Press The Beast

Facilitating Fiendish Fights

Hark! Who comes this way? Oh, what ho? You wish to run prospective dungeoneers through simulated gauntlets: dungeon games which challenge their wits, fortune and daring to prepare them for the real thing, dire beyond measure? Well you should have said something, squire! I take it you’ve read the widely acclaimed—yet not quite award worthy—YE COMPLEAT MANUAL OF UNMANNERLY FIGHTING? All the principles therein apply: use them well. Any monster worth its salt knows how to think like a warrior, what ho!

Let us assume you, squire, are refereeing your dungeon game with that most ancient and esteemed family of games: OD&D, B/X, or any myriad of clones—ever proliferating where it makes me itch most. However! While the advice in this guide will help with the use of any tools for adjudication it will be helpful to use such systems as a baseline: a lingua franca if you will. You must be familiar with the age-old Armour Class, the dreaded Encounter Roll, Rounds, Turns, Initiative Rolls, and the rest of that rigamarole to make best use of this guide.

No more prelude: your tutelage begins squire! Study hard—let not those adventurers who brave your dungeons forget their fear of things that lurk beyond palest nightmare.


TACTICS AND STRATEGY:

Simple definitions will do. Tactics are about the decisions made during a given fight. Do not fret about individual powers—interest does not arise from moving (x) monster (y) spaces. Rather: think in terms of space and allocation of men. Who takes the frontline, and why? Where do we choose to engage our foes and why? How do we take advantage of enemy formation or abilities? How do we best limit risk and reduce attrition? These sorts of questions are the ones you want players to be asking themselves as they engage varied foes in ever changing locations

Strategy is farther ranging: we shall limit our scope to the dungeon, though this includes broader campaign scenarios. In this case we shall focus on attrition as the key factor. Adventurers will lose HP, items, spells, etc. As they encounter monsters they are ground down: they will grow desperate. Wizards will take the front while injured Warriors coward behind, prodding with spear. For each encounter bear this in mind: dungeon combat is interesting in the aggregate. Individual battles are given their weight because of strategic considerations; tactics change to accommodate developing strategic concerns.

To facilitate this focus on tactics and enable strategy to come into play within a single session of 2-3 hours, focus on abstraction and speed over detailed fidelity. Only zoom into close details where needed. My comrade Jenx has spilled ink on this and related issues before: “Boring” Combat is Fine Actually.

PLAYER DISCIPLINE AND ADJUDICATION HYGIENE:

To facilitate this interplay of strategy and tactics the referee must be able to process five or six combat per session alongside ample exploration. One must referee at the pace of the panther, as fit to amble on branch as it is to stalk the e’er-long savannah. Combat is complex: changes occur from round to round and if they aren’t processed smoothly the thrill of battle is lost. This is the most important thing to running successful combats! I hesitate to overstate my case, yet it may well be the main difference between a good dungeon campaign and a great one. It is also partly out of your hands. Players, ever the dastards, are essential pieces when it comes to processing rounds.

It is for this reason that old school systems are effective for this style of play: player characters have limited formalized actions and, most of the time, the best option is to simply attack—see the linked article from Jenx. The important thing is that they can perform all the steps needed to resolve their action expediently. To that end Armor Class or any other target number should be told in advance. Players who do not know how to, say, process an attack on their own should be punished appropriately if they still have not learned after a session or two—be severe, what ho!

Let players talk—within reason. Whilst they talk tactics you can handle any administrative duties; I generally tune out almost completely while players talk while I update monster HP numbers, confirm enemy position, confirm their next actions, check relevant dungeon keys, review the environment, etc. Once I am done everything on my end I ask players to confirm their actions and will pressure them to move quickly. More complex battles usually take more time for the referee to process; those same battles take the players more time to plan for. Take advantage of this to keep things moving at a seamless pace.

When players are overthinking a simple problem, tell them. Say two Warriors in chain armour are accosted by three Skeletons: the best option overwhelmingly is to simply attack and kill them. This sort of battle only becomes interesting if, say, the Warriors are teetering at the edge of a pit that drops stark into a spiked man-grinder, or if they are already wounded from doing battle against a vile Ogre. Unless it works with the rhythm of the session and all are jolly, gently remind them not to worry about disarms or other fancy flourishes where they serve no end.

In cases where the party has an overwhelming advantage then feel free to end the battle quickly. Three rounds acts as my typical timer. If there are no more interesting decisions to be made after three rounds and the player’s have a clear advantage then just end the fight. Many dungeon battles play out solely to apply attrition; time spent on them is an investment for interesting conflicts to play out in the future. Those one to three rounds give even outnumbered weak Goblins a chance to land a blow which may pay dividends when the Goblin King comes calling. Where there is a doubt, however, let the battle play out. Remember, too, the value of morale checks. But resist the urge to make enemies constantly retreat, try to follow the morale check. Monsters love fighting to the death, it's in their culture.

There are many small tricks for speeding combat such as using average HP rather than rolled totals, or simplifying initiative. These will be discussed later but are ultimately less influential than processing time. Players and ref alike must be able to get through their rounds with a high degree of proficiency: as a mighty swordsman cuts down their foes, what ho!

THE CLASHING OF RANKS:

Battles play out in the exciting world of imagination. Its boundless potential is exactly what attracts us to these dark and dangerous dungeon worlds and yet, this world must be anchored—it begs to be made tangible, tasted. For the purpose of anchoring our combatants in the fiction I think first in terms of Units, Ranks, Battle Lines, and Zones. These terms are all used as an aid to adjudication, not as hard or fast mechanics. They must serve as guides, not task-masters.

A Unit is a collection of combatants all vaguely positioned together: I will typically have AoE attacks like a dragon’s breath hit a single Unit. Note that a lone figure makes its own Unit. Ranks describe the location of a given figure within a Unit. I break this down into vanguard, rearguard, and middle. A Battle Line forms when two Units meet: those in the front Ranks will clash in a melee. Units and Battle Lines are the main considerations I use when adjudicating movement, not Zones—movement matters only because of the relative space between combatants, it is more a measure of time than space in battles of imagination. Thus, movement occurs between Ranks (Say, cycling an injured Warrior for a Spearman in the middle Rank) or Units (Moving to engage an approaching Unit of Orcs), or Battle Lines (Rushing from one engagement to another).

All of these exist within Zones. This is basically a misnomer, carried over from my time running FATE. My concern is not with the space itself but any special features of the geography. Thick mud, large rocks, doors, crossroads, and more are relevant features. Using natural language, player and referee both will use these features to organize themselves: “The Orcs position themselves at the elbow of the hallway and slowly advance on your position.” In this way features become Zones of battle, hence my use of the misnomer.

Here is how I use some of these concepts in conducting battles:

The importance of clarity in the relative positioning of figures can not be overstated. This clarity is, above all else, what gives rise to interesting tactics. Without a basic understanding of space combat becomes a mass problem: one may as well play Tunnels & Trolls.

Capitalization was used to help illustrate these terms. They are no longer needed, what ho! Fend for yourself. Note, too, that I do not typically use these terms formally while running games. Use natural language, and be clear to your players.

NOTE TAKING:

Keep it simple: a notebook with a simple diagram of relative positioning is sufficient. I use the initials of monsters and adventurers, note any relevant features using simple drawings, and erase as I go.

Feel free to make players aid in processing combat. Make them track total kills for the purposes of finding XP, track enemy HP, etc. The more they take on the better.

INITIATIVE, ORDER OF ADJUDICATION, AND FLEXIBILITY:

There are as many initiative systems as there are Moons in the sky: that is, three or more. There are many opinions, articles, and screeds written on these. For the purposes of this article I will keep things simple. Each side rolls a d6 at the top of the round. Both sides move: use common sense to adjudicate who ends up where, giving the edge to the winner of initiative or the faster figure. Once movement concludes, the winning side of the roll off makes attacks and performs other actions before their antagonists. I have found that treating movement and actions as separate makes the advantage of winning initiative less overwhelming, and makes movement more tactically interesting. Both sides are forced to negotiate their movement in the fiction in generative ways.

This is a very simple form of phased initiative. More complex phased initiative that specifies when, say, melee or missiles occur can also be interesting and are worth exploring. Whatever system is used be disciplined and consistent in its application, yet flexible where needed. For example, sometimes I simply have each side alternate if it would help speed resolution or, in certain very zoomed in moments, I run it like Dungeon World where I ask players to act when it makes sense in context.

SPLIT BATTLES:

When combatants are far distant then resolve rounds separately. Say, for example, Gronk of the Woods and Dwelf Lundgren are separated from the party, having barricaded themselves against a legion of small Armor Spiders in a small room whilst the party fights a giant Armor Spider in a separate hallway. Treat these as separate battles; resolve a round from one and then the other.

Where possible drive the party to split up!

ASSIGNING ATTACKS:

When groups of monsters clash against the frontline, how should attacks be assigned? Generally speaking I will either do so randomly (Simply roll a dice with numbers assigned to each member of the frontline) or evenly distribute attacks between all front liners. Over the course of a single session players may well fight 50+ monsters, this even distribution of damage is essential in enabling this. If all monsters simply target the character with the lowest HP—technically their best strategy—players will be forced to play more conservatively, and monster behaviour will become repetitive.

In general, there should be a limit to how many attacks may be landed on a single player character in a round. I think, in general, it is fair to allow four or five monsters to strike a single character in a standard battle. Some circumstances may vary this number: what size are the attacking monsters? Is the character surrounded? Are they using cover to cut off angles of attack?

Some monsters may vary this behaviour standard. For example, a Shark may smell blood and target the adventurer with the most wounds. Contrarily, a Noble Knight may prefer to fight only the strongest Warrior in the party. Likewise, some particularly small monsters may ignore the limits to the number of attackers. The dreaded Evil Fish shudders will chomp down on their prey with as many mouths as they have buddies.

SITUATIONAL BONUSES, WEAKNESSES, AND AMBUSHES:

On a d20, add at least +4 for all situational bonuses. Any less than a 20% increase in odds of success is a slap in the face to canny adventurers the world over seeking to master the environment. Monster weaknesses should be similarly awarded. An additional dice of damage is appropriate: it's okay for monster weaknesses to be centralizing as they most often belong to frightening foes like the unerring Troll. In general, lean toward being too generous rather than too stingy.

LARGE GROUPS:

Sometimes players will fight very large groups of enemies. There are some ways to simplify this. The most common case is for players to fight massive groups of foes with 1HD. In those circumstances you can use the hit numbers from Delta's Book of War in lieu of standard d20 target numbers. Throw a d6 and hit the following targets:

4 = Leather 5 = Chain 6 = Plate 7 = AC lower than 0

Convert +3 to Attack score to +1s in this system.

This comes in handy when high level Fighters are cleaving masses of foes. Instead of a sixth level Fighter throwing 6d20s and then 6 damage dice per round they may simply throw 6d6 and count each success as a kill. Once players are high enough level, say around fourth level, you may find it makes sense to use this simplified attack roll against 1HD foes in all cases.

For battles involving many with foes of more than 1HD you may do the following, in addition to all the usual suggestions:

It will rarely be needed to employ all of these at once. The only time I have had to use all of the above was a battle with over 20 figures on the player side against 10 demons, a mix of Hell Hounds and Balrogs, and 20 Demon Soldiers during a siege.

While I have experimented with grouping hordes of enemies into mobs that act as single figures on the battlefield I have not actually found this particularly useful in old school RPGs, the battles tend to move quick enough with disciplined procedures. In other systems, like FATE, that have a more difficult time handling groups it may be more useful to group enemies into single entities.

RANGED ATTACKS:

Ranged attacks! The refuge of the coward. With improper adjudication, ranged attacks can quickly come to centralize battle. Some editions of the game hardly distinguish between melee and ranged attacks; in those cases ranged attacks are always preferable.

The best way to resolve this is to use common sense: arrows cannot be fired safely into melee. I usually handle this as such: any roll that totals below 10 may hit an ally. Pick someone involved in the melee whose demise would be particularly inopportune. Roll a new attack against them, if it hits then they take damage. Big monsters, like Giants, can usually be shot at it with little risk of hitting allies.

There are many other methods, some much more detailed, used to resolve this issue. Regardless of the specific rule employed, the chance of hitting an ally changes the role of ranged attacks in battle. Rather than fire right into the melee, adventurers are encouraged to loose ranged weapons while foes are on the approach, before the clash. They are more likely to operate as skirmishers and use hit and run tactics before engaging in combat. With the simultaneous movement mentioned above, it is highly possible to kite slower opponents.

A NOTE ON MONSTER INTENT:

Clarity in monster intent is second only to clarity in relative positioning in enabling player tactics. Adventurers, simple minded beings they are, will feel geniuses when they trick the Rhinoceros into charging off a ledge! Resist the urge to, ahem, murderize the adventurers by way of your complete wisdom: the referee is all knowing, the Rhinoceros is an ignoramus.

Most monsters ought to have simple behaviours. Orcs may favour frontal attacks; Goblins enjoy hit and run tactics; Ghouls stalk their quarry until they become vulnerable such as by running into another monster group: whatever you decide be consistent within reason. Adventurers will learn and adapt.

Intent ought to be flagged with the purplest narration one can muster or, failing that, simple statements. “The Orc bares its fangs” is enough to flag aggression. If the “White Rhino smirks wryly” then the players will know something is amiss: the beast may well stop its charge short, arrange its body parallel to the pit, and dash the adventurers over the precipice as it drifts to a stop!

Flagging intent becomes most important against boss monsters and named foes. Over the course of a campaign the party will kill at least 250 Orcs, more than enough to read their behaviours. Not so for the smiling White Rhino. Once in a lifetime beasts or rival warriors are the most likely to be canny and devious—traits more dangerous by far than brawn—and this can be made clear by that narration. A skilled warrior that holds her intent close to her chest should frighten the adventurers, especially if they are used to more expressive foes.


These basics ought to apply to all conflicts and should, on their own, greatly improve your score on RateMyRef.ca. Moreso than anything else it is the basics done well that allow me to run combat effectively. From here on out, young squire, I will provide guidance of a more specific flavour: here are fruitful fruits to suckle on so that you may subject your players to such potent carousels of combat, such devilish whirlwinds of danger, they shall be calling home to their mothers—breast aflame with fear—and tell on you for your fiendish skill in creating such tantalizing illusions of battle that they felt themselves mounting Vimy Ridge, subject to the searing sting of mustard gas screaming on their skin in a high pitch wail over the never-ever-ever ending rhythm of machine-gun fire: that songless music cursed to ring eternal in their ears long after the war ends. Ahem. I forget myself.

TERRAIN FEATURES:

Here follows a list of terrain features. Employ them frequently, and invent more. When laying out dungeons it can be fruitful to include features in otherwise empty rooms.

This is but a small sampling of features. There are many, many more possible features, variations, and combinations. A whirlpool in the water, even with no other room features, could suddenly become very interesting with an encounter. Dungeon design plays a major role in the shape of battle: think in terms of macro design (How can adventurers and monsters use this dungeon as a whole?) and micro design (What interesting wrinkles are in this area of the dungeon?). Simple is best: generally stick to one or two interesting features at most per room and make sure to include basic empty rooms or your dungeon will feel too much like a toy.

Most hexmap overworlds lack explicitly keyed interesting features. Try to add one to each encounter: a network of trees with a clearing in a forest, say, or a big rock in a field. If you struggle to think of these on the fly make a d6 table of features for each major terrain type. It’s okay if it becomes repetitious: variety in monster encounter and relative starting position can create surprising variety.

Note, too, that adventurers will make features of mundane set dressing you had never expected to become relevant. Let those rapscallions into a kitchen and watch them toss fryer oil and knives; let them into a bathroom and witness them give a Goblin a swirly amidst whirling fray! Oh—what ho!—how I loathe adventurers…

VERTICALITY:

Ah! Those airy heights call to me! Oh! How I envy the windhover, who flies as a “skate's heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend.”

When designing dungeons include verticality. This can be quite simple: balconies, large rocks, climbale statues are easy to pepper about most dungeons. Whilst battling in the overworld remember hills, mountain ridges, trees, and the heights of desert dunes. Verticality pays dividends in dungeons. A single Goblin with a bow positioned on a balcony can cause utmost pain for the party tangoing with his Goblin friends below.

I highlight verticality separately from other terrain features for its value in shaping play; the more involved the verticality the better the pay off. To return to our balcony, things become more interesting if it can only be reached through climbing, or perhaps from another room. Defer entry to those vaunted heights; beguile your players through geographic trickery. You may find in play that the movement of players and monsters both are shaped by these vertical positions as they become prime defensive positions. Tactically, players will vie with foes over the highground and find any excuse they can to perform diving attacks.

To best encourage the use of verticality add bonuses for attacking at heights. +4 to attack is sufficient for ranged attacks; plunging melee attacks also add an additional dice of damage—on a miss the player takes the damage instead!

CRAWL SPACES:

Those most unholy holes… How embarrassing, to strip off your armor, drop your pack, forget your longsword, and crawl heedless into the restrictive danger of a crawl space. Such spaces are the home of monsters like Centipedes, Spiders, and Oozes who will have an overwhelming advantage. As they emerge players can be ambushed with slim prospects of an orderly retreat. Include at least one in most dungeons.

MONSTER STRENGTH:

Typically, I assign a Dungeon Level to each floor of a dungeon or region of a hexcrawl. Assume a party of however many players you expect to run the game for: assume the party is at a level equal to the Dungeon Level. The average total HD of an encounter ought to add up to about the sum of this party’s HD. Now adjust for taste. Some monsters ought to be weaker than the average, some stronger. Consider, too, any monster special abilities.

Armor Class, except for exceptionally tough foes, should not be too tough until a party is higher levelled. High amounts of HD are much easier to get through than exceptional AC.

These are guidelines only, and they are very rough on purpose. Through play you will develop an instinct for this. Attempts at very stringent encounter rankings are doomed to failure: there are too many variables in terms of party composition, level of attrition, theatre of battle, etc.

TYPES OF MONSTERS:

Ah! Here we are! No more discussion of dungeon layout. Herein lies advice on how to employ various types of monsters. Monsters bleed freely between these categories, which act more as soft guidelines than hard prescriptions. In all cases let the personality of the monsters show through. Two very similar monsters on a mechanical level come to life in very different ways in game.

The following describes categories of monster:

The following describes some approaches that monsters may take to combat:

There are many more types of monsters; some love to lay traps, there is the issue of spellcasters which vary immensely depending on magicks possessed and hold valuable treasure for the party’s magic user, there are shapeshifters which always take the form of beautiful women whom the party attacks on sight (Apologies to my wife: she was not a shapeshifter), and there are those that alter the environment itself: a monster that creates a dense fog becomes a feature in itself. Come up with them yourself!

COMPOSITION OF MONSTER PARTIES:

The above monsters become more interesting when paired together. Where it makes sense feel free to group monsters together. A low level party would have a hell of a time dealing with d4 Orcs and 1 Ogre in an encounter: perhaps more so than against 2d6 Orcs if the foes make use of their unique strengths.

Think about how the composition plays together in unique ways. A monster with a breath attack, for example, may pair well with swarmers: players could trick the swarmers into the line of the breath attack to destroy them in one fell swoop! There could be a room with a bag wielding Ogre who stuffs those paralyzed by Ghouls inside and retreats to their lair—if attacked he uses the bag as a weapon, hurting those within for damage equal to that dealt to the interlopers!

Let these compositions come to life in play and, as always, be wary to clarify monster intent so players may take on the most dastardly monster duos!

REINFORCEMENTS AND WAVES OF FOES:

Reinforcements, especially those come from another line of attack, are a great way to add tension to a fight. This sort of battle can come up when scouts belonging to a greater faction are encountered in a dungeon. The scouting group will send a body to go report to the faction’s lair. From then on, d6 or 2d6 new foes will appear until the battle is concluded (Failed morale check, retreat from either side, surrender, etc).

Apply this framework based on the context. It can be particularly interesting where boss monsters are involved; say a cult of Ghouls worships a Dragon. The party will be desperate to kill the messenger before he reaches his master!

MONSTER REACTIONS:

If your dungeon game focuses on combat then the vast majority of monsters found in dungeons ought to attack on sight. I will never include more than one ambivalent encounter on a dungeon encounter table unless there is some special purpose. With fast processing speed, these many battles—especially where few foes and simple environments are involved—will not get in the way of the exploration loop.

Should you wish to play a less violent game: so be it! But know that I judge you for it.

CHANGING DYNAMICS OF VIOLENCE:

As adventurers grow in strength the dynamics of combat will fundamentally change. Higher level characters can handle much more attrition. Keep the following in mind:

INCIDENTAL ACTION:

Most fights are incidental: a product of wandering monster checks or keyed rooms with very simple descriptions, maybe one feature and a few monsters. The meat of the dungeon game lies in your ability as ref to string these random pearls into gold; and in the player’s ability to leverage the dungeon environment to their advantage. This is why it’s important to pepper even empty rooms with features and keep the overall layout in mind. When an encounter begins where are the monsters coming from? Think in terms of both interest and plausibility. How much warning do adventurers get? What do they when they hear a small legion of Orcs clanking in laminar armour from behind?

The trick to produce these circumstances is not to overthink. The dungeon game is very complex: keep the many elements that make up its whole simple, and let the interest develop from those interactions. An empty room with a dangling chain and a cabinet by the door combined with d6 Armored Orcs with javelins and swords and their Battle Bat is a recipe for an interesting fight. How do they use the cabinet? To delay entry, or as cover against thrown javelins? How will they deal with the flying Battle Bat that targets their wizard? Will they position a Thief up on the chain, ready to drop on an Orc with a plunging attack?

SET PIECES BATTLES:

Set piece battles are highly considered encounters that occur in specific rooms. This is where you can flex your creative muscle; it’s a good opportunity to apply features that are progressive. Say, the party fights an Electric Eel Man in a room that slowly fills with water, unless four pipes can be jammed . Other objectives than simple may also be established with some care. The princess, once her Orc guardians realize their plight, might be in danger during the fight and require protection.

The next step of your tutelage will involve a guide based around creating exceptional boss fights against beings beyond heinous. For now, the same skills applied elsewhere are applicable here: elegant monster combinations interface with the environment to create dynamic, evolving situations.

DUELING:

Sometimes things must be solved mano-a-mano. Honourable monsters may agree to settle a larger combat with a duel between champions.

I have had great success with Cave Girl’s Dueling System. These duels can play out alongside larger fights following the same principles as Split Battles. I tend to award all XP from monsters defeated in duels solely to the duelist. I have had campaigns where players go positively duel crazy: they make for tremendously dramatic moments. I have also had campaigns with cowards who refuse to put their life on the line in so vulnerable a manner, and instead seek only to trick, trap, and otherwise undermine their more noble opponents. What ho! ‘Tis typical player behaviour, rearing its ugly head once again.

INCENTIVES FOR KILLING:

My campaigns focus on violence as a primary concern. To that end I award 100XP per HD of defeated enemy, multiplied by two for those with special abilities. “Defeated” does not just mean murder, foes that have been driven to surrender or retreat also grant XP. In order to earn that XP the foe’s in question must put up a worthy fight; there is nothing to be gained in the murdering of Goblinoid children, with apologies to Gygax

Luke Gearing may weep at the mention of incentive—let him! For whom between us has converted more venomous villains and beleaguered bastards into XP?


Have you studied my words well, squire? Good! Though the actual game mechanics governing battle may be simple, there is an endless richness and variety to be found within the dungeon. Remember, above all else, to be flexible and creative in your adjudication. Players will constantly try to push the boundaries of what’s possible; and so they must, otherwise their little adventurers may face death by dire dismemberment.

Go forth, push those adventurers to the brink and let them earn their glory!