Offensive Damage Factors Compared

One thing I noticed when I added Fudge July 4, 1993 Version to the Fudge Rules page is that the suggested offensive damage factors for muscle-powered weapons have changed over the years, and neither match my own preferences (q.v.). For instance, in the Fudge July 4, 1993 Version, Section 4.72, Objective Damage System, we have:

+0 for no weapon, no Martial Art skill.
+1 Martial Art skill at Fair or better, no weapon.
+1 for small weapon (knife, etc.)
+2 for average-sized weapon (sword, axe, spear, bow, etc.).
+3 for large weapon (polearm, battleaxe, etc.).
+1 for sharp weapon (additive with other weapon damage).

This suggests (appropriately, in my opinion) that damage for weapons begins at +1. This makes intuitive sense, as I have argued before. What may be more controversial for some, however, is that an unarmed combatant with reasonable martial arts training is equal to an armed combatant.

Things take a strange twist in the Fudge 1995 Edition where, in Section 4.54, Sample Wound Factors List, we find this:

-1 for no weapon, not using a Martial Art skill.
+0 Martial Art skill, or for small weapons (blackjack, knife, brass knuckles, sling, thick boots if kicking, etc.).
+1 for medium-weight one-handed weapons (billy club, machete, shortsword, epee, hatchet, rock, etc.).
+2 for large one-handed weapons (broadsword, axe, large club, etc.), or for light two-handed weapons (spear, bow, etc.).
+3 for most two-handed weapons (polearm, two-handed sword, battleaxe, etc.).
+1 for sharpness (add to other weapon damage: knife becomes +1, shortsword +2, broadsword +3, greatsword +4, etc.).

First, the categories have been pulled back by a factor of 1: weaponless unskilled attacks that were +0 are now -1; small weapons or weaponless martial arts attacks that were +1 are now +0, and so on. Second, large weapons have been divided into two categories consisting of large one-handed weapons and light two-handed weapons. Third, another category has been added consisting of "most two-handed weapons." This version has remained unchanged in the Fudge Expanded Edition and the Fudge Anniversary Edition.

Essentially, some "average-sized weapons" (sword, axe, etc.) as they were formerly described have become "medium-weight weapons" (shortsword, hatchet, etc.), and some have been upgraded to "large one-handed weapons" (broadsword, axe, etc.) or "light two-handed weapons" (bow, spear, etc.). The additional category of "most two-handed weapons" (polearm, battleaxe) would have needed to move up to +4 in the earlier version to accommodate the expansion of "average-sized" into "medium weight" and "large one-handed"/"light two-handed."

The good news from the second version is that weaponless unskilled attacks have been lowered to -1, which represents a significant penalty. The bad news (for some) is that weaponless martial arts attacks are still equal to small weapons. Even worse, however, is the fact that weapons start at +0, which is a little hard to grasp when one considers one's chances in a fight with or without a weapon. A weapon, no matter how ordinary, ought to confer some advantage, and an offensive damage factor of +0 fails to convey that.

In both versions, there is something that seems a wee bit off-kilter, and my own version is an attempt to correct that sense of rules wooziness. Here it is with new parenthetical examples:

-1 unarmed, untrained (unsuited for combat)
+0 unarmed, trained (competent martial artist, Eastern or Western)
+1 small weapon (knife, brass knuckles, sap, etc.)
+2 medium weapon (shortsword, nightstick, tomahawk, etc.)
+3 large weapon (broadsword, mace, axe, etc.)
+1 sharpness
+1 two-handed (greatsword, polearm, etc.)

So, a greatsword, being a large, sharp, two-handed weapon, would have an ODF of +5, whereas a shortsword, being a medium, sharp, one-handed weapon, would have an ODF of +3. It makes hand-to-hand combat deadlier, but this can be offset if necessary by altering the wound tracks (a very easy task).

[Originally posted in Fudgery.net/fudgerylog on 20 February 2012.]

Offensive Damage Factors Considered

One of the things I like about Fudge is the simplicity of determining how much damage a mêlée weapon causes. I've seen it boiled down to its bare essence in a variety of ways, but I think this version is the best:

-1 unarmed, untrained
+0 unarmed, trained
+1 small weapon
+2 medium weapon
+3 large weapon
+1 sharpness
+1 two-handed

So, if a character enters combat, you ask yourself these questions:

If the character is unarmed, is he or she formally trained or self-taught in unarmed combat? (Apply +0 if the former or -1 if the latter.)

If the character is armed, is the weapon small, medium, or large? (Apply +1, +2, or +3 respectively.) If it is sharp, add +1. If it is wielded with two hands, add +1.

Example: A rock is a small blunt weapon (ODF +1). A shillelagh is a medium blunt weapon (+2 medium = ODF +2). A knife is a small sharp weapon (+1 small +1 sharpness = ODF +2). A gladius is a medium sharp weapon (+2 medium +1 sharpness = ODF +3). A longsword is a large sharp weapon (+3 large +1 sharpness = ODF +4). A claymore is a large, sharp, two-handed weapon (+3 large +1 sharpness +1 two-handed = ODF +5).

This can easily be used to extrapolate the damage factors of everyday items such as a bowling ball (medium blunt object; ODF +2), a brick (small blunt object; ODF +1), a spade (large, blunt, two-handed tool; ODF +4), or a sickle (medium sharp tool; ODF +3).

This presents a quandary. Why would anyone choose to learn a specific weapon skill if Brawling can give one the ability to use just about anything as effectively? [Brawling being the skill of untrained fighting, armed or unarmed.] We know that household objects are not as effective as actual weapons, but how can this fact be reflected without complicating the simple formula of which we are so fond? Since the ordinary object is inferior to the weapon possessing similar qualities by virtue of its different design purposes, I think the best way to reflect this is to impose an initiative penalty to the wielder of the ordinary object whenever the two are matched. This would only work if alternating combat turns are being used. If simultaneous combat rounds are being used, one could rule that the wielder of the actual weapon gains a +1 mêlée modifier when engaged against a brawler attacking with a chair or a walking stick or any other object.

I was thinking about this as I was adding the description to the Brawling skill in Optimum Skills for Fudge [see the Ultimate List of Skills instead]. The unarmed combat skills are the only skills for which I have not yet written descriptions, and Brawling, being the most basic of all fighting techniques, is the first I have undertaken. On the table above, Brawling qualifies as unarmed, no formal combat training, and thus provides a -1 offensive damage factor [except when employing an ordinary object as a weapon]. Any other form of unarmed combat requires some amount of formal training and provides a +0 offensive damage factor. Special attack techniques will bestow a +1 offensive damage factor. To keep things simple, I think the difference between most of the martial arts will be style rather than effect, leaving the description of specific techniques to players if they so desire (and providing some examples in the skill descriptions). Certain skills may have exceptions, such as Aikido, Judo, Jujutsu, and Wrestling, which are more focused on disabling opponents than injuring or killing them (depending on the style and the individual practitioner, of course).

[Originally posted in Fudgery.net/fudgerylog on 5 February 2008 and 15 April 2011 as two articles.]

Musical Cues in Role-Playing Games

Robin D. Laws has an interesting article in his Web log about using musical cues in certain kinds of role-playing games, which reminded me of a plan I had for using music and sound effects for some Star Trek gaming. It's amazing how important sounds can be to the atmosphere of a setting. When I imagine immersing myself in the Star Trek universe, inevitably I hear the sounds of automatic doors whishing open and shut, the voice of the computer and the noise of it computing, the electronic bosun's whistle, and the ever present drone of the ship's engines. Whenever anyone enters or leaves a room or uses a device, I want to activate the sound effect. If they have to report to sickbay, I want to hear its distinctive pulse. If a landing party beams down to a planet, I want to hear the transporter, followed by an ominous alien planet theme. Yes, when I play Star Trek, I want to feel as if I am living in an episode.

As far as more functional applications go (in line with the article), it occurs to me that the musical cues for police procedurals Laws describes would be perfect for games such as Stalking the Night Fantastic or Bureau 13 by Tri Tac Games, Strange World The Unexplained by Carnivore Games, or any other paranormal/supernatural/cryptozoölogical investigative role-playing games (or GURPS Cops, come to think of it). I'll certainly be considering it for my own gaming in this genre.

[Originally posted in Fudgery.net/fudgerylog on 18 December 2007.]

Generic Fudge Logo

I made a simple Fudge logo that may be freely used on anyone's Web log, site, or person as a symbol of Fudge fellowship. If used as a link, I recommend linking to a logical Fudge resource site or page, such as FudgeRPG.com or any page that explains what Fudge is. This is not an official logo nor is it endorsed by Grey Ghost Press, Inc. It is merely a badge of loyalty. Use it if you wish.

There are three different variations suitable for white backgrounds (below), and a fourth suitable for black backgrounds (see Logos or Signal Flags in Theoretical Swashbuckling).

Fudge Links Updated

I updated the Fudge Sites page and the Links page on Fudgery.net, removing all broken links. There are now only eight Fudge links and four of them belong to Steffan O'Sullivan's site.

On a related note, if anyone writes or has knowledge of a Fudge-specific Web log, please provide a link in the comments. The Web Log Roll Call needs recruits.

Promoting Clarity in Gaming

To promote clarity in gaming is to promote gaming itself. If one wants to reach others, one attempts to communicate with them. Most game companies do not wish to exclude potential customers, but sometimes their adherence to old habits of convenience (such as the ridiculous overuse of acronyms and initialisms) is more an obstacle than a selling point.

In Deliberate Obfuscation in Gaming, I touched upon the undesired effects of gamer jargon on gaming itself as I see it. Fudge is, I believe, the exemplar of how role-playing ought to be introduced to prospective players. In Fudge, all traits are spelled out, values are described with adjectives rather than numbers, and most terms use plain language rather than arcane terminology. There are very few exceptions, the primary one being the convention of using dice notation, which in the case of Fudge means referring to 4dF for example (where 4 is the number of dice rolled and dF is the type of dice rolled, i.e. "roll 4 Fudge dice").

If I have any misgivings about the way Fudge deals with jargon, it is that it failed to go further. Admittedly, anyone who has ever played a role-playing game knows what is meant by GM, PC, and NPC (that's game master, player character, and non-player character to those who haven't), but it would have been nice if those terms could have been discarded along with all the other unnecessary trappings.

"GM" or "game master" is the non-trademarked descendant of "DM" or "Dungeon Master" (of Dungeons & Dragons fame). As such, it is burdened with some of the same negative connotations that have been associated with Dungeons & Dragons (rightly or wrongly) over the years, e.g. the GM as infallible expert; the GM as the opponent of the players; the GM as liar (E. Gary Gygax's famous advice to DMs about ignoring unfavorable dice rolls made behind the DM screen or rolling dice for the sake of creating suspense come to mind); and, of course, the GM as omnipotent god, or rather, megalomaniac. The abuses by some game participants with the ostentatious title of "game master" have inevitably led to the flight of some players from gaming altogether, and the defection of others to computer "role-playing" games and story games. Consider how different things might be if "GM" had never meant "game master," but rather "game moderator." "Moderator" far more accurately conveys the duties involved — preparing (and sometimes writing) the scenario, organizing the event or session, setting the scenes and describing situations, applying (and being aware of) relevant rules, arbitrating conflicts, ensuring participation opportunities for all players, and faithfully playing the roles of the characters encountered by those of the players. There is nothing in the term "moderator" to encourage or even suggest the despotic behavior adopted by some GMs. As far as newcomers to role-playing are concerned, "moderator" is a more accessible and self-explanatory term, and perhaps a wee bit more mature, too. It promotes not only clarity in gaming, but better playing as well.

"PC" is far more widely associated with "personal computer" and "political correctness" than the gaming term "player character." For the sake of clarity, might it not be better simply to use the term "player character" and dispense with the initialism? Otherwise, if something is supposed to apply equally to PCs and NPCs alike, does one then refer to Cs? In most cases, it is sufficient merely to refer to "characters." Too Much Character, an article from the Authors' Guidelines of Steve Jackson Games recommends avoiding even the term "character" as much as possible, suggesting the use of terms such as "adventurer" or "explorer" or others more appropriate to the genre. This is advice well taken, although I think "character" and even "player character" have usefulness especially in the writing of generic rules. One must take care, however, to distinguish between "player character" and "player," as many role-players are aware.

"NPC" carries neither gaming nor non-gaming baggage. It is purely functional. "NPC" means "non-player character" and there can be nothing confusing about that. Or can there? Is the GM not a player? Or is the GM merely a referee? (It depends on one's style of gaming, I suppose.) Is "GM character" preferable and does it make a difference if it stands for "game master character" or "game moderator character"? Is "moderator character" acceptable? Those are all poor alternatives. If we wish to promote clarity, what is the best way to express the term even to newcomers? If we accept the use of plain language as the best means of promoting clarity, then perhaps we can co-opt terms outside the hobby (just as "role-playing" was, incidentally). Perhaps "supporting character" might be used, or "extra" in the case of characters of minimal importance, or "antagonist" in the case of hostile characters. We already use terms such as "patron," "contact," and "dependent" in many role-playing games, and Dungeons & Dragons made frequent mention of "henchman" and "hireling." None of these terms, however, seem to convey quite the same meaning as "non-player character," which may, in the end, be the least bad generic term for characters played by the moderator.

I usually avoid the PC/NPC problem by referring to "characters" when a rule affects both types equally, and, when it does not, to terms specific to the genre or situation. As a last resort, I use "player character" or "non-player character" rather than "PC" or "NPC." Regrettably, "GM" may be too firmly entrenched to be dislodged in the near future, and I continue to use it in my Fudge writing since it is prevalent in the original rules, but in my own usage it shall always stand for "game moderator" and I would like to see "GM" eventually replaced by "moderator" throughout the gaming hobby and industry. [Edit: I am not averse to "referee" as an alternative. It has an ancient pedigree in the hobby.]

[Originally posted in Fudgery.net/fudgerylog on 9 October 2007.]

Deliberate Obfuscation in Gaming

Sometimes a little issue reminds one of a bigger issue. In this case, the little issue is that of the occasional difficulty of interpreting a role-playing game's attributes so I can include them in my List of Attributes by Game. Sometimes the only access I have to a game is its character sheet, which is often available as a free download on the publisher's Web site. This is problematic if the names of the attributes are abbreviated. Normally, they can be understood easily enough. STR is commonly taken to mean Strength, DEX is Dexterity, etc., but some are not quite as obvious. INT, for instance, is usually Intelligence, but it could also mean Intellect or Intuition. In the case of a game such as Aftermath, WT could be Wit or Weight and WL could be Will or Willpower. This is inconvenient for me, but how does it affect those who are curious about role-playing and are researching it themselves?

The big issue, of course, is the traditional barrier to newcomers entering the hobby. I started role-playing in the early 1980s when the role-playing hobby was entering the zenith of its popularity. At that time, there were several factors that made the hobby very attractive to me. First, I was fascinated by the concept of playing a game that was essentially a regulated and cerebral form of my favorite activity as a child: playing make-believe. The second factor that attracted me to role-playing, once I became exposed to it, was its arcane terminology. If one could refer to a creature's AC and HD, or cite a spell's requirements for somatic components, or mention alignment or level, it made one feel clever. I was suddenly no longer just a miserable adolescent misfit, but an enlightened member of a secret brotherhood privy to obscure knowledge. It was satisfying to know a code that was incomprehensible to others.

As much as I initially enjoyed that aspect of the hobby, I must confess that its existence delayed my enjoyment of it. Before I knew what role-playing was, my brother had begged our parents to buy him the Monster Manual because he liked the pictures. For my brother in particular, this book was a dream come true: page after page of illustrations of one exotic creature after another. We could understand most of the descriptions, of course, but the list of statistics beneath each heading was a mystery indeed. I would read them with no comprehension at all of AC: 6 or Treasure Type: D or Damage: 2-12. What on earth? These things mean nothing whatsoever to an ordinary person.

After I had started playing Dungeons & Dragons, I would see articles about Traveller in White Dwarf and puzzle over streams of numbers that accompanied character names, such as 759C6B. Although I consider the hexadecimalization of character attributes interesting now, at the time it was nothing but a deterrent even to investigating the possibility of playing Traveller, especially since it was only available in shrink-wrapped little black books and box sets at the time, thus preventing any elucidation.

For a subculture in search of self-identification and the presentation of an aura of high intellect and obscure knowledge, gamer jargon seemed to serve a purpose. In reality, it further isolated gamers from the mainstream, made them objects of ridicule, made it more difficult to comprehend for newcomers who might wish to learn more about role-playing, and generally served no useful purpose.

I think the new wave of role-playing games ought to embrace an aesthetic and moral principle long promoted by the Fudge role-playing game: Make things easily understandable in plain language. Where jargon cannot be eliminated, minimize it. The emphasis, after all, ought to be role-playing, not drafting legal documents. Deliberate obfuscation in gaming only hinders the hobby.

[Originally posted in Fudgery.net/fudgerylog on 2 October 2007.]

Simplicity Equals Power

Fudge is simple. Simplicity is, in fact, its chief strength. Its simplicity is key to fulfilling one of its major design goals: to be "a vehicle for good role-playing" as opposed to rule-playing (see Steffan O'Sullivan's Fudge Designer's Notes). The crux of understanding Fudge and taking full advantage of its strengths is the proper use of the "single, easy to remember, non-chart-bound game mechanic to handle all actions that need resolution" at its core. How one approaches and implements this rule will affect how easy it will be to learn, teach, and play the game.

It all begins with the trait ladder. The trait ladder can be altered to suit one's taste, but for the purpose of this demonstration, let us concern ourselves with the trait ladder offered in the rules:

Superb
Great
Good
Fair
Mediocre
Poor
Terrible

Traits, whether they are attributes or skills, are rated with an adjective on the trait ladder above. Ordinarily, a character performs according to his or her trait level. If, however, there are extenuating circumstances that render an action more or less challenging, then the GM can require the player to make a roll. Fudge dice, when used in an attribute roll or skill roll, modify the character's trait level. That is, one's trait level denotes one's average performance under ordinary conditions. The dice result modifies this to produce one's performance under other conditions (the rolled degree).

What this means in play is that a player reads his or her attribute or skill level on the character sheet, locates that level on the trait ladder, and moves up or down on the ladder in accordance with the result of the dice roll (anywhere from -4 to +4). If Player Character A has Good Coordination and rolls +1 on 4dF (four Fudge dice), then the character performed one level better than Good: Great. If the same player rolled -3, then the character performed three levels worse than Good: Poor. All of this can be done without thought of mathematics, which means it is easier to stay in character and easier to focus on the adventure.

Knowing the difference between two rolled degrees in an opposed action (the relative degree) requires a minimum of math. Merely count all the levels between the low rolled degree and the high rolled degree including the high rolled degree. That's the relative degree. For example, in a duel, Player Character A is Great at Fencing and Player Character B is Fair. Player A rolls 0 for a rolled degree of Great. Player B rolls -1 for a rolled degree of Mediocre. Starting at Mediocre and counting up to Great, the relative degree is 3. There is no addition or subtraction required, just the ability to count. There may be minimal math if one adds the relative degree to an offensive damage modifier (weapon strength) and subtracts a defensive damage modifier (armor) to arrive at a number that corresponds to a wound level, but even this is optional, and in any event it would be the GM's job to calculate (or fudge), not the player's.

The elegance of this core game mechanic and its power to produce results without the intrusion of out-of-character game terminology is what makes it the best role-playing game to introduce to prospective role-players as well as veteran gamers who want to spend their scarce free time actually role-playing rather than flipping through rule books.

Some like to dispense with the adjectives and resort to using numbers only (i.e. Terrible is -3, Fair is 0, Superb is +3, etc.). The problem with this is that they lose sight of what the game mechanic is meant to achieve. Instead of using the roll to modify a trait, they use the trait to modify the roll. At that point, all rolls become, in fact, situational rolls, and all traits are reduced to being mere modifiers instead of values in their own right.* Aside from the unnecessary imposition of calculations, there is nothing added to the game. It doesn't make the game faster or easier. It does, however, detract from role-playing. I am not one to infringe on anyone's right to play the game any way they like, but it makes it less Fudge to me, and it fails to play to the game's greatest strengths. At its best, Fudge is the most accessible role-playing game ever devised, and that is because it was designed from the beginning to facilitate role-playing by eliminating or minimizing anything that distracted one from the role-playing experience itself. New players instinctively grasp the concepts behind the core game mechanic. Confusing situational rolls with trait rolls unnecessarily complicates a simple (and effective) mechanic and risks frustrating new players. Embrace adjectives! (They're Superb.)


* Situational rolls are meant to determine events that are unaffected by the actions of player characters or are only minimally affected. The GM rolls 4dF, optionally applies some modifiers based on the situation, and reads the result as a rolled degree. (See 3.1 Action Resolution Terms and 3.7 NPC Reactions.)

Just FudgeRPG It

Did you know that "FudgeRPG" (sans quotation marks) is the recommended label or tag for your Fudge-related material on the Web? Whether it's a Web log entry or a Web page itself, including "FudgeRPG" as a label or tag in the case of the former or as a keyword in the page's head in the case of the latter will make your material easier to find by anyone searching for the role-playing game rather than the confection. If you post on Twitter, use "#FudgeRPG" to ensure that you reach your intended audience.

The preceding was a public service announcement for the Fudge community.

Aside: Admittedly, this may seem silly if your entire Web log is devoted to Fudge, but it will make each article you post more visible on search engines for those who are searching specifically for Fudge role-playing game material. Of course, it will quickly overshadow everything in your tag cloud if you use one, but that is as it should be.

Fudgery.net Celebrates 10th Anniversary

I am belatedly observing the 10th anniversary of my dedicated Fudge site, Fudgery.net. In March 2004, I registered the domain name and procured hosting for what would be (I hoped) a destination for gamers interested in the Fudge role-playing game. My goal for the site was (and continues to be) to give something to the Fudge community in return for all that it has given. Its energy, creativity, and generosity over the years since the game's inception in November 1992 has been enormous, and I hope Fudgery.net and Creative Reckoning can contribute to the wealth of Fudge material on the Web. My personal wish is to see a rebirth of Fudge-related Web logs, which I would be happy to include in my blog list. The possibilities of Fudge are endless. Explore them!

I really ought to eat some fudge in celebration of the occasion...