Ability Scores and Checks - Part 1

AD&D 2e Glossary

The ability scores of D&D have remained consistent from ’74 onward, albeit the final reordering only occurred in 2e. How one uses these scores for adjudication has evolved with every iteration, and I won’t waste time relating a history that has already been well researched by others.

Ability Checks, wherein you attempt to roll under your ability score with a d20, were still considered nonstandard by 1989. 2e shoved them into the glossary and begrudgingly noted that you can use them as saves. Yet, the Nonweapon Proficiency system of 2e uses ability checks as the base for that mechanic; when you’re rolling a Navigation check, you’re just rolling an Intelligence ability check with a -2 penalty to the ability score. It’s as messy as its ludicrous name suggests.

Chatter on the old forums makes it clear that ability checks were common at many tables due to its utility and simplicity: roll equal to or less than the number on your sheet, and we’re done here. No math on the player side beyond a bonus or penalty given by the DM (or for particularly difficult tasks, halving the ability score). Both players and the DM can immediately calculate their chances of success; the DC is right there. It’s easy to call for when needed and easy to categorize most actions into one of the six abilities.

That same chatter evidences that others most certainly did not use this semi-rule. They note that it is overly beneficial to high stat characters (giving an 80% chance of success to a stat with 16), while being functionally useless to anyone with an average score (50% chance for a stat of 10, aka: a coin flip). Conversely, it creates a ceiling of a 90% chance, where even a PC with a max score of 18 will fail 1 out of 10 times.  Since ability scores do not increase with level, there’s no improving this percentage, leaving a level 14 character exactly as good or bad at any given ability as they were at level 1.

These objections are worth discussing, so we’ll come back to them later.

The main objection of the grognards, as with any skill-like system introduced to ‘old-school’ play, is that it replaces descriptive problem-solving in favor of push-button solutions. Why attempt to offer any details on how the PC talks to the guard or searches for the hidden clues when players can just ask to make a check? Why think about solutions when you have a big button that solves any problem with a 75% or whatever chance of success? This mechanic will be the death of thoughtful and creative play!

Pictured here: Moldvay ruining D&D as early as the '81 Basic Set

 

I find this last argument to be nonsense for a few reasons.

First, push-button solutions are everywhere in AD&D. Need to lift this portcullis? Bend bars/lift gates. Open a stuck door? Open door. Oh, hey look, they’re just modified Strength checks. Then there are thieving skills which are explicitly push-button; for the thief, they’ve got a Hide In Shadows hammer and everything looks like a percentile nail. If we dig into the spells, aren’t they a bit push-button? After all, you don’t have the wizard describe the intricate details of Magic Missile; it’s fire and forget, literally. Hell, attack rolls fit this definition.

Second, what’s the alternative mechanic for determining success for an activity that has some chance of failure? A common answer suggests eyeballing the chance of success, then calling for a roll with a d6 (à la secret doors, and don’t get me started on that vestigial search mechanic) or using a percentile roll. Okay, what are you basing that chance on? If the fighter is attempting to push a boulder, you would take the PC’s Strength into account. If the thief is attempting to swing off the chandelier, you’d consider their Dexterity. If you’re making a call on their chances without considering the ability score, that’s just arbitrary and it invalidates a core part of what makes that PC who they are. If you’re making that call with the ability score in mind, why not just use the damn score and apply a modifier? It’s right there.

Third, if exploration and social interactions are spoiled because players are using ability checks like they’re Hit X to Skip, that isn’t their fault; it’s a DM issue. This is AD&D we’re talking about, right? It’s the DM’s game. As DM, you choose the mechanics of how your players interact with the world. You’re the one calling for the checks! There is nothing stopping you from using ability checks to reinforce world-building and emergent play. Ask the player how the character searches/talks/whatever, then let them know how their decisions impacted the modifier you give to the ability check. If they’re asking for the check themselves, judo them into explaining how they want to use it, and reward clever responses with good bonuses. If the PC has a good enough stat that modifiers obviate the chance of failure, then don’t call for the roll; instead, congratulate them on their ingenuity and let them do the thing they were trying to do.

Sure, but how do you pay respects?

 

The argument that ability checks (and skill checks) make players dumber does not fly with me. Players aren’t pushing a “solve problem for me” button, they’re pushing a “have my character interact with the world” button. They’re directly interfacing with the game through the lens of the PC they’ve created, and using the ability score – the first thing they generate when making a character – to do so. Honestly, what else are ability scores for? They should have more meaning than just providing two dozen small modifiers to varied subsystems.

You don’t have to pick between smart play and simple, sheet-based mechanics. You can have both. Anyway, it lets the players roll the dice more and they like that.

We’ll look at the other problems in Part 2.