Be Seeing You Next Year

I lack the time to write anything poignant and insightful at the moment, but suffice it to say that although 2014 did not conclude quite the way I had planned it, I'm planning for 2015 to be even better. Seriously, though, I have Superb expectations.

Just fudge it!

Fudgery.net in Limbo

I regret to inform my readers that Fudgery.net is in a temporary state of Limbo. Due to circumstances unrelated to the hobby (including, but not limited to, my move to another city in early September), I could not afford the cost of Web hosting for the site. It is now offline. I hope to find a second or even a third job in the very near future, however, and the return of Fudgery.net will be a very high priority. Hopefully, the data will still be intact. Meanwhile, game on!

Reconsidering Default Skill Levels

I have reached the conclusion that having multiple default skill levels is not desirable in my Fudge games. I had formerly believed that the standard default skill level of Poor (and skill difficulty of Average) was fine for free-form games and creating characters on the fly (with certain exceptions), but I now think it's best for detail-oriented games as well.

The use of multiple default skill levels not only creates unnecessary complexity, it establishes an objective perception of skill difficulty that is frankly unrealistic. The difficulty (or ease) of mastering a skill is relative to the person undertaking its mastery. It is, in a word, subjective. What is easy for one person is hard for another, and the only logical way of reflecting this fact without resorting to mind-boggling complexity is to give all skills the same default level: Poor. A character's natural inclinations, meanwhile, are evident in those skills in which the character excels (namely, by choosing to assign levels to them during character creation or development).

The only other default skill level I would retain would be Nonexistent for those skills that are clearly beyond any possibility of practicing without prior training or research due to their esoteric (and possibly supernormal) nature. For the sake of simplicity, I would make the starting level of all such skills Terrible. Even skills that might be considered mundane in their natural environment (where their default level is Poor) could be exotic and incomprehensible to the denizens of another environment (where their default level would be Nonexistent).

This is a case where simplicity does the best job of simulating reality. Now I need to decide whether to revise my Optimum Skills for Fudge page [Edit: see Ultimate List of Skills instead] to reflect this epiphany... [Edit: I did.]

[Originally posted in Fudgery.net/fudgerylog on 16 March 2011.]

Notes on Skills 2

Exactly two years and a day ago [from when this article was originally posted], I posted my Notes on Skills [reposted here], and quite coincidentally I have been thinking about skills in Fudge again. The most important thing to remember about skills is that they need to be self-explanatory, especially if you desire to comply with one of the major design principles of Fudge, which is not having to look things up during the game. This coincides with another design principle: not being required to translate the information on one's character sheet into one's native language in order to comprehend it. A skill ought to be instantly recognizable for what it is and generally what capabilities it confers.

Some may balk at the notion of skills taken at face value. They want precise rules governing the use of any skill. They want rules about range, duration, frequency, extent, effort, efficiency, etc. They want to know precisely how well a skill is executed upon a Fair result, or a Good result, or any other result. They want to know exactly what their characters can and cannot do when they use that skill. It all misses the point.

What is the point of trying to pin down the "objective" nature of a Great result when one doesn't even possess that skill in reality? What game designer can claim to be an expert on every skill or area of knowledge? With the exception of very few games (early The Morrow Project is the only one that comes to mind), no player is expected to know a character's skill well enough that he or she can describe every action accurately and in detail. (One of my favorite Call of Cthulhu experiences certainly would not have been possible. I played a motion picture director/producer, one friend played my character's doctor and longtime chum, and another friend played a jazz trumpet player from New Orleans. I'm not a filmmaker, my first friend isn't a doctor, and my second friend plays piano, not trumpet — and he isn't from New Orleans.) If we all had to be qualified in reality to play the characters we portray in a game, then role-playing would have died swiftly and quietly in the night a long time ago.

This, then, is my defense of a list of skills with real world definitions that the casual reader can understand, rather than an itemization of bonuses, penalties, timetables, restrictions, and prerequisites. If the skill is listed on a character sheet, the player should know instantly what it means unless the player doesn't know what the word means in the real world. That is why my skill list has brief definitions. (And the Big Chart has no definitions.) There are a few exceptions, but they are infrequent and brief enough to be easily memorized, and they are entirely logical.

That being said, I still haven't defined the martial arts skills, but rest assured they will be easy to understand, easy to remember, and they will make sense — as soon as I can get around to it...

[Originally posted in Fudgery.net/fudgerylog on 18 February 2009.]

Notes on Skills

Skills are a major component in defining many role-playing games. They usually tell the player not only about the limitations of his character, but about the limitations of his entire species. If a game doesn't have an existing skill for Multidimensional Bungee-Jumping, generally you can't attempt it. Games like Fudge, however, have the benefit of default skill levels. Unless it is explicitly stated that the skill cannot be performed except by characters who have purchased the skill or otherwise acquired it (i.e. it has a default of Nonexistent), then any character can attempt to use that skill at its default level (usually Poor).

This is wonderful for free-form games where there is no set skill list or where the skills are broadly defined. The Fudge rule of thumb is that all skills default to Poor. There is no need to worry about the relative complexity of a skill given the culture and technology of one's world or whatnot. If you purchase a skill, you have it at the purchased level; if you didn't purchase a skill, you can always attempt it as if you possessed it at the skill level of Poor.

I enjoy playing free-form Fudge, but on some occasions I like to play detail-oriented Fudge. For this reason, and also because some players prefer to choose their skills from lists rather than allow them to spring Athena-like from their own heads, I have compiled the Optimum Skills for Fudge (Original) list, a universal list of skills including default skill levels, skill difficulty, and skill descriptions. This information (sans the descriptions) can also be found at the Big Chart of Optimum Skills for Fudge. [Edit: The aforementioned list and chart have been replaced by the Ultimate List of Skills.]

Free-form games without skill lists are fun because they encourage players and GMs to create skills that would never be found on any list. Games with broad skills are fun because character generation is a faster process and many capabilities can be encapsulated by a single concept. Games with professions as skills are perfect examples of this. My own skill list, because it is intended to serve a different purpose (the desire for greater detail), necessarily concentrates on somewhat narrower skills. Technically, I would classify them as medium skills. Most, if not all, of the skills can be defined more narrowly by applying Areas of Specialization or Areas of Further Specialization. These are entirely optional, and GMs are free to specify that certain skills must be taken with an Area of Specialization, other skills must be taken with an Area of Further Specialization, and still others may be taken as is whether they have Areas of Specialization or not. Furthermore, GMs (and players) may invent their own Areas of Specialization or Further Specialization, or they may, of course, invent entirely new skills (something of which I highly approve).

The thorniest problem in creating a skill list is determining the default level and difficulty of each skill. How does one measure the difficulty of Chemistry compared to Skiing, Painting, or Fluency in Navajo? "Apples and oranges" is an understatement. There is simply no truly objective way of doing it. I have two solutions for detail-oriented Fudge. The first solution is that any skill created on the fly has a default level of Poor and a difficulty of Average unless it is a highly unusual and/or unnaturally powerful skill, in which case it has a default level of Nonexistent (unless the GM really wants the player characters to have a chance to try them).

The second solution is my skill design rule of thumb:

• Basic survival and labor skills have a default level of Mediocre and a difficulty of Easy.
• Physical and trade skills have a default level of Poor and a difficulty of Average.
• Academic skills have a default level of Terrible and a difficulty of Hard.
• Highly unusual and/or powerful skills have a default level of Nonexistent and a difficulty of Very Hard.
• Skills that no one without special training or previous study could possibly perform have a default level of Nonexistent, but their difficulty may vary.
• Most unarmed combat skills (except Brawling and Wrestling) have a default level of Nonexistent, but their difficulty may vary.

Obviously, there are some inconsistencies (I wouldn't consider Bicycling to be a basic survival skill nor a typical labor skill, but I think it could be considered Easy by most people who have grown up with them). I know there are people who would consider any physical skill to be Hard or Very Hard, and there are others who would consider almost any academic skill to be Average, but as an admittedly sweeping generalization about the world's population, it works for me, and I hope it might work for you, too (if you need it).

In the end, you can always fudge it.

[Originally posted in Fudgery.net/fudgerylog on 17 February 2007.]

Re-Linking Notes on Skills

In the next several days, I will be reposting some articles about my skill lists for Fudge. This will seem to be a contradiction to what I have been posting lately as well as the way I now prefer to play (see Exceptional Traits for Fudge), but some prefer a style of play closer to GURPS or Basic Role-Playing, which entails extensive lists of skills. In the future, the lists will link to the articles in Creative Reckoning instead of Fudgerylog.

Exceptional Traits for Fudge

[Exceptional Trait Fudge is a modification of Plain Trait Fudge, Descriptive Traits for Sherpa, and Quasi-Descriptive Traits for Sherpa. It grew out of my desire for a version of Fudge stripped of unnecessary complexity, but with a modicum of structure not offered by the subjective version of the rules. What follows is a variant midway between the subjective and objective rules tempered with wisdom inspired by Sherpa. The goal of this variant is to encourage creativity, speed up the character creation process, and simplify character information so players can play their characters instead of their character sheets.]

Exceptional Trait Fudge is a variant of Fudge that utilizes neither attributes nor skills, just traits. It is a system that emphasizes exceptions to the rule, and this is reflected by the absence of predetermined trait lists. Everyone has an equal possibility of accomplishing anything unless they are exceptionally well-suited or ill-suited to the task.

In addition to traits, there are four other elements used to describe a character: advantages, disadvantages, complications, and motivations. These have no effect on the cost of traits, but their inclusion encourages the player to consider a character's background and psychology both when the character is created and during play.

It is presumed that the standard trait ladder and dice-rolling conventions of Fudge are being used, but these are, of course, optional. Action resolution, supernormal powers, combat, wounding, and healing are conducted as per standard Fudge or any variant desired. The two areas in which Exceptional Trait Fudge differs from standard Fudge (and could even be interpreted as Alternate Rules) are Chapter 1, Character Creation and Chapter 5, Character Development.

Exceptional Trait Terms

Trait: Any ability rated according to the trait ladder. Vocational and avocational traits are groups of skills related to an occupation or pastime. Inherent traits are general abilities. Inherent traits include Mind, Body, Spirit, and Reflexes.

Exceptional Trait: A specified trait; any trait listed as being possessed by the character. An exceptional trait is either exceptionally high (Fair or better) or exceptionally low (Poor or worse).

Unexceptional Trait: An unspecified trait; any trait not listed as being possessed by the character. Unexceptional traits are Mediocre and represent the default level of all traits.

Advantage: A benefit to the character.

Disadvantage: A detriment to the character.

Complication: A plot hook.

Motivation: A specified drive or goal.

In other words, all characters have unspecified unexceptional traits that are Mediocre and specified exceptional traits that are anything but Mediocre.

Exceptional Trait Character Creation

The following steps describe the standard method of exceptional trait character creation:

Step One: Trait Level Allotment

The GM allots a certain number of trait levels to be spent on each character by each player. This may require a bit of adjusting for the genre and the preferred playing style, but it is not necessary to make the number too high. An allotment of 10 or 15 levels is a good starting point.

Step Two: Trait Specification and Level Allocation

The player decides what makes his or her character different, or exceptional, by specifying the character's defining traits. Each trait specified is allocated 1 level, thus raising it from an unexceptional Mediocre trait to an exceptional Fair trait. Exceptional traits may be further increased by allocating additional levels. The player may specify any number of vocational or avocational traits (within allotment limits) as well as up to four inherent traits. Any trait not specified (including inherent traits) is considered Mediocre. Needless to say, one must balance breadth of abilities with the depth of each ability, with the extremes being jack-of-all-trades, master of none at one extreme and idiot savant at the other. If the player feels that there are not enough available levels to describe the character's traits accurately (or if it would be true to the character for certain traits to be deficient), then one or more exceptionally low traits may be specified, thereby gaining 1 additional level for each Poor trait and 2 additional levels for each Terrible trait.

NB: Beyond the allocation of GM-allotted trait levels, the value of any trait level gained is only equal to the value of the trait level sacrificed.

The GM may set limits on the number of traits that may be specified at certain levels. For instance, a realistic setting might have a maximum of one Superb trait per starting character. For a gritty setting, it might even be preferable to have the maximum set at Great (either any number of traits not exceeding Great, or even a maximum of one Great trait per starting character).

Players may also save levels to buy traits during play that might have been overlooked.

Step Three: Advantages

Players may specify one or more advantages for their characters. For each advantage specified, a disadvantage must also be specified. Advantages are optional. (Advantages function in the same manner as gifts, but they cannot be exchanged for trait levels.)

Step Four: Disadvantages

Players must specify one disadvantage for each advantage specified. If they wish, they may specify multiple lesser disadvantages to counterbalance a greater advantage as long as their total effect is equivalent. (Disadvantages function in the same manner as faults, but they cannot be exchanged for trait levels.)

Step Five: Complications

The GM may require that the players list personal complications or plot hooks for their characters. Complications may be entirely negative, or they may have both positive and negative elements, but in any event they must serve to complicate the character's life and lend themselves to potential use as plot devices by the GM. The GM may set a minimum required number of complications.

Step Six: Motivations

The GM may also require that the players list their characters' motivations. This gives both the GM and the player a better understanding of the character, and enables the player to indicate to the GM what he might want for his character in the way of goals or challenges. The GM may set a minimum required number of motivations.

Other Steps

Other steps that may occur during character creation, during play, or between sessions include details of the character's description, background, and equipment or other belongings. Non-player characters important to the character (such as dependents or patrons) may be described briefly or created fully by the GM, the player (with GM approval), or both in cooperation.

Exceptional Trait Character Development

Exceptional (and unexceptional) traits, being neither attributes nor skills, have different costs for improvement. Since characters with exceptional traits generally have fewer traits than those with attributes and skills, and since those traits have a higher default level than most skills, improvement should be more gradual. This can be done very easily by means of the subjective character development system in Section 5.1 and the development through training system in Section 5.3. If the objective character development system in Section 5.2 is preferred, the cost of raising a trait is double the cost for skills of the same level. In other words:

RAISING A TRAIT:
FROM:	TO:	COSTS:
Terrible	Poor	2 EP
Poor	Mediocre	2 EP
Mediocre	Fair	2 EP
Fair	Good	4 EP
Good	Great	8 EP
Great	Superb	16 EP
Superb	Legendary	32 EP + GM permission

Example

Step One: The GM is running a Wild West scenario, so she allots each character 15 trait levels.

Step Two: The GM limits allocation to no more than one Superb trait and one Terrible trait. All other trait levels are unlimited. Player A decides his character will be a gambler named Sam Turnstile with the following vocations and avocations: Cardsharp, Gunslinger, and Charmer. Specifying these traits automatically starts them at Fair, which is a total cost of 3 levels. He envisions Cardsharp as his best trait, so he spends 3 more levels to raise it to Superb. A famous gambler needs to know how to defend himself, so he spends another level to raise Gunslinger to Good. Talking his way into and out of trouble is likely to occur more often, though, so he spends 2 levels to raise Charmer to Great. Thinking about his inherent traits, he reckons his gambler is a knowledgeable man, a veritable Walking Encyclopaedia. He spends 2 levels to specify it as Walking Encyclopaedia (Mind): Good. He's been around and survived his share of inconvenience (to put it mildly), so he spends a level on Rugged Enough (Body): Fair. As for his Spirit, he has many temptations and succumbs a little too willingly, but not more so than any other man, so he's unexceptional in that regard: [Spirit: Mediocre]. He's Quick as a Rattlesnake when there's trouble, though, so he spends 3 levels to specify it as Quick as a Rattlesnake (Reflexes): Great.

Step Three: Through his wanderings, and as a result of his wide interests, Sam Turnstile learned the secret art of Hypnosis, which comes in useful from time to time. Be careful when he asks you to observe something shiny.

Step Four: Such a powerful advantage is Hypnosis that he has two disadvantages to make up for it: Drinks Too Much and Flirts Too Much. Both have caused him a heap of trouble.

Step Five: The GM sets a minimum requirement of two complications. Player A specifies Wanted for a Crime He Didn't Commit as one complication and Shunned by His Kinfolk as the other.

Step Six: The GM sets a minimum requirement of two motivations. Player A specifies three: To Clear His Name, To Strike It Rich, and To Enjoy the Finer Things in Life.

Sam Turnstile, Gambler

Cardsharp: Superb

Gunslinger: Good

Charmer: Great

Walking Encyclopaedia (Mind): Good

Rugged Enough (Body): Fair

[Spirit: Mediocre]

Quick as a Rattlesnake (Reflexes): Great

 

Advantages: Hypnosis

Disadvantages: Drinks Too Much, Flirts Too Much

Complications: Wanted for a Crime He Didn't Commit, Shunned by His Kinfolk

Motivations: To Clear His Name, To Strike It Rich, To Enjoy the Finer Things in Life

I adapted the following characters from other articles to provide further examples:

---

Aurelia Brixton, Spy (20 levels allocated), (q.v.)

Cat Burglar: Great

Jewelry Expert: Fair

Getaway Driver: Good

Acrobat: Great

Martial Artist: Good

Handgun Expert: Fair

[Mind: Mediocre]

Physically Fit (Body): Great

Strong-Willed (Spirit): Good

Highly Coordinated (Reflexes): Great

 

Advantages: Trained as a Secret Agent

Disadvantages: Criminal Past

Complications: Born into a Family of Thieves

Motivations: To Redeem Herself, To Reform Her Family, To Serve Her Country

---

Charles Standish-Reddy, Sergeant-Major (ret.) (15 levels allocated), (q.v.)

Big Game Hunter: Superb

World Traveller: Great

Leader: Good

Pugilist: Fair

Educated (Mind): Fair

Physically Impressive (Body): Good

Determined (Spirit): Good

[Reflexes: Mediocre]

 

Advantages: Retired Military

Disadvantages: Past His Prime

Complications: In Love with a Vegetarian Teetotaller, Out of Place in Civilised Society

Motivations: To Hunt on Every Continent, To Sample the Scotch of Every Distillery

---

Stan Tucker, Cowboy (15 levels allocated), (q.v.)

Ridin': Superb

Shootin': Good

Wranglin': Great

Wrestlin': Good

Guessin' the Weather: Fair

Cogitatin' (Mind): Poor

Laborin' (Body): Good

Reflectin' (Spirit): Fair

Skedaddlin' (Reflexes): Good

 

Advantages: Trusted by Horses, Keen Eyesight

Disadvantages: Claustrophobic, Illiterate

Complications: Fond of a Schoolteacher, but Too Shy to Court Her

Motivations: To Become a Trail Boss

---

Charlotte Chevalier, Reporter (15 levels allocated), (q.v.)

Ambitious Reporter: Great

Daredevil Aviatrix: Great

Crack Shot: Great

Crazy Driver: Fair

Sharp as a Tack (Mind): Good

Tough Cookie (Body): Fair

Sassy and Irrepressible (Spirit): Great

Klutzy (Reflexes): Poor

 

Advantages: Patron: Editor of a Big Metropolitan Newspaper, Press Pass

Disadvantages: Obsessed with Dance (and Has Two Left Feet), Recklessly Brave

Complications: Her Prominent Family's Disapproval of Her Lifestyle

Motivations: To Show Up Her Family, To Get the Scoop of the Century

---

Oliver Rath, Police Detective (15 levels allocated), (q.v.)

Damned Good Police Detective: Great

Impressive Middleweight Boxer: Good

Savvy Poker Player: Good

Skilled and Fearless Driver: Good

Mind Like a Steel Trap (Mind): Great

Tough as a Boot (Body): Good

World-Weary (Spirit): Poor

Agile When He Needs to Be (Reflexes): Good

 

Advantages: Photographic Memory, Law Enforcement Authority

Disadvantages: Lives in a Bad Neighborhood, Coffee Addiction

Complications: Is a Widower with Two Children

Motivations: To Provide for His Children, To Be the Best Damned Cop He Can Be

Plain Trait Character Example 4

How well does Plain Trait Fudge handle a game with highly competent characters such as spies? We shall see...

Example 4

Step One: The GM is running an espionage thriller game inspired by the novels of Ian Fleming and the television show Honey West. He allots each character 20 trait levels.

Step Two: The GM limits allocation to no more than two Superb traits and two Terrible traits. All other trait levels are unlimited. Player A decides to play an agent who is a reformed cat burglar, choosing Stealth and Lockpicking/Safecracking. Specifying these traits automatically starts them at Fair, which is a total cost of 2 levels. Her character is an expert at these criminal activities (now used in the service of her country), so she spends 2 levels to raise Stealth to Great and 3 levels to raise Lockpicking/Safecracking to Superb. As an agent, she was trained in Self Defense, Marksmanship, and First Aid, which means she has these traits at Fair (at a cost of 1 level each). She spends 2 levels to raise Self Defense to Great and 1 level to raise Marksmanship to Good. Related to her criminal past, she gained knowledge of Mineralogy, Metallurgy, and Chemistry, so she spends 3 levels to acquire each at Fair. Looking to her outside interests, Player A decides her character has a passion for Dance and Acrobatics, both of which may assist her in covert missions. Specifying these traits, she has both at Fair (at a cost of 1 level each). She spends 2 levels and raises them to Good. Player A has now reached her limit of 20 levels, but she wants her character to be highly skilled in Acrobatics, so she must specify an extraordinarily low trait to balance it. She chooses Brawling at Poor. Although she can defend herself and is skilled with firearms, wading into a mêlée is not her style. She prefers to select her target, strike silently, and disappear before being noticed. (This is a valid trait to designate as extraordinarily low, since it is one that would otherwise conceivably be useful to her.) She spends the 1 level thus freed to raise Acrobatics to Great. Realizing that she forgot to specify an extraordinarily high ability at Driving, which would be desirable for a character who likes fast cars and performs well in high speed chases, she decides it would be appropriate to her old school field agent sensibilities to be Terrible at Computer Programming (Hacking). She can rely on other agents for that talent. This frees 2 levels to enable her to specify Driving at Good.

Step Three: The GM sets a minimum requirement of one complication. Player A specifies Born into a Family of Thieves.

Step Four: The GM sets a minimum requirement of one motivation. Player A specifies three: To Redeem Herself, To Reform Her Family, and To Serve Her Country.

Aurelia Brixton

Traits

Stealth: Great

Lockpicking/Safecracking: Superb

Self Defense: Great

Marksmanship: Good

First Aid: Fair

Mineralogy: Fair

Metallurgy: Fair

Chemistry: Fair

Dance: Good

Acrobatics: Great

Driving: Good

Brawling: Poor

Computer Programming: Terrible

 

Complications

Born into a Family of Thieves

 

Motivations

To Redeem Herself

To Reform Her Family

To Serve Her Country

Plain Trait Character Example 3

In Plain Trait Fudge, players are encouraged to define their characters in terms of what makes them extraordinary (in both good ways and bad ways). Anything ordinary about their characters is unnecessary to describe. This makes the character creation process quicker and avoids cluttering character sheets with irrelevant traits.

Example 3

Step One: The GM is running a Victorian era mystery adventure about which she says little. She allots each character 10 trait levels.

Step Two: The GM limits allocation to no more than one Superb trait and one Terrible trait. All other trait levels are unlimited. Player A, given not much context, decides his character will be a globe-trotting big game hunter and immediately chooses Marksmanship, Physical Prowess, Leadership, Geography, and Education. Specifying these traits automatically starts them at Fair, which is a total cost of 5 levels. His character is a retired Sergeant-Major who served in India and Africa, which justifies raising his Leadership and Geography to Good at a cost of 1 level each. Despite his age, he is a fine physical specimen, so Player A spends 2 levels to raise his Physical Prowess to Great. This leaves 1 level left to spend, but Player A thinks his character's Marksmanship ought to be better than Good, so he needs to define an extraordinarily low trait to afford it. He defines two. Having spent most of his life in the military, he has little patience for (or understanding of) modern civilian bureaucracy, so his Bureaucratic Navigation skills are consequently Poor. Having spent most of his military career in technologically primitive places, he has little to no experience with many of the technological marvels of the day, so his Expertise in Operating Contraptions (of a Non-Military Nature) is also Poor. The 2 levels thus freed, in addition to the 1 level unspent, will enable Player A to raise his character's Marksmanship to Superb.

Step Three: The GM sets a minimum requirement of two complications. Player A specifies In Love with a Vegetarian Teetotaller as one complication, and Out of Place in Civilised Society as another.

Step Four: The GM sets a minimum requirement of two motivations. Player A specifies To Hunt on Every Continent as his first stated motivation, and To Sample the Scotch of Every Distillery as his second. (He leaves unstated a third motivation: To Woo the Vegetarian Teetotaller.)

Charles Standish-Reddy, Sergeant-Major (ret.)

Traits

Marksmanship: Superb

Physical Prowess: Great

Leadership: Good

Geography: Good

Education: Fair

Bureaucratic Navigation: Poor

Contraption Operation: Poor

 

Complications

In Love with a Vegetarian Teetotaller

Out of Place in Civilised Society

 

Motivations

To Hunt on Every Continent

To Sample the Scotch of Every Distillery

Plain Trait Character Example 2

Plain Trait Fudge is a variant that emphasizes quick and easy character creation. Aside from the character creation rules, the only difference between it and standard Fudge is that all traits default to Mediocre (unless, of course, their natural default is Nonexistent).

Example 2

Step One: The GM is running a Wild West campaign that will span a great deal of territory (not unlike the television show Rawhide). There will be action and adventure, but the characters will be realistic. She allots each character 10 trait levels.

Step Two: The GM limits allocation to no more than two Superb traits and two Terrible traits. All other trait levels are unlimited. Player A decides his character will be a cowboy with the following extraordinary traits: Ridin', Shootin', Wranglin', Wrestlin', and Guessin' the Weather. Specifying these traits automatically starts them at Fair, which is a total cost of 5 levels. Player A imagines his character to be the "born in the saddle" type, so he spends 2 levels each on Ridin' and Wranglin' to raise them to Great. He wants to be able to protect the herd in his care (and himself), so he spends the remaining level to raise Shootin' to Good. His character ought to be able to handle himself in a hand-to-hand fight, but he has no levels available, so he defines some extraordinarily low traits — Book Learnin' and Gamblin' — at Poor, which makes 2 levels available. He spends both on Wrestlin' to raise it to Great. Looking at his traits, Player A decides that his Ridin' should be higher to match his character concept, so he drops Gamblin' to Terrible and spends the level on Ridin', raising it to Superb.

Step Three: The GM sets a minimum requirement of one complication. Player A specifies Claustrophobic.

Step Four: The GM sets a minimum requirement of one motivation. Player A specifies To Become a Trail Boss. In the course of play, he may add others, but this is enough for now.

Stan Tucker, Cowboy

Traits

Ridin': Superb

Shootin': Good

Wranglin': Great

Wrestlin': Great

Guessin' the Weather: Fair

Book Learnin': Poor

Gamblin': Terrible

 

Complications

Claustrophobic

 

Motivations

To Become a Trail Boss

Plain Traits for Fudge

Plain Trait Fudge is a variant of Fudge that utilizes neither attributes nor skills, just plain traits. It is a system that emphasizes exceptions to the rule, and this is reflected by the absence of predetermined trait lists. Everyone has an equal possibility of accomplishing anything unless he or she is exceptionally well-suited or ill-suited to the task.

In addition to plain traits, Plain Trait Fudge advocates the use of two other elements used to describe a character: complications and motivations. These have no effect on the cost of traits, but their inclusion encourages the player to consider his character's background and psychology both when the character is created and during play.

It is presumed that the standard trait ladder and dice-rolling conventions of Fudge are being used, but these are, of course, optional. Action resolution, supernormal powers, combat, wounding, and healing are conducted as per standard Fudge or any variant desired. The two areas in which Plain Trait Fudge differs from standard Fudge (and could even be interpreted as Alternate Rules) are Chapter 1, Character Creation and Chapter 5, Character Development.

Plain Trait Terms

Plain Trait: Any trait. All traits, including attributes, skills, gifts, and faults are subsumed into plain traits and rated according to the trait ladder.

Ordinary Trait: An unspecified plain trait; any trait not listed as being possessed by the character. All ordinary traits are Mediocre and represent the default level of all plain traits.

Extraordinary Trait: A specified plain trait; any trait listed as being possessed by the character. An extraordinary trait is either extraordinarily high (Fair or better) or extraordinarily low (Poor or worse).

Complication: A specified disadvantage or combined advantage/disadvantage; a plot hook.

Motivation: A specified drive or goal.

In other words, all characters have unspecified ordinary traits that are Mediocre and specified extraordinary traits that are anything but Mediocre.

Plain Trait Character Creation

The following steps describe the standard method of plain trait character creation:

Step One: Trait Level Allotment

The GM allots a certain number of trait levels to be spent on each character by each player. This may require a bit of adjusting for the genre and the preferred playing style, but it is not necessary to make the number too high. An allotment of 10 levels is a good starting point.

Step Two: Trait Specification and Level Allocation

The player decides what aspects make his character different, or extraordinary, by specifying the character's defining traits. Each trait specified is allocated 1 level, thus raising it from an ordinary Mediocre trait to an extraordinary Fair trait. Extraordinary traits may be further increased by allocating additional levels. Needless to say, one must balance breadth of abilities with the depth of each ability, with the extremes being jack-of-all-trades, master of none at one extreme and idiot savant at the other. If the player feels that there are not enough available levels to describe his character's traits accurately (or if his vision of his character requires certain traits to be deficient), then he may specify one or more extraordinarily low traits, thereby gaining 1 additional level for each Poor trait and 2 additional levels for each Terrible trait.

NB: Beyond the allocation of GM-allotted trait levels, the value of any trait level gained is only equal to the value of the trait level sacrificed. That is to say, accepting a Poor Marksmanship trait may be equal to an extra level of Acrobatics, Physical Strength, or Coroner, but accepting a Poor Sports Trivia trait will probably only merit an extra level of Science Fiction Trivia, Celebrity Gossip, or Coupon Clipper.

The GM may set limits on the number of traits that may be specified at certain levels. For instance, she may require that there be a maximum of one Superb trait, two Great traits, two Poor traits, and one Terrible trait, whereas the number of Fair and Good traits a character may have at character creation is limited only by the available amount of levels.

Players may also save levels to buy traits during play that might have been overlooked.

Step Three

Once the character's traits have been determined, the GM may require that the players list personal complications or plot hooks for their characters. Complications may be entirely negative, or they may have both positive and negative elements, but in any event they must serve to complicate the character's life and lend themselves to potential use as plot devices by the GM. The GM may set a minimum required number of complications.

Step Four

The GM may also require that the players list their characters' motivations. This gives both the GM and the player a better understanding of the character, and enables the player to indicate to the GM what he might want for his character in the way of goals or challenges. The GM may set a minimum required number of motivations.

Other Steps

Other steps that may occur during character creation, during play, or between sessions include details of the character's description, background, and equipment or other belongings. Non-player characters important to the character (such as dependents or patrons) may be described briefly or created fully by the GM, the player (with GM approval), or both in cooperation.

Plain Trait Character Development

Plain traits, being neither attributes nor skills, have different costs for improvement. Since characters with plain traits generally have fewer traits than those with attributes and skills, and since plain traits have a higher default level than most skills, improvement should be more gradual. This can be done very easily by means of the subjective character development system in Section 5.1 and the development through training system in Section 5.3. If the objective character development system in Section 5.2 is preferred, the cost of raising a plain trait is double the cost for skills of the same level. In other words:

RAISING A PLAIN TRAIT:
FROM:	TO:	COSTS:
Terrible	Poor	2 EP
Poor	Mediocre	2 EP
Mediocre	Fair	2 EP
Fair	Good	4 EP
Good	Great	8 EP
Great	Superb	16 EP
Superb	Legendary	32 EP + GM permission

Example

Step One: The GM is running a Wild West scenario, so she allots each character 7 trait levels.

Step Two: The GM limits allocation to no more than one Superb trait and one Terrible trait. All other trait levels are unlimited. Player A decides his character will be a gambler with the following extraordinary traits: Cardsharp, Quick Draw, Aim, Charmer, Walking Encyclopaedia. Specifying these traits automatically starts them at Fair, which is a total cost of 5 levels. Player A wants some of the traits to be a bit higher, so he spends the remaining 2 levels on Charmer to raise it to Great. He envisions Cardsharp as his best trait and Quick Draw one of his better ones, so he defines some extraordinarily low traits in order to gain some more trait levels. He chooses Poor Ability to Refuse a Drink (+1 level), Terrible Ability to Resist Flirting with Ladies (+2 levels), and Poor Judgment Regarding Money (+1 level). This enables him to raise Cardsharp to Superb and Quick Draw to Good.

Step Three: The GM sets a minimum requirement of two complications. Player A specifies Wanted for a Crime He Didn't Commit as one complication and Shunned by His Kinfolk as the other.

Step Four: The GM sets a minimum requirement of two motivations. Player A specifies three: To Clear His Name, To Strike It Rich, and To Enjoy the Finer Things in Life.

Sam Turnstile, Gambler

Traits

Cardsharp: Superb

Quick Draw: Good

Aim: Fair

Charmer: Great

Walking Encyclopaedia: Fair

Ability to Refuse a Drink: Poor

Ability to Resist Flirting with Ladies: Terrible

Judgment Regarding Money: Poor

 

Complications

Wanted for a Crime He Didn't Commit

Shunned by His Kinfolk

 

Motivations

To Clear His Name

To Strike It Rich

To Enjoy the Finer Things in Life

[Originally posted in Fudgery.net.]

Topics of Conversation for Non-Player Characters

In any given scenario, there may be dozens of minor non-player characters that are encountered, but how many of them are more than faces in a crowd with gossip to share or goods to sell? Are they characters or are they just props? Any non-player character worthy of dialogue deserves a bit of personality, a bit of life. A quirk here and a distinguishing feature there can turn even the most seemingly incidental characters into interesting recurring characters and give an added dimension to an adventure. When a GM gives life to non-player characters, it makes the setting come alive.

One way to infuse non-player persons with a little personality is to give them something to talk about other than the most pertinent adventuring opportunities or the most tantalizing rumors when player characters meet them. The average bystander or shopkeeper will probably have more important things on his or her mind than how to help a suspicious-looking stranger. Perhaps they know something, perhaps they don't. In any case, the best way to entice people to talk is usually to talk about something that interests them. It is not difficult for a GM to choose credible subjects of interest for non-player characters who are fully detailed, but those who are little more than a name, a profession, and a brief description on a random encounter table offer rather less insight. For such characters we simply note one or two common topics of conversation.

A topic of conversation could be anything from the superficial to the personal to the obsessive. It could be the weather, a hobby, a sports team, a television show, a news story, politics, anything. Not all topics will be appropriate for all situations, of course, but it can be useful to have it in reserve just in case. You can add topics to character descriptions beforehand (or jot them beside their names if that is all they consist of), or you can make your own Random Conversational Topic Table and roll on it whenever it seems appropriate, such as for spontaneously created characters. (If you decide to use a random table, it might be helpful to write any topic so generated in the character's description for future reference.) If you don't have any preconceptions about a given character's interests, the random table may help to add flesh to that character's skeleton as it were.

Topics of conversation for non-player characters can be beneficial to players as well as GMs. In role-playing games that utilize character skills, they provide a usefulness for Trivia skills beyond adding color to a character. Even if the player isn't knowledgeable about a topic, the character might be, and that could be just the edge that is needed.

[Originally posted in Fudgery.net/fudgerylog on 12 February 2011.]

Separation Between Attributes and Skills

The topic of whether and/or how one ought to link attributes and skills is a perennial one in Fudge discussions. It's understandable, too. Fudge doesn't link them. Ironically, the deliberate separation between attributes and skills is one of its greatest innovations, yet it is the first thing that many want to change. This is an argument in favor of preserving the separation.

Simplicity is on the side of separation. Linkage, on the other hand, demands complexity. The first step in establishing a link is categorizing all skills. It seems the easiest possible way to do this is to decide which attribute governs each skill, but therein lies the thorniest of problems. How can one say that Agility alone governs a skill in Running? What about Strength? What about Endurance? Who is to say that Intelligence alone governs a skill in Drawing? Perhaps the creative aspect of Spirit or Soul is involved. Perhaps the skill is largely owed to Perceptiveness or Manual Dexterity? In response one may argue that the solution is to create new skill categories composed of combinations of attributes, as in Basic Role-Playing. Categories such as Fine Manipulation combine Intelligence and Dexterity. Unless each attribute is used the same number of times, however, one or two attributes will dominate the skill categories (usually Dexterity and Intelligence or their equivalents), and players will min-max with wild abandon. It's not so much that most players are power gamers, but that the temptation to take advantage of the system is just too great. The mere presence of a linkage not only enables min-maxing, but actively encourages it. (And this, incidentally, leads to the original and most compelling argument in favor of separation as made by the author of Fudge, Steffan O'Sullivan, in his Recent Thoughts comments).

The next step in establishing a link would be deciding how the attribute and skill actually interact. Do attributes confer a bonus or penalty to purchasing skill levels or as a modifier in action resolution? Do unskilled actions default to a governing attribute or skill category? The problem with this approach is skill inflation. Either no skill can be taken at face value (which defeats one of the basic design principles of Fudge) because it may be raised or lowered by an attribute, or no unskilled action can be counted on to be justifiably inferior to an action by someone possessing the skill at a moderate level. In any event, what you see is not necessarily what you get and thus another layer of murkiness complicates the game.

In the real world, all of the factors involved in connecting whatever attributes we possess with whatever skills we have learned are complicated beyond any enumeration or comprehension. Instead of trying in vain to simulate something so complex, why not use common sense? If a character has many academic skills, why not assign an appropriate level in the appropriate attribute? In terms of skill acquisition, why should a character who is a mathematical genius receive a bonus to acquiring skills in Writing or History for example? One kind of mental excellence does not necessarily translate to another, and the same goes for any other attribute. The attributes used by a hockey player do not necessarily translate into the same advantage for learning flamenco dancing just because hockey and flamenco are both physical in nature.

The Fudge solution is elegant. I resisted it upon my first reading of Fudge years ago, but I came to realize that it solved one of the worst banes of game design, and it did so by relying on a common sense approach. For that reason, I will maintain the separation in my own games. I may design or run games that have attributes and no skills, skills and no attributes, plain traits, or separated attributes and skills, but I'll never again resort to the legacy of linkage when it comes to Fudge.

[Originally posted in Fudgery.net/fudgerylog on 12 January 2009.]

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...

Mana Everywhere; It's Like Manna

House rules for magic systems are not in short supply. Whether you are searching for variants of your favorite system, adaptations from one game system to another, or unique systems that have been fashioned by skilled craftsman who suffer for their art and offer it to the world without monetary compensation, they are abundant. One thing I wish were abundant were house rules for magic systems that do not use the word "mana."

Once upon a time, game designers were content to use one term, for the most part, to describe the harnessing of supernatural forces. It was called "magic." There seemed to be an infinite number of ways to explain the source of magic or how it works (if one felt the necessity) ranging from innate psychic gifts to channeling the energy of the Positive Material Plane to tapping the ambient magical field of one's immediate surroundings. Any of these are enough to spark the imagination and possibly inspire one to conjecture about the "physics" of magic in a particular setting, even possibly leading to ideas for new adventures and background stories.

Then someone decided to take a word, a very specific word with a very specific religious meaning belonging to a very specific culture, and reduce it to a generic rules term. That word is mana. Looking at a variety of online sources, I note that the term in general has been diluted over the years, so I am forced to admit that game designers and rules hackers are probably not solely responsible for the word's overuse:

1 : the power of the elemental forces of nature embodied in an object or person
2 : moral authority : PRESTIGE
(Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary)

or:

(in Polynesian, Melanesian, and Maori belief) pervasive supernatural or magical power.

— ORIGIN Maori.
(AskOxford)

or:

a generalized, supernatural force or power, which may be concentrated in objects or persons.
[Origin: 1835–45; < Polynesian] (Dictionary.com)

At one time, mana meant the supernatural power present in a being or object that could be released from its containment and utilized by another by destroying said being or object. It was tied to a belief system held particularly by the Maori, and it was especially important to concepts of divine and tribal authority.

Why someone thought mana would be an excellent word to be applied generically to magic in a fantasy setting of predominantly Western European influence is baffling. Medieval Western Europeans did, in fact, have a concept of magic as a force that could be locked within beings or objects, and they had words for it, too: "quintessence" and "prima materia."

Perhaps it was once considered a nifty idea to use the word "mana" instead of "magic." Perhaps it was thought to be exotic. Perhaps, even, it was thought that it would be more believable to have in-character conversations about mana than magic in a medieval European fantasy world. Read that sentence again. Yes, as absurd as it sounds, I think it may have been part of the rationale.

To most people, the presence of mana in a text about mostly Western magic is probably not as jarring and unaesthetic as it is to me. For my serious games, I like to immerse myself in another world, much as I like to do when I am reading a good novel. To me, a wizened alchemist muttering something about mana is about as convincing as the Sheriff of Nottingham using the phrase "crime scene investigation" or Robin Hood discussing the merits of "wealth redistribution." If it were a comical interpretation, sure, anything goes. For that matter, the party can greet strangers with "aloha" and have luaus every night of their journey to Mordor. For serious games, however, I think mana is best limited to traditional Polynesian or modern cosmopolitan settings.

Incidentally, I do think that a traditional Polynesian setting would make a rich environment for gaming. The possibilities are... fascinating.

[Originally posted in Fudgery.net/fudgerylog on 19 July 2007.]

Fudge Links Lost and Found

I updated the Fudge Links page at Fudgery.net after discovering that five of them are now broken. I know some of them are gone forever, but some may have moved. If anyone knows of any new URLs for the sites that are marked "offline," please leave a comment. Thank you.

[Edit: Please disregard as site no longer exists.]

How to Juggle Hit Location Rules in Fudge

As I mentioned previously (q.v.), I like to use different rules options depending on my mood in any given session. Some options are too good not to use, so I try to use them all. Another combat-related example is hit locations. I like called attacks. I also like random hit locations. I also like hits that default to the torso. When I GM, I use all three options.

The following rule builds upon my own Alternate Section 4.35, Hit Location.

All attacks are made against random hit locations unless the attacker declares that a hit location is being targeted (known as a called attack).

A called attack must succeed by the required minimum relative degree in order to make contact with the targeted hit location. If the attack succeeds, but not by the minimum relative degree, then the defender chooses the hit location.

If the non-player character combatants are numerous and/or minor, the GM may rule that all attacks that are not called attacks are made against their torso hit location instead of rolling for random hit locations.

[Edited from an article originally posted in Fudgery.net/fudgerylog on 7 March 2011.]

How to Juggle Combat Rules in Fudge

One of my quirks as a Fudge GM is that I enjoy shifting from one rules option to another depending on circumstances and general mood. For example, I see no reason not to use story elements, simultaneous combat rounds, and alternating combat turns at different points during the same session as long as it feels right. There is, indeed, a method to my madness, and it occurred to me that it could be codified quite easily. Here, then, is my very simple solution for incorporating the major combat subsystems into a single system. I'll tentatively call it the combat option selection system.

The rules from which I am drawing are in Section 4.2, Melee Combat of the Fudge 1995 Edition.

When combat seems imminent, the first step in the combat option selection system is to roll for the initiative. Different methods for determining initiative are described in Section 4.23, Alternating Combat Turns, but in this iteration initiative is determined before the combat option is selected.

If the initiative roll is a tie between the two opposing parties (whether they are individuals or groups), then the fight will be resolved using simultaneous combat rounds (see Section 4.22).

If the initiative roll results in a winner and loser, then the fight will be resolved using alternating combat turns, with the winner making the first attack (see Section 4.23).

Regardless of the result of the initiative roll, if both parties are agreeable, the fight may be resolved using story elements instead (see Section 4.21).

Optionally, the winner of the initiative roll may state whether alternating combat turns or story elements will be used for the fight.

Not only is this system completely intuitive (ties are fought simultaneously; non-ties favor the quick and the bold), but it gives everyone the chance to the use the combat rules they like best.

[Originally posted in Fudgery.net/fudgerylog on 4 March 2011.]

It Matters Who Rolls

In a game with the unfortunate name of Fudge, it is of the utmost importance that trust be established between the GM and the players. (Fudge is a fun and whimsical name to be sure, but unless one knows that it is derived from the verb and not the noun, and unless one knows that it refers to the act of improvising and not cheating, then its very name, especially in the gaming hobby, can itself be a source of distrust from players unfamiliar with the game.) In aid of this, I urge all GMs to adopt these practices:

• Roll in full view. Whenever you are rolling for an opposed action, let the players see your roll, and make sure you see theirs. This is especially relevant in combat. Naturally, if anyone is using a trait that involves detection, the GM must roll it in secret. The same is true of rolls on encounter tables and other secret weapons for GM eyes only. Whenever there is conflict or the use of an observable trait, however, the GM should roll in full view.
  
• Allow players to make their own attack rolls. Do not deprive your players of the joy of rolling dice. The suspense caused by the very act of rolling dice will do much of the work for you in making the game exciting for everyone.
  
• Roll all random hit locations. Unless a player character makes a called attack against a specific hit location (and suffers the resulting increase in difficulty), then it's in the hands of the gods. The player has relinquished all responsibility for where the hit lands and it is up to the GM to represent the fickle finger of Fate. You can rule in accordance with GM's whim as is your right, or you can roll for a random hit location. Just remember to roll in full view.
  
• Allow players to make their own skill rolls and attribute rolls. Don't make the novice mistake of requiring a roll for every use of a skill. Fudge is about making educated judgment calls. However, if the circumstances dictate that a roll should be made, let the players roll for their own characters. They should be able to witness the result of their own actions (unless, of course, it involves detection).
  

Thoughts on Scale 2

[The charts referred to in this article are the Mass Scale Chart and the Strength Scale Chart.]

Although I have seen advice against it, I think the best solution to the Scale controversy is to accept the fact that Mass is a separate trait from Mass Scale. If we accept that Mass Scale is the relative size of the average member of a given species, and that the Mass Scale of objects made for use by that species is 0 relative to that species, then it holds that objects, at least, and probably beings, possess a Mass trait, too.

This Mass trait would be rated numerically on the Mass Scale chart, but its actual real world value would be the Mass trait and Mass Scale combined, just as a Strength attribute and Strength Scale are combined when an offensive damage factor is calculated.

Take, for example, a human being and his bowling ball. The average human being (according to the chart we are using) is Mass Scale 0 and therefore 68 kilograms. His favorite bowling ball is Mass Scale 0 (because it is scaled for use by a Scale 0 human being), but since it weighs only 6 kilograms, its Relative Mass must be -6. Mass Scale 0 + Relative Mass -6 = Mass -6. To find out the Mass or Relative Mass of any normal man-made object, you simply need to know its mass in real world terms.

But suppose the human bowler is challenged to a game by a huge troll? The troll is Mass Scale +4 and therefore about 333 kilograms. The bowling ball, created by a troll craftsman to be used by trolls, is the same size relative to a troll as a man-made bowling ball is to a human being. Since the man-made bowling ball is Relative Mass -6, then you just need to add the troll's Mass Scale to arrive at the troll-made bowling ball's Mass. Mass Scale +4 + Relative Mass -6 = -2. A troll-made bowling ball has a Mass of -2, or about 30 kilograms.

Suppose the human bowler next plays against a gnome. The gnome is Mass Scale -13, or about 350 grams. His bowling ball was made by himself of the appropriate dimensions, so it is 6 levels lighter than himself. Mass Scale -13 - Relative Mass -6 = -19. A gnome-made bowling ball has a Mass of -19, or about 30 grams.

To summarize, to find the Mass of an object made for beings of non-human Scale, add the Mass Scale of the being for whom it was made, to the Relative Mass (the Mass of the equivalent object made for human beings). It's that easy. It requires, however, that the correct terms are in use.

Mass Scale

The mass of the average member of a species.

Relative Mass

The mass of an object relative to the mass of the being for whom it was made.

Mass

The actual mass of a being or object, calculated by adding Mass Scale to Relative Mass. (If a man-made object is 2 levels heavier than a human being, i.e. Relative Mass +2, then the same object made for a different species would be 2 levels heavier than the typical member of that species, too.)

[Originally posted in Fudgery.net/fudgerylog on 13 March 2007.]