Vulnerability as a Feature, Not a Bug

I'm told in modern D&D an injured party can limp back to camp, take a long rest, and wake up fresh as daisies ready for a new challenge. That's not how it works in my old-school Lankhmar game.

Three beginning PCs - a brawler, a failed Casanova, and an abandoned monk - faced off against a beginner's challenge - a guard and his dog. No ancient dragons or legendary monsters here. Just a barrier to theft, with steel and teeth. When the dust settled, all three PCs were badly wounded. In modern gaming terms, they were "bloodied" - more than half their hit points gone.

Here's where the contrast with modern D&D gets stark: in our game, there's no magical healing to get ready for a next mission. No clerics, no potions, no herbs. Characters heal 1 hit point per session played. That means my players are looking at 4-5 sessions without combat before they're back to prime shape. A month of real-world time where they're one bad encounter away from death.

You might think this sounds punishing. But remember, their wounds are abstracted - we're not tracking individual cuts or broken bones. The PCs can still move and act normally. But the abstraction of reduced hit points will create something new: heightened consequences and tension. The players know their characters have become vulnerable.

A digression on old school thieves

Lankhmar is supposed to be a city of thieves. While these PCs don't have a thief class, they are being forced into thief-like behavior. Thief-like stealth isn't a tactic, it's a strategy. It's about PCs avoiding combat entirely because they know just how fragile they are. While I don't want to dwell on modern D&D, my understanding is it treats stealth as just another combat tactic - a way to get advantages like extra damage. When PCs can bounce back from injuries overnight, stealth is optional - a stylistic preference rather than a survival necessity. It's vulnerability that makes stealth a strategy.

Vulnerability is what makes the thief abilities feel as good as magic. The tension between greed and fear creates the core thief experience - you want the treasure, but you really, really don't want to get hurt getting it. Climb the wall, sneak behind the guard, pickpocket his chamber key, check the room for traps, pick the lock on the chest and the mission is almost done. Vulnerability is what makes a successful mission's spoils feel earned.

Looking Ahead

Whether it’s a permanent state of affairs, like the old school thief or a temporary one like my players are experiencing, there's a thrill in playing a PC who knows they're vulnerable, and who has to rely on wit and caution rather than combat prowess. It makes those moments when fighting erupts feel truly desperate - and those successful heists feel absolutely triumphant.

This should change how my players play. After a good session, hopefully each player is starting to feel an attachment to their PC. With diminished HP, every dark alley detour has becomes a threat to survival. Every potential confrontation needs a creative solution instead of combat.

I'm curious to see how they adapt.