"Stumbling Around in My Head" - The Feeling of Dissociation as a Player

[Argyle King]

The problem is, and this seems to be especially a problem with D&D, is that "common sense" is not common. Does a fireball suck all the oxygen out of an area if cast underground? It says it melts metals; how hot does it leave them? Instantaneously heating a metal to its melting point and reducing it to below that would have no effect, so it's got to be hot for a while. So our swords that were in the range of a fireball should be superheated and do extra damage when we hit now, right? (That makes perfect sense, but it's the type of common sense DMs hate. The turn-around, that the weapons are too hot to hold, doesn't help the DM, as then monsters will be forced to drop their weapons with a fireball.)

I don't know how I feel about a suddenly appearing can't trip oozes rule. I do know that "common sense" rulings like that tend to annoy the heck out of me as a player, because they suddenly change the world my character was living in and planning in, and in practice on the fly common sense rulings don't seem to make things make more sense.

You want common sense in D&D, you can play E6 or something similar. You can't be hostage to stupidly literal readings, but a lot of the rules in D&D are written to be gameable, not simulations.

I think part of the problem is focusing on how D&D explains (or doesn't) those things.

Personally, I like the fact that some of the games I play try to have a little bit of 'common sense' in the rules. For example, in GURPS, metal armor isn't very effective against the lightning bolt spell. It's a small detail, but one I like, and it adds to the game experience for me.

I see a lot of comments in this discussion which bring up D&D 4E and tactics. I've had a lot of fun with 4E, but I find it strange that people view it as a 'tactical' game. Barely any of the 'tactics' I use when playing my 4E characters are tactics I would expect to use in combat and hope to survive; I've stated elsewhere that I feel 4E rewards using tactics which I feel would be bad tactics during a combat. (...and, yes, to answer the inevitable question, I have been in combat.)

I completely agree that fantasy is not the same as reality. However, I see no reason why that means there cannot be some manner of ballpark baseline for how things work that makes sense. When an epic tier ooze in D&D 4E has a high charisma score, what does that really mean beyond the level of the creature saying it should have that score? I think that is where I find disassociation... the way the game is described and portrayed really has no meaning to me beyond the way the metagame parts of the system categorize things.

As far as the narrative goes, I also don't understand the idea that simulation somehow kills the narrative. Back on page one there was an example given about a mech game with lasers doing damage... rerouting power; etc. Maybe I'm wrong, but it seems to me that was more-or-less what drove the narrative for a lot of Star Trek episodes; the crew struggling to hold the ship together and rerouting power. Also, for me, the story of someone like Audie Murphy is far more interesting than any DBZ episode I've ever watched.

I have a hard time separating "sim" and "narrative" in these discussions because -for me- I often view them as being the same thing. The sim is the means through which I create the narrative.

 

[S'mon]

I'm the guy who said that GM's who can't handle these kinds of questions when they come up by making a ruling are too hapless to successfully run a game.

There have been several posters on this thread objecting to the idea that the GM should apply common sense to the Trip rules or other mechanics. Hopefully you see the problem now. It can be impossible to satisfy both
A) demands that events make sense in-world, and
B) demands that rules be applied as written so as not to nerf PC abilities.

 

[pemerton]

"Disassociated" mechanics, on the other hand, dispense with the notion that the form or process of resolution are more important than the mechanical result. It doesn't matter how it happens, but by golly, foe X has to shift two spaces and become fatigued.

I don't agree with the "it doesn't mater how it happens". That may not matter to resolution (but it may - the very essence of an RPG is that some bit of narration introduced only for colour is liable to getting picked up on by someone else as an anchor for action resolution), but it may matter to other important aspects of the game (eg the fictional stakes, and how they are unfolding in the situation at hand).

EDIT: The tone of this I think is coming of as more combative than I wanted it to - I'm not contesting your account of your play experiences, I'm just trying to pick up on other ways in which I have found that things can matter.

I've had a lot of fun with 4E, but I find it strange that people view it as a 'tactical' game. Barely any of the 'tactics' I use when playing my 4E characters are tactics I would expect to use in combat and hope to survive

I think of it as tactical in the sense that (i) position and movement matter, (ii) it provides players with the resources to make and implement choices around position and movement, and (iii) it has resolution mechanics that permit this stuff to be resolved without the GM having to take too much responsibility for whether or not the players' choices will be mechanically effective.

The rationality of those choices from a real-world perspective isn't something I analyse too closely (I'm not and never have been a real-world combatant). For me, it's more the drama of PCs engaging and disengaging, the sorcerer teleporting around the battlefield, the fighter using Mighty Sprint to hurl himself into the fray and rescue his friends, etc.

On other threads I've given some examples of recent encounters that I've run, where movement and position mattered. In Rolemaster, or classic D&D, I never got that degree of "tactical" element - ie movement, position and terrain contributing to dramatic depth - because the mechanics to support it, on either GM or player side, simply weren't there. The most sophisticated stuff that I ran was fights in waste-deep water, or on uneven terrain, or at the top of stairways. But I never had beholders TKing PCs on the edge of 200' underground drop-offs, PCs discovering ropers when they look for cover behind stalagmites, or fights in giant caverns with lava, a heated underground river, and three other terrain types (solid rock, cooling lava, and a safe ledge on the other side of the river) all present, and all mattering to action resolution (plus toxic fumes from the molten rock, and steam from the river providing obscurement between those on the ledge and the rest of the cavern).

This is the sort of dramatic situation into which I find 4e's mechanics - including its "tactical" (ie movement/terrain/position) mechanics - facilitate immersion.

 

[S'mon]

I see a lot of comments in this discussion which bring up D&D 4E and tactics. I've had a lot of fun with 4E, but I find it strange that people view it as a 'tactical' game. Barely any of the 'tactics' I use when playing my 4E characters are tactics I would expect to use in combat and hope to survive; I've stated elsewhere that I feel 4E rewards using tactics which I feel would be bad tactics during a combat. (...and, yes, to answer the inevitable question, I have been in combat.)

4e combat is tactical within 4e rules. As you say, the tactics it tends to promote tend to be the opposite of what you would actually want to do in a similar situation IRL. For instance, in 4e I may want my Fighter to be surrounded by enemies, IRL I would want the opposite.

I definitely find games that promote more realistic tactics to be more immersive. A combat system that encourages me to defend a choke point is generally more immersive than one that encourages me to surround myself with attackers. The latter can still be fun in a 'Hollywood action movie' sense though, and it may create a more dramatic narrative.

I'm not sure overall which approach I find more fun; I enjoy both sorts of game.

 

[pemerton]

4e combat is tactical within 4e rules. As you say, the tactics it tends to promote tend to be the opposite of what you would actually want to do in a similar situation IRL. For instance, in 4e I may want my Fighter to be surrounded by enemies, IRL I would want the opposite.

I definitely find games that promote more realistic tactics to be more immersive. A combat system that encourages me to defend a choke point is generally more immersive than one that encourages me to surround myself with attackers. The latter can still be fun in a 'Hollywood action movie' sense though, and it may create a more dramatic narrative.

I'm not sure overall which approach I find more fun; I enjoy both sorts of game.

I agree with you about the tactics that 4e promotes. I certainly enjoy that sort of dramatic narrative; I don't know if I also prefer it.

I will add one qualification to my agreement, though: the encouraged tactics have changed a bit with the PCs levelling up. At lower levels, when they had fewer tricks up their sleeves, holding choke points and similar defensive positions was more often a desirable option. In that sense, I feel there's been a development of the PCs, even though at the most basic level the maths has remained pretty constant (given the level scaling).

 

[tomBitonti]

Personally, I like the fact that some of the games I play try to have a little bit of 'common sense' in the rules. For example, in GURPS, metal armor isn't very effective against the lightning bolt spell. It's a small detail, but one I like, and it adds to the game experience for me.

Which is perhaps wrong. Wouldn't metal armor tend to conduct charge away from someone? That is, charge trying to cross a person's body would much rather follow a metal band than go through the relatively non-conductive flesh and bone inside.

Ever since first edition "wearing metal" has (by common sense?) equated to "more vulnerable to electricity" based on the simple statement "metal conducts well". Hard for me to say one way or another, but I'm wondering if the "common sense" here is just wrong.

(On the other hand, having all that metal means the charge will definitely travel very close to you, whereas otherwise it might have chosen to arc preferentially through something more at a distance.)

(In any case, the example of a "lightning bolt" is a bit odd, compared to, say, a "fire bolt". I can imagine a burst of flame as being a fire bolt, and that that could be directed the way a stream of water is directed. But for lightning, you need to lay out a conductive path: Electricity follows the path of least resistance with fixed rules. You can't project it like a stream of water from a hose, you have to "lead it by the nose" by creating a path for it.)

Thx!

TomB

 

[Argyle King]

I think of it as tactical in the sense that (i) position and movement matter, (ii) it provides players with the resources to make and implement choices around position and movement, and (iii) it has resolution mechanics that permit this stuff to be resolved without the GM having to take too much responsibility for whether or not the players' choices will be mechanically effective.

The rationality of those choices from a real-world perspective isn't something I analyse too closely (I'm not and never have been a real-world combatant). For me, it's more the drama of PCs engaging and disengaging, the sorcerer teleporting around the battlefield, the fighter using Mighty Sprint to hurl himself into the fray and rescue his friends, etc.

On other threads I've given some examples of recent encounters that I've run, where movement and position mattered. In Rolemaster, or classic D&D, I never got that degree of "tactical" element - ie movement, position and terrain contributing to dramatic depth - because the mechanics to support it, on either GM or player side, simply weren't there. The most sophisticated stuff that I ran was fights in waste-deep water, or on uneven terrain, or at the top of stairways. But I never had beholders TKing PCs on the edge of 200' underground drop-offs, PCs discovering ropers when they look for cover behind stalagmites, or fights in giant caverns with lava, a heated underground river, and three other terrain types (solid rock, cooling lava, and a safe ledge on the other side of the river) all present, and all mattering to action resolution (plus toxic fumes from the molten rock, and steam from the river providing obscurement between those on the ledge and the rest of the cavern).

This is the sort of dramatic situation into which I find 4e's mechanics - including its "tactical" (ie movement/terrain/position) mechanics - facilitate immersion.

I don't scrutinize the rationality of the choices too much either. Many of them are so obviously irrational that they tend to stick out.

I find those encounter ideas to be pretty cool, but -for me- their portrayal in 4E is more of an issue of that's what the game says I should be doing at that level more so than it is immersive or an encouragement of drama. I find the movement and such to be enjoyable -at least more enjoyable than the alternative of not having such things, but that is because the structure of the game is built in such a way that I cannot make other tactically satisfying decisions that I would want to make without having powers which allow me to do so. Some tactics/strategy I'd use wouldn't have any meaning in the game because the game world is build in such a way that they aren't legitimate concerns or even possible in some cases, so, yeah, I'll take the 4E approach during a 4E game over the alternative of not having those options at all.

One thing I also find strange is that there seems to be an implication (not necessarily by Pem) that abstract mechanics somehow promote drama via genre tropes or something similar. I do not find a problem with that except for that there also seems to be an implication that less abstract mechanics necessarily get in the way of drama. I mentioned Audie Murphy earlier; personally, I find the idea of one guy making a stand against a German platoon to be pretty dramatic; even more so since he didn't have a super power or a genre appropriate trick up his sleeve to guarantee his success. I find that dramatic. I also find it to be a very interesting story and narrative.

I'm not completely against abstractions. I'm willing to accept a lot of them. I'm also willing to accept some amount of disassociation. However, I have a limit that I'm generally comfortable with. Also, I feel that in action movies, rpgs, and similar stories that highlighting realism can actually be used to enhance the fantasy. Fantasy and realism need not be at odds; I'm most satisfied when the two are blended together in a way which allows me to engage my desire to imagine, game, and escape the real world.

The last thing I mentioned there -escape- is an interesting case. I want that ability to escape from reality, but there needs to be a touch of realism or else my mind has a hard time accepting the fantasy, and my ability escape is hindered. Strange I think; that I need a little reality to be able to escape reality, but that is how it works for me.

 

[Neonchameleon]

There have been several posters on this thread objecting to the idea that the GM should apply common sense to the Trip rules or other mechanics. Hopefully you see the problem now. It can be impossible to satisfy both
A) demands that events make sense in-world, and
B) demands that rules be applied as written so as not to nerf PC abilities.

This is a massive misrepresentation of the other side of the thread to you. The argument being made is that common sense isn't and fighters are competent to handle a range of fantasy creatures rather than practice exclusively against humanoids. Therefore their abilities should be handled on a "Say yes unless you have a damn good reason."

And we go right back to brass tacks and find out where the problem is. I consider the game rules a reflection of the real world situation and techniques.

And what does the fighter do when he wants to trip? He uses the momentum and balance of his opponent, and force at the right time to disrupt them and send them where they don't want to go. The most common case of the outcome of this is the target being sent to one knee or onto the ground. Which fits the prone condition. The core question for any given monster is whether simmilar approaches will work. Is it possible to use timing, positioning and leverage to unbalance them?

With a snake IMO the answer is a resounding "yes". If it's a cobra, the thing rears to strike anyway. Shifting the pivot when it rears is tripping even by a narrow definition and will disrupt it and with luck send the thing toppling over sideways.

With a snake lying on the ground the story is different. But can you use timing, positioning, and leverage to unbalance them? Sure you can. You convince them to roll over your stick, shield, or chain, then use the leverage you have to flick or force the head back onto itself, exposing its underbelly and leaving it facing the wrong way. Timing, positioning, and leverage. The same approach as used to trip someone.

Or do you really think that trips all need to be ankle sweeps and because you are talking about a power called trip you can't use a judo-style throw? Because to me that's what the narrow interpretation that says you can't trip a snake implies. Trips are all sweeps to the ankle and never throws simply because the name says "trip". And they all knock people down on their face and never on their back simply because it says prone and not supine.

So I think I've covered why being unable to trip a snake means that the fighter is spectacularly limited in a diverse fantasy setting. And that for all 3e's range of options there are no judo throws if this is true.

Now oozes. This boils down to the question of what an ooze is. Using the 3.5 SRD we know that oozes are six inches to two feet thick (other than the cube), and they can create pseudopods or slam with their bodies. If they are six inches thick or more they have at worst an incredibly high surface tension. And if they intentionally slam then they have a direction at any given time. Which gives them a front edge, all held together. Timing and momentum and either an acid immunity an absolute willingness to sacrifice your equipment can take this front edge and throw it back into the main body of the ooze so either the ooze can disentangle itself or it can absorb the old front edge and make a new one, both of which take time and focus.

What oozes are not are things that flow near-placidly across the floor, seemingly going for nothing and with a comparatively low surface tension, and just flowing round and dissolving things. If it makes pseudopods and slam attacks it has a local front and can be thrown back against its direction. Which even the Gelatinous Cube does.

The point here is that your common sense does not match mine. I consider trip to be called trip because that is the most common expression of what the fighter is doing. Which is not the equivalent of "Mashing the A button" as making every trip an ankle-sweep would be. It's using their skills to exploit when the target is going to have its balance change to disrupt that foe. If trip is the rule you use for a judo throw (as IME it is) then you can trip a snake or an ooze as trip isn't limited to literal trips. If there are no rules for a judo throw then fighters are ridiculously limited, and massively inferior to even real world fighters.

I therefore deny your claim that common sense has anything to do with this. Because the sense of what happens is not common.

4e combat is tactical within 4e rules. As you say, the tactics it tends to promote tend to be the opposite of what you would actually want to do in a similar situation IRL. For instance, in 4e I may want my Fighter to be surrounded by enemies, IRL I would want the opposite.

I definitely find games that promote more realistic tactics to be more immersive. A combat system that encourages me to defend a choke point is generally more immersive than one that encourages me to surround myself with attackers. The latter can still be fun in a 'Hollywood action movie' sense though, and it may create a more dramatic narrative.

4e basically starts with the idea that "We have a world where the tactics as seen e.g. in Xena or in 300 make sense". And then takes its world from there. I don't consider this notably less immersive than I do WFRP or GURPS - you just have to go with the world. And it provides a lot of world building to this effect.

 

[S'mon]

4e basically starts with the idea that "We have a world where the tactics as seen e.g. in Xena or in 300 make sense". And then takes its world from there. I don't consider this notably less immersive than I do WFRP or GURPS - you just have to go with the world. And it provides a lot of world building to this effect.

I agree with you about 4e emulating Xena and 300. However, while I generally enjoy both of those, occasionally stuff happens in both (esp Xena, at least after the first season), 'WTF?' moments. that do jar my Suspension of Disbelief. I don't buy into the silliness, and so my enjoyment is lessened. I had the same problem watching 'Expendables 2' recently.

It tends not to be 'power' stuff, though. The one that really stuck with me was Xena defeating the Persian invasion of Greece by defending a barn, and killing every Persian who went in the barn. I could accept for the sake of the show that Xena could kill dozens of very Kiwi-looking Persians. But I couldn't get past "Why don't they set fire to the barn?"

 

[GreyICE]

That's actually a great example of simulationist versus narrativist.

D&D 3E simulates fire. It does 1d6 damage a round, reflex to negate. Potentially lethal to level 1 characters. At level 12 or so when you have some fire resist, laughable. If we assume Xena is a ~level 15 Warblade then she's got just about nothing to fear from nonmagical fire.

D&D 4E lets you set narrative damage for fire. Want people to be panicking? Go to page 42 chart, pick a moderate or high damage type, make that the environmental damage for being in the firefield.

One tries to simulate fire. One gives you the tools to make a narrative of fighting in a burning building.