Overloading the Damage Die
I enjoy rolling dice, but rolling both to hit and for damage is simply excessive. Imagine if, instead, skill tests were two rolls: first a roll to determine if you succeed, and then a second roll to determine the extent to which you succeed. Such a mechanic would be destined for a revision. This is no longer a revolutionary viewpoint—removing the to-hit roll was a McDowallian revolution and is a justifiably vaunted aspect of Into the Odd (and Electric Bastionland). However, I can’t help but feel something is missing in removing the to-hit roll, sapping a bit of the drama from attacks.
The TL;DR of my solution is to not treat Armor not as damage reduction, but as a threshold for determining whether the attack hits. The damage roll thus becomes both a to-hit roll and damage roll, because Defense is akin to a D&D armor class. This makes sense to me, because I always wondered why “how accurately do I hit them?” and “how much does the hit hurt them?” were two independent events. With the overloaded damage die the attacks that deal more damage are also more likely to hit.
[Nota bene: this adds a few layers of complication to the combat of Into the Odd. In the field of ultralight systems, I don’t think Into the Odd can be improved upon, so neither this blog post nor Prismatic Wasteland attempt to do so.]
Fun can be a nebulous concept, but the type of “fun” this system offers might be alea or ludus. (For a full taxonomy, check out Levi Kornelsen’s full breakdown.) Alea is the thrill of risks and randomness. If you or your players cheer when a natural 20 is rolled or squeal with schadenfreude at a natural 1, you may enjoy the alea aspect of combat. Ludus is the joy from system mastery and the more gamey elements of games. If your players enjoy robust character creation or rules that reward tactical decision-making, it may be ludus they seek. This system satisfies alea by adding back critical hits and critical misses to the damage rolls. It appeals to ludus by having enough complexity to warrant time spent finagling with them as something inherently interesting. But it also strives toward speed in play, just like its Into the Odd forebear.
Damage & Defense
When a character makes an attack, there is no “to hit” roll. The attacker just rolls their damage dice indicated by the weapon they are using (or on the stat block for non-player characters). Player-characters add their Strength modifier to the damage rolled for melee attacks or their Dexterity modifier for ranged attacks (or melee attacks where the weapon has the finesse tag). If the total damage result exceeds the defender’s “Defense”, the defender reduces their Grit (which is the HP analog) by the total damage amount. If the total damage is equal to or below the defender’s Defense, the defender takes no damage. In addition, there may be a Whiff or Whack depending on the result of the damage dice (more on that later).
A character’s armor, scales or other protective gear determines their Defense, the threshold for determining whether an attack hits. All characters’ primary means of preventing attacks is Defense, but it isn’t the only way. In Dungeons & Dragons-inspired games, “Armor Class” tends to be an unholy amalgamation of the character’s protective gear and their ability to dodge attacks. A character with a high AC may be an artful dodger or a heavily-armored brute. In Into the Odd and its offspring, “Armor” reduces the total damage dealt, point for point. In this system, a high Dexterity score does not impact a character’s Defense. However, player-characters may spend Dexterity to avoid an attack after an attack is declared but before the result of the damage roll is announced. The Dexterity cost to avoid an attack is 1 for a character wearing light armor or no armor, 1d4 if they are in medium armor and 1d6 if they are in heavy armor. I like this dichotomy because armor is a more passive form of protection—it prevents damage just by wearing it, whereas dodging is an active form of protection—the defender must make a choice to avoid damage. I also like the trade-off between armor that has a higher Defense and armor that allows for less physically taxing dodges. If the only trade-off with armor is weight vs protection, characters tend to wear the heaviest armor they can. Here, there is more of a choice to make, with real impacts. (There are other aspects of armor that set certain pieces apart in Prismatic Wasteland, such as power armor, space suits, invisibility, but that is beyond the scope of this humble blog post.)
The most typical roll for Prismatic Wasteland, outside of combat, is a d20 stat test, which uses the popular advantage/disadvantage. Part of the reason it is so popular is that it simplifies adjudicating situations for a referee with more important considerations while running a game than tallying up discrete pluses and minuses. I also allow stacking of advantage (up to three net advantage or disadvantage—beyond that, it’s an automatic success or failure). However, advantage or disadvantage did not feel right for damage rolls. The solution, as is so often the case, was to steal something from Into the Odd and then modify to taste.
“Attacks that are Impaired, such as firing through cover, or fighting while grappled, roll d4 Damage regardless of weapon. Similarly, attacks that are Enhanced by a risky stunt or a helpless or vulnerable target, roll d12 Damage. ”
Instead of set die sizes for Enhanced or Impaired attacks, Enhancing (or impairing) damage steps up (or down) the damage die one step (e.g., from d6 to d8). Enhancing and Impairing an attack can cancel each other out or stack, like advantage and disadvantage. An attack is Enhanced if the attacker benefits from a particularly advantageous situation, such as attacking after dropping from a swinging chandelier. When an attack is enhanced, the smallest damage die is increased by one step (unless the smallest die is already a d20). An attack is Impaired if the attacker is in a detrimental situation, such as firing at a target behind cover, attacking while grappled or attacking with a ranged weapon at close range. When an attack is impaired, the largest damage dice is decreased by one step. If the damage dice are d4s, they instead deal 1 damage and the attack cannot be a Whiff or Whack. What is a Whiff? What is a Whack? Well, we haven’t finished overloading this damage die yet!
Whiffs & Whacks
Critical hits and critical failures are a fun aspect of rolling dice that the overloaded damage die fully embraces. However, to avoid confusion with Critical Successes and Critical Failures from the d20-based stat tests Prismatic Wasteland uses, I call them Whiffs for critical failures and Whacks for critical successes. I apologize for the silly, alliterative names, but perhaps they are helpful in both remembering and conceptualizing this rule. If any damage die results in a natural 1, it is a Whiff. On a Whiff, the attack does not deal damage, and the defender may counterattack the attacker if they are within range to do so. A Whiff may fictionally reflect a typical miss, a failure to properly use the weapon or even the malfunctioning of a complicated weapon. If all damage dice result in their highest value, it is a Whack. On a Whack, the attack deals damage even if the defender’s Defense would otherwise prevent it and it deals additional damage equal to the attacker’s level. Whacks may also trigger other effects based on the attack’s tags or the attacker’s abilities or traits. I like this because now any weapon may still deal damage to an armored foe. I think of the example of a knife fighter attacking a heavily armored opponent. In most instances, a puny dagger (1d4) is unlikely to penetrate the armor. But when a 4 is rolled on that 1d4, it represents the knife fighter finding a gap in the armor and taking full advantage of it.
[Sidenote: I went back and forth on which silly, alliterative names to use, but am currently using Whack & Whiff. Other contenders include Boom & Bust, Mayhem & Mishap, and Strike & Slip. Other names have also been suggested, such as Fuck ‘em up & Fuck up, Clobber & Klutz, Based & Cringe. The possibilities are endless!]
Just like the overloaded encounter die can simulate the passage of time, the overloaded damage die can simulate running out of ammunition for weapons that require it. I accomplish this by adding a “Reload X” tag, which means the weapon must be reloaded when any of the damage die roll a natural X or lower. Some weapons like the autopistol or tommy gun rarely need to reload, and thus have the tag “Reload 1”. Other weapons, like a shotgun almost always need to reload after each shot, and thus have the tag “Reload 11” paired with a damage die of d12 (an exploding d12 in this case). Others like the rifle fall somewhere in the middle (the rifle also has a d12 damage die but is Reload 6).
Now a single damage die roll can generate a variety of effects. Take the aforementioned rifle as an example. Let’s say that a character is level 2 with a +1 Dexterity is using a rifle to hunt a wirewolf (a cyberlycanthrope, a machine that becomes a wolflike monstrosity when it malfunctions). A wirewolf has a Defense of 3 and has the Fierce tag, which means the wirewolf counterattacks when an attack against it is a Whiff. When the hunter fires their rifle, below are the possible results depending on the roll:
1: Whiff. The wirewolf takes no damage, the hunter must reload the rifle and the wirewolf counterattacks the hunter. (8.33% chance)
2: Miss. Total damage is 3, which is equal to the wirewolf’s Defense, so the wirewolf does not take damage. The hunter must also reload the rifle. (8.33% chance)
3-6: Hit with Reload. Because the total damage exceeds the wirewolf’s Defense, the wirewolf takes the amount rolled plus the +1 Dexterity bonus as damage. However, the roll was still below 6, so the hunter must reload the rifle. (33.33% chance)
7-11: Hit. Again, the wirewolf takes all of the damage, but this time the hunter does not need to spend an action reloading the rifle before they shoot again. (41.67% chance)
12: Whack. The wirewolf takes the damage rolled plus the +1 Dexterity bonus and plus the hunter’s level (2) for a total of 15 damage. The wirewolf only has 24 Grit, so that is a deadly wound for the wirewolf. In addition, the hunter does not need to reload. (8.33% chance)
Whiffs and Whacks also fictionally represent deadlier, more complex weapons being harder to use. Most weapons deal a single die of damage, so the odds of a Whiff or Whack are equal. But more complex, sci-fi weapons tend to deal multiple dice of damage. Such weaponry are typically ancient technology the characters find in dungeons, such as a Laser Sword, which deals 2d10 damage, compared to 1d8 from an ordinary sword. A 1d8 sword will have a Whiff 12.5% of the time, compared to 19% of the time for a 2d10 laser sword. A 1d8 sword will also have a Whack 12.5% of the time, compared to only 1% of the time for a 2d10 laser sword. The laser sword is clearly harder to use, though it deals more damage, and has more interesting uses (without getting into that thicket entirely, a laser sword has the Deflecting and Penetrating tags in addition to the tags it shares with an ordinary sword).
Training in complicated, technologically advanced weapons can mitigate the difficulty in using them. Prismatic Wasteland does not have classes but does have abilities characters can select when they reach certain levels. One such ability is the Weapons Specialist, available only to characters that have at least wielded a technologically advanced weapon. For characters with this ability, they have different conditions for a Whack or a Whiff. They have a Whack when at least one damage die results in its highest value and no damage die is a natural 1. They have a Whiff when at least one damage die is a natural 1 and no damage die results in its highest value. This changes the odds of, for example, the laser sword from a 19% chance of a Whiff to a 17% chance and from a 1% chance of a Whack to a 17% chance. It is still somewhat difficult to use with a higher chance of a Whiff than an ordinary sword, but a Weapons Specialist also has a higher chance of landing a very effective blow.
All of this makes combat sound more complicated than it is in practice. At its core, it is still just a single roll, adding two numbers together and comparing those to another number. To the extent it is more complicated than a more ultralight system, it makes up for it by offering a bit more to sink one’s teeth into. This was actually the second blog post I began writing, back in December 8, 2020. Any descendant of D&D spends a lot of time on combat (as the “inevitable fail state”) so these rules are very important to Prismatic Wasteland, even if my players often go multiple sessions without drawing a sword (or if they do, without having to use it). After nearly a year of using these rules and thinking about them, I am pretty happy with how they work (but reserve the right to continue fiddling with it endlessly!). Even if you are not currently in the market for a combat system, I hope this blog post at least made you think about what you value in combat systems and how rules facilitate those values.
