Jack Daniel
Legend
A couple of months ago, I wandered into a Barnes & Noble and started leafing through some of the new rulebooks. It was hardly the first time I'd read the 4th edition rules, but on this occasion I was struck by the elegance of many little improvements to the game: at-will powers, rituals, the magic item and treasure parcel rules, the storytelling advice in the DMG2. These are "good things"(TM) about 4th edition -- some of the best improvements it has to offer, I'd wager.
But it's still so different from what I instinctively recognize as D&D that it might as well have been written in Ancient Greek. Why didn't I buy a set of core rulebooks that day, to give 4th edition its fair hearing and try it out with my friends? Frankly, it was the very back of the PHB that put the final nail in that coffin. As soon as I saw the character sheet, I felt my gorge rise up into my throat. When the character sheet says, "you're going to need to hire H&R Block to manage this for you," it turns me right off.
Without another thought, I returned the book to the shelf and went right back to daydreaming about how my next Mentzer or OD&D campaign would unfold (as has been my habit since probably 2005). But, sometime later, I did come to realize that there was something off-putting about my knee-jerk reaction to the 4th edition rulebooks. I became aware of a duality in the dislike that many self-described grognards and card-carrying members of the Old School Renaissance (including yours truly) have for this brand-new game that sports the D&D label slapped onto the cover of every one of its rulebooks.
4th edition turned off so many old-timers and produced so much vitriol because it made sweeping changes to both the fluff and the crunch.
I don't know whether this point has been remarked on before, but I've only just noticed it myself, so bear with me. We all know that the 2nd and 3rd editions of (A)D&D created their own little uproars, the standard reactionary resistance to change that we've since come to expect and now take with a grain of salt. (In fact, the grain is probably bigger than Egon Spengler's hypothetical Twinkie.) But 4th edition seems to have met a kind of critical mass, where a significant number of people can claim without irony that it simply "isn't D&D anymore". There are significant changes to the crunch: powers for fighters, no more nine levels of fire-and-forget spells, healing surges, just to name a few of the outstanding ones. There are significant changes to the fluff: weird races and classes, right there in the core rules, that remind us more of modern video games than JRR Tolkien.
(This isn't to make a value judgment about the new fluff, since it is indeed an inclusive broadening of fantasy styles, now better apt than ever before of simultaneously handling low fantasy, high fantasy, pulp, and wahoo. But I came to D&D as a fan of Tolkien, and my expectations and preconceptions have always leaned in that direction. Should the day ever come when halflings are excised from the core rules, it really really will not be D&D anymore.)
The combination is, for some, essentially unforgivable. But I think the new D&D Essentials line might just make considerable headway in bridging the conceptual gap that separates us old-timers from the new brand of "standard D&D fluff".
For those of you yet unaware, D&D Essentials is a new line of products scheduled for release by WotC, which includes a new Red Box (introducing players to the game and covering fighters, wizards, clerics, and rogues, of the human, halfling, dwarvish, and elvish persuasions, up to 3rd level); two Player's Essentials books, one of which ("Fallen Lands") covers the classic races and classes, plus rangers and eladrin; with the other ("Forgotten Kingdoms") focusing on the new races and traditional "sub" classes (paladin, druid, warlock, etc.); and then a DM's Kit and Monster Vault.
Now, all of these products taken together seem to be a great way to introduce new players to 4th edition D&D. Kudos to WotC, as this is a brilliant marketing strategy, and I sincerely hope that it pays off as expected. That said, what attracts me personally to this whittled-down product line is not the kitschy nostalgia-factor of a pseudo-Mentzer Red Box. It's the fact that I can buy the Red Box and three skinny paperback "core ruleboks", but I can leave "Heroes of the Forgotten Kingdoms" off of my shopping list. I never have to see a single tiefling or dragonborn in a rulebook that my players will have at the game table. Believe it or not, this is of tremendous importance to my perception of the game. It implies a set of game rules that supports a style of fantasy I like and want to play with (namely the Tolkien-esque, i.e. a "points of light" world with only a tiny handful of common races allowed to the PCs, those being humans, dwarves, halflings, and elves of both the Elrondy and Legoalsy variety).
As it turns out, a return to the classic feel of D&D (even if it's really only a superficial acknowledgment of that Hobbity fluff) is all the incentive I need to give 4th edition's crunch a try. I have very few problems with the actual rules of 4th edition. Indeed, what issues I do have can all be lumped under the general heading of "complexity trumping flexibility", which is the exact same problem I had with 3rd edition and the very reason I abandoned it for the TSR rules of auld lang syne.
The real question, then, is this: what level of complexity will we see in the Red Box? Complexity comes in two main forms: combat rules (which I don't mind so much, because I love me some tactical minis battles) and character creation (which I detest, because I don't think that every little facet of a player character should be reflected in a game mechanic). 4th edition (rather like 2nd edition) made some headway in backpedaling from the "rule for every scenario" mentality of the 1st and 3rd editions. The fact of the matter is, it may just turn out that AD&D editions are like Trek movies: the even-numbered ones don't suck. But I'll reserve judgment on that until I actually run a campaign.
But it's still so different from what I instinctively recognize as D&D that it might as well have been written in Ancient Greek. Why didn't I buy a set of core rulebooks that day, to give 4th edition its fair hearing and try it out with my friends? Frankly, it was the very back of the PHB that put the final nail in that coffin. As soon as I saw the character sheet, I felt my gorge rise up into my throat. When the character sheet says, "you're going to need to hire H&R Block to manage this for you," it turns me right off.
Without another thought, I returned the book to the shelf and went right back to daydreaming about how my next Mentzer or OD&D campaign would unfold (as has been my habit since probably 2005). But, sometime later, I did come to realize that there was something off-putting about my knee-jerk reaction to the 4th edition rulebooks. I became aware of a duality in the dislike that many self-described grognards and card-carrying members of the Old School Renaissance (including yours truly) have for this brand-new game that sports the D&D label slapped onto the cover of every one of its rulebooks.
4th edition turned off so many old-timers and produced so much vitriol because it made sweeping changes to both the fluff and the crunch.
I don't know whether this point has been remarked on before, but I've only just noticed it myself, so bear with me. We all know that the 2nd and 3rd editions of (A)D&D created their own little uproars, the standard reactionary resistance to change that we've since come to expect and now take with a grain of salt. (In fact, the grain is probably bigger than Egon Spengler's hypothetical Twinkie.) But 4th edition seems to have met a kind of critical mass, where a significant number of people can claim without irony that it simply "isn't D&D anymore". There are significant changes to the crunch: powers for fighters, no more nine levels of fire-and-forget spells, healing surges, just to name a few of the outstanding ones. There are significant changes to the fluff: weird races and classes, right there in the core rules, that remind us more of modern video games than JRR Tolkien.
(This isn't to make a value judgment about the new fluff, since it is indeed an inclusive broadening of fantasy styles, now better apt than ever before of simultaneously handling low fantasy, high fantasy, pulp, and wahoo. But I came to D&D as a fan of Tolkien, and my expectations and preconceptions have always leaned in that direction. Should the day ever come when halflings are excised from the core rules, it really really will not be D&D anymore.)
The combination is, for some, essentially unforgivable. But I think the new D&D Essentials line might just make considerable headway in bridging the conceptual gap that separates us old-timers from the new brand of "standard D&D fluff".
For those of you yet unaware, D&D Essentials is a new line of products scheduled for release by WotC, which includes a new Red Box (introducing players to the game and covering fighters, wizards, clerics, and rogues, of the human, halfling, dwarvish, and elvish persuasions, up to 3rd level); two Player's Essentials books, one of which ("Fallen Lands") covers the classic races and classes, plus rangers and eladrin; with the other ("Forgotten Kingdoms") focusing on the new races and traditional "sub" classes (paladin, druid, warlock, etc.); and then a DM's Kit and Monster Vault.
Now, all of these products taken together seem to be a great way to introduce new players to 4th edition D&D. Kudos to WotC, as this is a brilliant marketing strategy, and I sincerely hope that it pays off as expected. That said, what attracts me personally to this whittled-down product line is not the kitschy nostalgia-factor of a pseudo-Mentzer Red Box. It's the fact that I can buy the Red Box and three skinny paperback "core ruleboks", but I can leave "Heroes of the Forgotten Kingdoms" off of my shopping list. I never have to see a single tiefling or dragonborn in a rulebook that my players will have at the game table. Believe it or not, this is of tremendous importance to my perception of the game. It implies a set of game rules that supports a style of fantasy I like and want to play with (namely the Tolkien-esque, i.e. a "points of light" world with only a tiny handful of common races allowed to the PCs, those being humans, dwarves, halflings, and elves of both the Elrondy and Legoalsy variety).
As it turns out, a return to the classic feel of D&D (even if it's really only a superficial acknowledgment of that Hobbity fluff) is all the incentive I need to give 4th edition's crunch a try. I have very few problems with the actual rules of 4th edition. Indeed, what issues I do have can all be lumped under the general heading of "complexity trumping flexibility", which is the exact same problem I had with 3rd edition and the very reason I abandoned it for the TSR rules of auld lang syne.
The real question, then, is this: what level of complexity will we see in the Red Box? Complexity comes in two main forms: combat rules (which I don't mind so much, because I love me some tactical minis battles) and character creation (which I detest, because I don't think that every little facet of a player character should be reflected in a game mechanic). 4th edition (rather like 2nd edition) made some headway in backpedaling from the "rule for every scenario" mentality of the 1st and 3rd editions. The fact of the matter is, it may just turn out that AD&D editions are like Trek movies: the even-numbered ones don't suck. But I'll reserve judgment on that until I actually run a campaign.