Design by Bosler

For those who have been keeping up with The Welsh Piper's design efforts, it will come as no surprise to learn that we are currently revising what will become version three (v3.0) of the Chimera: Basic combat rules.

Also known as Section 5, The Combat Guidelines, Colin Bosler's Satanic Verse, and, most recently, Hey nonny, nonny, is that a scimitar in your pocket or are you just glad to see me?, the combat rules have been, in the least, a challenge. At best, they've been a learning experience on the grandest scale. While daunting, the task of translating combat from character statistics and dice rolls to reality has been, ultimately, a rewarding test of our game designers' mettle.

If you read my last column, you know the playtesting scenario: Matt, Colin, and myself sit around the gaming table (this time joined by Bill). Upon the table sits a gridded mat, neatly marked off in 10' squares. Walls and obstacles are depicted in 3-D through the liberal distribution of Jenga blocks (it's weird—they fit exactly in a 1x3 square area on the mat), and a ton of lead and plastic figures eagerly await their turn to participate in a staged, play-test-driven fight.

Up until two weeks ago, we had been content to confine our efforts to fantasy-based combat. An admittedly deliberate limitation, for we wanted to ensure that our combat guidelines fit "basic" combat with melee weapons and relatively light missile weapons before moving on to more complicated territory. And, as previously written, the combat rules handled this sort of combat very well. When we pitted Dr. Cleric against The Crimson Mutant (shown at right), we ended up with realistic and playable results (I won't reveal who almost won). As far as we were concerned, Section 5 was a model of its type.

Except there was more work to be done. After what seemed like endless play-testing using fantasy types with swords, spears, bows, maces, flails, lances, horses, daggers, bolas, et al., we stopped for a much needed break. During the break, the atmosphere among the play-testers was somehow tense. We all knew what was next: endless play-testing with contemporary and science-fiction types using blaster pistols, bolt guns, disruptor beams, submachine guns, automatic handguns, German-like MG-42s, rocket launchers, and heavy artillery. The leap from the quarterstaff to the laser rifle was inevitable, we knew, but none of us were ready to jump. Fact was, we weren't ready be disappointed if our combat rules couldn't handle the pressure.

We discussed combat actions like reloading weapons, entering melee with a loaded (and unloaded) ranged weapon, opportunity fire, strafing, surpressing and covering fire, grenade blast radii, sniping from rooftops, terrorists taking hostages, how much damage a 747 could sustain, and, the grandfather of all modern combat topics in Chimera-Land, what happens when a combatant fires into melee. It seemed as if there were more questions than answers, and, even more disappointing, it seemed as if Section 5 lacked the mettle required to provide adequate response.

We fell into the trap of comparing modern arms to mediaeval weaponry: range, impact velocity, exit wounds, kinetic energy against resistance, reload times, arcs, trajectories, rates of fire, and effective targeting. There were arguments, but they were spirited and informative. Unfortunately, we weren't getting anywhere, and after an hour, people were rapidly approaching their need to depart the gaming table. At the time, the whole thing seemed pretty discouraging.

Then, a resounding cry came up from the masses. Even now, I don't know if it was Bill or Matt or Colin who said it, but the word from on high was simply, "A crossbow is not a shotgun."

We all stopped, considering the absurdity of the statement. Of course a crossbow was not a shotgun. But then the simple truth of that six-word sentence sunk in. A crossbow was not a shotgun. We had been approaching the problem from the wrong direction by trying to base our modern weaponry relative to mediaeval counterparts. All of a sudden the task of umpiring modern and futuristic firefights became far easier. With a renewed spirit, we racked up the fodder for a sci-fi battle royale.

Out came the plastic Star Wars™ figures for a fight. A big fight. Stormtroopers on dewbacks, Imperial officers, and a few Imperial marines against a host of outgunned, outnumbered, and under-equipped Rebel troops. Blaster rifles against blaster pistols, a few thermal detonators, a tripod-mounted blaster cannon, and an ion battery thrown in for fun. Surely this would be an extreme test of Section 5's flexibility.

And while we had fun playing about, it wasn't long before we determined that, in fact, Section 5 had a great many holes. No time for opportunity fire, no time for sniping, no time for laying down covering fire to allow allies to advance. But (and this is big) we figured out where the problems with Section 5 lay.

So here's the laundry list of guidelines to improve: taking opportunity fire against any target that crosses the shooter's line of sight when the shooter has a round ready to fire; sniping from improved positions against stationary opponents; determining when a combatant can reload, how much time it takes, and what happens if he is caught in melee with a loaded or unloaded ranged weapon; the effects of firing into melee; how cover impacts an attacker's ability to shoot successfully; how to lay down suppressing fire to pin down opponents; how to determine accurate damage from blast radius (area-of-effect weapons); how a crossbow is not a shotgun.

Keep a look-out for the revised Section 5, due out (Bosler willing) by 25 November 2000.