The next lesson is right after the jump!
Lesson 2: Codification can Constrain the Imagination
As discussed over on the Legends and Lore column by Monte Cook, 3rd and 4th editions of D&D codified a ton of rules that had existed in one form or another for a long time in D&D. 4e much more so then 3e, but both helped distill these rules in some form.
For example, 4e bought with it a set of easy to understand conditions, very quantifiable combat roles, and several other categorization that helped the players understand what was going on in the game. These things made a kind of psudo-language that the players and DM could use to speak about things, making communications easy and quick.
No longer would the question “What are you playing?” have to be met with “I’m playing an X. So I basically do Y, but in some instances I do Z when A is happening. And sometimes I do Q if B, R, and J are up and running. I also have...” Instead, that question could be quickly answered with “I’m a Primal Defender.” Everyone understood what a defender does, and because it’s primal you’ll basically understand the ascetics and how it’s going to get done.
All these classifications also helped players and DM’s describe the in game effects of your actions, specifically with the different conditions. You no longer needed to explain that, “this creature can only take actions that take less then 3 seconds to complete.” or “he is lit on fire. Lets find out what that means exactly... (page flipping)” Instead you could simply say, “... and he’s dazed.” or “And he takes ongoing 5 fire damage until he saves.” These things made the vernacular of the game extremely easy once you understood it - everything falls into one category or another, and everyone understands what those things are meant for. This significantly increases the speed of the game in some cases.
The major drawback here is that soon everyone is speaking in this vernacular, and the story elements of the game get lost. Instead of a scene playing out like this:
Player: “I hit him with my Fiery Spell of Fiery Doom”
DM: “Whoa, what does that do?!”
Player: “It says he takes 4d6 damage and catches on fire! Take that ugly!”
DM: “Ouch! What does him catching on fire do?”
Player: “Let me see... ( minutes of page flipping later) … he takes 5 damage each round until...”
Most exchanges play out like this:
Player: “I hit him with my Power: Fiery Doom”
DM: “Whoa, what does that do?!”
Player: “It says he takes 4d6 damage and takes ongoing 5 fire damage (save ends)! Take that ugly!”
DM: “Ouch! Okay, next player...”
In the first exchange, everyone listening has an image of the monster being “lit on fire.” Then that story must be translated into rules after the fact. In this way, the presentation of the rules helps to foster a shared image of what is happening in the scene.
In the second exchange, the same actions took place, a character hit a monster and lit him on fire. However, it happened without ever saying “lit him on fire.” Instead the vernacular of “Ongoing 5 fire damage (save ends)” was used. This works fine from a mechanical standpoint - everyone understands what that means for damage and calculations. However, in 4e terminology Ongoing fire damage can represent multiple effects, such as lighting someone on fire or just simply standing on a very hot surface. So each person is left to their own understanding of what happened there. To be sure, the second exchange happened faster and with less book research, but much of the story element of what was happening was lost, and without a compelling reason (read: mechanical reason) to describe the narrative of those actions, nobody at the table will get a picture of what’s going on. Eventually the game just becomes a bunch of people sitting around throwing dice and quoting jargon at each other.
It’s for this reason, that at my tables I always describe monster actions first, then once I finish with the narrative, I quickly quote the effects of the power as a side note.
In fact, I am so attached to this idea that when I play as a PC (a rare occasion) I actively try to never describe my actions, the effects of my actions or my abilities using any jargon. So when my turn comes around, instead of “I use a melee basic attack on this kobold... it hits so I use Dancing Fire on that minion over there, which deals 3 damage and makes him grant combat advantage.” I will attempt to say something much more flavorful, like “Using my rapier, I strike out at the Kobold immediately in front of me (pointing to figure and rolling)... as the blade finds flesh I run my wand down the length of the freshly bloodied blade, the friction acting as a component for the quick flame spell I weave around the feet of the Kobold’s underling that looked about ready to pounce...” Then when the DM goes, “OK...” I say quickly “This Kobold takes 9 damage from the sword and that one takes 3 damage and grants combat advantage from the Dancing Fire spell.”
Of the two options, I would rather spend an evening listening to the second option. But more often then not, I get an evening of the first.
What to take away from this lesson:
So codification has both it’s good points and it’s bad points. On the one hand, it speeds play and removes the need for most at-table research. On the other hand, it can strip out a whole lot of the built in imaginative, storytelling elements of the game. So a balance needs to be reached for the next iteration so we get the best of both worlds.
What about for D&D Next?
My proposal here is to just bring the description of each spell/power down into the spell/powers effect line. This was beginning to happen in the Essentials line of products, but I still think they could go even further. For example: Hit: The target takes 4d6 fire damage and is lit on fire (taking an ongoing 5 fire damage) until it is put out with a saving throw.
What do you think about game term codification? Do you love it, or do you think it robs the game of it’s narrative?
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