RPGaDAY 2026: Day Eight—Resolve

I'm a long-time player of roleplaying games, dating back to about 1983 when I first played Dungeons & Dragons. I fell out of the practice during college—I didn't find a group that I gelled with and didn't want to spend all my free-time hours in a library group study room—and didn't really play much between 1992 or 1993 and about 2010, when I fell back into the hobby during the days of D&D 4E with a fervor and a passion. I participated in and ran weekly public play sessions at Aero Hobbies in Santa Monica and It's GameTime, got my son interested in the game when he was about 7 or so, enjoyed the launch of D&D 5E, and joined and ran games with friends and strangers alike in the Los Angeles area, even going to my first RPG cons. I met some of my best friends from my time in LA while rolling dice.

After my return to the tables, I also participated in a couple of RPG-related amateur press associations, including Alarums & Excursions and Ever & Anon. (You can find many of my fanzine contrubutions here.) So I've been aware of events such as RPGaDAY, even if I haven't participated. This year's instance started Aug. 1, which I missed, but let's see what comes of jumping in a week late. I can't promise to write something in response to a prompt every day, but I'll do my best to make my way through the calendar of prompts even if I spill out of August.

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Day Eight: Resolve—or, "A moment when a character kept or broke their resolve?"

Just yesterday, I started a new solo RPG session at my downstairs desk table before going to bed. Drawing inspiration from Jim Hall's Solo RPG Toolkit, Seedling Games' Procedures to Discover the Path Ahead, and Matt Davids's The Book of Random Tables: Dungeons, I created a new BECMI D&D character—a young dwarven rock farmer—to explore the mysterious forest southwest of Castle Town in search of long-rumored ruins.

It struck me recently that even though I've been DM'ing games dating back to the mid-1980s, I haven't always consistently utilized the mechanic of Morale—especially when I was younger. So that's the first thing that came to mind when thinking about resolve. Morale is effectively the enemies' measure of resolve during combat. While players decide whether their characters fight or flee in a given combat encounter, the Morale check is the DM's way to determine whether enemies—or retainers—stick to their guns, or their swords and spears, as the case may be.

In BECMI, the mechanic—presented as optional—is pretty straightforward: The DM tests Morale when a creature (with a Morale of 3-11) is first hit or when it gets down to 25 percent of its hit points. When facing a group of enemies, the group's Morale is tested when the first death occurs in a given combat and when half of the enemies are no longer "free to act." (i.e., dead or otherwise restrained)

Some people don't like Morale checks. Some do. And the idea continues even to more recent editions of D&D as the Will saving throw, the Morale check's modern implementation. In some recent OSR (Old School Revival or Renaissance) games such as Swords & Wizardry, Morale checks might not come into play. 

I quite like Morale. For the most part that's because, in older game systems, combat encounters aren't necessarily balanced or optimized for the level of the characters. (Characters really should run away, hide, or avoide combat more than they do.) Applying some degree of chance to whether enemies resolve to see a given combat through to its logical conclusion introduces a little bit of what I might consider natural balance. That can be helpful if players try to bite off more than their characters and parties can chew. It also makes the enemies a little less automatic, their behavior less able to be assumed. We mustn't treat it as rote that enemies will always engage in combat, or that they'll always stay once engaged in combat.

So, hurrah for the Morale check. What are some other ways that players and DMs can exhibit or test resolve? In addition to the Will saving throw mentioned above, some game systems include character skills such as Resolve or Willpower.

The idea also comes into play when considering alignment, which I also think is often under- or misutilized. In many cases, alignment is something that players set and then forget—it doesn't really come into play except, perhaps, in the case of clerics, and most players I've shared time and table with don't really apply their characters' alignments as a roleplaying guide or aid.

Such behavior comes at a risk. In BECMI D&D, "Alignment Changes" are addressed explicitly in the Dungeon Masters Rulebook:

Sometimes a player forgets (or ignores) the alignment of his character, and plays the character incorrectly. You should talk privately with the player about the problem, and encourage the proper play of alignment. ... If the problem continues after you have warned the player more than once, you may tell the player to change the alignment of the character to the different alignment actually being played. A penalty may be applied at this time, such as the loss of one level of experience, a valued item, etc. (p. 14)

That's interesting to me. When selecting a character's alignment, how committed to roleplaying that alignment are you as a player? The same question could be asked about other aspects of a character such as the personality traits, ideals, bonds, and flaws of D&D 5E. Many players treat those aspects as fluff or roleplaying aids, but they offer another opportunity to exhibit resolve. What kind of rewards and penalties could come into play for successful commitment to those aspects of a character? Should they involve any kind of mechanical boon or bane? Perhaps rewarding inspiration is enough.

It's not quite the same thing, but various game systems kind of address this through mechanics such as Shadow Points (The One Ring), sanity rolls (Call of Cthulhu), and fear checks. Even though some people don't like fear checks, such tests of resolve seem to be another way to apply Morale checks to characters, who might not always be smart enough to get out of a situation while the getting's good.

And finally, let's consider the role of the stories we tell in roleplaying games. In many games, a campaign or session is built on the acceptance of an assignment, a quest, or some other form of adventure hook. Ideally, and perhaps in most cases, players, characters, and parties see such responsibilities through to completion. What if you can't, won't, or don't? If a party isn't resolute enough to see an assignment through to its end (say, the rescue of a tailor's daughter, as in the Swords & Wizardry game in which I'm currently active), what happens? Is there a cost or impact to failure or abandonment? (Other than death, that is.)

That might depend on whether the characters own up to their failure or abandonment—do they return to their patron to inform them, or do they just avoid that town for a period of time, hoping that people will forget?—but other mechanics could also come into play to reward the application of resolve—narratively. Consider reputation, fame, and honor mechanics such as those in GURPS Social Engineering, HackMaster, and HERO. This Mindstorm article offers additional examples—and its own approach.

There seem to be multiple ways that the games we play already support and reward resolve exhibited by our characters. There also seem to be additional ways that players could consider applying resolve—in terms of roleplaying and character development—and that DMs and GMs could bring to bear while guiding their parties through a game's world and the stories it propels. Similar to how I'm newly committed to Morale checks when appropriate, I hereby resolve to continue to explore the steadfast application of alignment, personality traits, and reputation.

A Historical Artifact: "What Is Dungeons and Dragons?" by John Butterfield, Philip Parker, and David Honigmann

What Is Dungeons and Dragons? by John Butterfield, Philip Parker, and David Honigmann (Warner, 1984)

This 1984 mass-market paperback was a delightful find, as well as a charming—if slightly befuddling—read. Originally published in England two years prior, the book was written by three teenagers attending the boarding school Eton College. At the time of its initial publication, the authors had been playing Dungeons & Dragons for five years and had started the “Strat. Soc.”—a school club—to play the game with other students and friends. What a windfall this book project must have been to such students—even if they didn’t make a bunch of money on the book deal. Certainly a bit of egoboo for such young writers.

The book actually answers the question of its title on the cover: “A fantastic game of magic and sorcery! The fastest growing game in the Western World!” And Warner Books considered the book a game book rather than a broader pop culture title, promoting additional books in the end pages, including Games for the Superintelligent, The New York Times Crossword Puzzle Dictionary, and M.A.S.H. Trivia: The Unofficial Quiz Book. Dungeons & Dragons, while in a growth phase, was not yet the cultural force it remains today.

Inside the pages of the book, the authors divided writing duties by section, “[r]ather than write every word by committee.” The book is organized in chapters that concentrate on an orientation to role-playing games, character generation, dungeon design, adventures, the Dungeon Master, figures and other accessories (including magazines and modules), computers, and other role-playing games and genres—offering a helpful snapshot of the early days of role-playing games. That said, the book largely draws on the then-available Basic and Expert sets of Dungeons & Dragons, as well as Advanced Dungeons & Dragons as its foundation, appropriate given the book’s title.

Examples of gameplay are offered in prose, and one section pairs a narrative telling of gameplay with a description of the game mechanics behind the scenes on facing pages. A sample character sheet is included, as well as a playable mini-module, “The Shrine of Kollchap,” which I hope to DM for a group some day, perhaps using Old School Essentials, if not one of the original systems. (Additional characters might be able to be recreated given details and statistics sprinkled throughout the text.)

I was particularly interested in the survey of the early-1980s role-playing game industry. The book nods to the game’s emergence from miniature wargaming and mentions fantasy miniatures rules such as TSR’s Swords and Spells and tabletop games including Asgard’s Reaper and Skytrex’s Middle Earth. The use of miniatures—and a comparison of different scales—is also addressed. Additional role-playing games of the time include Aftermath, Boot Hill, Bunnies and Burrows, Chivalry and Sorcery, DragonQuest, Empire of the Petal Throne, En Garde!, The Fantasy Trip, Gamma World, Gangster!, Metamorphosis Alpha, The Morrow Project, RuneQuest, Skull and Crossbones, Space Opera, Starships and Spacemen, Superhero 2044, Top Secret, Traveller, Tunnels and Trolls, Universe, Villains and Vigilantes, and others—as well as adjacent board games. At the time, the authors estimated that there were more than 50 role-playing systems available.

When discussing modules available for DM use, the book touches on TSR’s modules, as well as those offered by Judges Guild, such as Caverns of Thracia, Mines of Custalcon, and Survival of the Fittest. The authors also focus on available magazines, showing a clear preference for White Dwarf while mentioning Dragon as “[p]rinted in America … [and] more expensive than White Dwarf.” Additional magazines mentioned include Military Modelling (which incorporated Battle), Ares (the house magazine for DragonQuest), The Journal of the Traveller’s Aid Society, Sorcerer’s Apprentice (Tunnels and Trolls), and Different Worlds (RuneQuest). 

Their treatment of fanzines is relatively dismissive, while citing British fanzines The Beholder, DragonLords, and The Stormlord as the best of the bunch. The authors suggest that fanzine fiction is generally bad and that with fanzines, “you have to take the rough with the smooth, and there is usually a lot of rough. … Fewer publications might improve quality, because all the good articles would tend to accumulate in the remaining fanzines.” Resonating with the discussion of fiction in magazines and fanzines, the book ends with a Bibliography of recommended fantasy literature and adjacent genres—similar to Gary Gygax’s Appendix N.

The book was a very fun read, particularly as a historical artifact of interest to this long-time role-playing game enthusiast. (I’ve been playing since 1983, so I started playing about when this book came out; I was a little younger than the authors.) But its existence intrigues me. I’m not sure why someone would have bought this book then—instead of one of the existing games on the market, perhaps even D&D itself. Throughout the book, the authors discuss prices, even comparing prices, and at $2.95, the book was less expensive than the D&D Basic Set or the AD&D Players Handbook—but you could play neither game, nor any of the others mentioned, after reading it.

It was an opportunistic title, capitalizing on growing public attention toward the game—and role-playing games in general—similar to third-party Rubiks Cube or how to play Pokemon books. I’m also curious why a British book had to be reprinted in the United States—rather than turning to an author or authors closer to home. Role-playing game-oriented amateur press association Alarums and Excursions launched in 1975 and The Wild Hunt was founded in 1979, so there was already a culture of writing about role-playing games in the States. Meanwhile, the fanzine The Oracle started publication in 1982. The book’s origin in the United Kingdom isn’t problematic—mostly evident in the authors’ preference for White Dwarf and its neglect of American fanzines entirely—but the importation is a curiosity.

I wonder if the authors are still around—and if they still huck dice.

Comics Commentary: Dungeons & Dragons tie-in comics

We'll see what we think of this little experiment! Little video comics reviews, unscripted, unedited.

Audio only.

Transcript below...

Stay On, Target

This morning, I went out to run errands and to run the car a little. I didn't really have any errands I needed to run, but I wanted to get out of the house, into another neighborhood, and do something that involved other people—other than my immediate family and coworkers. Such are my needs occasionally, at this stage in the pandemic. It seems that going out into the world is a source of comfort, because this hour sojourn was just that, a search for comfort.

First stop, Burger King, for two egg and cheese croissanwiches and a large coffee. This is total comfort food, and a standby. I've enjoyed them since the early '90s, when you could still get them on "bagels" at the Burger King on the edge of campus in Evanston. I'd do my early morning radio show, go to Burger King afterward before going home, and then start my day—all before 8 a.m. as a college student. Back then, I preferred the "bagels"—and I use the term advisedly—but today they don't offer "bagels" any more, and I quite like the croissanwich itself. Usually, it's an early-morning breakfast before mustering for a Scout outdoor activity with the troop, but since the pandemic, I've popped out maybe two or three times to indulge myself on my own. Secret, silly breakfast eating in the car.

Then I went to Target. This stop had a purpose of sorts. I wanted to send a birthday card to a relative for her sixteenth birthday. We do have birthday cards at home, but this need was my excuse to get out of the house. I trawled the trading card aisle by the checkouts (sparse pickings, but some Ikoria and Zendikar Rising Magic cards), then hit the greeting cards. I tend to like getting superhero license cards when I can to help support such licensing—and thereby, comic books—but there weren't many options for women. Luckily, there was one Wonder Woman birthday card that shared a pleasant sentiment: We are all born to change the world. Happy birthday, Becca! The card is in the mail.

When I go to Target to just walk around—something I sometimes do as an adult, a form of retail pedestrianism, having done something similar with my parents growing up; we'd all go to Shopko or the mall as a family, not really needing anything in particular, just to walk around and browse—I usually spend most of my time in the games section on the edge of toys, and in the CD, DVD, and book section. For the last few years, the games section has been improving immensely, with the inclusion of card games such as Cards Against Humanity, stocking Eurogames and adjacent options such as Catan, Pandemic, and Ticket to Ride.

Meanwhile, the CDs are fewer and farther between. Now down to maybe 15-20 titles, and with LPs now, as well, for the people who like "vinyls," rather than records, I suppose. Today's options included the new live Eagles record, Roger Waters's latest, Bon Jovi 2020, and records by Deftones and Linkin Park. Middle aged man rock and nu metal, with the occasional K-Pop like BTS. But the book section was rocking—and that even with the magazine section no longer existing! 

There are maybe three aisles of books now, mostly focusing on children's books, but with an OK mix of recent notable genre and tie-in fiction, including the Game of Thrones prequel, a Star Wars novelization, and a couple of Stephen King recents. But the coolest thing to see in the book section was the wide range of antiracist writing, including Ibram X. Kendi's book. Given the heightened racial tensions leading up to and following the recent election—and our country's systematic inequality and still largely unaddressed widespread racism—I am pleased that a retail chain like Target is stocking such books. Right on.

I was also pleased to see Dungeons & Dragons in public. Not only did they have the D&D Starter Set and Essentials Kit in the game section, they had the Player's Handbook in the book section! They also had The World of Critical Role: The History Behind the Epic Fantasy. I've never watched Critical Role. I love playing roleplaying games, but the idea of watching other people play roleplaying games for four hours isn't interesting to me. (Although the involvement of voice actors makes it slightly more compelling—like RPG radio; alert, Big Finish!) I don't even really like playing on Roll20 (sorry, gang!)—I'd rather play on RPOL. But the idea of a book about people playing D&D, making their own world, preparing for their own game sessions... that's a book I can get behind. I look forward to reading it.

And it's inspired me to start a new game on RPOL: Darwell's Tower. (I'm also currently running a Conan game, but it'll be wrapping up soon.) This new game will be for four to six characters levels levels 3-4—let's say 5E just for simplicity's sake. If you'd like to join in, I'd love to play online—text only, folks!—with some Media Dieticians. Just request to join on RPOL, and I'll see you there!