Trouble with Words is...

...that they have Meaning. 

Our language exists to communicate ideas. Danger! Affection, and so-forth. Beyond communicating emotion and simple images, we can share ideas and vicarious experiences. The more complex the message, the more it depends on us having a shared vocabulary, however. 

I frequently muse over the game's concept of "Hit Points". The use of hit points in our hobby harkens way back to its inclusion in The World's First Role-Playing Game - those three little brown books I so dearly love. The problem is the concept didn't get explained well - ever. Does it represent meat and bone?, Does a loss of hit points amount to various cuts, bruises and blood loss? Or are hit points just "one's ability to avoid a killing blow" as some grognards have described the concept? In the end, hit points seem to be just a convenient game mechanic, but one that frequently challenges, or perhaps runs counter to our search for verisimilitude. 

It has become common to narrate combat as referees and players engage in what was once termed "melee". Thrust and parry, swing and block, hack and dodge, the combatants attempt to score a "hit" on any opponent in reach or perhaps concentrate their group effort on taking down one foe at a time. Players will announce., "I hit 'em with my axe", then roll the die...

In the game. a successful to-hit die roll is followed by another die roll for damage - what-ever "damage" is beyond the loss of "hit points" is poorly defined. The referee may narrate, "Your blow catches the goblin just below the waist and slices open its belly! The now badly wounded goblin staggers away and collapses in a corner. Another steps in front of you drawing your attention immediately." It all sounds pretty cool, if you don't think too hard on the game mechanics behind such narrative.

Maybe its just me - probably it is - but I am left wondering, "If our goblin started the fight with 3 hit points and the swordsman just scored 2 points of damage, can't the goblin still fight back?" Did he fail a morale check? And if our goblin survives, can a night or two spent recovering in the nest bring him back to his full hit points?

Healing is another term that causes me to ponder and muse. So-called "natural healing" is described in my favorite edition of The World's Most Popular Role-Playing Game as restoring a single lost hit point per day, thereby it implies the kind of healing of wounds that I have some limited real world knowledge and experience with. Magical healing is an altogether different matter because, well "it's MAGIC" and all that implies. 

The game concept of  "to hit" in melee suggests that a success in this dice roll is through skill or luck striking an effective blow resulting in "damage" and "wounds" being inflicted, all of which constitutes actual physical injury. Then follows "healing" which clearly involves the removal of an injured state (at least that is how I see it). All these terms, as they are used in the game, seem to be at odds with reality. (I know it's a game of fantastic fiction, but there is that "suspension of disbelief" thing.)

Certain gamer legends connect The World's First Role-Playing Game with naval wargaming (its co-authors having previously collaborated on "Don't give Up The Ship" naval rules) and their mechanical conventions including armor class (big ships with more armor are harder to penetrate and damage), variable damage (big explosions causing more damage), healing or "repair" of damage, to name a few. Where the analogy seems to break down is the incremental loss of movement and fighting capability associated with a vessel taking damage in naval wargaming and this having no equivalent in the FRP game. (Maybe it should!) 

Words do have meaning and the choice of the words can lead to certain images entering our imagination - that is often the point. 

Think about how the following example sounds:

The veteran spots an opening in the goblin's defense and attacks with success. The goblin's resolve suffers damage and he stumbles backward, fear entering his beady red eyes! Given time to recover, the goblin may return to full resolve points.

If we replace the word "healing" with recover, or recuperate, and rather than saying hit points we speak in terms of vitality, resolve, fortune, or determination, all of which is diminished through damage rolls, I think the believability in the narrative fiction is more to my liking.

Metal weapons, tooth and claw may all be the cause of PC wounds and death, however. If our "vitality" points reach zero, our PC will be out of the fight just as well. Once the melee is over and the other PCs have a chance to regroup, a version of "roll the body" can determine if said fallen PC has a physical "wound" or is only knocked about and may therefore return to active adventuring after a short period of rest and recovery. 

"Have a seat, friend, and take a swig of this ale, here. You'll feel yourself again shortly and we'll explore what's beyond that next door."

Inglorious PC death is a frequent criticism of more "realistic" versions of our adventure game, but for me the prospect of this fate adds that bit of suspense, "dander" that makes the game worth while. I have heard it said that at its core, D&D is a game of chance where players gamble with their PC's lives in hopes of winning imaginary power and wealth. Of course a "deadly tone" may not be to everyone's liking. In my saner moments, I sometimes wonder why I even worry about the game feeling "real" when it involves anthropomorphic animal player characters? It's just a silly game, after all.