Design Thoughts: Returning to Alignment

Like any big-headed Dungeons & Dragons player, I have spent my fair share of time debating with people regarding the merits of an alignment system within the game framework. After the Head Wizard of D&D R&D addressed the issue of alignment in the current iteration of the D&D Next, debating the merits of an alignment system became the topic du jour in the twitter-verse. Everybody had an opinion to argue or defend on the issue. During one of these heated discussions, I ended up tweeting some things from the hip that got me thinking:

My problem with alignment comes when people disagree on what is good, evil, or otherwise. If the game is not morally ambiguous enough to raise the question, then you don't need alignment. If it is morally ambiguous enough, then the alignment system is more burdensome than not.

Of course, this is just my current viewpoint on the issue. As I thought of it, I thought it would be important to explain my stance on this a little bit better.

Alignment through the Ages

There are many different versions of
the alignment chart but I went for this one.

In one context, alignment gives every character a sort of quick summary of a character's moral compass. Does she abide by the law whenever possible, or is she a free spirit? Does she put the needs of others before her own, or is she selfish to the core? For decades, players in AD&D have had the pleasure (or frustration) of pinning their character on the nine-point alignment chart.

Of course, how alignment applies to a character depends a great deal on the ruleset and the players. In the Third Edition, alignment was considered a guideline for how a character views the world. "Alignment is a tool for developing your character’s identity. It is not a straitjacket for restricting your character." Hypertext d20 SRD, Alignment. The rules even go further, stating that two characters of the same alignment can have very different perspectives.

The modern rendition of AD&D (First Edition) captured in the Old School Reference and Index Compilation (OSRIC) has a more firm stance on alignment. "Alignment is more than a philosophy; evil and good are palpably real in the game world." OSRIC, pg 42. It is a bit heavier handed than the presentation given in the Third Edition, but there are generally no particular consequences given for characters that deviate from their chosen alignment. To that end, it's primary purpose is to provide a guideline for character roleplay.

As simply a guideline for roleplaying, alignment does not present any major issues because it is a wide field. "Each alignment represents a broad range of personality types or personal philosophies, so two characters of the same alignment can still be quite different from each other." Hypertext d20 SRD, Alignment. If one person things interprets "Good" to have one meaning while another interprets it to mean another, it does not really matter because at the end of the day alignment has no in-game ramification. Alignment does not create any issues in this context because it does not matter.

Where Alignment Matters: The Paladin's Dilemma

Older editions of Dungeons & Dragons have a few situations where alignment does make a big deal. There are a number of iconic examples, such as spells that detect specific alignments or deal extra damage to specific alignments, but many of the best examples come from a single source: the Paladin. From abilities that specifically target evil to the restriction of not being able to associate with characters of Evil alignment, the Paladin is replete with alignment-heavy concerns.

Who would have guessed such an iconic
class would have so many problems?

The best example is that of the Paladin's alignment restriction. The holy warrior has the restriction that he be of Lawful Good alignment. "A paladin is a paragon of righteousness sworn to be, and always to remain, Lawful Good. If this vow is ever breached, the paladin must atone and perform penance to be decided by a powerful NPC cleric of the same alignment—unless the breach was intentional, in which case the paladin instantly loses his or her enhanced status as a paladin and may never regain it." OSRIC, p34. Suddenly, what constitutes Good or Evil is fundamentally important and not just a matter of roleplaying. Was that act Good enough, or does Sir Paladin suddenly become Sir Fighter?

There are plenty of iconic examples of "Which is the Good choice?" in the Dungeons & Dragons community. Many a message board post has been spent debating the moral value of saving orc children in a nursery or killing people overcome by evil curses. What is a Paladin to do when faced with these difficult moral choices? Which is the Good and which is the Evil? Or, perhaps, are they all different shades of grey?

What is a Paladin to do in this situation?

I have found that a lot of players do not want to have this debate at the game table. It can often be a personal discussion, as most players will base their decision on their own personal views. As a former student of philosophy, I actually appreciate moral dilemmas. I like the idea that a player would be concerned about the ramifications of his character's actions beyond that of "did it get me more XP?"

As both a player and DM, I find it easier to consider the Paladin's Dilemma in the context of the Paladin's vows and the concerns of his god instead of an arbitrary alignment. The choice of a Dwarf Paladin of Moradin regarding orc babies would likely differ greatly than that of a Human Paladin of Ilmater. Despite that both Paladins are Good servants of Good gods, it is likely that they will choose opposed actions. Neither case really focused on the concept of Good as much as it did the views of each respective god.

But Does Alignment Matter?

It is interesting to me to contrast these two different perspectives on alignment in-game. On one hand, alignment does not really matter because its merely a guide to role-playing. Furthermore, there is a great deal of flexibility within each specific alignment, so a player has a lot of latitude in playing to his character's alignment. This is the simple way to address alignment. Each player is simply using the words to his or her best understanding but that those words have no meaning outside of a player's mind. It seems to me that in this context, it would be just as fair to say your alignment is "Awesome Nice" as it would be to say "Neutral Good." If alignment is going to have such expansive definitions and no ramifications, it actually serves no purpose.

On the other hand, where specific game effects are tied to alignment and require explanation, it can become difficult. Did the Paladin maintain his Lawful Good values? Did the Monk maintain a Lawful perspective? Was the Assassin sufficiently Evil? What choices constitute the Good choices? In these kind of situations, such as the question of the orc babies, alignment suddenly feels more burdensome to play than anything. Spending time questioning the moral value of choices within the context of specific alignments can be difficult, frustrating, or even game-breaking. Usually, the best answers involve disregarding the Alignment system and considering a character's faith, belief, or social history. If alignment is going to have such constrained yet nebulous function as to require leaving it behind in favor of alternatives, it actually serves no purpose.

The Ultimate Alignment Chart.

There are other ways to get around the issue that can be satisfying and entertaining. I have heard of at least one group where the Paladin decided how his actions fell on the alignment spectrum, allowing him some measure of control over the narrative. Of course, if that's the solution, it sounds like that group has essentially disregarded the alignment system in favor of an alternative. Some groups have adopted a belief system comparable to the Mouseguard RPG. The Distinction system used in the Cortex Plus ruleset (comparable to the Fate system's Aspects) is another interesting way to promote role-playing.

There are many interesting ways to find motivations for your character and help promote role-playing. Although the classic D&D alignment system is a way to do it, I reiterate my original statement regarding alignment:

My problem with alignment comes when people disagree on what is good, evil, or otherwise. If the game is not morally ambiguous enough to raise the question, then you don't need alignment. If it is morally ambiguous enough, then the alignment system is more burdensome than not.

But now I ask the question: How has alignment served at your game table? Is it something that people disregard or do players strictly adhere to their alignment? Do questions of alignment come up, or are issues of alignment not the kind of thing your group cares about?

Design Thoughts: Beyond Good and Evil

It's a good tonic, altruism.  Nothing
helps one put problems in perspective
like allegiance to a higher cause.

First, I would like to preface this by saying this does not intend to be nearly as big-headed as the title may suggest.  It is not my intent to rewrite the works of Friedrich Nietzsche or even discuss them.  This is centered completely on the place of good and evil within the context of Dungeons & Dragons.  It comes up a lot in the discussions of the next iteration of Dungeons & Dragons and also in a lot of classic D&D debates.

It has been made public that the next iteration of Dungeons & Dragons will see a return to the nine-point alignment system.  Most importantly, the spectrum of good and evil first introduced in Advanced Dungeons & Dragons (1977) would see a return.  This has left me somewhat frustrated, mostly because I have never been able to rationalize how an objective conceptualization of good and evil could ever fit into the framework of a fantasy world like Dungeons & Dragons.

Who else would kick a man for
eating ice cream?

I want to focus this on the place of the gods within the construction of objective good and evil.  There are many gods within any D&D pantheon that are labeled as some sort of Good.  In fact, most settings have a host of good gods, whether they be Lawful Good, Neutral Good, or Chaotic Good.  Yet every good god has some different folio, some different set of goals and interests.  When people talk about what it means to be good within the setting, I cannot help but wonder where that definition is supposed to come from.  Normally, I would expect the gods to aid in the definition of good and evil, but D&D deities have taught me to think otherwise.

At the end of the day, it is quite easy to end up with two gods of good conflicting over some major issue.  So often, it seems that two definitionally good gods disagree over some sort of major issue with ethical ramifications.  My question, then, is: Which choice is the good?  Which good god do I follow to assure that I am following the good choice?  If I support Tyr's pursuit of justice, am I acting in conflict with Ilmater's pursuit of mercy?  Is there no "good" option, or does that fall under a different god's folio?  How do I know, as a character in the fantasy world, what good really is?

I think I'm starting to sound more like
Moriarty than Sherlock Holmes.

I do not want to sound like the guy that is trying to shut down on everybody's notion of good in the fantasy world.  I feel like objective good has a place within a monotheism if the one god is a god of good.  But when gods have folios composed of arts, crafts, or abstract ideas like vengeance and strategy, it is difficult to see where good falls.  Honestly, it is the same issue I have when popular video games try to integrate notions of good and evil into the narrative.  Sometimes, I do something that seems pretty good and I get an evil point.  Or, in the reverse, I do something that feels pretty evil but get good credit for it.  Very rarely do these games go out of their way to tell you what is meant by good.  It is only by guessing can you intuit what the scenario developer really meant when he or she used the word "good" within the game.

(Note:  All of the images on this post were taken from the Batman Alignment Chart)

On Playing D&D

Recently, somebody told me that I clearly just play Dungeons & Dragons wrong.  It was something of a peculiar experience, since so much of the discussion recently has been "How you play D&D is the right way."  To have somebody so handedly dismiss me and my idea of the game was disturbing, to say the least, insomuch that it left me rattled for at least a day and I considered canceling all of my D&D games in response.  For whatever reason, I took it very seriously.

In resolving the issue, I had to spend a lot of time thinking about why my D&D experience was different than the apparent norm.  My experience with D&D, and tabletop role-playing, followed a slightly different course from some but I do not think it was such as to be considered "wrong."  I thought it would be appropriate to write a little bit about it here to provide some prospective.

Red Box Awesome!

I picked up my first D&D set, the Red Box Basic Set, in 1988, shortly after moving away from Los Angeles.  At the time, I was eight years old.  I was familiar with the idea of D&D as some family friends in Los Angeles played AD&D every now and then and I got to watch.  I knew what the idea was but I never got to play.  Now, armed with my own set, I could build the kinds of adventures and whatnot that I had seen and heard of from my friends and older brother.  Or, so goes the plan.

Years passed without me ever finding a group to play with.  I had kept up, getting books and sets here and there, even exploring the bowels of AD&D 2nd Edition.  My brother got involved with a group in high school and I would hear exciting tales of his games.  It was not until late 1992 or early 1993 that I finally cobbled together a group of people to play with.  For five years, all I could do was read and hear about how great a game this was without ever getting a real chance to play.

Gargoyles. They look evil.

Why is any of this relevant to how I learned to play D&D?  It is important because before I ever really played D&D, my perspective had already been colored.  From 1987 to 1991, I spent a fair amount of time playing the Ultima series on my home computer.  By the time I played Dungeons & Dragons, I already had fixed ideas about what a role-playing game would entail.  Most significantly, Ultima IV, V, and VI had impressed upon me the idea of what a fantasy world would be.

As to how this relates to the idea of me playing D&D wrong relates to the notion of monsters, alignment, and sentience.  By the time I played D&D for the first time, Ultima had already affected my perspective.  Ultima VI: The False Prophet taught me the importance of considering and understanding alternative perspectives.  The gargoyles, who appear to be a race of monstrous humanoids at first glance, are a legitimate race of sentient creatures with just as meaningful a claim on survival as humans.

Only evil monsters sacrifice the Avatar, right?

The gargoyles of Ultima VI are monsters when you begin the game, pure and simple.  They are Chaotic Evil (or, perhaps, Lawful Evil) monsters that seize holy sites across the world and kill people with reckless abandon.  They even try to sacrifice you in the introduction sequence.  As you play, you soon determine that these monsters are in fact civilized and have a developed culture.  However, they see you as the ruthless monster.  You, the hero, tore into their world, stripped them of their holiest artifact, and left their world to deteriorate slowly into nothing.  In D&D terms, you were the Chaotic Evil champion and humans were nothing more than monsters to kill or be killed by.  The importance of understanding perspective was huge in completing the game.  By the end, you have created a world where humans and gargoyles must work together to share in the wisdom of the holiest artifact (the aptly named Codex of Ultimate Wisdom).

But Meepo is friend!

When I finally got to playing D&D, the lessons of "The False Prophet" still resonated.  Goblins, orcs, and the rest of the intelligent races of D&D Land had just as valid a claim to civilization as any other.  So, when I read that a monstrous race was "always Evil," it bothered me.  It seemed very small minded, very ignorant to assume that a race was "always Evil."  The idea that Goblins or Kobolds were something you killed on sight, not because they attacked you first but because they're an evil race, did not correlate with my worldview.  I could not help but try to rationalize it in a modern view: "Yeah, we kill those goddamned <your_least_favorite_race_or_nationality> because they're evil!"  It did not settle well with me.  It bothered me that people would want a fantasy setting where killing people because of their race was acceptable (or, to a certain extent, desirable).

This... is... D&D!

So how am I playing D&D wrong?  Because goblins and orcs are there to be killed.  They are an evil race and they are there to be defeated.  That is how D&D has always been.  To try and apply big-headed philosophical notions of good and evil to a game about exploring dungeons, killing monsters, and getting treasure is just ridiculous.  In short, D&D has always been the original Munchkin.  It is nothing other than that.  To play it otherwise, in the opinion of this person I spoke to, was to play it wrong.

Obviously, after some consideration, this opinion is neither true nor universally held.  If Eberron taught us anything, it's that a D&D game can be complex, interesting, and morally ambiguous while still fitting within the framework of Dungeons & Dragons.  D&D did not have to be the mindless hack-and-slash and treasure-gathering that Gary Gygax's original adventures back in the late 1970s and early 1980s seemed to be.  Although Dungeons & Dragons may have its roots in a tactical combat game that developed into an adventuring game, the modern D&D has become much more than its progenitor.  But it does not have to be, if the group wants it to be simple.  Really, it's the game you want it to be (as long as you want a primary method of conflict resolution to involve violence).

I acknowledge that D&D started within a certain framework.  I also acknowledge that every group, every player, shapes the game into the game they want to play.  For me, it was complex.  It was ambiguous.  "Good" and "Evil" are relative terms and practically meaningless.  Goblins and orcs held just as valid a title to life and society as elves and dwarves.  This is how I play and this is how I continue to play.  The words of one close-minded player will not change that.