I’ve talked before about the peculiar penchant for 4th Edition’s designers to “fix” a “problem” by either (a) making it worse or (b) not fixing it at all. Mike Mearls is talking about a similar “solution” that didn’t actually get implemented for 4th Edition, but demonstrates the same inability to solve a problem even when you’re explicitly trying to solve it: I Hate Resistances.

You can click through and read his entire blog entry, but allow me to sum up. Mearls has two problems with resistances, both of which stem from the fact that you’re better off NOT dealing cold damage to a creature with resistance to cold damage:

(1) It creates a value disparity between energy types if the DM predominantly uses creatures with one particular resistance type. (For example, if there are lots of creatures with resistance to cold damage, then cold-based spells are devalued compared to other energy types.)

(2) It means that if you’re a in a cold-dominated setting (with lots of cold-based creatures with resistance to cold damage), then you’re better off NOT playing an ice mage (since you’ll have a bunch of cold-based spells). Mearls finds this thematically inconsistent because he wants his Frozen North populated with ice mages and his Sultry South populated with fire mages.

These are both absolutely true. (Although I’ll delve into the aesthetic sense of the latter a little later.)

Mearls then proposes two “solutions”:

(1) Instead of resistances, creatures would get abilities that would allow them to negate damage from energy attacks of a particular type. Basically these are still resistances, but you can only use them against X number of attacks per encounter or per day.

(2) Instead of resistant damage, creatures would get bonus abilities when hit with sympathetic energy types. For example, a cold-based creature hit with cold damage might get an extra breath weapon attack or a bonus to AC.

The problem? Neither of these does anything to solve the problems Mearls claims to be solving.

WHAT PART OF THE WORD “FIX” DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND?

Here’s the root of the issue: The problems Mearls cites are emergent behaviors based on the fact that a cold-based creature benefits from being targeted by cold-based damage (even if that benefit is nothing more than “I take less damage than if you’d hit me with something else”). Because the cold-based creature benefits from cold-based damage, you’re making it advantageous to use non-cold-based damage on them.

Mearls’ “solutions”, of course, still benefit cold-based creatures targeted by cold-based attacks. And, as a result, the exact same emergent behavior results: You’re better off using non-cold-based damage against cold-based creatures.

However, with that being said, I will point out that both of the mechanics Mearls proposes are, in fact, interesting mechanics. I can imagine a lot of interesting uses for them: A membraneous horror that reflects sonic attacks. A fire-infused demon that absorbs ambient flame, concentrates it in their translucent-skinned stomach, and belches it forth. A frost-born behemoth that armors itself with living ice.

They just don’t do what Mearls claims they do.

ICE MAGES IN THE FROZEN NORTH

I can also understand the thematic interest Mearls has in having ice mages rearing crystalline towers in the Frozen North and fire mages dancing on volcano rims in the Sultry South.

But if that’s your goal, then you need to explain why wizards in the Frozen North would tend to prefer ice-based magic. I would suggest creating a system where extreme environmental conditions encourage the use of sympathetic magic types. (In other words, if you’re on a glacier it’s either easier to use your ice magic or your ice magic is more powerful or both. Similarly, volcanoes are great places for fire magic. And you can strengthen this association if you impose penalties at the opposite extreme — casting ice-based magic is more difficult near volcanoes; casting fire-based magic is more difficult on a glacier.)

Without that kind of sympathetic encouragement, it will never make much sense for wizards in the Frozen North to specialize in ice magic — for much the same reason that it doesn’t make much sense to turn your air conditioner on in the middle of winter.

I’ve spent the past our or so browsing through Traps & Treachery, Grimtooth’s Traps, and the Book of Challenges for inspiration in designing a trap-laden dungeon of doom.

While reading the last of these, a supplement published by WotC during the early days of 3rd Edition, I was struck by the following piece of advice for the neophyte DM:

Make Them Dig Deep: In a lair of cold creatures, only the sorcerers will be able to muster enough fire spells to win. Using many of the same type of creatures drains a subset of the party’s resources while never tapping into another subset. The heroes need to ration resources, and that benefits those on the receiving end of the PCs’ wrath.

This advice is not given as a “one true way” of doing things. It’s instead offered on a platter of several different ways of mixing things up and structuring encounters and adventures in way that makes things just a little bit tougher for the PCs than they would normally be.

But if you’re ever looking for a concrete example of the difference between the design ethos of 3rd Edition and the design ethos of 4th Edition, that quote isn’t a bad place to start. Because any 4th Edition designer would consider that quote to be anathema: It violates two of the core principles of 4th Edition gaming (“all characters should participate in all encounters” and “strategic resource management is bad”).

A couple of days ago I mentioned in the comments that, in my opinion, “the narrow range of options that results from this design ethos is bland and boring”. It was particularly because that comment was fresh in my mind that this quote jumped out at me while I was reading. It’s a perfect example of the type of gameplay that was unceremoniously stripped out of 4th Edition.

Man in Black: You’re amazing.
Inigo Montoya: I ought to be after twenty years.
Man in Black: There’s something I ought to tell you…
Inigo Montoya: What?
Man in Black: I’m not left-handed either.

The Man in Black switches his sword hand. The duel continues.

Inigo Montoya: Who are you?
Man in Black: No one of consequence.
Inigo Montoya: I must know.
Man in Black: Get used to disappointment.
Inigo Montoya: ‘kay.

The duel continues. The Man in Black disarms Inigo Montoya.

Inigo Montoya: Kill me quickly.
Man in Black: I would as soon destroy a stained glass window as an artist like yourself… However, since I can’t have you following me… and the rules here say that I can’t knock you out for more than 5 minutes…

The Man in Black slits Inigo Montoya’s throat.

CONTEXT FROM THE GAME TABLE

This is not as entirely random as it might appear at first glance. Yesterday one of the groups I was playtesting Keep on the Shadowfell with managed to get back together following an interminable three months of mutually incompatible schedules. And this actually happened at the gaming table.

Well, not with Inigo Montoya and the Man in Black, obviously. But the PCs had forced a goblin to surrender by making an Intimidate check, tied him up, and questioned him. Once they had gotten all the information they needed from him, the group fell into a debate about what to do with him. (“You said you were going to let me go!” “Shut up. We’re talking here.”) Half the group wanted to just knock him out and show him some mercy. The other half wanted to make sure there wasn’t any chance of him coming back to cause them any problems.

The debate was resolved when we checked the rulebook and discovered that, in the Land of 4th Edition, anyone who has been knocked unconscious wakes up after taking a short rest. A short rest is 5 minutes. Ergo, they couldn’t knock the goblin out for more than 5 minutes.

And so they slit his throat and headed for the Keep.

Poor little guy. If it had been 3rd Edition he probably would have woken up a few hours later with a headache and skedaddled back to his homelands in the Stonemarches.

While putting together the compiled version of the Playtesting 4th Edition essay, I realized it probably made sense to compile the essays I wrote on Dissociated Mechanics, too. So I went ahead and did that.

As a reminder, these essays were originally written in May of this year, before the 4th Edition rulebooks were released. My general analysis, it turned out, was pretty much right on the money, even if there are a few individual mechanics which aren’t precisely the way they were previewed or the way I assumed in the final product.

And, of course, my general conclusion vis-a-vis dissociated mechanics (they’re bad and they’re antithetical to roleplaying) remain as valid as they ever were.

The complete set of Playtesting 4th Edition posts have been compiled into a single essay for easy reference and linkage. This pretty much constitutes my definitive statement on the system. I have a couple more sessions of Keep on the Shadowfell to play through with one of my groups and, if anything of note comes up during those sessions, I may post a coda of some sort.

But both of my gaming groups have decided to return to 3rd Edition and stay there. And, at this point, I don’t anticipate that I will ever be returning to 4th Edition. The game is, in the final analysis, not only poorly designed, but designed specifically with a philosophy which is antithetical to my roleplaying.

Other people may find enough interest in the game to spend the time necessary to fix the fundamental design flaws, but I don’t see any reason to waste my time with it.

(Oh, look! WotC just changed the DCs for skill checks again. I’m so glad they took such great pride in fixing the math with 4th Edition…. and fixing it… and fixing it… and fixing it… They’re like the Energizer Bunny of math fixing.)