AD&D: When to Just Say No

It's been a while since I've posted anything here. In truth, my AD&D campaign has been going well and work has otherwise kept me busy. We've finished off the first two levels of G3: The Halls of the Fire Giant King and now the players wanted to give their characters a much-deserved break to train henchmen, write scrolls, do some spell research, etc. So the party carted all their ill-gotten gains in one form or another from their safe base some distance from the Halls to their base in Quasqueton on the other side of the mountains.

We've debated for many sessions about how the players are supposed to actually get all that treasure home. We struck upon a solution that I think has merit and might have precedent in the earlier games in Lake Geneva. Our resident wizard has the teleport spell - a tricky thing when cast upon oneself as there is always a risk of transporting too high or too low. This risk is minimized by teleporting to a known location. The party has a djinni servant who can make soft goods (like sacks) by the armload each day. So, as the party gets its treasures, they pack them into large sacks and get them ready for transport. The teleport spell has a weight limit and a range of touch, so I deemed that it could be used on treasures so long as the container can be touched. The wizard prepares 3 teleport spells (her max) and, when the party comes back with a large haul, she spends some time teleporting these treasures to their "vault" room in Quasqueton. In this instance I said "yes" to the solution of treasure transport.

Our resident druid, always looking for a way to weaponize spells, has been experimenting with his high-level spells (he can cast spells of any level now) and keeps trying to make the utility spells more offensive. I tried explaining to him that not every spell needs to cause damage - and druids are not wizards. He disagrees. He pushes the boundaries on what he thinks the spells should be able to do, and I have to pull back on the reins to keep the druid from dominating the campaign or breaking it altogether. He has the "win at all costs" mentality, so when something doesn't work as he wants it to, he stops casting the spell and thinks it's useless. We've also changed a few druid spells based on his analysis of level and damage output or usefulness in combat situations. For example, we changed call lightning to allow him to call a bolt each ROUND instead of each TURN, but he must maintain concentration and do nothing else while the spell lasts (duration changed to 1 round/level). We also changed produce fire from causing 1d4 points of damage for 1 round, to lasting for 1 round/level. It is, after all, a 4th level spell and should be more than a 1 minute deterrent to pursuers. The problem is that he keeps trying to set creatures aflame with the spell. At what point does this happen? What are the results of being set on fire? The rules say nothing. I keep coming up with ways to say no to this, but eventually I cave in and allow it.

Our resident ranger, now a Ranger Lord, has reached the level of acquiring followers. We rolled and he got the max number (24), unfortunately locking him into only getting humans and demi-human followers (he was so hoping for a pegasus mount). The rules imply that he gets the followers when he builds a fortress. But the party is living together in Quasqueton - their own jointly-owned fortress. Rumors of their adventures have spread far and wide in the area of Selenica, so I had the followers begin to turn up. Since they all have levels determined ahead of time (and most were higher than 1st level), I assumed that these followers could gain experience as a form of henchman. They are NOT restricted as henchmen in the number he can have at any time based on Charisma, and he already has a henchman (a PC demoted to henchman status when the player could no longer participate). So he now has an army of 25 henchmen at his disposal. What does he want to do with them? Nothing. He dislikes the idea of followers that just show up and become a monetary drain for him to house, feed, and train. He has accepted the ones that have already showed up - we decided to nix the others for now until he retires and establishes a place to settle down permanently. He might change his mind later, who knows. He also does not want to support them monetarily. He wanted them to "get jobs" in town and keep their eyes and ears open for "trouble" in the region, and then wants them to "handle it." I tried telling him that these are HIS followers and he has to support them or they will leave. He doesn't understand what use they are since the party wants to keep the existence of Quasqueton a guarded secret, despite inviting guards from Fort Hobart to use the outer works as a forward base for their scouts and troops against the orcs in the region. I had to say "no" to the ranger's solution of what to do with the followers. He was not pleased, and is still confused as to why followers are even in the game. I keep trying to explain that D&D grew out of wargaming - armies and wars. Men and followers were a measurement of the strength of one's forces: the more you had, the stronger your army. The higher the quality, the better your chances of success. Rangers had high-quality (higher-level) followers, and thus were great skirmishers in the woodlands where they could fight lesser-quality, more numerous foes better.

I like to run my games as close to the book as possible. However, we've discovered some flaws in the game that have been solved in later editions, or completely omitted in later versions of the game because they don't fit the style of play or the rules of a non-wargaming campaign. I like to use the rules as the basis for all my decisions to prevent my decisions from becoming arbitrary. I allow the players to try just about anything but I also counsel them that the game has predetermined assumptions of how things are supposed to work and bypassing them has effects on other aspects of the game. For example, if a magic-user is rolled without using the rules in the DMG on beginning spellbooks, then they all become carbon-copy magic missile blasters. We modified the spells cast/day based on Intelligence to allow 1st-level magic-users more than 1 spell cast per day. But now that the magic-user has reached Wizard level, the number of spells she can cast is becoming somewhat overwhelming in the encounters. She also found a 1st-level pearl of power, so she memorizes only magic missiles for her 1st level spells, and all slow spells for third level. In fact, I find that magic-users tend to select only those spells that are useful in all situations. My former DM used to keep this to a minimum by stating that no spell may be prepared more than once per day - this gave more value to spell scrolls that had spells the character's already possessed, and made wands more useful as well. I personally found this restricting, especially for clerics who could memorize only one cure light wounds spell for a party of 7-9 characters! It's also not in the rules, as can be seen by anyone who has ever run an AD&D module. Followers are a part of AD&D in that there is an endgame, a point at which the characters have accomplished enough and seek to retire. Their followers then serve to protect their lord and his holdings, when he is present or when he is away. Since none of my players want to follow the usual paradigm, they are becoming frustrated dealing with these rules.

My final word is to touch on when the characters just say "no" to the next adventure. For example, the party I have has spent several long years in real life battling the giants in the G-series of modules. They assume that this is the last adventure in the series (not realizing that the D-series is next, culminating in Q1). They assume that beating back the dark elves is enough to accomplish their goals. This is OK. I'm not going to push them into participating in an adventure that they clearly do not want to enter. They don't like the idea of facing the dark elves on their "home turf" or being so far from an escape route back to the surface. I've already placed some hooks to entice them into the Underdark and the druid flat out stated that he had no interest in going underground for any extended period of time. They'd rather spend hours of time beating up on orcs and goblinoids in their home region, despite the fact that I told them that they would likely never make another level! However, it is their right to say no to the adventure if they don't want to pursue an obviously deadly path into the unknown. They've achieved levels higher than any other characters we've played in a campaign that has been ongoing for nearly 20 years now. They have a vested interested in keeping these characters alive and want to see the endgame, whatever that may be. My problem now is how to challenge the players if they are unwilling to take risks!

AD&D 2nd Edition: Surprise Rules Comparison

In order to understand how the game has changed from its original concept, one has to research the rules of later systems and the changes made. It sometimes reveals interesting things about the original version that may or may not be obvious when seen only through the rules as they are initially interpreted without a comparison. I'll use the 2nd Edition rules (originally printed in 1989) to show how the rules evolved from confusion towards clarity.

I expected to find the surprise rules in the combat chapter of the Player's Handbook, but instead found them in Chapter 11: Encounters, two chapters AFTER the combat rules. There are also a few paragraphs and a chart in the Dungeon Master's Guide. The important thing to remember through all this is that the round structure changed from 1st to 2nd Edition. In AD&D 1E, the one minute round was broken down into 10 segments of 6 seconds each. Casting times, speed factors, and segment movement were all tied to this structure in some way. In AD&D 2E, there is no breakdown of the round at all. A melee round is still 1 minute long, but it is now the smallest unit of time in the game. The next important thing to know is that the die used for surprise changed from a d6 (which were easier to locate for AD&D 1E players) to a d10 (which, by the time 2E came along, polyhedral dice could be found virtually anywhere). I have learned that Gygax also used a d10 for Initiative in his own campaigns, but that has no bearing on this discussion (it's simply interesting to note that the game was evolving even after the AD&D rules were developed).

OK, so the rules begin on page 111 in my copy of the PHB. Not all printings have the same page structure so it may be different in your book. Mine is a 1st printing, so if your page structure differs, or the rules were amended at some point with corrections, then you can disregard any statements that may differ from your rulebook.

The very first line seems to indicate exactly what I've been stressing in my other surprise articles: surprise is usually unilateral. In this version, the chance is 3 in 10 (or 30%) which is also very close to the 33-1/3% of rolling a 2 in 6 (probably intentionally done). So far the rules for both editions support each other. It then gives examples as to how surprise can or cannot be avoided. Again, it stresses that it's the DM's call as to whether surprise conditions exist, and it depends entirely on the situation. Curiously, it says that the DM can have the group check or require individual checks. If no one is paying particular attention to something, saying they are alert for danger, or are otherwise  distracted, then they can roll as a group. But say that 2 characters are standing watch at night while the others are asleep, then only those 2 watchmen roll for surprise, and in this case it would be each individual (thus the more watchmen that are alert, the less chance that the entire party is taken by surprise).

Now the surprise roll can be modified by Dexterity (reaction adjustment), race (elves and halflings), class (rangers and thieves), cleverness, and situation. The modifiers are given in the DMG, p. 102 (mine is a 10th printing to replace a badly damage 1st printing). Here it explains that surprise may be possible for BOTH sides. Light, excessive noise, and other types of prior warning can negate the need for a surprise roll, and surprise is not usually possible when no form of concealment is present (such as two ships at sea), but darkness, storms, fog, and the like can act as concealment.

It is important to note that the modifiers listed in the DMG apply to the DIE ROLL, not the chance to surprise. Thus, if a monster is silent (-2) and invisible (-2), the party's die roll is reduced by 4. If they rolled a 6 on a d10 they would be surprised since 6 - 4 = 2 (normal surprise chance is 3 in 10, remember?). If the party comes near a patrol of 12 troglodytes (+1 per 10 in group) who are camouflaged (-3) in a dimly lit tunnel (-1), the DM is within reason to give the party a bonus for the distinctive stench of the trogs (+2) and an additional +2 because a small band of fleeing, wounded orcs encountered earlier warned the party of the presence of trogs ahead. Yes, this can become very convoluted! However, the 3 in 10 chance remains the same regardless, and the die roll is modified by (+1 - 3 - 1 + 2 + 2 =) +1. So long as the party rolls a 3 or above they will not be surprised. Now, if the same party had never encountered the wounded orcs, and the trogs had not previously battled the orcs and released their stench, then they would have a modifier of -3 to their surprise roll, thus doubling the chance of being surprised! [NOTE: I'm using stats for monsters from the Monstrous Compendium binder pages printed in 1989. Those using the 2E Monstrous Manual might see that the chameleon power of trogs actually grants a stated -4 to their opponents' surprise rolls.]

The decision to roll group vs. individual surprise is the DM's call. I would just adjust the group roll for each individual's modifiers. Say that the group surprise roll was a 4 with no other modifiers to the roll. A character with a 5 Dexterity (-1 Reaction Adj.) would be surprised, while a character with an average Dexterity or more would not be surprised. Elves, when alone or well in advance of a party and not in metal armor,  impose a penalty of -4 to their opponent's surprise rolls (or -2 if they have to open a door or screen to attack). This is different than 1E where elves surprise 66-2/3% (4 in 6) or standard chances (33-1/3% or 2 in 6) when opening a door. Granted, 70% and 66.6666% is close, but 50% chance is much more than 33.3333%. Elves also tend to have better Dex scores, so they would be less likely to be surprised by others. Halflings have the same modifiers as Elves. Half-elves do not share this ability in either edition of the game. Rangers in 2E no longer have surprise modifiers built into the class. However, they do gain access to Hide in Shadows and Move Silently (as do Thieves), so they benefit from the modifiers to the roll given in the DMG for being silent (-2) or invisible (-2). However, unlike elves and halflings, they cannot do both at the same time. A halfling thief probably DOESN'T gain the benefit of both his racial sneakiness AND his Move Silently check as these are both similarly explained in the rules. Therefore a halfling thief CANNOT surprise opponents 9 in 10, but CAN surprise 7 in 10! A human thief using his Move Silently successfully can only surprise 5 in 10 by comparison (which is equal to the 3 in 6 chance for a 1E human thief). And, of course, surprise is a requirement for a backstab attack to get the multiplier to damage and bonus to hit.

The other modifiers listed in the DMG seem to be more situational and deal with party size, lighting conditions, morale, concealing weather conditions, and anticipation of attack. These are all common sense rules. However, many creatures in the 1E AD&D Monster Manual had increased chances for surprise. Let's see about 2E monsters. Troglodytes are camouflage attackers, so one would think a modifier would be nailed down on these creatures, but the Monstrous Compendium only states that they have camouflage ability, and in the DMG camouflage is given a range of -1 to -3 (which oddly enough can equal or EXCEED being invisible, which is only -2). Bugbears, another traditionally stealthy monster, are specifically listed as surprising with a -3 penalty to their opponent's surprise roll (which is better than simply silent movement at -2). This is an improvement over 1E AD&D. Finally, the accursed Drow are STILL listed as surprising 75% of the time (can't be rolled on a d10 guys) and also move silently (which is apparently already factored into their elven cloak and boots). It states that they are only themselves surprised 1 in 10 (to which standard modifiers are likely to be added). Unfortunately, instead of converting from 1E AD&D percentages to d10 increments, the authors kept the weird, non-standard surprise chance of the dark elves. But this doesn't matter much (as will be seen) and each +/-1 of modifiers adjust the chance by 10% so it's just a math exercise.

There is a distinction drawn between surprise and an ambush in the last paragraph of PHB, p. 111. Here it states that an ambush is prepared by one group to make an unexpected attack on another group but ONLY if the DM decides that the other group CANNOT detect the ambush. A properly set ambush allows the use of spells and attacks before the other side reacts. If the ambush succeeds, the ambushing group gets its initial attack AND the other group must roll for surprise as well in the following round, so an ambushing group may gain TWO rounds of attacks before the other group can reply. This sounds suspiciously like SURPRISE and COMPLETE SURPRISE from Original D&D and AD&D 1E to me...

Now, what are the effects of surprise in 2E? We all know the confusing rules in 1E may result in one or more segments of surprise actions for the surprising group. However, there are no segments in 2E. Instead, all surprised opponents suffer the same penalty -- one round of attacks by melee, missile, or magical items only (no spells can be cast during a surprise round!). This means that all the fiddly surprise rules are basically out the window in 2E! You don't have to worry about movement rates in segments, casting times for spells, or anything else. If you can do it in a round, then you can do it in a surprise round, with the only exception being that spells cannot be cast. Although one would see this as being very unfair for magic-users, they can still use magic items (if available) and prevents instant-cast  magic missiles and charm person spells from overtaking the party. It also allows fighters their multiple attacks with melee weapons, and any class to make use of standard rates of fire for missile weapons. Surprise also means that the surprised characters lose their Dex bonus to AC (and the term "flat-footed" here would be used later in 3rd edition for any character before they act in the 1st round of a combat). Mutual surprise conditions simply mean that one round is wasted for both sides -- since there isn't a segment comparison, all those rules from 1E are essentially unnecessary.

So 2E surprise tried to become normalized and streamlined for all monsters and characters (except, of course, those drow troublemakers). The 3 in 10 chance equates to the 1E chance for normal surprise, and complete surprise in Original D&D (2 segments) is now reserved only for ambush situations (which are DM arbitrated and not left to random roll). Removing spells from the surprise equation and making surprise last a full round eliminates all the headaches of segment calculations. Of course, there is still complexity involved in the amount of modifiers that have to be remembered for each circumstance, but as long as the DM and players have a grasp on their characters' abilities it shouldn't be too hard to figure out. It's also interesting to note the slow transition of the surprise roll into the Perception check of 3rd and later editions.

AD&D: No-Save Magic

As a player, I prefer the lower levels of play. There is an uncertainty to the way the system works. Sure, you can do many things to try and ensure victory, but in a game that uses random number generators to resolve outcomes it really is more of a gamble when the dice are rolled. There are few, if any, certainties in the game. Oh sure, some spells have no saving throws (magic missile, for example), but there are limits on how many spells can be cast at the lower levels.

The premise of high-level magic (including magic items) is that your castings are more of a certainty. Fewer and fewer spells have a saving throw and the magic items become brutally efficient in their usage. As a Dungeon Master, I hate it when the players use magic exclusively without a saving throw to achieve a guaranteed result. To me it seems like cheating. I also refrain from using magic with no saving throws as the players seem to balk and complain when it is perpetrated on them. Last night's session of AD&D was no exception.

I had rolled a wandering monster encounter 2 weeks ago on the 2nd level of the Halls of the Fire Giant King as the party was transporting giant adamantite morningstars to a safe location for later retrieval. It was late and we stopped here on a cliffhanger - the players knew something was about to occur but had no idea what that was. I happened to roll up an encounter with a drow fighter/magic-user of 7th/7th level and his were-rat accomplices (6 to be exact). We packed it in for the night and waited until last night to play it out.

All Saturday afternoon I crafted the encounter. Since the drow surprises 75% of the time and the were-rats surprise 4 in 6, it was almost certainly going to be a surprise encounter. Half the party was hefting the huge morningstars, while the weaker members were waiting in the ettins' guard room along with all the gold they had ransacked from the giants in this section of the dungeon. Without looking at my notes from the previous session, I sat down to craft the random encounter.

In order to remain fair and neutral, I used other drow magic-users in the module and from module D1 as a basis for spell selection. Also, we use a house rule that gives bonus spells to magic-users based on high Intelligence in much the same manner as clerics get from high Wisdom. Therefore, since I rolled a 17 Intelligence for the drow F/MU, he was getting 2 bonus first level, 2 bonus second level, and 1 bonus third level spell. He already had 4 first, 3 second, 2 third and 1 fourth level spell. High-level Drow also gain access to darkness, faerie fire, dancing lights, levitate, know alignment, and detect magic. I ended up giving this drow 3 magic missile spells and a slow spell, the few low-level spells without a saving throw. The drow F/MU I was basing this one on also had a rope of entanglement. I figured what the heck, and wrote it in. Then I read the item in order to become more familiar with it. Here is where I drew the line and quickly removed it from the write-up.

You see, the rope of entanglement belongs to a category of magic items that I refer to as "ultra" items. It isn't cursed; quite the opposite! It is one of those ultra-powerful items that completely negates the party with a simple command word. There is no required to-hit roll against the target(s) and there is no saving throw against the effect. There are a number of items in the DMG that function this way - most are almost never found or used by player characters.

The party currently consists of the main characters (Druid 12th, Magic-user 11th, Ranger 10th), their henchmen (Fighter 8th, Fighter 8th, Cleric 9th, and Fighter 6th), and followers (two Druid 3rd). That's nine characters of small to medium size. The rope of entanglement can entrap up to 8 man-sized creatures with a single command from a distance of 20', with no hit roll or saving throw required. That means I could have immobilized the entire party with no hope for them to escape! That's no fun and no fair! And I'm certain that the party would have complained loudly if I simply stated that they were all now prisoners of the drow, who could enslave or slay them at his leisure.

So the rope was removed from the encounter. My fear was that it would either cause the players to hate the game, or worse, that it would fall into their possession! They already select spells based on 100% chance of success (i.e. no saving throw or impossible to avoid), and this item would have become unbalancing.

Still, I left the spell selection for the drow as it was and we began the session. First off I webbed the fighters and the djinni servant into the crypt and sent half the were-rats after the weaker party members. The fighters were surprised for 2 segments thanks to the ranger's ability, but the others were surprised for 4 segments! It didn't take long for the ranger to light a torch and bring it to bear on the webbed entrance, but by that time the drow (who I deemed had already cast strength on himself that day) was casting protection from good on himself, increasing his AC from -3 to -5 against attacks from good-aligned creatures. The players were already suspicious when I had them roll percentile dice for surprise...

The were-rats attacked the weaker members immediately, gaining 2 segments worth of attacks once they had moved into position on the dwarf and halfling fighter henchmen left to guard the others. The party is so well-armored by now that I barely scratched them. The three were-rats could not withstand the onslaught of the two henchmen's enchanted blades or the magic-user's magic missiles and fell within 2 rounds of combat. Meanwhile, the webs were burnt away in 1 round and the were-rats waiting in ambush outside were revealed in the flickering torchlight of the level. The drow was still slinking in the shadows waiting for a shot with his poisoned hand crossbow bolts.

Everything went south from there. The three other were-rats were being trounced by the fighters. The drow got a shot off on the druid, but he made his saving throw (even at -4!). The druid immediately transformed into a mountain lion as the drow cast his monster summoning I spell to call forth 5 manes to attack the party (geez, 1 HD sub-demons against 8th and 10th level fighter-types?). The ranger started destroying the were-rats while the fighter took on the manes. The druid leaped over the small manes and was charging the drow when he got plugged by a volley of magic missiles (which barely dented his 70+ hit points). The rest of the party, fearing for the safety of the others came around the bend in the corridor to see the mountain lion leaping for someone and several demonic creatures shambling forth to attack their fighter friend. The dwarf fighter charged the nearest manes and that's when the combat went wacky. The drow, in combat with the mountain lion, dropped a darkness globe on the middle of the corridor intersection and started to flee slowly. The ranger had dimension-doored behind the drow, but was unaware of the darkness coming into play when he did so (it's an innate ability he wished for long ago). He was not only disoriented from the spell, but also blind in the darkness. The party magic-user and her halfling fighter henchmen had approached the battle scene and were also caught in the darkness along with the demons and the dwarf fighter.

The drow then levitated up and out of the darkness to escape along the ceiling. The others soon wandered out of the darkness and the ranger removed a pebble from a neck-pouch with a continual light spell cast upon it. The darkness was negated and regular lighting resumed in the corridor. As the drow continued to escape 30' up, the party attempted some ranged attacks. The drow faced off in a wizard-duel with the party magic-user; shield spells, magic missiles, hold monster spells, and finally a slow spell cast upon the party. Nothing seemed to affect either of them - they both are magic resistant! So the drow stopped wasting spells and sought to flee up the stairs to the north where the druid had run to await the drow, thinking that his levitate spell had to end at some point. When he saw the drow was escaping, the druid turned back to his half-elven form.

We ended just as the druid cast his heat metal spell on the drow's weapons and armor. Now, the spell affects the metal, not the drow, so magic resistance does not come into play. The armor is not truly magical, so it gets no saving throw despite being considered +4 chain mail; it also specifically states in the monster description that the armor is an iron-adamantite alloy. So once again, the party will cook another drow in its own armor, with no hope of escape or avoidance. I'm OK with this; but if the tables were turned, I think the party would all be dressed in leather armor and using wooden weapons to avoid ever having to deal with this situation! I have a means of negating the spell (with the sleet version of ice storm), but I don't think I can cast in burning armor while levitating...

AD&D 1st Edition Surprise Revisited

The guidelines and examples for Surprise in the DUNGEON MASTERS GUIDE are very basic. They only really explain in detail the results when two sides with typical surprise chances meet. They really don't stress enough the facts of how surprise might be run during actual game play when players are taking precautions (like having an advance scout, not using light, moving silently due to spell or ability, etc.) to avoid being detected. In fact, I'm not really sure how Moving Silently is supposed to be treated, since in most circumstances, it would be used by an assassin or thief to sneak up on a victim and surprise them. So then, is the thief penalized by having to make two rolls in order to surprise? Is the Move Silently check merely to see if they gain an extra 1 in 6 chance to surprise? Why then would an elf or halfling gain a 4 in 6 chance to surprise simply by moving silently? Should the Move Silently check be used in place of the surprise roll? None of these questions are answered anywhere. If the surprise roll is basically meant as a detection roll, then shouldn't a thief of 1st level have a better chance than a fighter or cleric of the same level in gaining surprise?

Normal chances to surprise are 2 in 6. That roughly translates to 33-1/3% chance of surprising an opponent. A look at the Thief Function Table in the PLAYERS HANDBOOK reveals that Move Silently is below 33% until they reach 4th level. So Moving Silently in and of itself does not make sense as a "replacement" for surprise chance. So what benefit does it provide? A lowly human thief in leather armor should probably have the same chance as an elf or halfling in non-metallic armor for surprising an opponent. After all, their very class functions include this stealth. But the rules as written do not support this. Additionally, it appears on the chart that Moving Silently for an elven thief is only 5% better than a human, and for a halfling thief is 10% better. So, the percentage does not really equate to surprise at all, but rather an increased chance of surprise.

In fact, looking at the PLAYERS HANDBOOK description of the Move Silently ability, it even states that:

"Moving Silently can be attempted each time the thief moves. It can be used to approach an area where some creature is expected, thus increasing chances for surprise (q.v.), or to approach to back stab, or simply done to pass some guard or watchman. Failure (a dice score in excess of the adjusted base chance) means that movement was not silent (see SURPRISE). Success means movement was silent."

The DMG defines silent and invisible movement as an increase to 4 in 6 chances of surprise. Now, looking at some of the monsters in the MONSTER MANUAL (again, a book designed at the end of the Original D&D era), one can see that most ambush predators only have a 3 in 6 chance of surprise, and most invisible opponents have a 4 in 6 or 5 in 6 chance of surprise. Does this mean that elves and halflings are unseen while moving? Does this mean that the lowly human thief has only a 3 in 6 chance to surprise? The Hide in Shadows ability strictly disallows the use of this ability while moving, so one can never Move Silently while Hiding in Shadows. So why do the elves and halflings who aren't even thieves get the 4 in 6 chance to surprise? Again, this harkens back to the days of Original D&D when elves were the masters of camouflage in the forest, able to move without sound and be considered invisible when in foliage. Halflings also had a similar ability in natural surroundings, mainly due to their size and natural stealth. So how does this translate to AD&D? Well, Gygax obviously allowed this traditionally outdoor ability to be used indoors, thus increasing chances for surprise for elves and halflings. But there is a caveat here. The ability first off does not apply to half-elves, only full-blooded elves. It stipulates that the elf or halfling must be alone and not in metal armor (or well in advance (90'+) of a party not consisting entirely of elves and/or halflings) in order to gain the 4 in 6 chance for surprise. If a door has to be opened to proceed, the chance drops to normal 2 in 6. Again, what if the character is an elven or halfling thief? Should this further increase their chance of surprise to 5 in 6? After all, the elf or halfling is being granted this extra ability due to moving silently. The rules are silent on this...

It is my belief that normal Move Silently successes merely increase the chance to surprise to the same as an ambush predator that also moves silently (like some monsters, especially the bugbear, whose 3 in 6 chance to surprise is directly stated as being due to silent movement). Elves and halflings somehow are able to move so stealthily that they have increased chances of surprise as if they were silent and invisible (4 in 6). Thus, any elf not wearing metal armor, is essentially better at sneaking around than a non-elven thief when it comes to surprising in combat situations only. It does not, however, mean that an elf can simply sneak past a guard or tip-toe near a dragon, since they have no Move Silently ability as a thief does. However, if the surprise roll simply means it is a detection roll, then it could mean that an elf or halfling might have the ability to do so even though they don't possess the class ability (but they must be alone and not in metal armor). If you are a halfling or elf, and not wearing metal armor, you are giving up protection for the increase in stealth, so it is somewhat balanced. Should an elven magic-user be sneaking up on a monster for surprise? Probably not. But most leather-wearing elves and halflings would likely be thieves anyway. In any case, it doesn't work unless they are alone, and ambushing a creature alone in a dungeon is a very risky proposition!

Okay, so if moving silently normally grants a character 3 in 6 to surprise, and moving silently and invisibly grants 4 in 6 to surprise, how does one achieve 5 in 6 to surprise? A few basic monsters actually have this chance, including huge spiders, the giant lynx, giant owls, xorn, and invisible stalkers. What does it represent? Well, the huge spiders represent a class of hunting spiders that ambush by leaping or lurking, such as wolf spiders or trapdoor spiders. Giant owls are said to glide to the attack on silent wings, so the attack is coming unexpectedly from above I suppose. Xorn can emerge from the solid rock to attack, so there really is no hint that anything is even there. Invisible stalkers are naturally invisible but also fly, so there is nothing to even warn the target before they are attacked. And the giant lynx? Who knows, that's a weird one. Maybe Gygax had a soft spot for this creature since there is nothing else to distinguish it from any other great cat (which typically have 3 in 6 or 4 in 6 chances of surprise). I don't see any reason to give a giant lynx that kind of advantage, but how often does one encounter this creature anyway?

Right off the bat, you can see that there are better chances for monsters to surprise characters than for characters to surprise monsters. Also, there is no automatic surprise for any creatures. However, this is where we get into that gray area in the rules. Some monsters are stated as being 90-95% undetectable before they attack (shadows in dim lighting, mimics, piercers, etc.). Their entire existence and mode of attack is dependent upon surprise. Does this percentage represent their ability to surprise opponents? It is a detection roll, after all, and what is a surprise roll if not a detection roll? A piercer is 95% likely to attack by surprise. How many segments of surprise does 95% represent? Since the roll is not being made on a d6, can one even use the segments rule of surprise?

An article was written in the May 1988 issue of DRAGON Magazine ("Surprise!" by Leigh L. Krehmeyer) that tried to resolve this conflict by equating non-standard surprise percentages to a number of segments depending on the die roll. I suggest that this may be unnecessary. As I stated in my original surprise article, I believe that surprise can only result in two conditions - surprise or complete surprise. These terms are used in the books themselves (although they are never defined), and I later found their definition in Original D&D (so they are a carry-over from those rules). You can still use the segment rule just fine for normal surprise chances (2 in 6), but if one side has a higher chance to surprise, you run into some issues. Say a hunting spider (5 in 6) surprises a party who had no chance to surprise the spider (using light, armored in metal armor, not really trying to be quiet, etc.). If the roll to surprise was a 5, then according to the DMG, those poor characters will now suffer 5 rounds worth of attacks as the spider mercilessly decimates (and likely poisons) them. Is this fair? Not from the players' perspective. On the other hand, per the rules, an elven archer dressed in leather armor alone in the woods comes across a camp of orcs. He can surprise them 4 in 6. Per the rules, if the surprise roll was a 4, that's 4 segments of attacks with a bow that attacks at 3x the normal rate of fire! Basically, that elf just emptied his quiver before those orcs even knew what was happening! A surprise attack is basically a flank attack, since the attack is coming at you from an undetermined/unexpected direction, so no shield or Dex bonuses for those orcs (if the DM even has this information). Most elves have higher than normal Dexterity, have +1 to hit with bows, and this elf is likely a higher level than the orcs, so his chance to hit them is pretty good. Should a lone spider be able to decimate a party, or a lone elf decimate a dozen orcs? The rules seem to support this.

Where this really gets crazy is when almost ALL the monsters encountered have non-standard chances of surprise. Consider the first time the module D1 was run at GENCON. The rules were still new, the DMG I think was not available yet, and the players were going on the word of the DMs when it came to running combat. Suddenly they were faced with drow, jermlaine, and svirfneblin, all sorts of ambush creatures in the underworld, and most of the PCs used in the tournament adventure were elves! Right there, that's a nightmare for a DM to determine all the variables involved with the surprise roll. The solution - use a second roll to determine the number of segments of a surprise. Keeping it simple allows the combat to run smoothly and still gives the benefit of surprise without an overwhelming advantage to those creatures with increased chance of surprise.

Of course, if you would prefer running surprise by-the-book, you are more than welcome to try. It's not as nightmarish at it would seem at first. Let's take the spider example above and use the scenario from T1: The Village of Hommlet as an example. In this scenario, an abandoned tower houses a huge spider lurking in the shadows. The characters enter through a broken door on the north face of an 18' diameter round tower. The setup states that it is a wolf spider (so it leaps up to 3" (30')  to attack) and that it is lurking on a portion of the ruined floor of the collapsed upper part. So, if it gained 5 segments of surprise, it would likely leap to the attack on the 1st segment (treated as a charge attack at +2 on an unsuspecting target, so no shield or Dex bonuses to AC), if it failed to hit (not likely) it would thus have 4 more bite attacks on the target before the party could even do anything. But remember that Dex adjustments affect surprise for the individual, so if anyone in the party had an 18 Dex, that person would only be surprised for 2 segments. What happens to the other party members during the other 3 segments? Does that mean that the spider gets only 3 segments of complete surprise on the party, then has to roll for initiative with the higher Dex combatant while still conducting combat in surprise segments? This is what it seems like to me. That means that the spider and high Dex party member roll initiative for the last 3 segments of surprise, have to continue moving at segment speed, and can otherwise act as if attacking during a surprise segment. If the character were a thief, they could move to the spider (1 segment), then attack twice (2 segments); if they were an illusionist or magic-user, they could cast a 1 segment spell (1 segment), move (1 segment), then stab the spider with a dagger (1 segment); if they were a fighter they could move and attack as a thief, above; and if they were a cleric or druid they could move and attack, but spellcasting would likely be impossible since segment speed must be used, and most cleric/druid spells take 3+ segments to cast. If the high Dex character was the target of the spider's attack, then he would suffer 2 segments of attacks from the spider (one leaping charge attack, plus one normal attack), followed by 3 segments of initiative between the two combatants. In any case, the character involved in the combat above is likely level 1-3, and surviving 5 segments of poison bites is not very likely. What is more likely is that the character would be attacked successfully on the initial leap/charge attack, fail his poison save, then be dragged by the spider off into the shadows to be fed upon. The outcome would be death for that character. And considering that this is only the second encounter in the module as written, that player would be forced to spend the next few hours hating the game or rolling up another character that the DM has to somehow work into the game.

If you decide not to use the segment rule as written, you also have to modify the Reaction adjustment for Dexterity rule, otherwise characters with 17-18 Dexterity scores are NEVER surprised. If this sounds fair to you, then by all means use this. Otherwise, I would suggest that you only negate one segment of surprise if they have any Reaction bonus of +1 or higher. Thus, if the creature gains surprise, their reflexes counter it. If the creature gains complete surprise, however, then they only mitigate surprise for one segment and are able then to act before their slower companions.

Surprise can be devastating by-the-book with archers at the ready. Assume a typical adventuring party of 3 fighters, a cleric, a magic-user, and maybe two thieves enters the underworld and is ambushed by a band of 8 drow fighters of 3rd level all armed with hand crossbows hidden on an upper ledge. Assuming that there are no rangers or monks in the party, they are at the mercy of the normal surprise chances for the drow (which is 75%). Since the light sources of the party are torches, the drow are not affected by the party's light and cannot be surprised since they will see this light approach from a long distance away. Hand crossbows have a fire rate of 1, so if they gain surprise, they can each fire 3 bolts each segment (DMG, p. 62, 1st column, 3rd paragraph). So how many segments of surprise are gained?

Well, you can do this one of two ways. By the book there is no explanation; you could convert the percentage rolled to segments by dividing that number by roughly 17%. Thus if the roll was 73%, the party is surprised for 73/17 = 4.29 segments, rounded to the next nearest whole number, so 4 segments of surprise. Assuming that the crossbows are loaded and each drow has enough bolts, that would result in 4 segments x 8 drow x 3 shots/drow = 96 attacks before the party even has a chance to react. Remember that this does not count reaction adjustments for the characters, and attacks should be made as if the characters are unaware, thus they are treated as flank attacks unless some drow get rear attacks at +2 (this means no shield or Dex adjustments). Add in the -4 saves versus poison for the drow darts and you can see how devastating surprise rules are by-the-book.

It has been suggested by some on the Dragonsfoot forums that the 3x fire rate is based on the round, not the segment. So an arrow that has a fire rate of 2 normally, would have a fire rate of 6 during surprise. This would result in an arrow being shot every other segment with two shots coming back-to-back at the middle of the round (X o X o X X o X o X). So you can then determine that if you have 4 segments of surprise, an archer should get a shot on the 1st and 3rd segments. Therefore, they are NOT getting 3 shots each segment, but rather an increased fire rate that allows possibly more shots to be fired faster. Note that spells (and magic item usage) that are based on segments still require that amount of time to use! So if you have a 3 segment casting time for a spell or 2 segment activation time for a wand, you still need that time to cast or use the item regardless of whether you have surprise segments or normal rounds. In the case of the hand crossbows, 3x fire rate would result in no more than three shots per round, or roughly one shot every 3 segments of surprise. Thus they would have 1 shot on the 1st segment and another on the 4th segment. This is much more in line with the intention of the rule. Given that fire rates in the PHB range from 1/2 to 3, one can make a chart based on how many and when they go during surprise.

Fire Rate   3x Fire Rate Round (X = shot, o = delay or reload)
1/2            (X o o o o o X o o o)(o o o X o o o o o o)
1               (X o o o X o o o X o)
2               (X o X o XX o X o X)
3               (X X X X X X o X X X)

According to the above, if you are using a heavy crossbow (fire rate 1/2) you would get, at most, one shot off before requiring to reload, even at 3x rate. A troglodyte hurling a javelin (fire rate 1) would get only 1 shot off unless they somehow got 5 segments of surprise (which I don't believe is possible since they can only surprise 4 in 6 at most). An elven archer with 4 in 6 surprise and fire rate of 2 for his bow would at most get 2 shots off. And lastly, a jermlaine throwing darts fire rate 3) with 5 in 6 chance for surprise, would be able to throw a missile every segment of surprise gained! In this way, only melee attacks are treated as if it were a round. This makes sense since a round of time for melee is supposed to consist of dodging, riposting, and deflected attacks; if the surprised person cannot defend themselves, then all those thrusts and slashes are actually uncontested and have a chance of hitting and scoring damage.

Your other option is to simply use the method I've suggested in other posts. Each surprise roll has two components: the check to see if surprise exists, and then if so how many segments it lasts. If the first roll indicates surprise, the second roll of d6 means that 1-3 = one segment, and 4-6 = two segments. You might allow stealthy opponents to cause +1 or even +2 segments of surprise (or change the ranges so that 1-3 = 1 segment, 4-5 = 2 segments, and 6 = 3 segments), and if this is done Reaction adjustments should be used as normal. Otherwise, if a character gains a Reaction adjustment from high Dexterity, simply reduce the second roll by 1. In this way, complete surprise (2 segments) still has a chance of affecting a high Dexterity character and does not make them immune to surprise. Using the drow example above, the DM could roll for surprise chance - let's say he rolls 53%, thus indicating surprise. Then a roll of 2 on d6 indicates that there is 1 segment of surprise. High Dex characters would be able to negate this surprise individually. If the roll indicated there were 2 segments of surprise, even high Dex characters would be surprised. Using this method, allow the 3x fire rate per segment, as it will be far less devastating. Thus, if the drow gained 1 segment, they could fire freely on those surprised at 3 shots per segments, but only get 1 shot on those who are not surprised. If the drow scored 2 segments (complete surprise) then they get off 6 shots each (3 shots per segment for 2 segments) before the party can react. This could still lead to a bad ambush situation, but much better than being surprised for 4 segments by-the-book.

Again, interpretation of the rules and how the DM wishes to view Surprise is important and should be worked out ahead of time so that the players know the mechanics of surprise before the condition occurs. Although I favor by-the-book rules in most circumstances, this is because I have yet to use non-standard surprise creatures in my adventures. That is about to change with the characters in my AD&D campaign about to engage multiple drow in the dungeons of G3. Hopefully, the experience won't end my campaign!

AD&D 1st Edition: The Slow Spell

There are few spells in the modern version of the D&D game that are overly powerful as written. This is because, after years of play-testing in various previous incarnations, these spells have been "balanced" (a.k.a "nerfed") in order to make play "fair." Gygax had no intention of balancing magic except to make it nearly impossible for magic-users to survive long enough to become accomplished wizards. Some spells break the rules more than others. The 3rd level magic-user spell slow is one of those spells.

On the surface, the slow spell seems to be only a reverse of the haste spell. In essence, the spell halves the affected creatures' speed and number of attacks allowed for the round. But there are subtleties involved with this spell that one does not realize until they have done some research in the DMG. For one thing, unlike the haste spell, the slow spell can be cast multiple times on the same targets! The effects are cumulative. Thus, if a magic-user casts it twice on the same group, then their speed is quartered and they attack once every 4 rounds! Another bonus is that, per the DMG p. 67, under the title Special "To Hit" Bonuses, one can see that slowed targets are +4 to be hit! This just adds insult to injury as hasted characters are not harder to hit (although they should be!).

The magic-user in my campaign memorizes slow spells instead of fireballs because they are much easier to deal with and give everyone in the party a buff to hit while keeping the monsters from engaging properly in combat. It's a killer spell against giants, mainly because it has NO saving throw! The only downfall is that it has a 40' x 40' square area, and placement should be rather hard to accomplish without catching some of your party in the area of effect. However, in large caverns and spacious giant fortresses, this spell has been key to the party's success throughout the G-series of modules! In fact, the magic-user makes sure to replace the slow spell in the party ranger's ring of spell storing after each casting! This means that the group can go into up to 4 encounters knowing they will have the advantage (they have not encountered many magic resistant creatures or spell turning rings....yet).

My major gripe with the spell is the lack of a saving throw. The multiple-casting cumulative effect of the slow spell is also a bit much and breaks the rule of spell effects stacking from the same spell type. I find this spell to be a bit overwhelming, but it does allow a party to survive much longer than they might otherwise have a right to. I let them gloat in their victories knowing full well what awaits them on the 3rd dungeon level of the Halls of the Fire Giant King!

AD&D 1st Edition: Combat Basics

The singularly most confusing chapter in the AD&D 1E Dungeon Masters Guide (DMG) is also the most important for any DM to know. Of course, I'm speaking of the COMBAT chapter. Tucked away in the middle of this large tome of esoteric knowledge for the DM, it seems that its organization and cross-references leave the fledgling DM bewildered and dazed as to how to properly run a combat, be it by sword, spell, or missile.

It has taken me several years to appreciate the rules as presented in the DMG. At first, they are a confusing hodge-podge of seemingly trivial information, but eventually, after using the rules for many combats, one comes to appreciate certain fundamental time-savers and conventions that really allow one to streamline the game (so long as everyone is on board and paying attention to all that's going on in the combat).

The beginning of this chapter is basically an explanation of terms intrinsic to understanding what combat is and is not in AD&D. Gygax succintly points out that this is NOT a realistic combat simulator by any means - it is a system for use in a game to manage a large number of combatants easily and quickly. In my opinion, the ease and speed is sometimes compromised by fiddly rules that only crop up in certain circumstances, but it is definitely faster that later versions of the game or other systems with a plethora of hit-location charts or multiple rolls each round. Of course, this assumes that the players are on board and paying attention, have all their bonuses and penalties already calculated, and don't waste time or cause problems by being argumentative.

At it's heart, the combat system basically takes a round of time (1 minute) and breaks it down into actions and reactions. The side with the initiative acts; the side that lost initiative reacts. So, at the barest bones, the system can run with just a few dice rolls. This is further complicated by other actions that either "break the rules" (a.k.a. spells), or tweak the rules (advanced character abilities, magic items, combat options, etc.), depending on how in depth the combat gets. At it's very core, however, the combatants only need to know a few things: who has the initiative, the combatants' Armor Classes, and how many hit points they have, currently and in total.

Many people have a problem with hit points. Mostly, these same people are narrative/story enthusiasts and look for tragically long death scenes, wearing down opponents through exhaustion, or gaining other advantages through realistic simulation of events. Again, Gygax reminds us that that is not the case in a game where the goal is to keep the action moving and have fun without taking an inordinate amount of time or brainpower by constantly referring to charts, tables, and esoteric rules. Hit points represent more than simply health and stamina. They also represent luck, divine favor, skill, and other factors. A killing blow to a common man with only 2-7 hit points, would be more like a scratch or bruise to a 9th level fighter with 16 Constitution and 9d10+18 hit points. The increase in hit points means that the 9th level fighter can more easily survive a number of blows that would otherwise kill a man, but wearing down of hit points means that luck is running out, favor is failing, and exhaustion is setting in. Some balk at death at 0 hit points - this rule, although written into the Players Handbook, is actually changed in the DMG to be death at -10 hit points, but dying at 0 hit points and lower. Apparently, even Gygax thought that a character with only 1-4 hit points at 1st level had a much less chance of surviving past 1st level. Death at -10 hp actually allows a buffer between life and permanent death. If the party can extract themselves from a combat with a downed character, they can retreat to safety and, even though that character is "penalized" by wasting time recovering, they are not dead and may continue adventuring afterward. More importantly, they don't forfeit any experience gains up to that point (obviously, if using by-the-book rules for experience, that character will no longer gain XP during the rest of the adventure since they can no longer function at normal capacity).

Gygax also explains that Dexterity has little impact on striking blows in a combat, except as a modifier to Armor Class, due to the length of the combat round. He also states that weapon length and speed factors usually don't impact combat either (except in special circumstances like charging and tied initiative). In fact, it's important to note that most of the fiddly rules regarding initiative and some combat options are all exceptions to the rule, not the standard. I cannot stress that enough. The space that they are allotted in the rulebook overly inflates their importance, but they are the exceptions, not the norm.

During my years as DM I found that players need a more tactical setup to reference during game play, specifically one set to scale (or close to it) in order for them to make informed decisions of what their characters can and cannot do. Without some physical, visual representation, it is hard for many players to visualize the size and shape of the combat area, where all the combatants are located, or even how many there are! Running some of the modules written for AD&D, especially the G-series, is a completely different experience when using physical representations of the combat area and miniatures than if running it completely using one's imagination. Some encounter areas are more congested than others, strewn about with rubble, furniture, or other obstacles only mentioned in the room description. Imagine a fighter trying to charge into a room dominated by tables and chairs of giant size, or several fire giants attempting to attack a halfling able to dodge around rubble or stalagmites in a cave setting. Casting a fireball is tricky enough without having to guess its placement because the player can't visualize an oddly shaped room or estimate the volume of a rough cave. Miniatures and a playing map, or even a computerized map program, are almost essential in these cases. Although part of the fun of AD&D was mapping the dungeon and exploring the area, combat encounter maps go a long way towards helping the players engage intelligently with the environment.

In general terms, the basics of combat boil down to the following steps and actions:

1. Determine if either or both parties are SURPRISED.
2. Determine distance, if unknown, between the parties.
3. If both parties are unsurprised, or equally surprised, determine INITIATIVE for that round.
4. Determine the results of whatever actions are decided upon by the party with initiative.
    A. Avoid engagement (flee, slam door, use magic to escape, etc.) if possible.
    B. Attempt to parley.
    C. Await action by other party.
    D. Discharge missiles or magical device attacks or cast spells or turn undead.
    E. Close to striking range, or charge.
    F. Set weapons against possible opponent charge.
    G. Strike blows with weapons, to kill or subdue.
    H. Grapple or hold.
5. Determine the results of whatever actions are decided upon by the party which lost the initiative (as per A. through H. above).
6. Continue each melee round by determination of distance, initiative, and actions until melee ends due to fleeing, inability to continue, or death of one or both parties.

In other versions of the game (namely Basic and Expert D&D), the above steps are divided into sub-steps that are intended to work like a flow chart. This system, however, is not a step by step procedure, and some of the above steps are skipped depending on circumstances. For example, if surprise is not a factor, and the distance is known, then the first two steps are unnecessary. Initiative should always be rolled for a round in which two sides are engaged in some sort of activity against one another (or where timing is important). It's the actions listed under step 4. that seem to confuse everyone. They are lettered, not numbered, thus they can occur in any order and do not have to follow a strict pattern as they do in Basic/Expert rules. They simply describe TYPES of actions. For example, action D. represents some sort of ranged attack, action E. represents movement, and action G. represents melee combat with hand-held weapons. One should not go down the list, A. through H., and perform each action in order - that's not the intention of this list. It is merely listing options that can be performed on one's initiative portion of the round. It's also important to realize that surprise can be an individual thing or a group thing. I say this because surprise can (and does) happen DURING a combat as well and should be considered whenever invisible combatants attempt to attack someone otherwise engaged in another activity and not aware of the invisible attacker.

So this then is the heart of the combat system, the basis upon which all the other rules rest. Discounting surprise and distance calculations, each round there is an initiative roll, followed by the winners performing their actions, then the losers, with all results being immediately applied for one side before moving on to the other (unless initiative is tied, of course). Combat only begins when both sides are willing to fight; it ends when there are no more combatants due to death, failed morale, or surrender/truce. Do not discount the importance of morale in a combat; it can save unnecessary loss of resources and permit a party to advance further during an expedition than they normally would. Also avoiding encounters is a smart way to bypass time- or resource-wasting situations, or simply allows the party to reach its goal faster and easier. That's not to say that AD&D should have no combat whatsoever, and killing monsters is still a good way to gain experience points (although not as good as gaining treasure). However, I should point out that low-level parties have a much harder time with large groups of monsters and should probably avoid unnecessary or deadly encounters whenever possible. AD&D is much more a thinking combatant's game, not a brainless romp through the dungeon kicking in doors, slaying every monster therein, and stealing away all the treasure. Good players take their time, weigh their options, and then decide to engage or avoid encounters based on their resources available.

AD&D: Regenerating Trolls

Well, after 19+ years of running my current campaign, the party finally had to tackle a group of trolls. Up to now, trolls were something encountered as a boogie man, something to frighten them into doing something or avoiding something. They rarely came face to face with more than one troll (or ogre mage) at a time, and avoided encounters with more than one using spells or simply walking away. Well, they could NOT avoid a group of trolls coming at them down the hall to investigate the combat occurring in the drow priestesses' chambers! This time we would see how well they fought trolls, especially without all their fire spells!

The curious thing about trolls is that regeneration is not well-defined in AD&D 1st edition. Trolls are also peculiar in that they don't start to regenerate until 3 rounds have elapsed since they were first damaged. Thereafter they regenerate damage at the rate of 3 hit points per round. It is assumed that death by normal blows (i.e. reduction to 0 hit points) does not kill a troll. The -10 rule for death introduced in the DMG should probably apply to them, but it just makes the math screwy when trying to deal with multiple trolls in a large encounter.

In the past, I've had any damage done to a troll reduce it as far as -10 hit points then stop. So long as the characters kept hitting them, they would thus remain down and unable to retaliate as oil was poured on them and lit. However, I don't believe that this was intended to be this way. Since 0 hit points was defined as death in the Player's Handbook, and the Monster Manual was written even before that, I assume that trolls should be brought no lower than 0 hit points. If you are able to reduce them that low in the initial first 3 rounds, then yes, you have a window of opportunity to soak them in oil (if handy) and light them up! Otherwise, they will revive each round thereafter until they can stand up from prone and kick your ass!

Now, the curious thing about fire and acid with trolls is that they cannot regenerate damage from those types. Does this mean that they take damage to their current AND full hit points? I think not. The act of burning a troll is meant to keep them dead. Hit points removed prior to the burning should not be counted. Thus if you get a troll to 0 hit points, then set them on fire, you are essentially keeping them from regenerating as you consume the body in flames. Otherwise you have to keep separate totals for each troll for normal damage vs. fire/acid damage. Now this can be done (it's a nightmare, but it can be tracked), but it seems that it would be impossible to do based on the rules for burning oil. According to the DMG, a single flask of oil burns for 2 rounds when used as a missile weapon. This causes 2d6 damage the first round, 1d6 damage the second round, and burns out by the third round. This seems fair for missile use, since there is a splash effect which disperses oil in a radius around the creature. Assuming that half the volume is thus lost in this manner, then pouring a flask of oil on the creature directly should allow it to burn for 4 rounds time instead of 2. Thus the troll above would be taking 2d6 damage the first round, and 1d6 damage for 3 rounds thereafter, for a total of 5d6 (or 5-30) points of damage. Now a troll has 6+6 Hit Dice. That's 6d8+6 hit points (or 12-54). As you can see, the average damage from fire (about 17 points) has no chance of fully destroying a troll (with average hp of 33). A DM could simply state that 2 oil flasks are required for each troll (dealing with averages only). However, I propose that a burning troll is prevented from regenerating once it is burned. So long as the oil is applied "post mortem" (aka at 0 hit points), then a single flask will consume the troll once it has taken 10 points of damage total (thus reducing it to -10 hit points and permanent death).

Rarely would a troll escape an encounter alive. However, in the situation my party found themselves in, they faced 7 trolls without fire spells (they're in the fire giant lair right now) or magic items (the magic-user burned out her wand of fire in the frost giant lair), and they came in with minimal oil for fear of being ignited by fire-using creatures (oh, Gary Gygax, you were an evil genius). Those trolls could have been much more since they were not encountered as a random encounter, but rather were fetched by the drow's accomplice in my plot as he escaped the initial death and mayhem meted out to the drow disciples of the priestess. The party only had enough oil with them to kill 5 of the trolls, the other 2 trolls left the scene after they witnessed the party burning their relatives alive! The party then left as quickly as they could, but even so they are far from civilization and are unable to get more oil flasks at this time. No doubt they will waste some of their spell selections on the next day with fire spells (and if I have anything to say about it, they would encounter only fire resistant fire giants and other monsters....).

The other strange thing about trolls is the fact that severed pieces will slither back together or continue to attack, if able, on their own. A funny picture in the original modules shows a dismembered troll hanging on with claws and fangs to a fighter trying to hack at it with a sword. Now this usually will not occur in AD&D. There are no hit location charts and damage is generic, not specific. The concept of the troll breaking into pieces with each hit probably stemmed from someone with a sword of sharpness or vorpal blade in the original dungeons run by Gygax. Without those two types of specific magic items, severing a troll's limbs cannot occur in normal combat! This is another case of one specific instance being applied universally in a confusing manner which makes it seem that it occurs more frequently than it does. One DM I ran with in the past assumed that troll parts separated from the whole will grow a whole new troll! Actually, the parts always seek to recombine with the original creature, so trolls cannot reproduce asexually in this manner. (This DM came up with a literal meat grinder for trolls.... a whole chamber was literally filled with regenerating troll parts...)

Also, trolls are not made of flash paper - simply touching a torch to a troll does not set it on fire any more than passing a finger through a candle flame would set a human on fire. Specific spells that state that they set things on fire are needed (such as burning hands, produce fire, flame strike or fireball). A good point to remember is that damage can be caused by fire without actually BEING on fire (skin blisters or ruptures), and is represented by a successful saving throw (if applicable). If a spell says it sets things on fire, and there is no saving throw, then you are on fire! Item saving throws are used to see if items carried are destroyed by the fire or are still salvageable.

So, regenerating trolls are confusing as hell! Having never dealt with by-the-book rules on regeneration and oil use before, this was sort of an eye opener for me. It took 3 weeks in the same 2 rooms for these "house rules" to be developed - once I saw how little damage burning oil did and the nature of troll hit points, I had to come up with a solution or the party would never get out of there!

Review: Dungeon Module N2 The Forest Oracle

This module is listed as one of (if not the) worst module ever written. It was one of the first of the orange-top-border format modules along with I2 Tomb of the Lizard King, I3-I5 The Desert of Desolation trilogy, and the EX1-2 series of Wonderland modules. This time period of AD&D shows a decline not only in physical product quality, but in content as well. The modules written were either too generic to be useful, or overly specific, with little or no middle ground. The rules as written were ignored in favor of twisted plotlines and story. Suddenly, we went from witty one-liners and inside jokes in otherwise serious adventure modules to entire slapstick pun dungeons like WG7: Castle Greyhawk or boring melodramas like Dragonlance. AD&D had become a running joke! Unfortunately, this is the time period in which I was introduced to the game (1983-1984) and I've spent decades collecting the older material (which I consider to be superior in every way).

Module N2: The Forest Oracle seems to suffer from a lack of knowledge of the rules. In a time when AD&D was supposed to represent the tournament-level rules used by all players, this module decided to depart from the norm with strange rules on surprise chances and stats that made no sense. Character levels and casting abilities did not match. Stats that were obviously written for varying Hit Dice were suddenly combined into an attack routine. This was bad editing at its worst!

The numbering scheme of the modules usually indicates some connectivity - in this case, the module has no connection whatsoever with N1 Against the Cult of the Reptile God or N3 Destiny of Kings. I believe the "N" designation stood for "Novice," so all these modules were written for low-level characters or new players. That seems to be the only common thread in the initial N-series of modules. So, those DMs hoping to get another gem like N1 were disappointed when this stinker of a module came out (and is probably the main reason why so many people despise this module).

The plot, although thin, could be beefed up by any DM worth his salt to fit into his or her own campaign. It would take some work to place this anywhere in the World of Greyhawk setting, but it would work well in a 1st edition version of the Forgotten Realms. The basic premise: a farming region known as The Downs has been cursed so that nothing grows and the animals are starving, and the party must find out why and reverse the effects. Simple enough on the surface. But the quest has the characters crossing wilderness at levels 2-4 (a most dangerous time to be encountering large parties of creatures or wilderness-type encounters) in search of Druids who will make everything right as rain. Seems like a pretty soft plotline already.

The encounters that comprise this module are like DUNGEON Magazine side treks that are simply all strung together in module form. It would not surprise me to learn that the author wrote all these little adventures as 1-page fillers and stuffed them in a drawer, then later arranged them on a desk and said, "Now I've got a module." It generally doesn't work out well when someone does that. Not only are these encounters disconnected from one another (except as quests performed to complete a quest), but there are so damn many of them! In a wilderness region with no safe refuge in sight for miles, a group of low-level characters will quickly be overwhelmed and begin dropping like flies when all their resources run dry.

Consider a party of 6-8 players characters (more likely to be 2-4 PCs plus henchmen, if available) getting involved in about 4 encounters in the wilderness. Sheer numbers and spent resources mean that they will have to rest frequently. Eventually they will run out of consumables and ammo. Their destination is still some distance away, and once they arrive they still will not be able to replenish some things (like arrows, bolts, sling bullets, oil flasks, holy water, etc.) which are vital to the continuation of the adventure. Then one has to consider all the treasure recovered by the party. Some of the hauls in the module list treasure in the thousands-of-coins; this is simply too much for a party to haul out by themselves and still be on the move.

The adventure itself has some leeway in how the players can proceed, but the obstacles (river crossings, mountain passes, underground tunnels, etc.) basically make this a linear plot, if not a railroaded plot, and we all know how much players like these. Well, experienced players hate them; new players might actually embrace a linear plot that hides its railroading nature! Not everyone new to the game knows what to do coming out of the chute, so it's helpful to give them a little push now and then while still making it seem like they are making the choice.

However, bad editing and railroaded plotlines aside, the adventure is long enough and detailed enough to provide a good DM with some interesting ideas and keep the players occupied for several sessions. Obviously, if an encounter makes no sense, or the DM doesn't like the tone or treasures therein, he or she can change or omit the content to suit his or her campaign. I don't want to give specific examples because I don't want to spoil the adventure. Let's just say that the Druid Oracle makes no sense whatsoever in terms of AD&D rules and the method given to enact the "cure" is lackluster at best.

I don't think this is the worst module ever written. It has some good points, but it takes some work and a good DM to make it worthwhile. A much worse adventure is WG9 Gargoyle, which is simply abysmal and not worth the paper it's printed on.

AD&D: Weapon Statistics Used in Combat

For many long years, my AD&D group ran combat without a second thought to all the "useless" statistics listed in the Players Handbook. The combats were fast and easily resolved, but sometimes boring or repetitive. There seemed to be little reason to use one weapon over another, and all the characters simply chose the weapons that did the most "bang" for their buck. This led to most fighters wielding long swords with shields, and most other characters using maces, short swords, or staves as necessary.

And, of course, this is a fine way to play the game. However, at some point the characters or DM may cry foul when a weapon is used against them in a way in which it could not possibly be used if common sense is applied. Some examples: a group of characters in a 10' wide corridor all wielding polearms and two-handed swords; or a longbow wielding elf making a 110' shot in a narrow, low-ceilinged tunnel. These are unrealistic uses of weapons in AD&D.

The statistics listed in the Players Handbook on pages 37 and 38 are there for a reason. They differentiate the weapons in such a way as to make choice mean something. Some weapons are better at bypassing certain types of armor; others are much worse. Choice of armor is also important here, as is the choice of using a shield. Although I don't necessarily agree with all the rules presented in the PHB, I see the reason for having them. I am one of the very few who still uses the Weapon vs. Armor Class tables in combat. The only real problem I have with the charts is the minuscule amount of damage that crossbows cause (and we've since upgraded the damage as a house rule).

The rules as presented make sense. A Dungeon Master should have a good idea of why the rules are there before deciding to just randomly drop them. Some knowledge of how weapons are used in combat is also important. For example, although it is not stated in the rules, short swords are piercing weapons, not really meant for slashing. As such, they are better at penetrating some types of armor than others, and are used in a completely different manner than long swords. Thus, a gnome or halfling using a short sword simply because of size is not using a shorter form of long sword. This is an important concept to remember. Some weapons should be used two-handed due to their weight or size - typically the footman's weapons were wielded two-handed on the battle field and look much different than the horseman's variety which were one-handed and lighter by necessity. Consider the footman's flail at 4' length compared to the horseman's flail at 2' length. A footman's flail is designed to be used like a threshing flail (which it is based upon) using both hands (and thus precluding use of a shield), while a horseman's flail is more or less a ball and chain on a stick (or multiple such balls attached to the same stick) made to be used by a horseman with one hand. Looking at the table, one can see that the impact of the two-handed flail is much heavier (causing 2-7/2-8 damage) and easier to strike those with heavier armor, while those wearing no armor are harder to hit (likely due to the ability to dodge easier without armor, thus the -1 to hit AC 10). The other flail is much better at striking lightly armored foes, but not the heavier armored ones as the weapon is much lighter and easily turned by the thicker armor. Deciding to use a horseman's flail, however, frees up the other hand to use a shield, it is slightly quicker to use, and can be used in a closer combat situation. The footman's flail on the other hand requires 6' of space to swing effectively! This could be detrimental if the party is stuck in a 5' wide narrow tunnel underground...

Some weapons can be used to disarm a mounted horseman. Most of these are pole arms which would be otherwise hindering to their wielder in a confined dungeon setting. Many people prefer not to use pole arms because they can't pronounce their names, don't know what they look like, how they are used, or they don't cause as much damage as they hoped. However, these weapons are very versatile and can be used to make maneuvers not normally used by PCs in combat. For instance, who has ever attempted to disarm an opponent in AD&D? While wielding a spetum, one can do so by scoring a hit on an opponent vs. AC 8!  A glaive-guisarme wielded by a gnoll could be used to pull a paladin from his mount on a successful hit roll greater than that needed.

To give you some examples of how weapon choice impacts combat, let's look at some characters from my current campaign:

Hamlin, halfling 6th level fighter w/ short sword+ 1 of quickness, scale mail & shield.
Falim, human 9th level ranger with scimitar, chain mail &shield.
Gustav, dwarf 7th level fighter with battle axe and chain mail.

VS.

Gnoll archer with AC 5 (assumed chain mail) and longbow.
Gnoll leader with AC 4 (assumed chain mail and shield) and battle axe (used one-handed due to size)
Gnoll warrior with AC 5 (assumed chain mail) and glaive.

There is no surprise and the parties begin in the wilderness about 130 yards away. The gnolls spotted the party as they crested a ridge and the party saw the gnolls on a rocky rise along the roadside. The party is mounted - with Falim on a light warhorse and Gustav and Hamlin on war ponies. The gnolls are on foot. The first round of combat the party will close the distance to 30 yards and dismount while the gnoll archer looks to plug away at them with arrows. Looking on the charts, the gnoll archer gains 2 attacks with a longbow each round. Since he is using the same weapon, this means (according to strict reading of the DMG and not using my house rules) that he fires at the beginning of the round and the end of the round. Random determination shows that the first shot is aimed at Gustav (AC type 5). A longbow at 130 yards is considered at Medium range (-2 to hit; see PHB bottom of page 38), and the gnoll gets +1 to hit AC type 5, so his roll is adjusted by a total of -1. The gnoll normally needs an 11 to hit; the DM rolls a 2 and misses. The party concludes its crossing while the other gnolls cautiously move up 10 yards to engage. At the end of the round, the gnoll takes another shot while the party is at 30 yards. Since they are not yet engaged in melee, he rolls randomly for a target, this time setting his sights on Falim. Falim is an accomplished Ylari horseman and has dismounted at the end of his movement, but has not yet drawn his weapon or readied his shield. The DM decides to grant partial cover from his horse, thus causing a -2 penalty to hit. The gnoll archer is now at short range (no penalty) and also gains +1 to hit AC type 5 as before. He needs the same 11 to hit Falim and scores a 10. Normally this would have hit Falim, but the arrow instead hits his horse causing 5 points of damage!

With the first round ended. The party is now 30 yards away from the gnoll archer and 20 yards from the other gnolls. The gnoll leader and warrior declare a charge while Hamlin and Gustav dismount and arm themselves with weapon and shield. Falim declares a charge as well. The dice are rolled and the initiative goes to the party. However, the gnoll archer gets to fire first! His randomly rolled target is Hamlin, within short range but before he is able to equip his shield (thus AC type 6). The gnoll fires at +2 to hit his armor type. The DM rolls a 14 and easily hits the halfling for 5 points of damage! Falim and the gnolls charge at a bonus of +3" to movement rate (see charging outdoors, DMG page 66), thus they are all moving at 12 yards per segment and will clash on the first segment. Falim engages the gnoll leader while the other gnoll charges on to engage Hamlin on the second segment. Falim's scimitar is only 3' long; the gnoll leader's battle axe is 4' long, and thus the gnoll leader strikes first! Charging grants +2 to hit and Falim will be penalized +1 to his AC (because he has no Dex bonus to take away). Falim's AC Type is now AC 4 with his shield so the gnoll leader suffers a -1 penalty with his axe. His HD are considered to be 3, but this is the same column on the "to hit" chart as a normal 2 HD gnoll. He therefore needs a base of 12 to hit AC 4. The roll is an 18! The gnoll causes 7 points of damage to Falim (6 damage rolled +1 from 16 strength[see DMG page 15 under Strength]). Falim survives the hit and returns an attack on the gnoll. Falim is a 9th level ranger and strikes the gnoll at +2 for charge, -2 for AC type 4, +1 from Dex penalty to gnoll's charging AC, and +1 to hit from his 17 Strength. He only needs a base roll of 8 to succeed. He rolls a 17 and hits the gnoll for (6 points rolled + 1 Strength +9 ranger vs. humanoid) 16 points of damage, killing him with one strike! Falim smiles slightly as the gnoll collapses from his expert swordsmanship; a strike of vengeance in the name of Al-Kalim for the injuring of his noble steed! Then the gnoll warrior arrives at Hamlin who is able to have his shield and weapon at the ready (the party won initiative after all). The gnoll warrior is the only one able to strike because he charged; Hamlin would have had to have crossed to engage, so he will not be able to return an attack this round. The gnoll is gaining +2 to hit due to the charge, and is using a (two-handed) glaive vs. armor type 5 (scale + shield) without any adjustments. He needs a base 12 to hit the halfling (who gains a -1 defense adj. from Dex). The DM rolls a 10 + 2 = 12! The gnoll hits the halfling for 2 points of damage (1 rolled + 1 for strength), and Hamlin sneers at the gnoll. At the end of the round, Gustav is armed and ready to move into combat, but the archer takes another shot, aiming at the dwarf who is the only one not in melee combat. The dwarf is much smaller and his pony probably grants him a -4 cover bonus to AC against the gnoll archer. The gnoll has +1 to hit his AC type and is at short range (no penalty), so he is effectively attacking at -3 to hit. The DM rolls a 5 and misses the dwarf and his pony!

The following round, Gustav declares a charge against the gnoll archer while Falim crosses to assist Hamlin. Hamlin has a short sword +1 of quickness which allows him a hasted attack before all others in the round as well as his normal attack as a 6th level fighter. The only caveat is that he must begin his round in melee range to make the hasted attack (which he is, thanks to the gnoll's charge). Initiative is rolled; Party gets a 2 but the gnolls got a 6! Gustav speeds off towards the gnoll archer but the archer gets a first attack on the dwarf. Gustav's AC is worse by +1 due to his charge. The gnoll archer scores an 18 and hits the dwarf for 2 points of damage. Gustav grunts and continues to run forward. Hamlin then strikes quickly at the gnoll warrior with his short sword (+1 for enchanted blade, +0 for armor type) and scores a 15 total, more than enough to hit the gnoll. The gnoll is size Large and the sword thus does 9 points of damage to it (8 points rolled + 1 for magic blade). The gnoll had only 9 points and drops dead from the stabbing blow of the halfling. Falim, on his way to help, stops and nods at the halfling, then turns towards the gnoll archer. Gustav arrives at the gnoll archer by the middle of the round and strikes at him with his two-handed battle axe (note that the length of the battle axe is about the same as the dwarf's height, hence it MUST be two-handed for him to use). He is striking at +2 to hit from the charge, with a modifier of -1 vs. armor type, +1 from 17 strength). Gustav rolls an 18 modified to a 20 and scores a hit, causing 5 points of damage (4 points rolled + 1 from strength). The gnoll archer is wounded but still alive. Since the dwarf is now within melee range, the gnoll's longbow is useless. With Falim heading his way and both his comrades dead, the gnoll seeks to flee from the combat. However, since he has already taken a shot this round, the DM determines that fleeing will occur next round.

The party rolls initiative (as no one can charge except the halfling, who is unlikely to catch up to a fleeing gnoll anyway). The party scores a 3 and the gnoll a 2. Gustav will get his parting shot on the fleeing gnoll, striking him as if a rear attack on a stunned opponent (no Dex or Shield, +4 to hit). Gustav strikes with a roll of 15 which is more than sufficient to hit with all his bonuses and scores another 5 points of damage, killing the wounded gnoll!

As you can see, the stats of the weapons came into play quite a bit during that battle. The weapon vs. armor type was referenced during every exchange, the length of the weapons came into play with the charging rules for first strike determination, and it could be seen that a long bow is very effective against targets in light or medium armor. The outdoors allow larger weapons to be used effectively (as they were designed) and the longbow is a weapon that needs to arc the arrow high in order to hit its target (almost like aiming a catapult). The closer the target, the steeper the arc needs to be. Proficiency with a weapon allows the user to make the necessary calculations in their heads before the shot is made. The non-proficiency penalty here would likely make the missile miss the target since the calculations are hard to make when you're not used to the weapon's range.

If the combatants tied their initiative at any point during the combat, then speed factors would come into play to see who struck first or how many times they could strike! For example, Hamlin wields a short sword with Speed Factor 3 (a quick weapon) and was fighting a gnoll with a glaive (Speed Factor 8). According to the rules on page 66 under Weapon Speed Factor, Hamlin's comparative weapon speed is 5 factors different, thus he would gain two attacks prior to the slower weapon wielder. Adding in the weapon's quickness ability, that means that the halfling could have struck the gnoll 3 times before the gnoll even got a single swing on a tied initiative! If Falim were disarmed somehow and was wielding his jambiya instead (Ylari curved dagger) and initiative was tied against the gnoll leader (battle axe = speed factor 7) then he too would have 2 attacks before the axe was even swung, not counting the fact that Falim has 3/2 attacks during combat! On a round in which he gained 2 attacks, he would strike first and last (just as the gnoll archer did above). If the tied initiative with the jambiya occurred on such a round, he would strike first, then once more before the gnoll, then last in the round as well! Speed Factors are also important in weapon vs. spell combat to see who strikes first.

Ranges are critical to determine if a target CAN be hit, and if so, at what penalty (if any). Targets within short range are at normal chances to hit. Those targets between short and medium ranges are struck at -2 to hit. Those targets between medium and long range are struck at -5 to hit. Ranges are in scale inches; thus, a range of 1/2/3 equates to 10'/20'/30' indoors and 10 yds./20 yds./30 yds. outdoors. Thus, a hurled axe goes further outdoors than indoors, mainly because there's more open space to throw and combats are less congested. Missiles are basically useless within 1" unless they are thrown (or one uses the point blank range for specialists in the Unearthed Arcana). Thus, hand-held thrown missiles can be used effectively in melee combat against any targets within range. Ranged weapons such as bows and crossbows are useless when engaged in melee, although they could probably be used as clubs with a non-proficiency penalty if necessary. The greatest strength of a crossbow is its ability to penetrate light and medium armor types. If the weapon vs. armor type charts are not used, then it becomes a much weaker weapon in combat. (As an aside, we have house-ruled hand crossbows to cause 1-4 damage, light crossbows to cause 2-8 damage, and heavy crossbows to cause 3-12 damage in order to make up for the under-powered damage of these weapons in the PHB).

Remember that armor and weapons wielded by opponents also gain the same adjustments. Thus a fire giant wielding a two-handed sword against a target in plate mail armor and shield has a +2 to hit that target! Length of the weapon would likely be double normal (so 12' for the giant) but the speed factor would remain the same since the sword is scaled to the user. Obviously, the space required would also increase to 12', thus limiting the number of fire giants that could engage in a given area. Tactically, this means that intelligent characters would seek to engage fire giants in doorways or narrow corridors to limit the number they faced at a time! Keep in mind that intelligent monsters would also use tactics and might seek to draw out bunkered targets from a tight space using boulders or flaming casks of oil that explode upon impact and spatter walls, floor, and targets with flaming oil! Small opponents like kobolds would use small stabbing weapons in confined tunnels to greatest effect. More kobolds around a single target increases their chances of hitting and allows them to attack and defend as normal.

Although there are no rules for sizing weapons in AD&D, it makes sense that halflings and gnomes could wield "long" swords specifically made for their size, thus wielding slashing weapons, instead of poking short swords. All the weapons in the PHB are assumed to be sized for humans, but demi-humans of shorter stature make weapons scaled to their own size. How much damage such weapons would cause is up to the individual DM - however, remember that size affects not only damage done but heft of the weapon as well. Some weapons cause damage because they are heavy; scaling them down might drastically reduce the damage caused by half. Otherwise, I suggest simply reducing the die type by one and removing any bonus points. Thus, a halfling-sized footman's mace would be about 1' in length, require 2' to swing, still have a speed factor of 7 for being appropriately scaled, and still possess the same weapon vs. armor type modifiers. However, the damage should be reduced from 2-7 (1d6+1) to 1d4 for small or medium targets, and from 1-6 to 1-3 for large targets. A mace's impact comes from the weight of the weapon; reducing the size seriously compromises the damage it can cause to a larger creature. Surely, the weapon will hurt, but not as much as it would to an appropriately scaled creature. Thus the mace would be reduced one die type for size S-M and halved against size L.

Don't forget also to use the armor rules in the DMG, pages 27-28. Remember that shield types are all different too. The smaller the shield, the fewer attacks it can defend against. This came into play with my current campaign when the party started tackling drow using bucklers. That buckler is only good against ONE attack each round - and at the party's current levels, they mostly get multiple attacks for the fighters! The advantage of being unarmored or in light armor is more mobility - this is reflected in base movement as well as possible initiative bonuses or penalties (as shown in the PHB, pages 101-102 under ENCUMBRANCE). Don't skimp on this rule - it could mean the lives of the thieves and magic-users in the party!