AD&D: Embrace the Imbalance

AD&D is imbalanced.  There, I said it.  The classes are imbalanced.  The races are imbalanced.  Many of the monsters feel imbalanced.  Everything about the game reeks of imbalance.

But is imbalance necessarily a bad thing?  I don’t think so.

Picture by Kevin Thai

My players are just learning the basic combat rules.  We’re only 2 full sessions in, due to crazy schedules, so we’re still working it out.  I’m still working it out.  So as we engaged our first serious combat opportunity, I thought, let’s keep the guard rails on:

4 PCs (a fighter, an assassin, an illusionist-thief, and a cleric)
1 allied PC (Elmo, if you’re familiar with The Village of Hommlet)
3 opposing NPCs (2 bandits and one fenced-in wild horse)

Everything about the encounter reeks of caution:

  • One less NPC than the PCs
  • The wild horse was fenced-in, just in case the 2 bandits were too much

But there was more than meets the eye:

  • The Monster Manual recommends bandits be in group of…wait for it…20-200!
  • Wild horses appear in packs of 5-30

So, yeah, I was pulling my punches.  But why?  I wanted to allow the players to learn the system without their characters getting slaughtered.  Is that so bad to do?  The game feels so imbalanced–weighted against low-level PCs–I don’t want them to get frustrated with the system.  In the end, this is the question I found myself facing:

Can I trust the numbers in the books—or do I need to flub them?

Well, I learned from the experience big-time.  Here’s how:

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The Mad Cleric Needs Your Help!

This blog is for you.  I write and podcast week-in and week-out to benefit your gaming and, thereby, your life.  So I want to know how I can help you better.  Below I’ve got a brief ten-question survey for you to fill out.  The first to fill it out and chime in on the comments below will get precedence in online AD&D games later in the year!  So please, give me a few minutes of your time, so that I can be even more helpful to your gaming and your life.

Thanks!

Jason, The Mad Cleric

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Do Not Read This Blog!

Seriously, don’t do it!

Credit: Richard

Well, OK, you can read this particular post.  But I’m getting at a much larger issue, which is: for whic readers is MadCleric.com, this blog, intended?

And my answer begins with a story…

Last Sunday, I got the kind of text I love to receive.  An old friend with whom I never gamed asking the question, “What do I need to get so me and my friends can learn D&D?”  And instantly, I was faced with a conundrum:

Do I direct him to AD&D 1e or to the shiny new 5th edition?

And with a weight of guilt upon my shoulders, I texted back, “You should definitely get the 5th edition Starter Set.”  And I hung my head in defeat.  How could this be?!  I’m the Mad Cleric!  The defender and proponent of AD&D 1e against detractors everywhere!  I’m the guy that’s bringing it back!

And then I had a realization: my journey is not for this particular friend.  He’s a first time tabletop roleplayer.  His friends are in the same category.  And what do they need?  A good, solid, clear, and fun high fantasy roleplaying game.  And, dammit, that’s fifth edition Dungeons & Dragons.  There’s no buts about it.  In the end, he’s chasing a different dragon than I am.

The dragon I’m chasing is a much more elusive dragon.  A dragon from the darkest hidden dungeons of the late seventies and early eighties.  I’m seeking the dragon of nostalgia.  I’m seeking to recreate the uncreatable.  I’m wanting to peer into the past and experience what they experienced.  It’s not that my friend couldn’t handle AD&D 1e.  But it’s not the game (or dragon) that he’s looking for.  Which leads to a question:

Who’s looking for the same dragon that I am?

Here’s who’s looking for the same dragon: the people that should be reading this blog twice a week.  Here they are!

  1. Gamers who haven’t been playing and want to experience something of yesteryear
  2. Gamers who have played the spectrum of modern RPGs, but have never gone back to the beginning
  3. D&D players who’ve never dabbled with first edition
  4. People who are simply interested in AD&D 1e or my journey in it
  5. Of course, experienced AD&D DMs/players who can help direct me on this journey

So if you’re one of these five people, please continue reading this blog.  And pass it on to your friends.  I’d love to see a community of gamers gathering around this idea of going back and experiencing what AD&D 1e offered so gloriously to the gamers of the past.

So please, dear friends, keep passing on your gaming questions, even if they lead to other games and other systems.  And of course, keep on chasing that dragon…whatever your dragon may be.

What’s your gaming dragon right now?  Are you digging into AD&D 1e with me?  Or do you have something else right now that’s got your goat?  Let me know in the comments or on Twitter!

Who is the Mad Cleric?

Who is the Mad Cleric?  Good question.

I am a learner.

I am addicted to information.  And that addiction is beneficial when it comes to gaming, for there are more games than could ever be learned.  As soon as I get the grasp of one game, I’ve got another book on my bedside table to consume.  I know I’m not the only learner out there!

I want to learn with you.

I am a connector.  I connect with people.  I connect people with others.  And I connect the dots with people.  As a person energized by relationships, I learn best in community with others.  Thus, when it comes to games, I don’t want to learn them in isolation.  I want you to learn as I learn.

I am a communicator.

As a collector of information, I have learned to process, repackage, and redistribute that information.  And this goes hand-in-hand with my desire for you to learn.  I don’t aim to be the end-all, be-all expert.  No, I want to pass along what I’m learning, so that you can learn too!

I enjoy the game.

It’s not one specific game–it’s the process of gaming itself.  Thus, I am perpetually open to a new possibility.  Always looking for that new game, that new experience, that new process of learning.  As a result, I find it easy to see the good in most games.  Because in the end, I love the game.

I am a mad cleric.

I’m not mad, as in angry.  I’m just kind of strange–mad like a hatter.  How so?  I’m a husband and father of two, who still hangs out at the comic shop.  I’m a pastor (a cleric, if you like), who loves the honesty and openness of the gaming community.  I love to break stereotypes, wherever able.  You might even call me mad.

I hope this strikes a chord with you, O gamer who has stumbled upon my site.  I’d like you to join me on a quest to learn a new game.  Or perhaps a new way of gaming.  After all, that’s what I’m all about: learning the game together.

As We Shape Stories, the Stories Shape Us.

Welcome to Experience Points, my weekly response to one of your questions about anything!  Life, relationships, faith, or gaming…really anything is game!  If you’d like to send in a question, feel free to email me.  Here’s this week’s question:

Why in the world are you, a Pastor, playing tabletop games?

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For the record, I know the person who sent in this question and he/she means it in the absolute nicest way!  It is odd to stumble upon a cleric of any tradition in your FLGS, let alone one born and raised in the Bible belt and now serving in a conservative, Protestant institution.  It raises the question: what’s your angle, preacher-man?

Stating the obvious: tabletop gaming is fun!

I was born in 1983, two years before the US release of the Nintendo Entertainment System.  When my dad brought one home when I was four years old, things changed in our home!  I became a console gamer.  Really, quite frankly I was a Nintendo gamer…and still am.  Except for the Gamecube and the Wii U, all the systems are currently hooked up to my gaming TV.  But early on, I developed a gaming sensibility that continued.

My first brush with tabletop gaming was in junior high with the WEG Star Wars RPG.  A friend lent me the book and after school I and my brothers sat down to try it out.  When one brother’s PC decapitated the other’s with a lightsaber in the first five minutes, my mom made us take the book back.  And then tabletop games disappeared from my life.

…until 2011, that is.  I was actually a month away from moving to Louisiana, when the then-NBC sitcom Community had an episode about Dungeons & Dragons.  I was immediately intrigued.  I actually downloaded the basic 4th Edition rules from the WotC site, but moving soon took precedence and it slipped between the cracks.  But only for a few months.

After moving to Louisiana and taking a new position at a small suburban church, I became acquainted with a college student who was doing some volunteering for us.  As we got to know each other, we learned that we had a shared love of many things: the Beatles, comic books, and video games.  But then he mentioned Dungeons & Dragons

I knew all the horror stories from the eighties.  I knew the sermon illustrations.  I knew the Scriptures against witchcraft and the like.  But when he invited me to join his gaming group, I took the Players Handbook home, read it in a week, and joined up.  And guess what?  It was fun.  It was a heckuva lot of fun.  As an extrovert who loves games and epic stories, I realized this could become a really great outlet for creativity, relaxation, and good old-fashioned fun.

The less-than obvious: tabletop gaming is good.

You don’t hear too many people talking about things being objectively “good” these days.  But here’s what I found to be good about tabletop gaming.

First (which I’ve talked about at length elsewhere), there’s something sacred about tabletops.  How many life-changing moments happen at tables?  How many important conversations happen there?  How many relationships are strengthened or challenged there?  How many children are shaped slowly and daily by what happens there?  In the Christian faith, one of our most important practices happens on a tabletop!  Any time I find myself at a table with other people, I know that there is great potential for good.  There is opportunity for relationships—for encouragement—for mutual care—for self-expression—for community.  And these things are all objectively good.

Communities have much more potential for good than the individual does.  That’s not to say individuals can’t accomplish good things.  But unified communities bring about exponential change.  Unified homes, seeking good things, are objectively good.  Unified workplaces, seeking good things, are objectively good.  Unified friends, seeking good things, are objectively good.  And unified gaming groups, seeking good things, are objectively good.

Even if that means something seemingly trivial like “telling good stories.”  Telling good stories enriches lives and homes.  Humanity itself came of age while telling stories around meals.  Before we ever wrote them down, we recited them and participated in them.  As communities shaped the stories, the stories shaped us.  It’s a sacred practice, happening at a sacred place.  And I believe this to be good.

The draw for a Pastor

As a Pastor, I am a storyteller and a story-shaper.  I tell stories that I believe will shape and transform the lives of the hearers.  The stories that I tell occupationally are stories of faith, rooted in the Judeo-Christian tradition.  I believe them to be true.  But that does not mean that other stories cannot also be life-changing and redemptive.

As such, tabletop gaming (more specifically tabletop RPGs) is more than a simple interest to me.  I believe it to be a means of transformation.  Friendships happen there.  Ideas are challenged and shaped in the process.  People are transformed through these stories.  As we shape them, they shape us.  And I believe that to be good.

How have the stories at your tabletop shaped you?  How has it strengthened and catalyzed your friendships and your worldview?  Sound off in the comments!

(Photo credit: Mary)