So, we're probably about two months out from the next iteration of the Monk in the One D&D (or "2024 Core Rulebooks") playtest, given that we just got playtest 7 (a playtest that, while it was sort of conservative and undid a lot of changes in previous playtests, nevertheless wound up being one of the least controversially approved UAs in the playtest so far, if general internet consensus is to be believed).
I've talked about mechanical ideas for how to "fix" the Monk. I put that in quotations because I think you can play a Monk and have lots of fun with it. And I think that the internet can create feedback loops. YouTube optimizers will condemn a subclass or class or other mechanic as brokenly unusuable when it's like 10% less powerful than another option, when most players will, I think, be willing to accept that variance if it means getting to live out the fantasy they're going for by picking a class.
Game design can come in a spectrum of foregrounding mechanics versus foregrounding the story or thematics - what I usually refer to as Flavor.
Sports are basically purely mechanical games. There's no "plot" to be resolved in a game of football. But sports are also games in which the skill to play the game is not just a strategic understanding of the mechanics and how to use them to outwit your opponent, but also to physically condition yourself (or your players) to perform better than your opponent. I can decide, as a pitcher, if I want to throw a curveball or a fastball, but that tactical decision is only part one. Then I have to execute on it.
But games, going back to some of the earliest forms, like Chess, have almost always involved some kind of flavor. You could imagine a game identical to Chess that simply has arbitrary names assigned to its pieces, or purely functional one (a "diagonal" piece rather than a "bishop"). But instead, Chess becomes this abstraction that represents the clashing of armies and kingdoms in warfare.
As an RPG, D&D is of course much, much heavier on the flavor side of things. And that brings me to the point of this tangent: that mechanics need to reflect the flavor in a game like this (I'll note that a game like Magic the Gathering is one that has a ton of flavor to it, but is much more focused on the mechanical side of design by its nature).
And that brings us to this: what is the flavor of the Monk?
That's going to vary from person to person, but I think there are cultural touchstones we can all look to and agree are a big part of it.
While much of D&D's classes take inspiration from some mixture of Arthurian legend, Tolkien, and Conan the Barbarian, all being Western cultural artifacts (though Conan's stories did include people from other ethnicities, such as the Wizard Akiro, played by Mako,) the Monk is very much inspired by East Asian culture, and the traditions of Kung Fu from China.
In the West, our main exposure to these traditions grows out of the Hong Kong cinema of the 1970s, with Bruce Lee emerging as the quintessential star of the Kung Fu movie. There are many other performers who followed in his path, such as Jackie Chan, Donnie Yen, Jet Li, and Michelle Yeoh.
I will here put a big caveat that this is not an area I've studied extensively, and not a culture I'm from.
Some traditions of kung fu, most notably Shaolin kung fu, use the practice of martial arts as a spiritual exercise, part of a larger tradition of meditation and philosophy, and so the image of a Shaolin monk, and of a monastery as a place to practice martial discipline, emerges from this kind of tradition.
Practically speaking, one of the things that distinguishes a Monk as a warrior is their lack of armor. Martial arts demonstrations and competitions typically have practitioners wearing simple clothing that allows for ease of movement, and the emphasis on agility and control over one's body, along with speed, as the way one defends oneself.
While kung fu certainly includes the use (and mastery) of many kinds of weapons, many traditions also include or emphasize fighting unarmed. In some cases, the belief is that the spiritual and philosophical underpinnings to the physical control grants extraordinary effectiveness, but in a more simple way, there is care and discipline that allows the focus of strength and power to, for example, break wooden boards with one's bear fists or feet (something that is often part of a demonstration).
Especially in a game system where other non-magical (or not pure spellcaster) classes are all about using various kinds of weapons, the Monk stands in as the master of unarmed strikes (though the new Brawler Fighter starts edging in on that territory).
And here, we come to one of our first mechanical goals: A monk should be able to be as effective without using any weapons as other martial classes are with a weapon.
Now, tying into the unarmed fighting, we've also touched on how a Monk is typically seen without wearing any armor.
But beyond that, there's another trope out of kung fu movies that we should examine: our martial arts heroes are usually fighting multiple enemies at a time.
If you look at most fight scenes in these movies, unless the hero is facing off against a single powerful villain or henchman, usually they're facing off against a whole crowd of them (actually, Jackie Chan played one of the nameless swarming henchmen in Enter the Dragon, getting fought off along with like a dozen other guys by Bruce Lee). The way that they accomplish this varies depending on the fighting style or just heroic style - whether through clever improvisation or just utter mastery of their skills. (Chan in particular is famous for grabbing props and using them as weapons to fight off crowds of foes).
So, here, I think we get another mechanical goal: despite not wearing armor of any kind, our Monk should be able to hold their own against crowds of enemies, and be able to stand their ground.
Now, the kung fu movies I've mentioned that serve as major inspirations to the class are usually only fantastical in how profoundly better a fighter their heroes are than the many henchmen they churn through. In Enter the Dragon, Bruce Lee never loses a fight, and if memory serves (it has been a while since I watched it,) only even really gets hurt when he faces off agains the main villain.
But D&D being a fantasy game, the supernatural aspect of the Monk can be emphasized. I won't really weigh in on metaphysical/philosophical underpinnings of real-world martial art philosophies, but in a D&D world, the supernatural should absolutely be part of the Monk's capabilities. It won't necessarily take the form of spellcasting (though I wouldn't be opposed to a Monk subclass with Eldritch Knight/Arcane Trickster-style access to spellcasting).
There's less of an obvious mechanical outlet here, as it really depends on what kind of supernatural effects can be achieved.
Still, I think we've now arrived at the primary things that the Monk should be able to do - they should be able to fight effectively without any weapons. They should be able to fight effectively on the front lines without wearing armor. And they should be able to wield some kind of supernatural force attained via their philosophical disciplines.
This post isn't here to suggest ways they should accomplish those goals - I've made plenty of other posts that suggest tweaks or new features in an effort to do so.
But I thought it would be worth getting the bare bones of what the class should be in mind, and then seeing what needs to stay, what can go, and what needs to be added, and what needs to be altered, to fit with these goals.
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