Weighing Wealth, Weighing Words

At my table, I have preferred a simple encumbrance system based on the ancient stone weight measurement, where one stone is equivalent to 14lbs. Recently I noticed that the Adventurer Conqueror King System also prefers measuring by stone (albeit at a slightly different conversion—the historical stone changed in value over time), which inspired me to flesh out my encumbrance system in more detail.

Like others before me, I prefer to keep a ratio of 1,000 coins to one stone, so that there are 72 coins per pound (incidentally, I do not use pounds for any measurements in the game). This is closer to ancient treasure caches like the Frome Hoard and steers clear of the implied chunky coins of Dungeons & Dragons. From this basis, I permit each character to lift up to their Strength characteristic in stones, which comports closely in effect to later editions of the game (so that an average Strength 11 allows one to carry 154 lbs). However, moving at any more than a shuffle requires that the carried weight also not exceed the character's Constitution (representing their stamina). Furthermore, acting carefully (such as climbing, walking along an edge or fighting) requires that the load also does not exceed the character's Dexterity. To maintain balance, the hero has the option to drop everything in hand or risk falling otherwise. Thus, a character with Strength 12, Constitution 9 and Dexterity 14 could carry 12 stones, but could only move normally if this burden was reduced to 9 stones (the lowest of Strength and Constitution). Likewise, the hero could only fight if the burden was 9 stones (as acting carefully takes the lowest of all three scores).

Within this system, I tend to handwave equipment weights. I generally rule that light adventuring gear (clothes, a bedroll, backpack, candle and so on) only weighs two stones, while more extensive gear (torches, iron spikes, rope and so on) would increase this to three stones. Each weapon and all of its ammunition (beyond a dagger) is one stone each, as is a shield. Armour is typically one (AC 8 to 7), two (AC 6 to 5) or three stones in weight (AC 4 to 3). As mentioned earlier, each bag of 1,000 coins is another stone of weight. Everything else is made up on the spot, perhaps using Vornheim's syllable-counting system for heavy items (i.e., a "chest of trea-sure" could be four stones).

Addendum: While developing the system I had informally used at my table, I noticed that these same rules might be used to cover something entirely different as well: the tense diplomacy and maneuvering of social interactions. Here, a player will make a reaction roll of 2d6, modified by any Charisma adjustment. The referee then listens to the player's attempt to roleplay the encounter and secretly rolls a polyhedral die based on the roleplaying and the hidden disposition of the other party (normally a d6, but this could be a d4 for an accommodating stranger or a d8 or worse for a hostile group). Adding this disposition die to the adjusted reaction roll, the referee compares the sum to the speaker's Charisma score: if the result does not exceed the score, the party is not immediately hostile. Then, if the player attempts to maneuver or trick the non-player characters, this same value is similarly compared to the Intelligence of the spokesperson to see if he or she gives away the ruse. Finally, if this sum also does not exceed the Wisdom of the speaker, the player can pick up some subtle hint in the opponent's speech that gives clues to something they did not intend to reveal (but only if the Charisma eased the first contact and the player did not fail an attempt to trick or deceive the opponents). In this way, such a tense encounter would be based on both the roleplaying attempt and the scores of the character, so that each party would have a spokesperson. At the same time, such encounters would always be a gamble because the players only had half of the information and the disposition die result that completed the negotiation score would be hidden.

The Money-Changers of Minaria

Dealing with coin has always been one of the most utilitarian exercises in any Dungeons & Dragons campaign. It is a necessary evil that all referees and players engage in to translate conquest into capital. It is also one of the facets of the game that most stretches the imagination and suspension of disbelief, raising thorny questions like "why should all coins have a constant universal value across the entire expanse of the Known World?", "why are coins always evenly divisible into lesser or greater coinages?" or "why should these ancient coins from the dungeon still have currency back in the town?" The implication is that the fantasy setting has achieved what took Europe to the last years of the 20th century to figure out—a stable, universal currency system.

Of course, there are many different ways that game designers have tried to complicate the picture. Medieval fantasy markets might be tempered by inflation tables, availability charts or conversion rates. A referee might declare that each kingdom has its own coin mint and may not accept coinage from opposing lands. Applying any of these methods in an actual campaign quickly proves both highly complex and ultimately ineffective. It misses the point, after all. We are still dealing with the unholy triumvirate: Copper, Silver and Gold pieces. (Or is it the gruesome five: Copper, Silver, Electrum, Gold and Platinum?) No matter what additional layer of complexity you add to your campaign economy, you are still dealing with the universal basic building blocks of wealth, which convert dungeon triumphs to points of abstracted "cash" or "wealth."

In Minaria, everything works a little differently. You don't delve into the earth to plumb it for copper pieces and gold coins. Instead, you emerge (battered and shaken) with 1,350 coins from the lost Cisterian empire. Or perhaps you return from the Bugbear lair with the Duke's own personal treasure—some 560 shiny pieces of lucre. Here we find no generic points of wealth, but coinage with a story attached to it. As the greater part of Minarian society operates on barter, the heroes will need to find a buyer for their precious take, which is to say that the coins themselves do not necessarily hold inherent value as currency. Inn-keepers and armourers can do little with such moneys as they rarely take payments in specie, and flashing strange coinage around would likely raise the immediate and unwanted attention of the local Duke or Baron. Rather, the protagonists are well-advised to seek a local money-changer; someone who will buy the storied cache in exchange for credit in the local town, city or region. Once the heroes have successfully laundered their fortune, they will have full financing for their extravagant lifestyle and material acquisitions. For example, the players return with 800 tarnished silver coins of southern Kushite origin. After some negotiating, the major money-lender in the city agrees to purchase half of them for 220gp in credit, good throughout the province. This credit advance is probably in the form of some local currency (or perhaps a standing tab, or even an endorsed cheque)—a detail that is given a considerable amount of handwavium to gloss over the trivialities. Importantly, however, this credit does not carry over into different regions, meaning the protagonists would be wise to only sell what they need to of their hard-won treasure.

What does this actually do differently than the traditional copper piece, silver piece and gold piece system? Firstly, it introduces a level of mystery when the treasure chest is opened and the gleaming treasure trove is seen for the first time. Secondly, it further requires a little haggling when it comes time to pawn the riches off (which allows more referee control and even future adventures, if the party decides to sell the coins at a neighboring kingdom instead of locally). Thirdly, it gives each treasure a story of how it got there (and certainly the Baron will demand his coins back after the party recovers them from the sunken wreck). Finally, it ties wealth to the locale, without requiring the referee to adumbrate an entire global economy to explain why.

Height, Weight and Plate Armour

I have always struggled with how best to prevent character inheritance from spoiling the balance of my campaigns. This is brought into special relief by plate armour, which I give to newly rolled up Fighting-Men for cheap (50 coins, as per Men & Magic) and then sell for a much steeper price in the marketplaces of the campaign world. My reasoning is as follows: new warriors should already come equipped with the critical boost of plate armour, but such a powerful resource should be a pricy upgrade for later characters and henchmen. Yet at gaming tables as deadly as mine, those plucky warriors do end up dying, thus leaving their priceless plate for the rest of the party's malfeasance.

Plate armour, of course, is the nicest thing a low-level party has to inherit. At higher levels, inheritance does not cause such imbalance problems in my experience, so I can happily focus my efforts on the specific problem of plate armour. Loathe as I am to import overly artificial or contrived constraints on our favorite numeral three armour class, we must look to the particularities of the historical suit of full plate.

What immediately stands out is that, more so than any other piece of armour (let alone equipment), plate armour is custom tailored to its owner. Here, the height and weight of the wearer are of principle importance. Not only does transferring the suit to a new owner entail a thorough scrubbing to remove any remnants, but the body type of the new ward must be similar enough to the former, lest the suit require an extensive retooling to properly balance and fit comfortably. We must therefore provide a method to determine the height and weight of characters in OD&D. And Lo!;

Height
Human: 5 feet*
Elf: 4 feet*
Dwarf/Hobbit: 3 feet*
*Add 3d6 inches for males or 2d6 inches for females.

Weight
1 Stone per foot (rounded) + 2d6 (average build) or + 1d6 (slim) or + 3d6 (heavy)

For the uninitiated, this results in an average male hero of 5'11" and 182 lbs. If the dispossessed and the new owner are within 3" of height and 3 stone of weight, the inherited armour can be worn without difficulty. Otherwise, the armour must be retooled - to the price of a new suit of armour!

On Shields, Helmets and Mail

Enough attention has been given to weaponry lately that certainly armours deserve some like consideration. To wit, we shall casually observe some rules–old and new–for shields, helmets and mails; equipments donned by hopeful heroes seeking some protection against the monstrosities of the Underworld.

Shields
There is no need to reinvent the wheel here. With shields, we must note that the rules for Man-to-Man Combat in Chainmail allow one so furnished a superior deterrent against missile attack, particularly when combined with suits of armour. Strapping on a shield with plate armour or chain mail increases your protection against ranged weaponry by bounds (compared to the jejune static +1 of the "Alternative Combat System" found in Volume I). Alternately, we must also note that shields in Chainmail are easily obviated by particular weaponry. Battle axes have a nasty habit of cutting through such impediments, while flails can usually find their way around edge of the shield. Similarly, shields do little to absorb the weight of maces and other blunt strikes.

Regarding magical shields, it is important to recall that the armour class bonus for these items does not stack with the bonus of magical armour. Even when the shield's bonus is superior, it is only taken into account 1 in 3 times (see page 31 of Volume II). Perhaps this can be considered the same odds for the shield to catch a non-lethal projectile as well, instead of using armour class (a rotten tomato thrown by an angry peasant, for example).

If you want more cinematic shields, I recommend Trollsmyth's "Shields Shall be Splintered!" in its most basic form (i.e. mundane shields can be sacrificed to negate a hit, after the damage has been rolled). Magical shields can, perhaps, absorb a number of hits for "free" each session equal to their bonus (after which, they splinter!).

Helmets
These are included in Original Dungeons & Dragons without any explicit rules for their use. Volume II implies that magical helms are hit 10% of the time. For what it's worth, I prefer the Advanced Dungeons & Dragons rule whereby helmets are considered in the overall armour class and attackers will direct attacks against unprotected heads 1 in 6 times. If you are using Chainmail, this is easily represented by levying any attack roll that comes up doubles against the "no armour" column of the Man-to-Man Melee Table (this is also 1 in 6 times, with no particular weighting on strike probability).

Otherwise, helmets would give contextual protection against falling rocks, green slime dropping from the ceiling and so on. They should also limit vision and awareness, making such fighters easier to ambush.

Mails
Like those for helmets, the rules for armour are actually fairly scant in Original Dungeons & Dragons. Volume I implies that a more heavily armoured combatant moves more slowly (a holdover from Chainmail), although instead of using categories of armour ("Light Foot," "Heavy Foot" and "Armoured Foot"), the referee is apparently meant to use weight of equipment. To this effect, a warrior with chain mail, sword and shield could easily fall into the fastest category (12") while carrying extra gear into combat could quickly slow her down to the slower categories (9" and 6" movement a turn). Elves and Hobbits have the same 12" base movement as humans, according to Chainmail, while Dwarves halve this.

If you don't use encumbrance rules, I recommend simply allowing chain-type armour to subtract 3" from movement and plate mail to subtract 6" from movement. Either boost dwarf movement up to 9" to absorb this, or just disallow demihumans from wearing plate armour (incidentally, this is what I do in my campaigns).

In his micro-RPG inspired by OD&D, Searchers of the Unknown, Nicolas Dessaux makes armour class inversely proportional to both movement and initiative bonus. This is a clever way to truly represent how sluggish a warrior is in full armour. A simple way to represent this in Chainmail is to allow the combatant with the faster movement the title of "attacker" when two foes charge at each other. This gives the lighter-armoured opponent a little initiative in striking order, without displacing the importance of weapon class and the initiative roll.

Addendum: Movement
Many others have lamented the oddities that have always plagued movement rates in Dungeons & Dragons. For my part, I like the simplicity of converting outdoor yards to indoor feet, but Gary's figures are still quite baffling. While Volume III allows only two moves per turn (that is, 240 yards in 10 minutes), Chainmail does a little better and allows one move per round (120 yards in 1 minute). Arguably, the latter rate is still too slow, and was likely intended to account for things like keeping formation, waiting on battlefield commands and other delays that do not factor into the small scale skirmishes of man-to-man combat. In my games, I allow two moves per round (in place of, and immediately following, each missile fire). Thus, an unencumbered fighter can run (240 yards per round, or 8 miles per hour) or walk (120 yards per round, or 4 miles per hour). An encumbered Dwarf would move about a yard per second, which also seems right. This is all keeping in mind that close combat range is 3".

Spears & Swords in Chainmail

After a quiet May, chipping away at my Master's Thesis, I finally have a breather to talk shop again. I just want to briefly address the noble spear and sword, two ancient and remarkably versatile weapons that perhaps don't get all the respect they deserve in Chainmail.

The spear holds esteem as being the most ancient of elegant weapons - a simple design that invites a profound depth of mastery. Others have bewailed the poor sorts the spear has been dealt before. Indeed, a weapon that E.O. seemed to favor in his art has generally been relegated in Dungeons & Dragons to dealing less damage than the competition, with no advantage granted for its superior length and versatility.

Yet, Chainmail presents much more detailed rules for individual weapon types, and should more than account for the different strengths and weaknesses of each armament. The spear's high weapon class of 8 certainly allows it to strike first against a majority of weapons on the charge. After the first round, however, the high weapon class becomes a disadvantage, penalizing the spear with a subordinate striking order - a drawback meant to handicap unwieldy weapons like the two-handed sword or pike. The parry rules (which could equally represent the quick, warding jabs of the spearpoint) further punish high weapon class, meaning the spear is actually a terrible choice for a defensive weapon.

While I don't think, as Sham suggests in his article, that we need to see a proliferation of magical spears (in comparison to magical swords) to offset this imbalance, I would propose a simple house rule to better represent this humble but graceful weapon. But first, lets take a look at the treatment of the sword in Chainmail.

The sword is, of course, a classic weapon. The flexible design of the sword can be employed to jab, slash and parry with equal authority. Looking at the Man-to-Man Melee Table in Chainmail shows that the sword's weapon class represents this well - it is high enough to outreach simple maces, hand axes and daggers, while it is also low enough to strike faster than (and effectively parry) all other weapon types. The only apparent disadvantage is the low kill number for the sword. It is comparable to neighboring classes of weapons against lightly armoured foes and significantly worse against heavily armoured enemies. I'm loathe to adjust this directly, considering that the aforementioned proliferation of magical swords already impacts this. Instead, I suggest the same presaged house rule to allow the humble, mundane sword even more flexibility to strike faster, more often and to parry more effectively.

Swords & Spears
When wielding these versatile weapons, a Hero may employ the full weapon class or half the weapon class at any time.

This allows swords and spears to strike more quickly (both in terms of number of strikes and strike order) and to serve as excellent defensive weapons (with regards to the rules for parrying), without sacrificing their advantages in reach (due to high weapon class). Thus, spears and swords are good, tactical choices for arms. For blunt striking power, the heavier armaments are still ideal, but if you want an edge in fending off monstrous claws and humanoid weaponry in the dark hallways of the dungeon, or if you value an earlier strike, spears and swords are the weapon of choice.