Counting Squares

This is a continuation of the observations I made while watching a D&D game at my local game/hobby shop. There were seven players — one DM, six Players — and all seemed to be having an enjoyable time. At the time I was there, they were in the middle of a battle. The battle map showed four PCs and three man-sized monsters in a melee, and two PCs and another man-sized monster out, away from the group cluster.

I watched the game for about five minutes, and only one Player took a turn in that time. They seemed to be playing 4th edition D&D for the first time (was a couple of days before its release), going through the Keep on the Shadowfell adventure. So part of their slowness in playing the game came from them learning the rules and not knowing their PCs well. I noticed something in their play that I found amazing, in a frustrating way.

The Player of the cleric wanted to use some power that affected the enemies negatively and affected his allies positively. The range was 3 squares, and he counted the area around his mini on the battle map. He explained the ability out loud for all to hear — the negative, the positive, and the range.

“It might not get this guy,” he said about a monster at the corner of the 3 square area.

The DM leaned over and counted the squares of the area. “Yeah, it gets him, too,” he said.

Now, you’d think that would be the end of figuring out the range for this situation, but no. Another Player leaned over the table and counted the area. Then another Player counted. “I don’t think this guy is in it,” a second Player said. “No, he’s in it,” another Player said.

Debate went around the table as all six Players and the DM counted out the range — the Player using the power counted the range twice, and the DM counted the range three times. That’s ridiculous. The discussion went probably 60 seconds longer than the 6 seconds it should have taken because everyone had to check the area on the map and interject their opinion of the range.

Then the Player said what the power did, again. “The monsters take [whatever the penalty is], and all my allies within 3 squares get 5 hit points back every round.”

“What?” the DM questioned. “That’s not right. Let me see your sheet.”

The Player handed the DM his sheet and started bragging about how cool the power was and all the other Players congratulated him on it.

“No, no,” the DM said, “they gain extra hit points this round and then in following rounds if you heal them during those rounds.”

“Oh,” the Player said, a little disappointed. “Okay, then, everyone gets 5 hit points.”

The other Players were happy, and one of them, whose character was well outside the range of the power, said, “All of us?” He and the other Player whose character was outside the range of the power started writing on their character sheets.

“No,” said the DM, “just those within 3 squares.”

“Oh,” said the Players.

Now not only had the Player who was using the power stated two or three times that the power had a range of 3 squares, but both the Players with characters outside that range had counted the 3 squares on the battle map. I don’t think they were trying to cheat, I think they were just caught up in the excitement. But their excitement just complicated the situation further.

And then the power Player corrected himself, “I mean, everyone gets 8 hit points back. Not 5. It’s 5 plus Wisdom bonus.”

“Our Wisdom bonus?” one of the other Players asked.

“No,” the power Player answered, “my Wisdom bonus.”

“Nobody’s Wisdom bonus,” corrected the DM.

“What?” the power Player said. He checked the text of the power again and said, sheepishly, “Oh, yeah. Just 5 points.”

At this point I had to leave the store.

What I witnessed for that five minute turn was pure chaos. Everyone was talking over each other, there were misreadings, misstatements, and misunderstandings. I thought, “My God, that would be torture to try to DM.” [“That” being the game group, not the game.]

I mean, just the counting and recounting and debating the area of effect of that one power was taking such an absurd amount of time and brain power. Watching that group play, I couldn’t see anything fun or interesting about playing D&D. It looked like nothing but a headache to play.

I’m still thinking about what lessons to take from watching that game. One thing I’ve definitely decided is a lesson to remember: when it’s not my turn in the game, stay still and quiet. Don’t add to the chaos of sound and action. Trying to “help” seems to not be so helpful.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com