Foreword
Way back in issue #39 of Dragon® Magazine, I found a great article called Good Hits and Bad Misses. My friends and I had been playing the AD&D® game for a couple of years, and
we took one look and adopted the article’s critical hit and fumble system. We
ignored every piece of advice about responsible use of the system and began
using the critical tables in our next game.
Our epic battles turned into bloodbaths. Our group of adventurers left a trail
of dismemberment and sucking chest wounds in our wake. I distinctly recall one
battle in which my character, a dwarven fighter named Hendel, had the
unbelievable misfortune of losing one leg, an arm, and the other leg at the ankle. He
still had 30 hit points left, so Hendel kept on battling, swinging his axe with
great war-cries as he crawled along after his enemies. Talk about your
suspended disbelief!
Now it occurs to me that maybe, just maybe, even Conan (or Godzilla!) would
have been incapacitated by these injuries. In fact, maybe Hendel, if role-played
well, would have curled up into a ball and cried for his mother when he lost
that first leg. I sure would have. But we had a great time with it, even when
fumbles led to friendly-fire decapitations and other such incidents.
The point to all this is that any fantasy role-playing game has a pretty tough
job in creating fast but semi-realistic combat rules, and the AD&D game, even
with variant rules like the critical hit system we ran amok with, is basically
an abstract game. The Combat & Tactics book is a compromise that adds some detail to combat—not to make it more realistic, but to make combat more believable. There are darn good reasons why people stop fighting after they lose a
couple of limbs, why 12th-level fighters don’t turn their backs on guys with knives
in their hands, and why people ought to be polite to angry folks pointing
loaded crossbows at them.
If you’re one of those players who thinks, “Hey, it’s only 1d4 points of
damage, what do I care?” (and who hasn’t, once in a while?) you’ll find that this
book’s going to make you think twice. I can’t think of a single example in all of
fantasy literature where a character wasn’t concerned about someone trying to
put a knife or arrow in him; why should your character be any different? Combat & Tactics rewards common sense and quick thinking. Taking needless risks and making bad
decisions can get a person killed in a fight. Don’t you think your character
would see things the same way?
Rich Baker
November, 1994
Before anyone ever thought about creating a role-playing game, there was a
little set of rules called the Chainmail™ game. With that slim booklet in hand, one could use miniature figures to
conduct medieval battles, from sweeping conflicts in which huge armies of
steel-clad men fought for honor and booty, to small bands of heroes storming formidable
castles, to forces of elves taking up their bows against fearsome dragons.
The Chainmail rules were hardly the last word in historical accuracy, but they were easy to
learn and easy to play. They also did a great job of conveying what it might
have been like to see a medieval battle unfolding before you. The Chainmail game eventually gave rise to the first fantasy campaigns, but a set of
miniatures rules is not a role-playing game, and it wasn’t long before the D&D® game,
and later the AD&D game, came along to replace it. Nevertheless, the Chainmail rules for tabletop combat remain at the root of the AD&D game.
The AD&D game is about more than combat, but what fantasy adventure is
complete without at least one pitched battle where the heroes prevail by the strength
of their sword arms and the sharpness of their wits? The Combat & Tactics book is for anyone whose heart races (as mine does) at the thought of
clashing arms; not just hack ‘n slash, but heroic battles with swirling action,
ringing steel, and eldritch flashes of magic. You won’t find 20 pages of tables
telling you exactly where a sword blow lands in this book, but you will find plenty
of ways to make combat more than a dice-rolling contest or an exercise in
subtracting hit points from your character’s total. If along the way you learn to
stay away from fights unless you’re sure your party can win them, that’s even
better.
Skip Williams
November, 1994
Table of Contents