WickedThought

Inspired by an off-hand comment in another journal, I put some serious thought to why I really don’t like alignment in any iteration of D&D. What I came across was one snippy comment and a well-thought out critique.

First, the snippy comment.

Can anyone give me the real difference between chaotic good vs. neutral good and chaotic evil vs. neutral evil?

I mean, is there a real difference between these two? I’ll give you the text from both alignments–from the OGL Wiki–without identifying either. And tell me, what is the real difference between these alignments?

A [beleted] villain does whatever she can get away with…
vs
A [beleted] character does whatever his greed, hatred, and lust for destruction drive him to do…

I mean, both pretty much do whatever they want to do. Both are psychopaths. Chronic amoral behavior without regard to anyone’s safety. They do what they can get away with.

Meanwhile, we have the other side of the equation.

A [beleted] character does the best that a good person can do. He is devoted to helping others. He works with kings and magistrates but does not feel beholden to them.
vs
A [beleted] character acts as his conscience directs him with little regard for what others expect of him. He makes his own way, but he’s kind and benevolent. He believes in goodness and right but has little use for laws and regulations.

 
Again, we’ve got two distinct alignments that pretty much say the same thing. In fact, the good alignments seem even more identical than the evil alignments.

Now, I anticipate 90% of the answers to this question. They all begin or contain the phrase: "Well, the way I see alignment…"

But see, that’s the chief problem. Alignment is a rule, but it isn’t a rule. Not like hit points or armor class or spells per day. Alignment is a rule, but it’s a rule the players are meant to interpret. Losing your alignment has a severe punishment, but it’s a judgment call without any real rules to fall back on. It’s a rule, but it isn’t a rule.

Nobody can argue that when a d10 rolls a 7 it really rolled an 8 because that’s the way you interpret it. Nobody can argue that a critical hit isn’t a critical because they don’t see the 20 (and the sucky confirm roll) differently than everybody else.

Alignment is a rule that isn’t a rule. A rule with consequences and bonuses and penalties that’s completely up in the air, vague, ambiguous and undefined.

That’s why I don’t like alignment. As a rule, it doesn’t make any sense. And, when you really start to look at it, the alignments really don’t mean anything anyway.

When I play D&D, I play an evil character all the time. A chaotic evil character. I do it to prove a point. I play a chaotic evil character, but only the DM knows it. I tell him not to worry. He’ll understand why by the end of the first session. Because, by the end of the first adventure, all the neutral good and chaotic good and lawful good characters have comitted acts far more evil than anything I could do.

The default alignment in D&D is chaotic neutral: I’ll do what I need to do to win the game.

With this thought in mind, I approached the whole concept of alignment.

Supernatural vs. Natural
The first problem rests with the presumptive idea most people have about issues like alignment and magic in D&D. They use the term "supernatural" when describing them.

This is wrong. There is nothing "supernatural" about alignment in any D&D world. Alignment is a tangible force. Observable and reproducable. Alignment is like gravity, electromagnitism and the strong and weak force: it is a necessary element of the world. Without it, the world falls apart. We even have planes of alignment: primal elements of the universe. They can’t be removed without fucking everything up.

In D&D, alignment is not a supernatural agency, it is a force of nature.

If that’s true, then why don’t we treat it like a primal agency. Treat it like gravity. Make it a part of the world you can’t ignore. It powers spells and other effects… why isn’t it just as real and tangible as gravity? Or the weak force? It makes the world work. Essential. Neccessary.

This also ditches the problem of alignment being a non-rule. Turns it into something like hit points or armor class or attack bonus. It’s real.

This also means alignment is no longer up for debate. "What does neutral evil mean?" No. It’s a real and tangible force. We know exactly what it means.

But how do we use it?

Alignment in the Game
The Alignments are Primal Powers now, looming over everything–men and gods alike.

Men and gods align themselves to a particular Power. Law, Chaos, Evil, Good. (We’ll get to Neutral in a moment.)

Law wants Obedience. Structure. Order.
Chaos wants Freedom, Liberty, Self-Reliance.
Good wants Virtue, Altruism, Comfort.
Evil wants Pain, Hatred, Suffering.

All of these are very "western." I mean, they are ideas that spring from Western philosophies. And then there’s Neutrality…

Neutrality is not "balance." Neutrality is nothingness. The world is an illusion. The Powers are not real. At least, they are not any more real than anything else. The Neutral character does not subscribe to the authority of the Powers. Of course, this philosophy is a direct consequence of introducing "the monk" into the system. Not at all Western, he brought with him a different Power. The Power that is not a Power.

Nothingness. Neutral. (That’s for you, Jess.)

Characters have points in each Power. You are no longer "lawful evil" or "lawful good." You have points in each power. Law 2, Chaos 1, Good, 3, Evil 1. You start the game with 3 points–which will quickly change. Allocate your points to your chosen Powers.

When you roll dice for an action aligned to the Powers, you gain a point. But here’s the catch. You can only have 7 points in the Powers. Whenever one rank goes up, another goes down.

This is specific: you gain points when you roll dice. Not just any action, but actions that cause a throw of the dice. Significant actions. Not petty evils or petty generosities. Significant actions.

Any time you roll dice, check your intention. Is your intention to serve evil? Cause pain, misery and sorrow? You add your alignment bonus to your roll. Is your intention to serve others, to ease suffering, to sacrifice yourself for another’s welfare? Add your Good points to your roll.

And don’t forget: any roll that serves a Power increases your rank in that Power… but you must also remove one rank from another Power. Also, any spells directly aligned to a power (the heal and harm spells come to mind) gain double the bonus.

If your rank in a Power is zero, you have no bonus. You aren’t Neutral (that’s different; see below), you just have no alignment to that Power.

What About Neutral?
Neutral characters are not aligned to any of the Powers. This means they gain no bonus… but they have an important benefit. Neutral characters do not serve the Powers… they are trying to transcend this limited existence to something else… a place not ruled by the Powers. A place where only one Power exists.

The Power of Will.

Neutral characters have ranks in "Neutral." Up to 7 points. When an aligned character rolls dice against the Neutral character, the Neutral character adds his alignment points to his defense. Armor class, saving throw, DC of the spell, whatever.

The Power of Will.

___

That’s it for now. I have more ideas, but I’ll let these settle for a while. A gift from me to you, my faithful D20 friends. 

Hope this helps.

1. The supposed production of offspring markedly different from either parent.

“A roleplaying game is a wargame where each player controls one mans (unit) rather than an army or a squad.”

When Matt told me that, I was knocked off balance. I didn’t know what to say.

We were talking about my previous D&D post (you can find it here) and my in-transit definition of roleplaying games. (I’m still not happy with the definition.) Matt’s reply was above. One player, one mans, wargame.

Took me a while to come up with an intelligent reply. You know, something other than, “That’s stupid!” or “You don’t know anything!” Well, here it is.

When we all first started playing RPGs, the tools we had were unsophisticated. They were crude. This reflected in the characters we made with them. The tools are crude, the craftsmanship can only go so far. The characters we first made were identified by “What can I do?” rather than “Who am I?”

I’m a big comics fan, and sometimes I have to demonstrate the differences between Marvel and DC characters. The early DC characters were identified by “What can I do?” Superman and Batman and Green Lantern really didn’t have personalities, they had powers. Big, smiling faces who fought for truth, justice and the American way. The only difference was their capabilities. That’s the fundamental flaw with most of the older DC characters. Identified by “What can I do?” rather than “Who am I?”

Stan Lee/Jack Kirby/Steve Ditko did a lot to change that. Spider-Man was one of the first characters to break that rule. The Fantastic Four, too. The stories in those early books were less about Spider-Man or the FF fighting bad guys (although, that was certainly the case), and more about the relationships those characters had. That’s what made the books dynamic. Relationships.

As we grew as gamers, our own needs grew as well. More complicated characters. Relationships. Consequences. Games that followed D&D (a wargame where each player controls one unit rather than a squad or an army) still involved hex paper and lead miniatures, but they were more sophisticated, taking into account the need to tell stories with the hex paper and miniatures. Games like RuneQuest and Traveller certainly did not fit the stereotype created by D&D.

But that raises a question. D&D is the first roleplaying game. Nobody can question that. But if D&D is a wargame where the players control one unit rather than a squad or an army, then what are the games that followed? They certainly don’t fit that definition; they are closer to the flawed definition I was working through in my previous essay: a game in which the players are rewarded for making choices that are consistent with the character’s motivations or further the plot of the story even if the choices are not strategic or tactically wise.

So, the games that followed D&D experienced Xenogensis. Offspring who do not resemble the parent.

Granted, D&D has matured, but it never quite caught up with its kids, seemingly content to remain what it is: a wargame. Players may not treat it like a wargame (remember: you can make any game a roleplaying game–even chess), but there it is. A wargame where each player controls one unit.

But if RuneQuest and Traveller and other first-generation games are not roleplaying games… then what are they? And, is D&D the only roleplaying game?

I’d say “No.” But that’s just a gut reaction. I don’t have anything to back it up. Not yet.