Heroes of Adventure, and the Lie of Stats

Heroes of Adventure could easily be called a bit of a D&D clone, but just because it’s high-fantasy doesn’t make it a copycat. The world-building is certainly D&D-like, and your heroes can be the ubiquitous wizards, warriors, rangers, thieves, and clerics; but the system uses a die-size system instead of a flat d20 system. Spells are limited through schools, rather than classes: if you learn Air magic, you can cast Air spells, no matter if you are a cleric, druid, or magi. Religious characters gain Piety Points based on their behavior, which can be spent on divine favors like granting re-rolls or raising the dead.

But I’d like to talk about the skill system: rather than a flat bonus, a character rolls a skill-die ranging from a d4 to a d12 when attempting a task related to that skill. The result is added to a d20. An interesting idea, making skill-bonuses more random, but what I particularly interesting about Heroes of Adventure is the skills they include; You have your standard skills like Alchemy, Lore, and Command; but you also have skills like Strength, Will, and Fortitude.

Heroes of Adventure doesn’t have Stats.

Players might raise their eyebrows at this, but I think it’s a brilliant choice. See, I have a problem with stats: They’re superfluous.

They are! Don’t shake your head in confusion, they’re downright useless. Pointless. A waste of time. They’re as big a waste of time as encumbrance rules. Get rid of them. Cast them out. Throw them to the dogs, and good riddance!

“Really? Care to explain that sizzling hot take?” Why yes, I believe I shall.

What are stats?

Well, Socrates, Stats are (usually) numerical representations of a persona’s innate natural ability. For example, strength is a common stat: We can imagine an RPG where a persona might use their physical strength to overcome an obstacle — a large rock, for instance. But how can we tell how big of a rock a persona can lift? Is lifting this rock going to be easier for my persona, or yours? It will be easiest for whichever is stronger than the other, so we compare the numerical value of their “Strength stats” to find out.

Great, Euthyphro, thanks. Only, isn’t that the same thing as a skill? I mean that’s exactly what a skill is: a representation of how much “better” my persona is at this than that. Fundamentally, the only real difference I can find is the following; Stats try to dictate what your character is, while skills dictate what your character can do.

Oh dear, we’re getting into Racial Bonuses territory, aren’t we?

Yes, we are. And I’m not going to masterfully wrap up this heated debate in one brilliant rhetorical stroke, or spend ages rehashing tired old arguments. Instead, I am going to say “you do you!” You want to have a world where “species dictates ability?” Go for it. There are dragons flying around, magic-users creating ice-storms, and no one ever has to go to the bathroom. If we’re breaking from reality that sharply, I have a hard time getting riled up over one more unrealistic choice.

But I have to ask, then, what happens when a halfling challenges an orc to an arm-wrestling match?

Can a halfling beat an orc in an arm-wrestling match? Why? Because if the halfling has been lifting weights their whole life and fought in hundreds of battle campaigns across the land, then I’d have a hard time saying they wouldn’t win in an arm-wrestling match against an orcish clerk.

But now it’s a character’s backstory influences their strength, not their race. Sure, we could say that all Orcs are strong because their culture is violent and they spend all day fighting each other, but then how does this world handle an orc brought up in human culture? Are they still automatically strong?

Strength is not innate. Never was, never will be.

“Sure it is! After all, while skills are great for things that require practice, you can’t really practice bashing down doors or having a good memory. There are things are innate to our beings. Some people are just naturally stronger than others.”

And how did they get that way? Not by sitting on their duffs, waiting for their natural genes to build muscle mass. You do practice bashing down doors and having a good memory. There is nothing that a Stat does in a game that a Skill cannot do equally well; in fact, this setup makes for far more interesting characters. We know what someone who spent all their time learning swordfighting but lacks strength training looks like, compared to one who is perhaps less practiced in sword-swinging but spent more time lifting weights.

Because Strength is a skill. Consider how much advice people have on the process of strength training. Even if you spent your whole life just lifting rocks, you’ve learned the skill of using your knees instead of your back. Stats take practice, and the simple act of practicing elevates someone “above” those who don’t.

Now you may think that some people are just naturally smarter or stronger than someone else. I say: so what if someone is genetically predisposed to bulk up when lifting weights? That doesn’t mean they don’t have to lift weights, just that it’s easier for them to see a benefit. More time to admire themselves in the mirror or work on their perfect hair. Does that really need to be translated into a game-mechanic?

Some interesting things happen when you start playing around with this idea. Troika!, for instance, only has one three stats. Well, one, technically; Luck and Stamina are resources rather than actual “stats.” The third, Skill, is everything your character tries to do. It’s just one catch-all number that — if you’re not house-ruling it — ranges from 4 to 6. Anything you do in the game, no matter the situation, is based on adding skill-bonuses to this number.

But even this oversimplification raises questions: notice how the Skill stat goes from 4 to 6? Why not just have everyone’s Skill be 5? By having a Skill spread, Troika! assumes that there will be some characters who are not as inherently good at “doing things” than other people. Some people are 4s, others are 6s.

And sure, someone with a +2 in sword-fighting can bring their 4 up to a 6, but that means that someone who is a 4 with +2 sword-fighting is just as good at sword-stabbery as a 6 who has no training in sword-fighting at all.

You might be okay with that. Troika! is certainly okay with that. On the other hand, Cairn and Knave, for example, are not, and do away with skills altogether, which ultimately is little different than Heroes of Adventure doing away with stats — just providing fewer of them to track.

But that’s just one end of the spectrum: I think there are other options out there. For example, if “all orcs are strong,” then that’s an immutable narrative property of the world, correct? I mean, that’s sort of the point of folk-stories and fairy-tales: beings that are more metaphors and symbols than realistic species in a balanced ecosystem.

In these cases, an Orc’s strength is a narrative conceit, not a mechanical one. A halfling can’t beat an orc at arm-wrestling. Doesn’t matter how many bench-presses the halfling does, the orc will always be stronger because of their “orcish strength.” Fairy Magic isn’t resisted by saving throws, but by moly flowers or cold iron. Goblins are defeated by milk or a child’s song, not 2d6 piercing. What are a Orc’s stats? You’re asking the wrong question; Orcs are Strong, you don’t have to figure out how much stronger, you need to have a plan to overcome their “Orcish strength.” This is a valid choice too.

We can even apply these rules to our players. Characters solve different obstacles in different ways, right? Warriors can lift portcullises and pull stiff levers, why not say that Wizards can’t? At the same time, soldiers can’t solve puzzles or remember ancient texts from the library. Outright limits to what a character can actually do is just as valid whether it’s casting spells or opening doors.

But that’s a different ethos. Again we find ourselves at the division between how the game is played, and how the story is told.

Next time, I’d like to talk about a specific stat, and the problems that arise from it.