By now you've probably heard the news. Wizards of the Coast is, in fact, putting together a third edition of the most popular role-playing game ever. Like most of you, I was first introduced to role-playing with this game. Also like many of you, it was back in the days when the cover of the Player's Handbook featured a giant orange statue being robbed of its jeweled eyes by a pair of thieves. A short time later, TSR produced a second edition of the game and I was excited about it. The new rules expanded and improved upon the existing material. My friends and I immediately switched over to this new edition and bought up the necessary books. Sure, we were disappointed at the loss of the monk and assassin classes, as well as some of the useful charts, but the improvements were astounding.
Over time, TSR proceeded to release supplement after supplement. Many of these were filled with creative and exciting information and ideas for the further development of existing material. Some of them sucked. I was okay with this. I bought some of the new books, but ignored most of them. The new rules and expansions were more than enough to satisfy me and the people I gamed with. The possibilities now seemed nearly endless, and everybody was satisfied with what they had to play.
And then it happened. Maybe it was my freshman year of college, maybe it was my sophomore year, I don't remember. What I do remember is this black and red book with a title that read something like: Player's Option: Skills and Cheese. One of the members of my gaming group presented it to me one day and asked, "Can we use this?"
I looked through it. I perused. I hemmed, I hawed, I scoffed. I handed it back later in the day and said, "No."
Why, you ask? Why wouldn't I allow my gaming group to use these new-and-improved munchkin creation methods? The answer is simple: there was nothing new in those books at all. Anything my players wanted to do could be done with the existing rules. Why did we need AD&D 2.1 to modify characters that were already impressive in their own right? Last time I checked, AD&D was a role-playing game. It was a game about characters and stories, not about who had the most unique abilities or the most spells.
Some time later I began to play with my most recent gaming group (now largely defunct). This group was divided on which way to go with the black and red books. One or two of the players (as well as myself) disapproved of the Skills and Cheese rules, but the DM encouraged us to use them. Over the course of gameplay we discovered that the two of us who had created our characters without the benefit of these books performed just as well - if not better - in any given situation. What it came down to, we decided, was what we knew all along: the game is about playing the role, not playing the rolls.
And so, at next year's GenCon we will be spoonfed a third edition of the most popular role-playing game in the world. I expect the slavering hordes will purchase millions of copies, just like they did with Second Edition. Will I go out and buy it? Probably not. For one, I can't find any gaming groups here in this town. Beyond that, I don't really feel any need to contribute any more of my limited cash flow to the sprawling WotC empire, particularly not when I'm quite satisfied with what I have. New rules or not, the game will always be about the same thing: getting into your character and playing it to the hilt. The winners will always be the ones who have the most fun, not the ones who have the most cool abilities.
Now don't get me wrong. If WotC wants to send me advanced copies of their new books for the purpose of reviewing them, then I'm all for it. Free stuff is always good with me, and as the editor of this publication I should be getting lots more than I currently am (read: none). I'll review it, I'll use it, and I might even like it. The question is, will I like it enough to go out and buy my own copy when I have perfectly serviceable copies of both the First and Second Edition Player's Handbooks sitting on the shelf?
|
