The power curve

 There's a lot more to the power curve of old school D&D than just being able to take on bigger and tougher monsters as the party levels up. Newish players and DMs might be forgiven for thinking that way, but they'd still be wrong. In this post, I'm going to look at the different dynamics that emerge over the course of an old school-style campaign, and then compare that to what happens with a lot of the "innovations" of new school play. First up, though, we're kickin' it old school!

Low-level play is a game of stark contrasts and sudden death. Randomness can turn victory to defeat, or vice-versa, in the blink of an eye, and the players' primary challenge is to minimize its effects as much as possible through careful and clever play. 

New player characters in old school D&D are fragile. Most have a fair chance of being slain by a single hit from a 1d6 attack. Even if you use the popular house rule of allowing new 1st-level PCs maximum hit points for their class, two hits will likely do them in. (If you DO use this rule, well... you're taking the first step down the new school path, which we'll get to below.) For now, let's assume you play the game as written, though, which means, depending on class, level, and Constitution adjustments, most PCs will have 3-6 hp, but some may have as few as 1, and a very lucky fighter or dwarf who's rolled 18 Constitution might potentially have as many as 11. (If you're not fudging dice, that's a 1 in 1,728 chance -- 1 in 216 for that 18 Con, and 1 in 8 for max hp roll. But I digress.) Most of the monsters they'll be facing are similarly fragile: 1 HD or less, most with a single attack per round dealing around 1d4 or 1d6 damage. 

This mutual fragility means that a pitched battle with equal numbers on both sides could easily go either way, and there are likely to be casualties on both sides. In other words, even a skirmish with low-level monsters is a gamble. Hell, even a single monster could get lucky, if it wins surprise or initiative, and take someone out before it goes down to the party's superior numbers. What this all means is that low-level parties have to be very, very careful about getting into fights. They can't just expect to plow through everything in their path; anything even approaching a fair fight on equal terms is to be avoided like the plague. The name of the game is wit and guile, not hack and slash. Get the loot with as little violence as possible. The idea of ending an adventure with a "boss fight" is downright laughable, besides being an affront to true old school sensibilities. 

Fortunately, in old school play, there are no mandatory combats; indeed, no mandatory encounters or actions at all. The party can negotiate with those goblins, bribe that gnoll, avoid the giant rats. They don't have to defeat the evil priest and his skeleton minions in a climactic set-piece battle to "win" the adventure; they can just make off with whatever treasure they can lay their hands on, and the evil priest lives to fight another day. 

Medium-level play is a game of careful resource management. Hit points grow much faster than damage, so as characters gain a few levels, they can take a few hits without too much risk of dying right away.  Fights with low-level monsters are unlikely to result in any PC fatalities, but with magical healing still fairly scarce, and natural healing being very time-consuming, even a few hit points of damage is consequential. Attrition is Enemy Number One. Just because you can win a fight with all hands still standing doesn't mean it's trivial to do so. Fighting every band of orcs you meet, or not, could be the difference between being able to take on a dragon and capture its hoard of treasure, or having to retreat because the party doesn't have enough hp and spells left to allow a reasonable chance of victory. In short, medium-level parties are coming into their ability to take on bigger and tougher encounters, when they choose to do so. Lower-level creatures, while not being able to seriously challenge the party on a per-encounter basis, are nonetheless still very relevant to the overall calculus of an adventure. Leveling up allows for a richer experience, as the characters become able to take on tougher creatures, and the lesser ones slide into the roles of supporting antagonists. Discernment and discretion are still very much necessary.

High-level play shifts resource management and danger from the personal to the domain level. Instead of worrying just about running out of hit points and healing spells, high-level play adds a focus on settlements, strongholds, armies, and alliances. Ordinary bands of orcs or ogres, even trolls and dragons, are not existential threats to the characters' lives so much any more, although they can still pose problems of attrition. Marauding armies of orcs, incursions of scores of dragons, barbarian hordes, legions of undead, and the mundane but ever-present specter of war with human rulers threatens the PCs' lives and status indirectly, by threatening the realms and organizations under their command or stewardship. In practice, play often involves the characters dealing directly with truly epic threats -- an ancient dragon, a terrible lich-lord, an arch-demon -- while simultaneously deploying domain resources to contend with their legions of minions. The primary antagonists can threaten the PCs directly, while their forces threaten the PCs' domains.

Now, what happens when we introduce some common measures of newer editions? There are two main ones that throw some unexpected wrenches into the equation: increased hit points and an abundance of healing and resource recovery options, like the long and short rest mechanics, healing surges, etc.

In low level play, the primary effect is to shift the curve forward, mostly eliminating the period of focus on personal survival under radical uncertainty. Combined with the additional healing and spell recovery options, it encourages an increased emphasis on combat -- not only are characters a lot more likely to survive any given combat, it's also a lot easier for them to go into the next one with no lingering effects from the previous ones. 

At mid-levels, things get even wonkier. An adventure can easily become a series of disconnected combat vignettes rather than a strategic game of extended resource management. This renders low-level monsters almost pointless. Any encounter that doesn't, in and of itself, credibly threaten the PCs serves no purpose. Attrition just isn't a thing in any serious way. Any minor damage the party takes is erased immediately after. Spells can often be recovered with some sort of rest mechanic, too. In the same vein, there isn't really any sense of accomplishment for avoiding encounters, dealing with them in non-combat ways, or devising clever strategies that bring them to a quick close while conserving precious resources. If lesser monsters are included at all, it's as a pure power fantasy for the players, not part of a larger strategic challenge. No, encounters need to be challenging on a par with the player characters for them to be meaningful. The ultimate upshot of this is that, rather than evolving a greater strategic richness as the PCs gain in power, the game is merely a treadmill. Low-level monsters are rotated out in favor of stronger ones. 

High-level play might actually be least affected -- assuming new editions even properly support it, which I'm not at all sure about. Big hit point totals and abundance of healing are less impactful when we're talking about deploying armies, engaging in diplomacy, and building fortifications. When the lesser creatures, in their great numbers, are left to underlings to deal with directly, the party facing only the creatures of legendary might makes more sense. There's still a certain loss of essential vulnerability; the strategic element of throwing some mid-level monsters at the party adds depth, but even trolls and wyverns are little more than comic relief at this point.