damage. Since maximum giant
strength is 30, I would put these titans at around
31-34(?). I hardly think trolls are as strong as ogres
& would give them a strength of about 17. Ogre magi
& ettins would rank with the lower 3 classes of
giants, according to their body weights.

TD 23’s
SORCEROR’S SCROLL states that at 19str., creatures <make & link>
get +3 to hit & +7 damage, and at 20str., +3
to hit & +8 to damage. These figures would rise
sharply beyond 20str. I would like to point out that
the hit prob. & damage bonuses don’t usually
apply to “monsters”, as their hit prob. & damages
are already computed into the charts (e.g. a kobold
needs an 18 to hit a man in plate mail, but a titan
needs only a 4), & if they are using weapons they
probably won’t receive a hit prob. or damage
bonus, as few are adept enough with weapons to
receive any.

I consider dwarves, elves, gnomes, halflings, &
humans to have about the same average strength,
unlike Mr. Holsinger’s table, which gives gnomes &
halflings an average strength of 4!! Anyone who’s
had characters slaughtered by crazed gnomes can
tell you they’re a lot stronger than that. Besides, the
PLAYER’S HANDBOOK shows that the minimum
strengths for either race (male or female) is 6! I
wouldn’t rate brownies, leprechauns, or pixies so
low either. They may be small, but they aren’t
helpless. All in all, I would rate Mr. Holsinger’s
article as fair. He tries to impose some kind of order
to the rating of various monsters’ strengths, & only
partially succeeds.

Sincerely,
Crain Strenseth — SD
(The Dragon #30)
[edit]
 

Your comments vis-a-vis the Strength Comparison
article are best answered by the author. I
hope to have his reply next month.

—ED.
(Tim Kask)
(The Dragon #30)
[edit]

'Inconsistencies'
Dear Editor,

Craig Stenseth had some comments on my <find & link>
Strength Comparison article in the Out On A Limb
section of TD #30 which merit a reply.  First, I hope
that TD #29 with the second part of my article
answered some of his questions (the articles were
erroneously published separately).  Second, it appears
that those points of my article which he disliked
most are due to a failure of my ideas to mesh
fully with other parts of D&D, AD&D and other
articles in The Dragon.  My tables were written in
March of 1978 when most of the other matter he
referred to had not been published.  I rewote them
and broke the tables into 2 articles at the urging
of the staff of The Dragon when I submitted them to
TD in the spring of 1979.  SO by the time they were
published in the summer of 1979, much had come
out that contradicted what I had written 15 months
before.

Mr. Stenseth almost answered his own question
about the relative strengths of the smaller than
man-sized creatures compared to humans, in his
earlier comments about giant strength. The crucial
point is known to armored warfare types as the
horsepower-to-weight ratio. A 35 kg goblin is much
stronger proportionately than a 65 kg human who
has been afflicted with a girdle of goblin strength.

I assigned an equivalent monster strength of 19
to human strength of 18/76-90, and monster
strength of 20 to human strength of 18/91-99, etc.,
because I felt like doing it that way. Hargrave and
Gygax do it differently with their tables. So what?
My article was clearly labeled a variant and specifically
stated that some changes had been made
from AD&D. Nor is AD&D consistent; the Monster
Manual does say that giants have strengths of
21-30 but the Dungeon Masters Guide gives them
strengths of 19-24. (The Monster Manual figures
are wrong and should agree with the DMG— see
Monster Manual errata elsewhere in this issue—Ed.)

You can find inconsistencies in everything if
you look hard enough. The rules of AD&D, and
those of any other fantasy role-playing games, are
just that, rules. They merely provide a means
whereby the players can act out roles within a
fantasy world of the referee’s creation (though
some FRPG rules are tied to specific backgrounds,
such as Empire of the Petal Throne, Runequest
and Chivalry & Sorcery). As such, FRPG rules are
at best attempts to simulate a realistic “feel” in
events such as melee combat. Game designers
have a difficult enough time devising melee mechanics
that are truly realistic when only humans are
involved, without adding impossibly large monsters
to the fighting.

Giants cannot exist as given in AD&D, for
physiological reasons. Their legs would have to be
much broader in proportion to their height and
their cardiovascular system would be a nightmare.
Giants would not look at all human and probably
could not exist at all. Some game designers make
arbitrary assumptions and write arbitrary rules just
to make things work. Many points have to be compromised
along the way in any game and especially
in a fantasy role-playing game. The difference
between a good and bad FRPG is the skill with
which the designer has made the unavoidable
trade-offs between playability and the “realistic
feel” of play.

My article represented my own gropings in this
direction almost two years ago.  I was one of the
outside commentators for the DMG draft (second
behind Len Lakofka in nonsense submitted) and I
learned a lot about FRPG game design in working
on the project.  My present thinking on the subject
of my earlier articles is that distinctions should be
made between damage due to weapon size (and
weight) and wielder strength, and also between hit
points due to body size and hit points due to skill.
This means, however, that we would be talking
about an entirely different game than AD&D and I
have in consequence started working on my own
FRPG.

Thomas Holsinger <link>
—Turlock, CA
(The Dragon #35)
 

I hope this reply from the author of the articles
in question clears up any misunderstanding
created when the two were run in different issues of
The Dragon.  However, I will take issue on one
point.

There seems to be some sort of movement
towards “realism” (whatever that means) in
fantasy role-playing game rules. Why? And how
are these new rules less arbitrary than the so-called
“unrealistic” rules?

Fantasy, by the definition of the word, is unrealistic
or improbable. A set of rules for roleplaying
using nothing but the laws of nature (What
would one call such rules? Reality role-playing?)
would prohibit 75% of the material in any currently
available set of rules.

The point is, fantasy role-playing rules are
designed to create a structure in which players can
role-play or “act out” or fantasize, or whatever you
want to call the act of play, actions otherwise
impossible or improbable in reality. Sure, it’s
physiologically impossible for an AD&D giant to
exist. But is that any more “unreal” than the ability
to cast a fireball? Why worry about it? It’s fantasy!

Now, The Dragon publishes variants to games
in every issue—not that I as editor, or TSR Periodicals
as a division of TSR Hobbies, Inc. feels that
they are necessary to any given game, or that in
some fashion they make the game more “real.”
The Dragon exists as a forum for game players and
to serve the hobby. If a variant improves the mechanics
of a set of rules, or introduces a new,
unknown factor into a game, and thereby provides
more enjoyment for the players, or helps balance
an unbalanced game, it has served its purpose.

But if a variant professes to make a set of fantasy
game rules more “real,” it is merely an exercise
in semantics that results in a contradiction of
term.

I hope Mr. Ho/singer’s FRPG rules eventually
are published commercially so we may all compare
them to other FRPG rules. I, for one, will be very
interested in seeing how his system is more “real.”

—Jake
(The Dragon #35)
 

Realism 101

Dear Editor:
I believe you misconstrued the nature of my
comments about realism in my letter to Out On
A Limb in TD #35. I was not saying that the
melee system in my proposed game is more
“real(istic)” than that of AD&D. My comments
were aimed at Mr. Stenseth’s criticism of my
Strength Comparison Table as being unrealistic.
I was trying to point out that FRPG’s are inherently
unrealistic and the FRPG designers have to
do the best they can under the <CIRCUMSTANCES>.

Your sensitivity to comments about realism
is understandable, though. My hackles go up for
exactly the same reasons. Most people use
“realism” in a loose fashion and do not distinguish
between what Richard Berg called
“Perceived Realism” and “Actual Realism” in
his Forward Observer column in SPI’s MOVES
magazine. Mr. Berg used the terms in a pejorative
fashion and I prefer to define them as “Subjective”
and “Objective” realism because each
is an essential element of game design.

Objective realism is generally that background
information worked into a game which is
objectively quantifiable or generally agreed
upon as being or having been the true state of
affairs. Subjective realism means those details
that the players of a game perceive as being
realistic, whether or not they are objectively
realistic. If the subjective realism is also objectively
realistic, so much the better.

Fantasy games and science-fiction games
are unique in that their designers are allowed to
create their own “objective reality” within certain
limits. This is commonly known as the
process of world-creation. My own term for it is
“game reality.” Game reality differs from objective
reality in that the designer has either altered
certain natural laws (or created new ones), or
altered historical reality (sometimes extrapolating
upon existing history), or sometimes both,
as in TSR’s Gamma World.

It has been my experience that any alteration
by a game designer of historical reality and/or
natural laws, to create his own “game reality,”
must be handled very carefully. Otherwise, the
divergence from objective reality will develop a
snowballing (positive feedback) effect in which
the logical implications and side effects of the
initial alterations will necessarily entail still more
divergences, and greater ones, until the whole
thing spirals out of control and the game is a
shambles. It is therefore necessary when creating
“game reality” to have a precise and limited
game effect in mind and to have a high degree of
intellectual honesty and ruthlessness in weeding
out concepts that threaten to snowball or threaten
other elements of the game.

One of the chief methods used to deal with
problems of this sort is the application of a
special rule to minimize the adverse side effects
of a particular element of game reality. Two
problems tend to crop up with this response. A
proliferation of special rules to compensate for
fundamental defects in design is a good way to
make an otherwise adequate game unplayable.
The other common problem is that special rules
are inherently arbitrary, and the use of them to
minimize flaws in other rules is often perceived
by the players as being unfair. Then they ignore
the special rules they don’t like.

Special rules are best used to add some interesting
details, commonly called “chrome,” to
a game and they are quite useful in that form
though fantasy game designers tend to overdo
it. There will be time, however, when a FRPG
designer has no choice but to use a special rule
as a “quick fix” for an inherent design flaw.

The respect players have for this sort of
“quick fix” will depend in large measure on the
degree to which the designer has been fair and
consistent in the creation of his “game reality.”
All FRPGs employ arbitrary rules and conventions
to deal with the fantasy elements. Arbitrary
lines have to be drawn somewhere between
what is allowable and what isn’t. If one of these
unavoidable arbitrary rules and/or conventions
coincides with a “quick fix” special rule, the
players will often think that the designer is cheating
and they will ignore the special rule. This will
vary from game to game depending on the type
of players a game attracts. D&D players are an
unruly and fractious lot, while Runequest types
are more respectful of authority. Gary Gygax
may seem a bit testy, but he has good reasons.

I cannot emphasize enough that “realism” is
an irrelevant term when dealing with FRPGs.
Designers create their own reality with such
games, and a better test is how true the designer
has been to the alternative reality set forth in his
game.
 

Tom Holsinger
—Turlock, CA
(The Dragon #37)
 

Realism 102

Dear Jake,
In the letter column of TD #35, you asked a
very good question: “There seems to be some
sort of movement towards ‘realism’ (whatever
that means) in fantasy role-playing game rules.
Why?” You expressed the opinion that fantasy
gaming consists of playing out actions that are
impossible in reality, and that therefore attempts
to be realistic in writing rules for such gaming are
doomed to failure. While I agree in part, I think
you have missed the point.

Granted, certain things cannot exist exactly
as they are portrayed in myth, such as the giants
whose expanded scale is not possible, at least for
creatures like you and me made of ordinary flesh
and bone. Granted, magic doesn’t work in our
world, at least not as dependably as technology.
Does this make an attempt at realism impossible?

No, it does not. Fantasy gaming at its best
allows the gamer to participate in living through
a fantasy story, and for that reason some of the
rules that apply to story writing apply to fantasy
gaming. One of these is the necessity of main-
taining in the reader or gamer the “willing suspension
of disbelief” that allows one to accept
the premises of the situation in order to enjoy the
story. Ursula K le Guin recently put this very
well in a book review in The Washington Post’s
Book World, page five, on March 23, 1980:
“Effective works of fantasy are distinguished by
their often relentless accuracy of detail, by their
exactness of imagination, by the coherence and
integrity of their imagined world—by, precisely,
their paradoxical truthfulness. . . . An infallible
sign of amateur or careless fantasy writing is the
blurred detail, the fudged artifact, the stupid
anachronism that proclaims, ‘This is just a fantasy,
folks, so it doesn’t really matter.’ It matters
more in fantasy than anywhere else, since in
fantasy we stand on no common mundane
ground, but have only the fantasist to trust. . . If
he lets us down—pffft.” The success of the author
to convince us that everything else is true to
life is a necessary element in storytelling, for
without it we will not be willing to take the next
step and believe the fantastic parts of the story,
be it magic spells, monsters, or whatever.

When someone writes that part of the rules
to a fantasy game are “unrealistic,” what the
underlying complaint comes down to is that the
rules do not allow the user to move freely
through the fantasy. If you are constantly being
startled by false details that shock you into stopping
and asking, “Does it really work that way?”
then the game designer has not done a good job
on that rule. This is why I find the expression that
“It’s just a fantasy” so exasperating when it is
used to explain part of a game—it shows that the
person who falls back on that excuse does not
understand the essence of the subject. The ideal
set of rules would allow the gamer to feel the
armor on the character’s body and the bite of the
sword, the smell of sweat and the pounding of
the blood as you race up the hill. Realism of any
sort is the kind of detail that helps convince you
that the story you are in is truthful in its essence,
even if the details are not true to what we think of
as the real world. Fantasy, to be successful, must
be taken seriously by all concerned designer,
GM, and gamer. So I hope you will try to show a
bit more sympathy to the poor souls who write
you asking for more realism in their games, for
their complaint is not frivolous.

Of course, it is impossible to completely
simulate every detail of real life in a game. You
would be flooded with more data than you could
handle, or would ever want to. But game rules
can be written in such a way as to aid the gamer
instead of presenting roadblocks to enjoyment. I
would like to see more effort put into writing
rules in two parts, the basic mechanics of play
plus an explanation of what the designer was
trying to simulate with that rule. This would get
the gamer to thinking about what’s happening in
the game instead of worrying so much about
mechanics, and should help with that “willing
suspension of disbelief.”
 

John T. Sapienza, Jr <link>
—Washington, D.C.
(The Dragon #37)
 

Semantics 201

I seemed to have opened a can of worms
with my reply to Mr. Holsinger’s letter in TD
#35 regarding realism in fantasy role-playing.
Perhaps I should have been a bit more detailed
in my reply.

Both Mr. Holsinger and Mr Sapienza feel I
missed the point of the letter—perhaps so, but
Mr. Holsinger’s original letter used phrases such
as ". . . melee mechanics that are truly realistic. . ."
and ". . . the unavoidable trade-offs
between playability and the 'realistic feel' of
play . . ."  Maybe I'm arguing semantics, but I
still refute the concept of "realism" in FRPGs;
call it "rationalized in a
more logical fashion" and I might buy it (although
whose logic do we use?), but not "more
realistic."

Actually, it seems that, in principle, Mr.
Holsinger, Mr. Sapienza, and I all agree, as they
both provide qualified definitions of what they
refer to as “realism,” Mr. Holsinger with his
terms of “objective realism” vs. “subjective
realism” or as he culls it, “game reality,” and Mr.
Sapienza with his “. . . realism of any sort is the
kind of detail that helps convince you that the
story you are in is truthful in its essence. . . .” I
personally prefer the term “rationalize,” which
my dictionary defines as “‘to bring into accord
with reason or cause something to seem
reasonable.”

OK, semantics aside, rationalization, or
game reality, or whatever, is of extreme importance
in fantasy role-playing game design. As it
happens, when I co-authored GAMMA
WORLD, I was responsible for writing the introductory
material that sets up the environment of
the game, extrapolating, or “rationalizing,” if
you will, the reasons for the game being played
in the environment it is.  I felt I could accept the
possibility of man nearly destroying his world,
then being forced to survive in the remains.  But
it is still fantasy--I could just have easily set
forth an invasion of aliens from Cappella blowing <capella=x>
away the Earth, and set the same scenario.
The rationalization would have been less effective,
but the setting of the game would not have
been any less "real."

The key to a good fantasy role-playing
game, or a good fantasy novel, as Mr. Sapienza
points out, is the “willing suspension of disbelief.”
This requires a careful rationalization of
the facts as they are put forth to the player or the
reader. In the case of GAMMA WORLD, I felt it
was harder to willingly suspend my disbelief of
aliens from Cappella than it was to accept man’s
penchant for violence over such intangibles as
political and theological ideologies. Thus, GW
has the intro it has.

Alright, having beaten that horse enough, on
to my next point of disagreement: Where is the
justification for the statement “D&D players are
an unruly and fractious lot while Runequest
types are more respectful of authority.”? I am
unwilling to suspend my disbelief of a sweeping
generality.

—Jake
(The Dragon #37)