The old D&D rules used the Intelligence score to
indicate how many languages a character knows. Popular clones like Swords
& Wizardry make Intelligence even more powerful in this respect. Basically,
smart D&D characters know a lot of languages. The list of languages suggested
typically includes not only the languages of player character races, like Elvish
and Dwarvish, but also monster races like Goblin, Giant, and Dragon tongues.
Likewise, being half-elf or half-orc or half-whatever becomes meaningful, when those half-breeds speak both parents’ languages. They are now truly intermediaries between their two heritages, and it matters. Only such characters should have those multilingual capabilities, unless there are interesting background stories.
None of this makes any sense, even remotely. Language acquisition has little
to do with intelligence. It is true that some people with disabilities of
various kinds, which perhaps could translate into D&D terms as a low INT
score, may have a harder time learning languages, especially literacy. But the
key to learning languages is not to be smart—unless you learn them all at a
university—but to start young and to practice regularly. It shouldn’t really matter what your Intelligence score is. If
you are exposed to a language early, or immersed in it for a long period, you
will learn it. Did your rogue who speaks Dragonish grow up in a house full of
chatty dragons? Probably not! Did your cleric who speaks Goblin have a hobgoblin
nanny as a child? No, because your cleric is still alive. If you didn’t spend plenty
of time with those creatures, you don’t speak their language.
Maybe, you say, your character learned only to read their language. You did not need dragons around for that. But
that would require substantial schooling. When did you do that? Did your character go to school to learn to read Dragon writing? And what did
those monsters write, from which you could learn to read it? Where are the Dragonish
novels and volumes of Bugbear poetry? Ah, you say, that’s the point: it’s easy
to learn them because they are simple languages of simple-minded monsters? There
is no Hill Giant literature, just graffiti scratched on rocks. In that case,
why does it take a high INT score to learn these languages? Why doesn’t
everybody pick up their primitive signs lists before they head into the Hills
of the Giants?
In some D&D rules, thieves suddenly sprout the ability to
“read normal languages,” even if they can’t speak those languages, as in Swords
& Wizardry at third level. So, killing monsters and collecting treasure
from dungeons teaches thieves (and nobody else) literacy in a variety of
languages? What!?
Now, some of you may say that this is just a fantasy game so
it’s not that important to be realistic. But think. Do you allow experienced heroes
to fall a hundred feet onto solid stone and walk away without a broken bone,
brushing the dust off their shoulders? Or do you allow player characters to
haul ten thousand gold coins around without slowing their pace? Oh, wait, if
you play D&D, you probably do that, too…! Okay, let’s try this: Do you
allow normal swords to spray flowers and fighters to sprout wings at will?
That’s how “realistic” these language rules are, when your smart level-one Paladin
can make conversation with Elves, Dwarves, and Trolls, all in their own
languages—unless he grew up in a town populated by Elves, Dwarves, and Trolls.
But the average-intelligence characters who grew up in the same town can’t
speak any of those languages!
Languages known should be a function of character
background, not Intelligence. This can be turned into a random background table, if you
want, but whatever you do, the languages a character knows should be a major
factor in designing background stories for your characters. Every language known
points to some substantial life experience and contact with a different kind of
people or creature.
If you ditch the rule on INT and languages, there are many
interesting things you can do instead. A character who lived on a frontier with
a humanoid population, where interaction with those others was common, may have
learned some of that non-human language. This can be a really fun
background feature. Adopt this as something unusual and you have an interesting, and rare, character trait. “Borg was kidnapped by kobolds
once. That’s how he can understand their chattering! But he sure has the scars
to show for it.” “Where Jimli the Dwarf grew up, the goblins and dwarves had a
truce for a while. That’s how he learned to talk to those green creatures.”
Likewise, being half-elf or half-orc or half-whatever becomes meaningful, when those half-breeds speak both parents’ languages. They are now truly intermediaries between their two heritages, and it matters. Only such characters should have those multilingual capabilities, unless there are interesting background stories.
The other front requiring work is in the variety of human
(and non-human) languages. There is the weird idea that every intelligent
species has just one language. Why do all Goblins and Hobgoblins, etc., speak
the same language: the Goblin tongue? If there are goblins all over the Known
World, why don’t they have different languages as humans do? Tolkien, who was a
philologist, got this one right when he wrote that orcs had lots of mutually
unintelligible languages, even more so than humans. If your character can speak
Goblin, can she speak with all goblins in every country and on every island?
And then there’s the Common Tongue. As convenient as it is
for DMs to allow one language to have universal currency, there is no such
thing. Yes, there are lingua francas in the world. But the point of a lingua
franca is that most people use it as a second language. Often, speakers of a
lingua franca can’t express themselves fully in it. They use it only for essential
communication.
In my games, there is no such thing as a generic Common
Tongue. The region in which the game begins has a tongue that is common there,
and I sketch out the foreign tongues that one may be likely to hear and learn
in this region. These are all other human languages. As the game develops, the
possibility of going to foreign countries comes up, and that creates an
exciting new experience for players. Non-human languages are not an issue
because I discourage non-human player characters to begin with. If the non-humans are there,
they naturally become go-betweens and representatives of their different
non-human cultures. Being non-human then has more meaning in the group.
Along these lines, there is a huge improvement if we flip from
old-school D&D rules forward to the 5e games of today. In 5e, characters know languages according to
their background. Perfect. And the Common Tongue in 5e is a concession
to the need to have characters of different races in communication with each other.
As many qualms as I have about the core mechanics of D&D, which continue in
5e, this is one of many examples in which OSR is not superior because it’s
fresh and simple and original. It’s an area in which OSR is just primitive and
undeveloped and not well thought-out, plain and simple. Original here means undeveloped.
How much more exciting a game can be in which the player
characters encounter foreigners with whom communication is difficult! The need
to find a trustworthy interpreter can lead to all kinds of adventure possibilities.
If player characters spend a long time in a vicinity and interact with the
locals, they can pick up some ability with a new language. Again, languages
known becomes a feature of the character’s story. It makes a character
interesting.
A little thought about languages in your game can open some
fun possibilities for character development and setting design. Try it!
"In some D&D rules, thieves suddenly sprout the ability to “read normal languages,” even if they can’t speak those languages, as in Swords & Wizardry at third level. So, killing monsters and collecting treasure from dungeons teaches thieves literacy in a variety of languages? What!?"
ReplyDeleteI don't know S&W, but in AD&D thieves spend a lot of time carefully examining things so as to avoid losing a finger when they open the thing to steal the treasure. It's a class skill/ability they use and they improve in. There's a good chance a thief will learn what the markings "ACHTUNG! GEFAHR! FEUER!" signify after a few encounters.
Meticulous scrutiny and attention to detail — that'd help.
Garumoo, it makes perfect sense that adventurers would learn to understand signposts like that. That is different from reading languages in the normal sense of the term. If it's just learning to recognize that the sign says, "GO BACK," though, why do thieves (and not others) specialize in it? In any case, I like your rule interpretation a lot.
DeleteTrue, there is a bit of hand-wavey generalisation and abstraction involved (who wants to track all that nitty-grit?). Also, in 2e the rule as described isn't the same as reading languages in the normal sense...
Delete“At 4th level, the thief has enough exposure to languages that he has a chance to read most non-magical writing.”
“[The] DM can rule that some languages are indecipherable to the thief”
“A successful die roll means the thief puzzled out the meaning of the writing. His understanding of the document is roughly equal to his percentage chance for success.”
As to not others? I imagine thieves to be of the mindset to observe, surveil, inspect, scrutineer, and so on. Warrior types might well smash-first-ask-questions-after, priests just go on faith, and wizards work from a position of theory (vs less so pragmatism).
All good ideas, in my view!
DeleteI never read 2E. The explanation there makes more sense.