Tuesday, May 14, 2024

Knowledge Is Power, France Is Bacon

What do you think of the “Know Your Enemy” ability in D&D 5E.2014? If you are familiar with the game, and yet still respond to the question by saying some variation of “the what ability?” I don’t blame you. 

“Know Your Enemy” is the 7th level fighter (battle master) ability, allowing a character to observe or interact with a creature to learn if that creature is better or worse than the fighter across several statistics and other criteria.

Know Your Enemy: Starting at 7th level, if you spend at least 1 minute observing or interacting with another creature outside combat, you can learn certain information about its capabilities compared to your own. The DM tells you if the creature is your equal, superior, or inferior in regard to two of the following characteristics of your choice:

  • Strength score
  • Dexterity score
  • Constitution score
  • Armor Class
  • Current hit points
  • Total class levels (if any)
  • Fighter class levels (if any)

This ability stands out from 5E’s heavy emphasis on combat and ability checks. While the parameters of the information feel overly prescribed, its focus on transparently delivering information without requiring a roll of the dice could almost work in OSR.

I have run thousands of hours of 5E, including a player taking a battlemaster character to 10th level, and this ability came up… maybe once? If even that?

I did hack a version of it for a rogue (thief) character, as a bonus “feat” based on in-game achievements and training. That worked out like this:

Superior Case: If you spend at least 1 minute observing or interacting with another creature outside combat, you can learn certain information about its resources compared to your own. The DM tells you if the creature is your equal, superior, or inferior in regard to two of the following characteristics of your choice: 

  • Dexterity score
  • Intelligence score
  • Charisma score
  • Perception skill modifier
  • Wealth currently on their person
  • Total wealth

I thought this was a neat fiction-forward ability… but it got about as much airtime as Know Your Enemy did. Players in 5E only have so much mental capacity to remember all the things their characters can do, and the rhythm of the game tends to push them toward combat and ability check-relevant class features.


An AI-generated image of 16th century philosophers brawling


What You Don't Know Can Hurt You

In another system, abilities that allow PCs to learn about antagonists before fighting them could be extremely powerful. In a game where knowledge is power – and going into a fight blind can be a death sentence – such abilities would be used all the time. But D&D 5E’s predominant play culture implicitly assumes that PCs can go into almost any fight cold, with no planning or prior information, and expect a winnable, level-appropriate challenge. 

I recently ran an Electric Bastionland one-shot, and while prepping, I noted that the Bastionland book goes to great lengths to emphasize that gathering information about antagonists is one of the most important things the players can be doing. If you start fights without a good sense of what you’re facing, you’ll get pasted.

And it was true! Trespassing near Hog Hall without much sense of who their antagonists could be, my players took some heavy hits from Musty the Mock Badger. But when they fought Abyss, they lured the robotic monstrosity into a trap, and prevailed. Some of the other monsters in the adventure drive this point home even more explicitly; the Ash Wraith (which my players wisely fled from) simply can’t be harmed by normal weapon attacks. The game does not bake in a mechanical solution to the Ash Wraith, as a 5E module would. The players have to figure it out. And the more information they have in advance, the better their chances.

Knowing Is Half the Battle

A different kind of game could put knowledge incentives at the center of its mechanical execution.

Consider a game where the level of danger in each situation is opaque. Sure, anyone can tell that the dragon is more dangerous than the goblin. But if all (or almost all) of the antagonists are humans or human-like creatures, with relatively few obvious indicators of their combat ability, it's less clear. And  moreso if the PCs themselves are relatively weak. A game focused on one-on-one duels between essentially normal mortal warriors would be a good example. 

You enter combat with a finite pool of dice. You can use them all at once, or one at a time, to execute attacks and actions. Combat is measured not in rounds, but in dice. It ends when your dice pool is empty. The antagonist attacks in response to each use of the dice, no matter how many or how few the PC rolls.

If the PC has little or no knowledge of their opponent, they may need to use these dice one at a time, in a series of probing strikes, to figure out what works and what doesn’t. This gives their opponent a lot of opportunities to hit back. But if the PC knows exactly what works on their opponent, they can use all the dice at once, potentially ending the fight before it really begins.

In such a system, it would be difficult for players to miss the value of learning about their opponents before fighting them.

Tuesday, May 7, 2024

Life at the Bottom

The Shaft

The shaft is a smooth-bored hexagonal hole, precisely 111 meters in diameter and 333 meters deep. No one knows how it was created or who made it, but its sides are unblemished and nothing grows upon it, or around its edges on the surface. 

Life at the Top

The shaft is strange and unusual. Occasionally, dwarven miners will travel from far-off lands to study its strange features. On very rare occasions, wizards will arrive, floating down from the sky or stepping sidewise through a tear in reality. They will pace its edges and mutter cryptically, then leave unsatisfied. 

The rest of the time, the shaft is just a big hole in the ground, and to normal folk, a simple curiosity. Children dare each other to step close to the edge. Lovers inscribe secret vows on stones and toss them into the depths. Criminals disposing of evidence heave their victims into its unquestioning darkness.

Life at the Bottom

But people live down there, in an expansive natural cavern at the terminus of the shaft. They are humans, or human-like, or people that were once human generations ago, but have turned into something else, something rich and strange


An AI-generated image of figures looking up from the bottom


Light, Precious Light

Natural light is at a premium down there. Much more than space, or water, or soil. The sun is only an abstract idea to these denizens. The photosynthesizing plants that grow down here are carefully nurtured so that each receives enough light to grow, corresponding with its usefulness to the bottom-dwellers as food, or medicine, or something else. The walls of the shaft allow no purchase for growing things, but around the bottom, scaffolding has been erected from bone, metal, and stone, to ensure that whatever hardy plants can live on the thin, distant light are able to grow in abundance.

Beyond the scaffolding, throughout the cavern, there are mirrors. The mirrors are ancient, impossibly polished, seemingly perfect, perhaps left over from the same forgotten entity or civilization that carved the shaft itself. Placed carefully around the perimeter of the shaft-bottom, they expand the reach of the sun’s light.

Treasures from Above

Things fall down from above all the time. Most of it would be viewed by surface-dwellers as random, stupid, useless. But it is precious to the people at the bottom. Detritus is compost. Metal can be repurposed. Dead animals are like aliens from another world.

Venturing Forth 

The shaft is light and light is life. The first rule of the people at the bottom is to stay near the light, because it offers something that no one else underground has. Even with the scaffolding, even with the mirrors, even with mushrooms and deep-rooted geophytes; there is only so much food down here. The population must be strictly, mercilessly, sometimes cruelly controlled.

Some people don’t like it. Some people think there must be a better way. To go up. Not up the shaft, which is impossible to climb by any known means. Instead out, horizontally, and then up through the tunnels and caves and ancient dungeon hallways that spread out around the shaft.

Or… and this idea is only whispered by the most heterodox of the shaft-bottom-dwellers… go not up, or out, but down, further into the depths. The true heresy.

This is you. You are a level 1 adventurer. You are leaving the shaft bottom forever. Where will you go?

Knowledge Is Power, France Is Bacon

What do you think of the “Know Your Enemy” ability in D&D 5E.2014? If you are familiar with the game, and yet still respond to the quest...