YES | - | - | - | NO |
Dragon 66 | - | - | - | Dragon |
YES.
SPELL-USERS SHOULD BE ABLE
TO USE "FORBIDDEN" WEAPONS —
BUT WITH DECREASED DAMAGE
BY JOHN SAPIENZA
NO.
RULE RESTRICTIONS
ON WEAPON USAGE
ARE FIRM AND FAIR
BY BRUCE HUMPHREY
The magic-user | - | - | - | The cleric |
YES
SPELL-USERS SHOULD BE ABLE
TO USE "FORBIDDEN" WEAPONS —
BUT WITH DECREASED DAMAGE
BY JOHN SAPIENZA
Every edition of the D&D® rules has distinguished between
the combat ability of various character classes by limiting the
weapons that could be used. The magic-user was limited to a
dagger as the weapon of last resort, the cleric was limited to
blunt weapons, while the fighter was allowed to use any weapon
desired but strongly encouraged to use the sword by virtue
of the fact that it has the best damage range on the weapons list.
In effect, mages were limited to d4 weapons, clerics to d6
weapons, and fighters steered toward d8 weapons.
In gaming terms, this makes perfectly good sense. Mages
have arcane powers and need to be limited in other areas to
keep them from dominating the game; fighters are weaponmasters
and need a system to express this; and the classes in
between need to be kept at a middling level of skill to favor
fighters in their specialty.
The problems arose on the role-playing side of the hobby, for
the rules dictated results without giving any explanation for the
reasons. There were even inconsistencies in the rules, such as
the existence for mages of +1 staffs, implying that mages could
use non-magical staffs as two-handed weapons as part of their
training because they had the skill to use the magical versions.
The worst problem was the limitation on clerics. The original
rules stated that the D&D game was open-ended as to societies
in which the DM set the campaign, with gods of any pantheon
available for clerics to follow. Yet the rules on clerics contained
many provisions that tied D&D clerics tightly to medieval
Christianity,
and in particular this included the rule limiting clerics to
blunt weapons. A mace was the proper weapon of a crusading
warrior-priest, perhaps, but this weapon choice made no sense
at all for a cleric whose god was always depicted in the temple
statuary with a sword or a spear — to use a different weapon
would be an affront to the cleric’s own deity. As a matter of
role-playing, the rule was a mistake, regardless of the gamebalance
goals that were the reason the rule was used.
There are also problems for fighters in the existing D&D
rules. In a tightly run, closed campaign, all the characters are
born in the area and grow up learning the weapons and armor
customary to the folk. But in most games, characters are drifters,
often from far lands and with strange garb, gear, and beliefs.
It makes poor role-playing sense to have every fighter
marching in lockstep with every other because the game rules
make one weapon the only sensible thing to use — yet that is
what happens in a D&D game. Only a hardened role-player
is
going to use anything but a sword, when the rules make the
sword the only single-handed d8 weapon on the list, most
others being d6 weapons regardless of description.
The wargaming considerations that guided the drafting of
the D&D rules have run roughshod over role-playing considerations,
it seems to me. One’s character’s choice of weapons
ought to depend on background cultural influences, including
racial preferences, as well as professional ones. I think it is
desirable to change the rules to encourage greater diversity of
choice — but how to achieve this while still keeping the different
character classes from becoming equal in terms of typical
damage done with their weapons of choice?
The solution to this might be to re-examine the rules on
weapon damage. This is a touchy subject, on which many
people consider themselves experts. Since I know perfectly
well that I am not an expert on this, I offer the following
suggestion
with some diffidence.
It seems to me that perhaps weapons cannot be defined with
great precision as to what damage they do, so what we really
are talking about is distinctions between weapon groups by
size and mass, rather than by shape and operation. I would
therefore not have one d8 weapon, a lot of d6 weapons, and a
few d4 weapons. Instead, I would change it to a lot of weapons
which in the hands of experts will do d8 damage, a smaller lot of
weapons that in the hands of experts will do d6 damage, and a
very few d4 weapons. The distinction in the new system would
not be by weapons, but by degree of training of the users.
The character classes in the D&D rules are divided basically
into fighters who are expert warriors, magic-users who are
completely incompetent in melee (at least in theory), and a
bunch of other types in between. In other words, D&D characters
fall into fighters, semi-fighters, and non-fighters in terms of
role models. Why not align weapon damage accordingly? An
expert would be able to get full potential damage out of a
weapon, a person given limited training with arms would be
able to get lesser damage, while a person untrained with weapons
would be able to get only a bare minimum from an unfamiliar
tool picked up in a panicked, last-hope defense.
Single-handed weapons would almost always do d8 damage
in the hands of a fighter, the master of weapons. This includes
the broad sword, battle axe, mace, war hammer, etc., and would
apply to fighters of most humanoid races allowed in the game,
which (depending on which edition of the D&D rules you are
using) includes humans, elves, and dwarves. Smaller creatures
such as halflings would be limited to smaller weapons in a
middle category, such as the gladius short sword. So would
full-size folk in unusual circumstances, such as an officer
forced to use a dress sword unexpectedly; these would do d6 in
the hands of experts. Thieves, who are limited to light, easily
concealed weapons because of the nature of their activities,
would use d6 weapons also, while as a mixed class they would
be limited to d6 damage even if using heavier weapons. The
same is true of clerics — a cleric with a broad sword would do
d6 damage. The reason for this is that, because they spend only
part of their time perfecting their combat skills, they cannot get
as much damage capability out of a weapon as a true expert
could. A magic-user or other non-fighting class would do only
d4 damage with unfamiliar weapons picked up, including that
broad sword, again due to lack of skill. Because the mage
spends all of his or her time locked up with arcane grimoires
learning new spells, there is no time for someone of this profession
to acquire the skill needed to do better than this. So, that d4
dagger is as good as can be had, and a lot easier to carry, too.
Because this is a weapons expertise system, the lack-of-skill
rationale could be applied to any character, regardless of class,
who picks up a totally unfamiliar weapon. That is to say, you
could promote role-playing by forcing players to choose what
weapons a character will specialize in, with four weapons for
fighters, three for semi-fighters, and two for non-fighters
(dagger and staff for mages as their single-handed and doublehanded
weapons — and no throwing daggers, that’s a separate
skill!). Attempting to learn a new weapon would have the character
(if a fighter) doing d6 damage for one level of experience
before getting it up to d8 expertise, while a semi-fighter would
do d4 damage for one level of experience before getting up to
d6 with the new weapon. Mages don’t go around learning new
weapons, and should be told so firmly. The same applies to
clerics and other semi-fighters who ask for more training to
improve their damage up to fighter level — they don’t have time
enough to improve that much.
This system, admittedly, bunches all weapons pretty much
into two categories, single-handed weapons of d8 and doublehanded
weapons of d12 maximum damage. I put the twohanded
weapons two dice sizes up for fighters to make up for
the significant loss in armor protection that not being able to
use a good magic shield can bring (but would limit mages to d6
damage with staff anyway). For those of you who feel that
weapons need to be more differentiated, you can always do that
by using a weapons vs. armor system. The point to using this
system is that it allows greater freedom in role-playing by making
weapons choice one of cultural and religious considerations,
while maintaining game balance.
WEAPON DAMAGE TABLE
------> Character Category
Weapon Category | Fighters | Semi-fighters | Non-fighters |
One-handed weapons | - | - | - |
Battle axe | d8 | d6 | d4 |
Broad sword | d8 | d6 | d4 |
Dagger | d4 | d4 | d4 |
Halfling weapons | d6 | d4 | -- |
Rapier | d6 | d4 | d4 |
Short sword | d6 | d4 | d4 |
Spear | d8 | d6 | d4 |
Thor's hammer (sledgehammer) | d8 | d6 | d4 |
War hammer (war pick) | d8 | d6 | d4 |
- | - | - | - |
Two-handed weapons | - | - | - |
Great axe | d12 | d8 | d4 |
Great hammer (military sledge) | d12 | d8 | d4 |
Great mace (maul) | d12 | d8 | d4 |
Great sword | d12 | d8 | d4 |
Halfling weapons | d10 | d6 | - |
Hand-and-a-half sword | d10 | d8 | d4 |
Lance (heavy spear) | d12 | d8 | d4 |
Lucerne hammer (military pick) | d12 | d8 | d4 |
Pole arms (halberd, pike, etc.) | d12 | d8 | d4 |
Quarterstaff | d12 | d8 | d4 |
Staff, light | d10 | d6 | d6 |
- | - | - | - |
Throwing weapons | - | - | - |
Throwing axe (tomahawk) | d6 | d4 | - |
Throwing hammer | d6 | d4 | - |
Throwing knife | d4 | d4 | - |
Throwing spear (javelin) | d6 | d4 | - |
Missile weapons | Rate of fire | Fighters | Semi-fighters | Non-fighters |
Bow, long | 1/rd | d10 | d8 | - |
Bow, short | 1/rd | d8 | d6 | - |
Crossbow, light | 1/2rd | d10+1 | d8+1 | - |
Crossbow, medium | 1/4rd | 2d6+2 | d10+2 | - |
Crossbow, heavy (arbalest) | 1/6rd | 2d8+3 | d12+3 | - |
Sling, hand | 1/rd | d8 | d6 | - |
Sling, staff | 1/2rd | d10 | d8 | - |
“Semi-fighters” includes human clerics, druids, thieves, and
bards, and all combined-class characters such as elven fightermagic
users.
“Non-fighters” includes magic-users and illusionists.
The light staff (same size as a magic staff) is the only two-handed
weapon for which a M-U can receive combat training.
Magic-users do not learn the specialized skill of throwing a
dagger, or any other throwing or missile weapon. This is intentionally
restrictive, and should be strictly enforced if you want
to keep magic-users away from military skills. The throwing
weapons are all specialized weapons that are smaller than their
regular melee equivalents, hence the reduced damage.
The crossbow actually takes more time to use than shown,
but the figures given are workable. Since it is a lot easier to use a
crossbow accurately because you don’t struggle to hold the
string taut while aiming, I have made them +1 to hit for light, +2
to hit for medium, and +3 to hit for heavy crossbows, and this is
reflected in the damage figures. This benefit offsets the woefully
long time between shots. Hand-drawn bows really ought
to be given higher damage figures for realism, but given that the
archer gets in two to six times as many attacks as the crossbow
user, it seems better (for the sake of balance) to rate them as
shown for damage.
“. . . So I pick up the dropped sword,
and—”
“Wait a minute. You’re a magic-user,”
protests the DM. “You can’t use a sword.”
“Yeah? Why not?”
“I’ve been meaning to ask you the
same thing,” says a cleric, reaching for a
pike.
“But it’s in the rules,” is the DM’s only
plea to the mutinous pair.
The AD&D™ rules preventing magicusers
and clerics from employing certain
weapons often cause scenes like this.
The rules are necessary for play balance,
yet this is not enough for many players:
these rules should also be justified in
“logical” terms. And the DM should have
some effective (and consistent) recourse
when these rules are broken. Arguments
about Gandalf and Odin-worshipping
clerics carrying spears can destroy an
adventure, or at least the playing session,
so the importance of this topic
should not be undervalued.
The magic-user
What makes a magic-user tick? Judging
from the rules, the average mage has
excellent concentration, exercises precision
in what he does, a firm belief in the
success of his spells, and the calmness
necessary to bring about this success.
All these qualities are essential if he is to
“impress” spells on his mind, repeat the
words and movements exactly, and know
they will work. Being attacked while he is
casting a spell will negate the magic,
either because it breaks his concentration
or upsets the calmness he must
maintain. A nervous sorcerer, with doubts
about the efficacy of his spells, will not
be a sorcerer for long.
It has been suggested that it is not only
nervousness and lack of concentration,
but large quantities of metal, which upset
the delicate balances in a magic spell.
Many DMs of my acquaintance claim
that this factor alone would explain why
magic-users may not use weapons. In
part, this may be correct. A large amount
of metal (usually estimated at over twelve
ounces, or larger than the size of a
dagger) will tend to disrupt a spell unless
it is part of the material component of the
spell itself.
This would account for the “dagger
only” rule, but not for the prohibition
against using javelins, spears, or bows
(all of which have small metal heads, or
heads which are comfortably far from
the user’s body), nor with using all-wood
or bone-tipped spears (not a great alternative,
but seemingly viable for a creative
player). Using this loophole in the
“metal rule,” a creative group might try
snaring a strong magician with a metalbraided
rope, or throwing a metal shield
at him, in hopes of neutralizing his magical
talents.
Nor are all types of armor included in
this rationale, since leather and padded
armor can theoretically be made without
utilizing enough metal to bother the
spell-caster wearer. Because of these
difficulties, the “metal rule” is not a universal
enough reason for magic-users to
avoid using weapons.
Because of the nature of the magic-user’s
mental makeup, there are several
psychological reasons which can be advanced
for the weapon restrictions on
magic-users. Because these “psychological
reasons” are in the caster’s mind,
they remain with him at all times, and
cannot be voided without eliminating his
usefulness in magic as well. Since magic
use is a taught skill, the limitations are
passed on from teacher to pupil, accounting
for the all-encompassing and
continuing aspects of these restrictions.
The main reason magic-users can’t
wear armor is the inhibiting characteristics
of this form of defense. To cast
spells, the magic-user must be relatively
free to move — and this involves not just
physical freedom, but psychic freedom as
well. A mage in armor feels as constrained
as if he were physically tied up.
The very act of spell casting is a claim for
total freedom, for the mage is reaching
out to another place, free from the restrictions
of other men. For such a person
to be constantly (or even temporarily)
wearing armor — which reduces
freedom — is absurd. Robes and cloaks,
the traditional garb of magic-users, are
loose and free-flowing clothes, which
perhaps don’t enhance the “bid for freedom”
but certainly don’t work against it.
There is a symbolic aspect to the wearing
of armor as well, one which would
inhibit the magic-user’s subconscious.
Body armor symbolizes primary concern
for the physical world, framing the mindset
for fighting and other bodily concerns.
The profession of the magic-user
is concerned with the world of the mind,
and the continued wearing of such protection
would draw his thoughts away
from his spells toward more concrete
concerns, no matter how dedicated his
original plans were.
The weapon prohibitions are also
bound to symbolism. The tools of combat
and the thought mode for their use
are the antithesis of the skills and
thoughts used in magic, and so are pro-
foundly disturbing to magic-users. This
also explains the natural antipathy between
fighters and mages. The use of
such potent, purely physical, modes of
combat symbolizes, for the magic-user,
the forsaking of magic and the acceptance
of the fighter’s world and values.
The use of any weapon, other than the
obviously defensive dagger and quarterstaff
(these may also be justified, in the
M-U’s subconscious, as tools useful for
more than just fighting), contradicts the
mind-set of the magic-user, turning him
into a weak and untrained fighter. The
armor justification is tied in to this, in
that wearing armor admits the weakness
of the magic-user’s own spells and the
need for such protection. His decision to
wear armor, or use prohibited weapons,
introduces the fear of failure into the
M-U’s, psyche, making any subsequent
attempt at magic useless.
What happens to a magic-user who
uses a prohibited weapon or wears armor?
The first occurrence results in the
loss of all the rest of his spells for that
day. He cannot use spells again at all
until he spends a 24-hour period in contemplation.
For more severe “first offenses,”
the M-U may be required to forfeit
10% of his experience points, and/or
be beset with one form of insanity for a
period of weeks equal to 20 minus the
M-U’s wisdom score.
The second time a
magic-user so assaults his own sensibilities
results in his losing all spell-casting
abilities. One use of a prohibited weapon
or armor means the use of such an item
in one combat encounter, for the duration
of that (single) battle, no matter how
many rounds it lasts.
Like the magic-user, the cleric has
certain
psychological requirements to be
met for the successful casting of his
spells. Primary is the feeling of holiness,
the sense of being in touch with his deity.
Factors in this are calmness, thoughts
pleasing to the god, and self-assurance.
The cleric must have no doubts as to his
personal worthiness to act as the tool of
his god. These are the thoughts which
affect the cleric’s choice of weapons.
The cleric seems to be modeled on the
medieval priest, who was (officially) forbidden
to use weapons which purposely
spilled blood. But it has been contended
(primarily by players of cleric characters)
that certain gods who use sacred
weapons would promote the use of similar
weapons by their priests, either for
identification, or for a feeling of kinship
with the god. The ban on the use of weapons
other than the “smashing” type can
be justified, however, and this justification
especially applies to chaotics and
evil types, who would be the first to object
to the rule.
Blood is the primary reason for the
restriction, not because of a ban on the
spilling of blood, but rather because of
the presence of the element itself. Holy
thoughts and feelings of closeness to a
deity are not easily mixed with violent
death and spurting blood. An evil cleric
would quickly lose his calm facade, becoming
enamored with the idea of hacking
and murder. A neutral would find it
distasteful to contact the fluid, and good
types would find it positively abhorrent.
These all pertain primarily to combat,
not to the holy spilling of blood, which
involves a cleansing ritual and certain
selfless feelings. Unless it is “purified,”
blood disrupts the sacred thoughts flowing
through a cleric’s mind, and the mind
would later continue to dwell on the
memory of the sight. Any religion which
specifically promotes the spilling of
blood only does so in certain prescribed
rituals, not in the haphazard way of
combat. Spilling blood for a deity becomes
almost sacrilegious if done outside
of such a ritual. (At least for a cleric,
such a ritual would not include wading
into battle while yelling, “Blood for my
Lord Arioch!“)
Additionally, players must remember
that the main goal of any religion is to
gain converts. There is also the matter of
punishing the wicked (usually in the
course of requiring their repentance).
Maces and club-type weapons are well
suited for both punishment and conversion
(while making certain that the convert’s
skin stays whole), without being
necessarily “killing” instruments. The
mere presence of such tools reminds the
cleric of his duty to his god and his duty
to convert sinners and unbelievers, causing
him to feel closer to attaining his
ultimate goal.
In a similar vein is the symbolism behind
the mace and other club-type weapons,
which comes to the fore in the
hands of a cleric. Staff-like weapons portray
the cleric’s role in divine matters
much as the rod (similar in form) is a
symbol of kingship. Clerics are taught
this connection and it becomes deeply
ingrained in their minds. A union between
the weapon he uses and his right
to perform the holy spells of his office is
formed in the cleric’s mind. His weapon
promotes his feeling of sanctity.
The combination of the cleric’s psychological
need for a certain weapon
and the disquiet involving impure bloodletting
sets certain restrictions on the
clerical mind.
Should a cleric take up a
pointed or edged weapon and use it, the
effects are devastating. His feeling of
impurity will prevent him from using any
clerical spells until a cleric at least three
levels higher casts a Bless spell on him.
In any case, he will lose 10% of his experience
points and will (wisdom times five
percent of the time) feel the need to go
on a holy quest or a pilgrimage.
The second
time he commits this transgression,
he loses his clerical powers altogether,
usually becoming the equivalent of a
first-level fighter.
OUT ON A LIMB
‘The nature of faith’
Dear Editor:
I enjoyed seeing my article on the use of
weapons of choice in DRAGON #66 printed
with a rebutting article by Bruce Humphrey,
defending the rules limiting certain character
classes to specific weapons. Bruce’s approach
concerning magic-users and his suggested
psychological aversion to using physical
weapons and defenses being an essential part
of the mindset required to cast magic spells
was interesting. It’s certainly as valid an excuse
for the rules as any I’ve seen, if you can
talk your players into seeing it that way. The
opposite approach is the gamer who plays his
MU as wearing daggers stuffed into his boots,
belt, and backpack in profusion, with protection
rings and spells letting him jump into
melee!
I strongly disagree with Bruce concerning
clerics, however. Here we part company on
the very nature of religious faith. It seems to
me that Bruce insists on transferring the
Christian aversion to the shedding of blood to
the priests of all pagan deities. He argues that
even less-than-good deities would limit their
clerics from spilling blood in other than ritual
grounds and temples. The problem with this
is that it ignores the gods of war. Granted that
most religions that required blood sacrifice,
including human sacrifice, did so for the most
part at the altar or sacred grove in ritual conditions.
But the logical place for a sacrifice to a
god of war is on the battlefield, and a study of
history yields a number of instances in which
societies were formed around this concept.
The most extreme example of this was the
war god of the Aztecs. Most primitive early
cultures had fertility or nature deities to whom
blood sacrifices were offered every year to
insure the end of winter and the blossoming
of crops to maintain the life of the tribe. The
Aztecs carried this idea to extremes; unlike
the early Greeks, who only made sacrifices
once a year, the Aztecs went to war with
neighboring tribes to feed the earth with
blood in honor of the gods.
The most extreme example of this was the
war god of the Aztecs. Most primitive early
cultures had fertility or nature deities to whom
blood sacrifices were offered every year to
insure the end of winter and the blossoming
of crops to maintain the life of the tribe. The
Aztecs carried this idea to extremes; unlike
the early Greeks, who only made sacrifices
once a year, the Aztecs went to war with
neighboring tribes to feed the earth with
blood in honor of the gods.
I’d like to avoid pointless arguments over
the different standards appropriate to different
gods in each section of the AD&D ninefold
alignment system. Whether or not shedding
blood seems “good” or “neutral” or “evil”
to you is beside the point in discussing the
weapons that would be selected by the clerics
of a specific god. If a god uses weapons at all,
and at least half of the gods are so described,
then it logically follows that the worshipers of
that god will use the same weapons for the
same purpose their patron deity does, in
furtherance of his commands. If a cleric is a
follower of a war god, he is going to regard
spilling blood as an inherent part of his duties
— and a mere incident to the main activity,
which is killing enemies.
The argument that the mace is a symbol of
authority because it resembles the rod or
sceptre is also spurious. In a world in which
the gods are real, and can be called upon for
aid, the symbol of authority carried by a priest
of a specific god will be the kind of thing that
characterizes the god’s function in the universe.
A god is generally symbolized by one
specific thing, such as the bow for Diana, the
spear for Odin, and so forth. A weapon
is of
itself a symbol of authority, and a priest who
carries his god’s favorite weapon is a symbol
of the authority of the god himself, who
stands behind the priest and gives him his
power and station in society. Therefore, it is
hard to believe that a priest of a warlike god
would ever feel comfortable without that
weapon, specific to his patron god, either in
hand or within easy reach.
This is at least the second time such arguments
have appeared in DRAGON, but they
are just as culture-blind today as in the past.
The problem with this approach to rationalizing
rules is that it ignores the society the
character lives in, the religion the character
believes in, and the fundamental role-playing
assumptions that go into creating a character
who is a cleric of a pagan deity. Instead, we
get a warmed-over and disguised version of
Christianity poured into the wrong molds. To
which I respond: Nonsense. Play a medieval
Christian warrior-priest under the mace-limit,
but don’t try to force that rule on my priest of
Odin, because when you do so the game
ceases to be a role-playing activity in any
meaningful sense. May I suggest a study of
history as a source of role models?
John T. Sapienza, Jr.
Washington, D. C.
(Dragon #68)