In the Mouth of Madness

"Go on in, it's okay. You can see him."

The Dungeon Master was frozen at the door. He was nervous for what he'd find on the other side. But that was his player in there. His friend. After a moment's hesitation, he stepped inside. Just ahead, there were the bars of a secure cell visible. He could hear the Rogue's voice. He was saying something, something unclear. The nurse saw that the Dungeon Master was unsure, and so she stepped inside with him.

"Rogue, you have a visitor. Your Dungeon Master has come to see you."

The Dungeon Master crept further and saw through the cell bars. On the other side was the Rogue. He was pale and trembling. His arms were bound and his surroundings were padded. Their eyes met, but there was no recognition in the Rogue's gaze. He just continued muttering.

"It doesn't even give the length. Not in feet, not in meters, not in squares, nothing."

"The length of what, Rogue?" asked the Dungeon Master.

"Why are those words capitalized? Why are so many words capitalized?"

It was no use. He wasn't talking to them at all. He wasn't in the same room as them, in the same world as them. The Dungeon Master choked. It was too difficult for him to see. His friend of so many years, now a total stranger. The Rogue had changed.

It wasn't very long ago that the two of them were at the table, playing a game with their friends. 

There they were, in a frenzied melee against a gaggle of goblins. Swords swinging, arrows flying, spells blasting. And the Rogue had an idea.

"You said there was a big bucket of grease in the corner, right? Like, for cooking?"

"Oh yeah, totally."

So the Rogue turned to the Fighter. Together they coordinated a couple of actions. First, the Rogue spilled the grease all over the center of the room, covering the floor. He and everyone else ran for the door before the Fighter then dropped his torch onto the ground behind them. The Dungeon Master described the grease erupting into flame, figured that 2d10 damage would be a reasonable amount for each goblin to suffer, and then made a big thing out of collecting spare d10s from everybody so he could roll it all at once and really emphasize just how devastating a tactic this was.

Before the end of the night, the other players had already brought it up again and again, recounting how it went down with laughter in their voices.

The session now wrapped up, the players headed out the door one by one, speculating about the cliffhanger ending and their next moves. The Rogue stayed behind to help the Dungeon Master pack up, collecting miniatures into a tackle box and gathering stray cans.

"Hey, have you heard there's a new edition of D&D coming out?" the Rogue asked.

"Oh, well, sort of."

"Yeah, sort of."

"Right, yeah, I dunno. I was happy to switch the last few times. I just remember it feeling so... rigid and daunting, before."

"Hahaha even just switching from Pathfinder to 5E felt like starting a whole new hobby somehow."

"Oh my god dude there were was so much crunch. Remember skill points?"

"Or flanking?"

"Or all the different combat actions there were?"

"Oh jeez man I think I still have the chart printed out in my character sheet folder somewhere."

"Yeah... but I dunno now. I took at a look at some of the new stuff, and—"

"Yeah?"

"...I just don't feel like switching this time. Not anytime soon, anyway. I'm still happy to keep playing 5E for awhile longer, I think."

"Yeah, no, I think that's how we're all feeling, too."

Time passed. The Rogue was away from his party, but not away from D&D. He was journeying through YouTube, jumping from video essays to reviews to interviews to, yes, even comments. And there was one video title that laid the perfect bait: "5th Edition is Not D&D"

…I'm talking about true D&D. This isn't how it's supposed to be played. Every session is just combat combat combat. Where's the exploration? The imagination? The freedom? "Only WotC-official content is legal for play." Bite me.

The Rogue was a bit confused. It didn't match up with his own impression of 5E. But who was he to question this stranger's experience? All the same, he couldn't help but think that it seemed more like a Dungeon Master problem than a system problem. Actually, what it really sounded like is that this stranger had a bad time playing in an Adventurers League campaign. That would make sense.

And soon enough his journeys took him to RPG Twitter. Scrolling through hot takes, promos, commissioned character art, vague-tweeting. And again, one caught his eye.

I'm convinced that the only reason anyone could enjoy 5E is by having a masochistic obsession with doing math. +1 modifier, -1 modifier, number go up, collect the right feats to create the best combo. It's a game made for the worst kind of power-gaming minmaxers, and the DM has to spend 30 hours a week balancing each fight or else the whole thing falls apart.

The Rogue rolled his eyes. His group had been playing for years, and they certainly weren't crunch-obsessed minmaxers in his eyes. He had never so much as glanced at a theory crafting thread before. What terrible table did this stranger play at that left them like this? He prayed that they would never find themselves in the presence of a rulebook for 3rd Edition or Pathfinder. Hell, if they had ever even actually read the 5E rules, then they'd know it replaced nearly every modifier with advantage and disadvantage instead. Not to mention that feats are an optional rule you can just choose not to use. What a clown.

And soon, his journeys again took him elsewhere: the forums of old. Still kicking, still marginally better for holding an actual conversation. Sifting through play reports, DMing advice, shitty homebrew, system recommendations, and on and on. One thread caught his eye:

Honestly the reason I don't like 5E is because it's just a board game. Everything that happens, you just roll dice. It's got way too many rules to juggle, and is totally inflexible. You have a cool idea for how to fight the bad guy? Better look up to see if there's a rule for it. Sorry, no, looks like you're just going to have to settle for another attack roll.

This time, the Rogue took the bait. He couldn't help it. Back and forth. "I don't think that's a very accurate way to describe the rules." "Yes it is, that's literally how the game is written." "No, it literally isn't. I have the book right here."

Your character can do things not covered by the actions in this chapter, such as breaking down doors, intimidating enemies, sensing weaknesses in magical defenses, or calling for a parley with a foe. The only limits to the actions you can attempt are your imagination and your character's ability scores. See the descriptions of the ability scores in chapter 7 for inspiration as you improvise.

When you describe an action not detailed elsewhere in the rules, the DM tells you whether that action is possible and what kind of roll you need to make, if any, to determine success or failure.

-PHB 193 

"Well that's not how anyone actually plays the game."

And there it ended. After all, what could he say to that? "What about my own group? Are you telling me that we don't play that way?" It was clearly a mistake to get sucked in to begin with. The Rogue knew that he was playing the game the way that it's intended to be played, and that was good enough.

That night, the Rogue could find no rest. Even in his sleep, his mind was troubled.

He dreamed of a beach. The dark waves crashed along the shore, and a storm began gathering wind. He looked and saw a figure standing on the sand. Draped in cloaks that thrashed about in the wind, the figure held its arms outstretched and commanded the turbulent sky. It called for the sound of thunder, and the heavens obliged. The Rogue stared, and the cloaked figure turned to face him. It stared back with hollow eyes. Its face was bone.

The Rogue woke up shaken and sweating. The images slipped from his mind like sand, leaving behind only feelings. Sleep would not return to him on that night, or on many of the nights that followed. He didn't know why. He didn't know where it came from. But there was a question now, lingering in his mind. A question that grew and grew.

What did he really know about 5th Edition Dungeons & Dragons?

He needed answers. He had to turn back to the original sources. It's been so long... had he been playing the game wrong? Was it always this way?

The double doors swung open with a creak. The lights flickered, but beams of moonlight poured in from the night. The Rogue ran his hands along the spines of a hundred books or more, searching for that forgotten volume. At last he found it. Here in his arcane study, long hidden from mankind, he kept a heavy and dusty tome, pages yellow with age. On its cover he saw the face from his dream, staring at him once more. Above it were these words:

Dungeon Master's Guide

Cracking it open under the light of his desk lamp, something reached out and grabbed at him. A voice seemed to whisper from its eldritch pages. "Woooorldbuiiiild." No, the Rogue could not allow himself to be tempted by those dark forces. He came here for specific answers.

The internet says that 5E forces you to roll dice to resolve everything, and that it's all character skill rather than player skill. But what does the text say?

One approach is to use dice as rarely as possible. Some DMs use them only during combat, and determine success or failure as they like in other situations.

With this approach, the DM decides whether an action or a plan succeeds or fails based on how well the players make their case, how thorough or creative they are, or other factors. For example, the players might describe how they search for a secret door, detailing how they tap on a wall or twist a torch sconce to find its trigger. That could be enough to convince the DM that they find the secret door without having to make an ability check to do so.

… 

Remember that dice don't run your game-you do. Dice are like rules. They're tools to help keep the action moving. At any time, you can decide that a player's action is automatically successful. You can also grant the player advantage on any ability check, reducing the chance of a bad die roll foiling the character's plans. By the same token, a bad plan or unfortunate circumstances can transform the easiest task into an impossibility, or at least impose disadvantage. 

…

When a player wants to do something, it's often appropriate to let the attempt succeed without a roll or a reference to the character's ability scores. For example, a character doesn't normally need to make a Dexterity check to walk across an empty room or a Charisma check to order a mug of ale. Only call for a roll if there is a meaningful consequence for failure.

When deciding whether to use a roll, ask yourself two questions:

• Is a task so easy and so free of conflict and stress that there should be no chance of failure?
• Is a task so inappropriate or impossible-such as hitting the moon with an arrow-that it can't work? 

If the answer to both of these questions is no, some kind of roll is appropriate. The following sections provide guidance on determining whether to call for an ability check, attack roll, or saving throw; how to assign DCs; when to use advantage and disadvantage; and other related topics. 

-DMG 236 - 237

A far cry from the strict code of law that others had described. But who of the spirit of the thing? The notion of "legality" of content, the maligned status of "unofficial," the dark art of "homebrew"? 

CHAPTER 9: DUNGEON MASTER'S WORKSHOP

AS THE DUNGEON MASTER, YOU AREN'T LIMITED by the rules in the Player's Handbook, the guidelines in this book, or the selection of monsters in the Monster Manual. You can let your imagination run wild. This chapter contains optional rules that you can use to customize your campaign, as well as guidelines on creating your own material, such as monsters and magic items.

-DMG 263

An entire chapter on how to hack the game. Modifying checks, skills, proficiency, backgrounds, even the list of ability scores.

Don't like the initiative method in 5E? Here's three alternatives.

Having trouble thinking of more non-attack actions for martials to do in combat? Here's six more suggestions. Just reading them will train your "rulings over rules" muscle.

Want a more deadly game? Have a death and dismemberment table. Yes, really! In 5E!

Miss morale from the old editions? Don't worry, we've got you covered.

Create your own monsters, your own races, your own spells, your own magic items. Fuckit, create your own classes.

The book was no longer whispering to the Rogue. It was screaming now. The windows of his study were flung open, glass panes rattling in the wind, and the voice of the eldritch tome echoed through the night sky. The voice howled a clear message as loudly as possible: go absolutely fucking nuts with this game.

The Rogue knew better than to leave it there. Everything exists in context. Every text has paratext. All games are collaborative and communal. What did the archives say? Where and how was 5E born?

2008, 2012, 2014. While D&D's corpse lay in ruin, there were some at work returning life into it once more. Though they were strange, maybe even dangerous, their powers of gaming alchemy were without equal. Though none of them knew exactly what it meant, they called themselves a simple title: "OSR."

And what said they of 5E in those days?

"D&D 5e Does 'Old School' Better Than Many OSR Games"

"Use 5E if you're looking to play an old-school-style D&D game but don't actually want to deal with old-school mechanical stuff like class-based To-Hit look-up tables."

"The OSR has gone mainstream. If the OSR stands for Old School Renaissance, it seems the Renaissance is over: D&D, in all of its previous editions, is now how most of us play our role-playing games."

Even Mike Mearls said so: "The concept behind the OSR - lighter rules, more flexibility, leaning on the DM as referee - were important. We learned a lot playing each edition of D&D and understanding the strengths and weaknesses each brought to the table."

At first he felt reassured. "See, I knew I had it right. I remember where 5E came from, where it got all its best ideas, what it's actually like to play." Finally, life could return to normal. He could go back to the way things were.

But of course, more questions followed. Questions burning holes in his mind. Why couldn't anyone else remember? What changed?

Who better to ask than the OSR themselves? He ventured into their subreddit, draped in cloaks to conceal his identity. Every thread, half the comments, all the same complaints that he'd been seeing. They say they prefer other games because they like rulings over rules, they don't like rolling dice too often, and they want to hack their game apart.

So the Rogue created a poll. "Who here has read the 5E DMG?" Days came and went, answers flooded in. When at last he looked at the results, a chill ran down his spine.

No one. None of them have read it.

His head had been buried in the investigation for weeks. There was one claim that bothered him more than any other. It was one he first saw on Discord. "I can't play 5E anymore because I'm just so sick of grid-based combat." The Rogue knew better. That was only a variant rule. PHB 192. It's not even the default. None of the mechanics in the game make any reference to squares. But he kept seeing it again and again. What was he missing?

Just as he had gone to ask the OSR themselves, now it was time to find the other 5E players. Stepping out into the rain, he looked down at a sign out front. Illuminated briefly by a strike of lightning, it said,

Welcome!

WARHAMMER 40,000

MAGIC THE GATHERING

DUNGEONS & DRAGONS

played here

When he stepped inside, he moved past the board games, the card games, the dice, the minis, the Funko pops, and found the gaming room. It had many tables set up and a variety of groups playing. The sign said "D&D 5th Edition" on it. This must be the place.

As he wandered between the tables, observing the wild gamers in their natural habitat, he saw it to be true. Every one of them was playing with a grid and minis. Every table had terrain, tokens, and distance markers. Tuning out the din of shopping in the other room and the rolling of dice in this room, the Rogue listened closely and heard a quiet ambiance. "...Three, four, five, six..." "...One, two-three, four, five-six..." "...Two, three, wait no, uhhh, three, four..." Everywhere around him, the mutterings of a dozen gamers all counting squares under their breath.

Trying not to draw too much attention, he found a group that was taking a short break. He pulled a gamer aside and asked,

"Sorry, I don't mean to bother. I'm, uh, I'm new to D&D. I was just wondering. Why did you all decide to use the gridded map rules for combat?"

"What do you mean?"

"I just mean that, you know, as an optional rule, what made your group choose this option? Who decided it?"

"Optional?"

The Rogue was startled. It was the last answer he could expect. Glancing around, he saw signs of confusion among the other gamers as well. But he pressed on. He needed to know the truth. He asked if he could take a look at their character sheets. Each party member passed theirs over, which he flipped through again and again. They looked different than he remembered. And something was wrong. He could only find combat info. Nowhere could he find Traits, Bonds, Ideals, or Flaws. None of the players had even drawn a funny lil picture of their character in the portrait box.

Wait. That's when he noticed something very strange.

"Hey, you're playing as this Ranger, right?"

"Yeah, it's my first character."

"Why doesn't your Ranger have any of their survival stuff?"

"What do you mean? I get tons of temp HP."

"No, I mean, like, for overland travel."

"Oh yeah, I also get an extra 10 feet to my movement. I'm crazy mobile."

"No no no I'm not talking about combat. I'm talking about exploration gameplay. As in, exploring the wilderness."

"I mean... I get higher bonuses on my skill checks..."

The Rogue's hand trembled. He swallowed hard and dropped the character sheet. He looked around then and was startled. Every player at every table was staring at him now. Just then, the Shopkeeper stepped in. He was also a professional DM, available for hire.

"Everything okay over here?" he asked.

"Yeah, yeah, no problem at all," the Rogue answered. "I just got a question for you, mac."

"What's that?"

"Grid-based combat. You know it's optional, right?"

"Oh yeah, of course I know that. But come on, you can't really play without it. It's the only way to make flanking work."

"...But flanking..."

"What?"

"...Flanking is also an optional rule."

"What do you mean?"

The Rogue opened his tome to page 251 and showed its contents:

OPTIONAL RULE: FLANKING

The Shopkeeper responded, "Wait, where is that from? What book even is that?"

It was the Dungeon Master's Guide. It wasn't just the haters and the old school. No one here had ever read it, either. Even the people who still play this game had never seen it before.

But if none of them have read the DMG...

…then where did they all get flanking from?

The Rogue stumbled backwards a few steps before falling onto the ground, knocking over a stack of board games. The gamers all moved to help, but as soon as they approached, the Rogue recoiled. 

"I...I have to go" he mumbled, fleeing for the exit in a nauseous panic. He couldn't recall quite how he got home that night. Some part of him never did.

It wasn't much later that the Rogue was back at the table, playing a game with his friends. 

There they were, in a frenzied melee against a cabal of kobolds. Axes swinging, boomerangs flying, spell-like effects blasting. And the Rogue had an idea.

"Hey Wizard, your hireling has your scrolls, right? Do you have one for grease?"

"Uh, lemme check... yeah, looks like I've got one."

So the Rogue turned to the hireling. He took the scroll off of him and cast the—

"Wait, can you—"

"Use Magic Device. 13th level class feature for the Thief archetype."

"Oh right, yeah. Sorry. Cool cool cool."

—and cast the spell on the ground in the center of the room, covering the floor.

"...And for my movement, I run for the door. Everyone better come along. Wizard, on your turn, I need you to cast fire bolt on the grease pile."

The table erupted into confusion and turmoil. The Dungeon Master struggled to shout over everyone. 

"Does the spell description say you can do that?"

"The grease spell just says it creates difficult terrain and forces a saving throw!"

"How much damage would that even do?"

"There's no way a grease spell counts as an 'object' for the purposes of fire bolt's target!"

"Wait, is there another class feature that lets you do that?"

The Rogue was bewildered at this response. He didn't understand. What happened to his friends?

By the end of the night, the other players weren't talking much about the session. Well, the Paladin tried finding a Sage Advice on the thing with grease, but the Rogue wasn't interested. His mind had greater burdens.

The session now wrapped up, the players headed out the door one by one, saying their goodbyes. As usual, the Rogue stayed behind to help the Dungeon Master pack up, collecting miniatures into a tackle box and gathering stray cans.

"Rogue, have you heard the discourse online? There's new rules for tying knots in 5E."

What? But... there are already rules for tying knots. The Rogue opened his copy of Xanathar's Guide to Everything, looking for page 78. As he flipped the pages, he began to explain, "See, it's an example of how to make a ruling. It's not really about tying knots, it's for all kinds of—"

"No no not in that book. In the PHB!"

The Dungeon Master withdrew a book that the Rogue didn't recognize and showed him the pages.

The Rogue collapsed, his mind flooded with words beyond counting. Origin feats. Weapon masteries. Epic boons. Keywords. Rules-as-written. D&D Beyond. Virtual Tabletop. 

The Dungeon Master stood in front of his friend's padded cell. He looked away, unable to bear the sight. The Rogue just quietly rambled to himself.

"...It doesn't even mention climbing. The most common use for a rope in the whole game..."

"...A normal person has a 45% chance of failing to tie a knot? What does that even mean?"

"...They already had a rule. No, a ruling. It was a ruling, and it was better than this..."

"...Complete lack of trust in the DM to be able to handle anything just using common sense..."

The Dungeon Master looked back. He grit his teeth and reached out to hold the cell bars. But before he could speak, the Rogue's rambling got louder and louder.

"I haven't changed!"

"I haven't changed!"

"I'm not the one who changed!"

Time passed. For the D&D group, life returned to normal without the Rogue. The DM began looking for a replacement member. The Wizard had told a coworker about his game night, and invited him over one week to check it out.

"What do you guys play?"

"Dungeons & Dragons."

"Oh cool, what edition is this?"

"We play 5th Edition, of course."

-Dwiz