[This article is in support of my project to design an unofficial (and free) Fudge role-playing game adaptation of Doctor Who (the original show).]
Although all standard Fudge methods of character creation will be supported (and described or linked in the text), there will be one method — designed specifically for this adaptation — that I think captures the feel of Doctor Who better than the others, which I call interjectional character creation, which has some ideas in common with Ed Heil’s alternate character creation system. As usual, I'm in favor of allowing individual players in the same group to choose different methods if they so desire.
One thing I am trying to avoid, however, is confusing readers with too many choices. As with character creation, one method of combat resolution will be emphasized, which I will tentatively dub interjectional combat resolution, but story elements, simultaneous combat rounds, and alternating combat turns will be supported and briefly described or linked.
In all cases (and this is the overriding design principle in this project), the game play itself should be intuitive and the rules should be implemented invisibly. Nothing in the rules should interrupt the flow of the game. Ideally, if the recommended methods are used, this should be achieved. More experienced players may be able to achieve the same results using the other methods, but I want newcomers to gravitate toward the methods that will be likeliest to promote this sort of experience.
Recreating the atmosphere of the original Doctor Who, allowing players to feel as if they are stepping into that universe, is the ultimate goal of this game. I want the rules to be the portal, not the barrier, to this experience.
[Originally posted in Fudgery.net/fudgerylog on 26 February 2009.]
03 July 2016
02 July 2016
Doctor Who Observations Part 3
[This article is in support of my project to design an unofficial (and free) Fudge role-playing game adaptation of Doctor Who (the original show).]
The strength and weakness of Doctor Who as a role-playing game is that it is best suited for small groups, preferably of one to four players plus the GM. If the Doctor ever had more than three Companions at once I would be surprised, and more often he had only one. This is not to say that more Companions would be impossible, but it would certainly be a challenge to maintain the atmosphere of the show with so many main characters (and it must be stated here, if it was not already obvious, that one of the major goals of this game is to convey the atmosphere of the original show, regardless of whether the players are portraying characters from the show or characters they have created).
For those who have difficulty finding or starting a gaming group (or coördinating the schedules of the members when a group is found or started), playing a game that offers the richest rewards for smaller groups is a blessing. Doctor Who thrives best when there are only a handful of characters. Violent solutions to problems should always be a last resort (except in the case of rare characters like Leela), and smaller groups will be less tempted to use force unless necessary. By the same token, if there are fewer player characters, each will have more opportunity to interact socially with the non-player characters. In general, the greater the number of Companions a Time Lord has, the more all of them will be overshadowed by the Time Lord. Fewer Companions will have more opportunities to participate, and each will be likelier to shine in a particular area of expertise or natural advantage, e.g. Zoë with her super high intelligence or Jamie with his bravery and decisiveness.
In my own experience running FASA’s Doctor Who, sessions with two players were ideal, but sessions with just a single player were quite playable and enjoyable. Entire stories (which in Doctor Who typically consisted of four episodes) could be run in a single session with no sense of being rushed. This would be perfect for convention events, were it not for the fact that convention organizers usually prefer role-playing events to accommodate at least six players. True, there are times when only one or two players will turn up at an event. The first time I ever ran an event at a convention (GenCon XVIII), two players showed up for the first time slot for my satirical take on the World of Greyhawk for Advanced Dungeons & Dragons (1st edition). I could have cancelled it, but I decided to run it, and a fun time was had by all despite the fact that I had designed it for four to six players. For the second time slot, six players reported in, plus two more. Being too much of a softy, I allowed the two extra players in (I had had the foresight to bring additional pregenerated characters), but a combination of factors (including the length of the table, the loudness of the game room, and the unwieldy number of participants) made the experience less satisfying (especially for the unfortunates at the opposite end of the table at whom my descriptions often had to be yelled to be heard). As a result, the maximum number of players I will now accept at my events is six, and the number I prefer is four. With regard to this game, however, I think it might be best to run it as a free Fudge demo amongst one to four interested individuals at a time. I’m not sure of any other way to run it effectively at a convention.
In summary, this game will be aimed at maintaining the dynamics of small groups consisting of at least one Time Lord and one to three Companions (one of whom may also be a Time Lord) to better promote playability and preserve the atmosphere of the original Doctor Who.
[Originally posted in Fudgery.net/fudgerylog on 30 January 2008.]
The strength and weakness of Doctor Who as a role-playing game is that it is best suited for small groups, preferably of one to four players plus the GM. If the Doctor ever had more than three Companions at once I would be surprised, and more often he had only one. This is not to say that more Companions would be impossible, but it would certainly be a challenge to maintain the atmosphere of the show with so many main characters (and it must be stated here, if it was not already obvious, that one of the major goals of this game is to convey the atmosphere of the original show, regardless of whether the players are portraying characters from the show or characters they have created).
For those who have difficulty finding or starting a gaming group (or coördinating the schedules of the members when a group is found or started), playing a game that offers the richest rewards for smaller groups is a blessing. Doctor Who thrives best when there are only a handful of characters. Violent solutions to problems should always be a last resort (except in the case of rare characters like Leela), and smaller groups will be less tempted to use force unless necessary. By the same token, if there are fewer player characters, each will have more opportunity to interact socially with the non-player characters. In general, the greater the number of Companions a Time Lord has, the more all of them will be overshadowed by the Time Lord. Fewer Companions will have more opportunities to participate, and each will be likelier to shine in a particular area of expertise or natural advantage, e.g. Zoë with her super high intelligence or Jamie with his bravery and decisiveness.
In my own experience running FASA’s Doctor Who, sessions with two players were ideal, but sessions with just a single player were quite playable and enjoyable. Entire stories (which in Doctor Who typically consisted of four episodes) could be run in a single session with no sense of being rushed. This would be perfect for convention events, were it not for the fact that convention organizers usually prefer role-playing events to accommodate at least six players. True, there are times when only one or two players will turn up at an event. The first time I ever ran an event at a convention (GenCon XVIII), two players showed up for the first time slot for my satirical take on the World of Greyhawk for Advanced Dungeons & Dragons (1st edition). I could have cancelled it, but I decided to run it, and a fun time was had by all despite the fact that I had designed it for four to six players. For the second time slot, six players reported in, plus two more. Being too much of a softy, I allowed the two extra players in (I had had the foresight to bring additional pregenerated characters), but a combination of factors (including the length of the table, the loudness of the game room, and the unwieldy number of participants) made the experience less satisfying (especially for the unfortunates at the opposite end of the table at whom my descriptions often had to be yelled to be heard). As a result, the maximum number of players I will now accept at my events is six, and the number I prefer is four. With regard to this game, however, I think it might be best to run it as a free Fudge demo amongst one to four interested individuals at a time. I’m not sure of any other way to run it effectively at a convention.
In summary, this game will be aimed at maintaining the dynamics of small groups consisting of at least one Time Lord and one to three Companions (one of whom may also be a Time Lord) to better promote playability and preserve the atmosphere of the original Doctor Who.
[Originally posted in Fudgery.net/fudgerylog on 30 January 2008.]
01 July 2016
Doctor Who Observations Part 2
[This article is in support of my project to design an unofficial (and free) Fudge role-playing game adaptation of Doctor Who (the original show).]
The problem of how to plunge characters into adventure was addressed in FASA’s Doctor Who with the invention of the renegade Celestial Intervention Agency, which kept an eye on Temporal Nexus Point Earth and sent field agents there in stolen TARDIS units to halt the activities of temporal marauders. The idea of an agency of Time Lords who share the Doctor’s ethics and guide the players from one adventure to another is a good one, although I have a different view of the form it would take and I don’t think it ought to be the only method of introducing a scenario. The following is an excerpt of a work in progress:
[Originally posted Fudgery.net/fudgerylog on 27 November 2007.]
The problem of how to plunge characters into adventure was addressed in FASA’s Doctor Who with the invention of the renegade Celestial Intervention Agency, which kept an eye on Temporal Nexus Point Earth and sent field agents there in stolen TARDIS units to halt the activities of temporal marauders. The idea of an agency of Time Lords who share the Doctor’s ethics and guide the players from one adventure to another is a good one, although I have a different view of the form it would take and I don’t think it ought to be the only method of introducing a scenario. The following is an excerpt of a work in progress:
The Excuse for Adventure
Why do characters do what they do? Specifically, how do they manage to find themselves entangled in difficult situations that may involve the fate of nations, planets, or even the universe as we know it? In Doctor Who, the answer is typically a TARDIS misjump due to a faulty mechanism, a miscalculation, or the effect of a temporal phenomenon. Sometimes the TARDIS is drawn off course intentionally by a friend or foe intent on thwarting the Doctor or enlisting his aid. Often the excuse for adventure is pure coincidence. The Doctor and his Companion are off to this time or that planet to enjoy its rare attractions when they are unexpectedly thrust into the middle of one of the Master’s evil plots or an attempt by the Daleks to enslave or exterminate another species. Although it works well enough for a television programme, the premise may wear thin for players when every adventure begins with a holiday outing interrupted by interstellar conspiracy.
To provide a framework for continuing adventures without straining credibility too much, an element has been added to the Classic Doctor Who Universe (thus making it part of the Expanded Classic Doctor Who Universe): the Temporal Integrity Preservation Society.
The Temporal Integrity Preservation Society (or T.I.P.S.) is a “club” of independently-minded Time Lords concerned with threats to the timestream. Operating from a private headquarters on Gallifrey and numerous TARDIS units throughout time and space, its members monitor the natural and proper flow of time and actively correct any deviations that are detected. Each member’s TARDIS is equipped with a special device that enables members to communicate with and be located by T.I.P.S. Headquarters. In the event that a temporal deviation is detected, any member’s TARDIS can be contacted and given the proper coordinates for emergency action. Adventure can then proceed. Once the deviation has been corrected, Headquarters is informed and the member returns to standby status.
Occasionally, the players will be the first to detect a disturbance in the temporal flow, either from the instruments on the TARDIS or from personal observation whilst visiting a particular time and place. Under those circumstances, the players would immediately contact T.I.P.S. Headquarters, investigate the matter, and attempt to correct the situation (not necessarily always in that order).
It should be noted that not all temporal disturbances are the result of obvious tampering by time travellers. Temporal anomalies do occur, and sometimes only the wisdom and conscience of a Tipsy (as T.I.P.S. members are both fondly and derogatorily referred to) can determine whether intervention is permissible. Whereas the Doctor may oppose interference with the Aztec ritual of human sacrifice on the grounds that it would destroy the timestream, he may actively participate in defending Earth against a Rutan invasion that, according to his knowledge of Earth’s history, should not have succeeded in the 1890s. Whether his actions were the cause of his own knowledge of the events is immaterial. The fact that he knew that the Rutans must be opposed is proof that their failure to conquer Earth was the proper result in the time line. The fact that he knew that the Aztecs practiced human sacrifice until their conquest by the Spanish is proof that their continuance of the ritual was the proper result in the time line. One could argue circles around the subject of time travel indefinitely, but for the purposes of adventure gaming in a light science fiction setting, it is enough to know that the players ought to sense when it is right to intervene, and when it is wrong. If they know something didn’t happen a certain way in history, then they know they ought to preserve that outcome as members of the Temporal Integrity Preservation Society. If they don’t know something didn’t happen a certain way (such as an event in our distant future or on an alien planet), then they ought to proceed as if it were proper for them to be there and do the right thing (avert an epidemic, liberate an enslaved people, rescue the survivors of a crashed spaceship, stop a cult of alien vampires, etc.). This both captures the tone of Doctor Who and promotes playability.
[Originally posted Fudgery.net/fudgerylog on 27 November 2007.]
30 June 2016
Doctor Who Observations Part 1
[This article is in support of my project to design an unofficial (and free) Fudge role-playing game adaptation of Doctor Who (the original show).]
In general, I think the role of Time Lord ought to be assumed by a player, as it is in FASA’s Doctor Who, rather than the GM, as it is in Time Lord (which is an ironic title for a game where the players only get to be Companions). What fan of the show hasn’t yearned to have power over time and space and an extended lifespan in which to enjoy that power? It’s rather like creating a superhero game in which the players are only allowed to play characters like Jimmy Olsen and Lois Lane, or Alfred the butler. I can see a mixed party having potential for open-minded role-players, but I am doubtful of the attraction of a game where all the players are mundane supporting characters of the non-player character “star” who has all the exotic skills, gadgets, and powers. The player characters, in effect, are the non-player character’s fault or disadvantage: Dependents (Player Character Companions).
The inevitable problem is that one’s gaming group will consist of more than one player who wishes to play a Time Lord. There are several possible solutions, and I am hoping I will be able to think of more. First, one can have a rotating Time Lord. For the first scenario, Player A will play the Time Lord and everyone else will play Companions. For the second scenario, Player B will get the honor, and so on until everyone has had a chance to play the Time Lord of the group, after which the privilege passes again to Player A, etc. The advantage is that the integrity of the show’s social dynamics are preserved. The disadvantage is that it may be a long time before some players ever get to be the star.
The second solution is to allow everyone to play whatever role they desire, which would probably lead to multiple Time Lords or even groups of nothing but Time Lords. This precedent can be found in the fourth Doctor’s Companion, Romana, who was herself a Time Lord (or Time Lady, depending on your term of preference). It can also be found in various Doctor Who specials that temporarily united multiple incarnations of the Doctor in a single story under highly unusual and rare circumstances. The advantage, of course, is that everyone gets to play a Time Lord without waiting for their turn. The disadvantage is that there may be multiple Time Lords, but there is usually only one TARDIS. Whose TARDIS is it? Whoever has the TARDIS has ultimate authority regardless of how many Time Lords are travelling in it. If everyone has their own TARDIS, how is group cohesion achieved?
The third solution is to use the same cast of characters, but switch roles at certain intervals, once per session, or once per scene, or once per dramatic conflict. Or it could be timed: once per hour, or once per 5 minutes. Depending on the frequency, it could make the session seem more or less like a party game, which might make for a welcome change of pace, or possibly a suitable prelude to an informal Doctor Who-viewing festival.
I think this is something I ought to address in the rules, at least in terms of suggesting options, if not recommendations.
[Originally posted in Fudgery.net/fudgerylog on 6 November 2007.]
In general, I think the role of Time Lord ought to be assumed by a player, as it is in FASA’s Doctor Who, rather than the GM, as it is in Time Lord (which is an ironic title for a game where the players only get to be Companions). What fan of the show hasn’t yearned to have power over time and space and an extended lifespan in which to enjoy that power? It’s rather like creating a superhero game in which the players are only allowed to play characters like Jimmy Olsen and Lois Lane, or Alfred the butler. I can see a mixed party having potential for open-minded role-players, but I am doubtful of the attraction of a game where all the players are mundane supporting characters of the non-player character “star” who has all the exotic skills, gadgets, and powers. The player characters, in effect, are the non-player character’s fault or disadvantage: Dependents (Player Character Companions).
The inevitable problem is that one’s gaming group will consist of more than one player who wishes to play a Time Lord. There are several possible solutions, and I am hoping I will be able to think of more. First, one can have a rotating Time Lord. For the first scenario, Player A will play the Time Lord and everyone else will play Companions. For the second scenario, Player B will get the honor, and so on until everyone has had a chance to play the Time Lord of the group, after which the privilege passes again to Player A, etc. The advantage is that the integrity of the show’s social dynamics are preserved. The disadvantage is that it may be a long time before some players ever get to be the star.
The second solution is to allow everyone to play whatever role they desire, which would probably lead to multiple Time Lords or even groups of nothing but Time Lords. This precedent can be found in the fourth Doctor’s Companion, Romana, who was herself a Time Lord (or Time Lady, depending on your term of preference). It can also be found in various Doctor Who specials that temporarily united multiple incarnations of the Doctor in a single story under highly unusual and rare circumstances. The advantage, of course, is that everyone gets to play a Time Lord without waiting for their turn. The disadvantage is that there may be multiple Time Lords, but there is usually only one TARDIS. Whose TARDIS is it? Whoever has the TARDIS has ultimate authority regardless of how many Time Lords are travelling in it. If everyone has their own TARDIS, how is group cohesion achieved?
The third solution is to use the same cast of characters, but switch roles at certain intervals, once per session, or once per scene, or once per dramatic conflict. Or it could be timed: once per hour, or once per 5 minutes. Depending on the frequency, it could make the session seem more or less like a party game, which might make for a welcome change of pace, or possibly a suitable prelude to an informal Doctor Who-viewing festival.
I think this is something I ought to address in the rules, at least in terms of suggesting options, if not recommendations.
[Originally posted in Fudgery.net/fudgerylog on 6 November 2007.]
02 May 2016
The Very Idea 2: More Variations of the Trait Ladder
[This article from 2011, which is the sequel of this article from 2006, addresses a perennial topic in Fudge that I discuss more seriously in One Step Beyond.]
[Originally posted in Fudgery.net in 2006.]
What started as a joke continues as a joke, and I make no recommendations whatsoever to use any of these unconventional trait ladders in Fudge (except the first). In fact, I think it is counterproductive to introduce a multitude of different trait ladders as it does nothing but create confusion. Nonetheless, here are four more for your amusement.
The first is a slight modification of the Not-So-Very-Varied Trait Ladder. Some players don't feel quite right about not having a Legendary trait level, so instead of adding Very to each additional level above Superb, Legendary is situated above Superb and each level above that adds another Very. The same is done with sub-Terrible trait levels and the substitution of Abysmal.
| Fudge Traits | # | Epic Not-So-Very-Varied Traits |
|---|---|---|
| Superb +4 | +7 | Very Very Very Legendary |
| Superb +3 | +6 | Very Very Legendary |
| Superb +2 | +5 | Very Legendary |
| Superb +1 | +4 | Legendary |
| Superb | +3 | Superb |
| Great | +2 | Great |
| Good | +1 | Good |
| Fair | 0 | Fair |
| Mediocre | -1 | Mediocre |
| Poor | -2 | Poor |
| Terrible | -3 | Terrible |
| Terrible -1 | -4 | Abysmal |
| Terrible -2 | -5 | Very Abysmal |
| Terrible -3 | -6 | Very Very Abysmal |
| Terrible -4 | -7 | Very Very Very Abysmal |
The All American Trait Ladder
Here is the trait ladder for Americans of the Great Depression and Second World War. This is the language of gangsters and coppers, flappers and mols, GIs and MPs, the Three Stooges and Our Gang. It's the Common Man's trait ladder, and it's Swell, see? And don't let any Lousy bum tell you differently. Besides, that palooka is only a So-So boxer and you're, well, you're O.K. with your mitts. Sure, you can take him. Oh, you mean the bruiser over there? He's Pretty Good in a fight. Nice knowing ya, pal. Good luck. Gotta go. So long!
| Fudge Traits | # | All American Traits |
|---|---|---|
| Superb | +3 | Terrific |
| Great | +2 | Swell |
| Good | +1 | Pretty Good |
| Fair | 0 | O.K. |
| Mediocre | -1 | So-So |
| Poor | -2 | Lousy |
| Terrible | -3 | Rotten |
The Proper Lady's Trait Ladder
To suggest that a proper lady is only able to distinguish between what is proper and improper would be far from correct. A proper lady has an extensive vocabulary with which to describe her trials and tribulations as well as her triumphs. It would be most vexing indeed if one were limited to a mere two words; two words would be less than advantageous if they were one's sole means of supporting oneself in a cruel world. Turbulent is the life of a proper lady who is forced to contend with the daily indignities of dealing with Dreary household servants, common labourers with Ghastly manners, and nieces who are Atrociously difficult to match with gentleman callers. O, to be extricated from that undeserving fate and elevated to her proper place! -- such is the conundrum uppermost in her thoughts. A proper lady, a lady of society, ought to be able to expect, quite reasonably, to concern herself exclusively with attending Lovely parties in the company of other personages of importance like herself.
| Fudge Traits | # | Traits for Proper Ladies |
|---|---|---|
| Superb | +3 | Divine |
| Great | +2 | Lovely |
| Good | +1 | Acceptable |
| Fair | 0 | Tolerable |
| Mediocre | -1 | Dreary |
| Poor | -2 | Ghastly |
| Terrible | -3 | Atrocious |
The Cold and Analytical Trait Ladder
[To be recited in a monotone.]
This trait ladder is stripped of unnecessary sentimentality. Do not expect this trait ladder to generate an emotional response or any other human weakness. The function of this trait ladder is to achieve Maximum efficiency. Inefficiency must be eliminated. To operate at less than Standard Capacity is to be inefficient. Most human capabilities are Below Standard; many are Well Below Standard. Therefore, humans are inefficient. Inefficiency must be eliminated. Now processing data...
| Fudge Traits | # | Cold & Analytical Traits |
|---|---|---|
| Superb | +3 | Maximum [Capacity] |
| Great | +2 | Well Above Standard [Capacity] |
| Good | +1 | Above Standard [Capacity] |
| Fair | 0 | Standard [Capacity] |
| Mediocre | -1 | Below Standard [Capacity] |
| Poor | -2 | Well Below Standard [Capacity] |
| Terrible | -3 | Minimum [Capacity] |
[Originally posted in Fudgery.net in 2006.]
30 April 2016
The Very Idea: Variations of the Trait Ladder
[This article from 2006 addresses a perennial topic in Fudge that I discuss more seriously in One Step Beyond.]
From time to time one hears complaints about the trait ladder of Fudge being "broken" because the adjectives do not extend above Superb or below Terrible, whereas results may occur beyond these ranges, especially when characters possess Great or Superb traits. I consider any result above Superb to be an extension of Superb, and it only matters how Superb if one is involved in an opposed action in which more than one character gets a Superb or higher result. If it is a matter of combat, then I generally just deal with the numbers in order to arrive at a relative degree. If the conflict is not combat-related, then I merely state results in terms of one being "more Superb" than the other. Some may balk at such vague descriptions, so for those who desire "hard and fast rules" preserving the adjectival integrity of the trait ladder, I offer the following simple remedy that will extend the ladder without relying on numerical modifiers or adding more words to memorize. All one has to do is add "Very" for each level above Superb or below Terrible. That's all there is to it. If your Superb Swordsman rolls +3 in a fight against a Superb Axe-wielder who rolls +2, then you now know that your Very Very Very Superb result defeats his merely Very Very Superb result. And whatever you may say about a Terrible combatant who rolls -4, it's a Very Very Very Very Terrible result.
[Originally posted in Fudgery.net in 2006.]
From time to time one hears complaints about the trait ladder of Fudge being "broken" because the adjectives do not extend above Superb or below Terrible, whereas results may occur beyond these ranges, especially when characters possess Great or Superb traits. I consider any result above Superb to be an extension of Superb, and it only matters how Superb if one is involved in an opposed action in which more than one character gets a Superb or higher result. If it is a matter of combat, then I generally just deal with the numbers in order to arrive at a relative degree. If the conflict is not combat-related, then I merely state results in terms of one being "more Superb" than the other. Some may balk at such vague descriptions, so for those who desire "hard and fast rules" preserving the adjectival integrity of the trait ladder, I offer the following simple remedy that will extend the ladder without relying on numerical modifiers or adding more words to memorize. All one has to do is add "Very" for each level above Superb or below Terrible. That's all there is to it. If your Superb Swordsman rolls +3 in a fight against a Superb Axe-wielder who rolls +2, then you now know that your Very Very Very Superb result defeats his merely Very Very Superb result. And whatever you may say about a Terrible combatant who rolls -4, it's a Very Very Very Very Terrible result.
| Fudge Traits | # | Not-So-Very-Varied Traits |
|---|---|---|
| Superb +4 | +7 | Very Very Very Very Superb |
| Superb +3 | +6 | Very Very Very Superb |
| Superb +2 | +5 | Very Very Superb |
| Superb +1 | +4 | Very Superb |
| Superb | +3 | Superb |
| Great | +2 | Great |
| Good | +1 | Good |
| Fair | 0 | Fair |
| Mediocre | -1 | Mediocre |
| Poor | -2 | Poor |
| Terrible | -3 | Terrible |
| Terrible -1 | -4 | Very Terrible |
| Terrible -2 | -5 | Very Very Terrible |
| Terrible -3 | -6 | Very Very Very Terrible |
| Terrible -4 | -7 | Very Very Very Very Terrible |
The Good, the Bad, and the Adequate
To be honest, all results really boil down to being either good, bad, or adequate, or degrees of the first two. To extend the idea presented above, one could center the trait ladder at Adequate, with Good at +1 and Bad at -1. For each level above Good or below Bad, one adds "Very." A Great result is now Very Good, a Superb result is Very Very Good, and a Terrible -1 result is Very Very Very Bad.
| Fudge Traits | # | Good to Bad Traits |
|---|---|---|
| Superb +4 | +7 | Very Very Very Very Very Very Good |
| Superb +3 | +6 | Very Very Very Very Very Good |
| Superb +2 | +5 | Very Very Very Very Good |
| Superb +1 | +4 | Very Very Very Good |
| Superb | +3 | Very Very Good |
| Great | +2 | Very Good |
| Good | +1 | Good |
| Fair | 0 | Adequate |
| Mediocre | -1 | Bad |
| Poor | -2 | Very Bad |
| Terrible | -3 | Very Very Bad |
| Terrible -1 | -4 | Very Very Very Bad |
| Terrible -2 | -5 | Very Very Very Very Bad |
| Terrible -3 | -6 | Very Very Very Very Very Bad |
| Terrible -4 | -7 | Very Very Very Very Very Very Bad |
The English Gentleman's Trait Ladder
To reflect a more civilized point of view, one may opt for the famous capacity for both understatement and overstatement that is characteristic of the archetypical English gentleman. Whilst one may admit that French cuisine is Quite Sufficient, one can state with satisfaction that English cooking is simply Smashing. Similarly, whereas the Bataan Death March was a Rather Bad situation, the service in this restaurant is Appalling!
| Fudge Traits | # | Traits for Gentlemen |
|---|---|---|
| Superb | +3 | Quite Sufficient |
| Great | +2 | Jolly Good |
| Good | +1 | Splendid |
| Fair | 0 | Smashing |
| Mediocre | -1 | Appalling |
| Poor | -2 | Dreadful |
| Terrible | -3 | Rather Bad |
Big Brother's Newspeak Trait Ladder
George Orwell's 1984, written as a warning of the dangers of totalitarianism, has a built-in trait ladder for those who wish (for whatever incomprehensible reason) to adventure in his nightmarish dystopia. Note that there is no equivalent trait for Fair in this trait ladder. The concept of "Fair" is a thoughtcrime. Report at once to the Ministry of Love.
| Fudge Traits | # | Newspeak Traits |
|---|---|---|
| Superb | +3 | doubleplusgood |
| Great | +2 | plusgood |
| Good | +1 | good |
| Fair | 0 | [not applicable] |
| Mediocre | -1 | ungood |
| Poor | -2 | plusungood |
| Terrible | -3 | doubleplusungood |
[Originally posted in Fudgery.net in 2006.]
31 March 2016
One Step Beyond
One of the things Fudge does very well is minimize jargon so players can concentrate on role-playing and creative problem-solving. Replacing numbers with adjectives is one of the ways this is achieved. This enables players and GMs alike to describe characters, actions, and situations in terms that are equally meaningful to both the player perspective and the character perspective. This breaks down, however, when a roll generates a result that is above or below the standard trait ladder. It defeats the purpose of the adjectival trait ladder if one must resort to jargon to describe likely results, such as "Terrible −1" or "Superb +2." Surely there is an alternative. This is the windmill at which many Fudge gamers have tilted, and now it is my turn. Again.
A common response to the problem is to extend the trait ladder with additional adjectives. Alas, this complicates matters, and makes it more difficult to memorize and internalize the trait ladder. One of my solutions was to arrange the extended traits in alphabetical order. Even with this fix the extended trait ladder is cumbersome and one is forced to resort to adjectives that are really only synonyms for Superb and Terrible. One of my other solutions was to add one "Very" for each level above Superb or below Terrible, e.g. "Very Terrible" or "Very Very Superb." This, of course, can quickly become ridiculous and distracting in itself.
Then it struck me like a song by Madness. What if we merely translated each extended level as "a step beyond"? Instead of Terrible −1, the character performed One Step Beyond Terrible. Instead of Superb +2, the character's achievement was Two Steps Beyond Superb. This is something characters themselves could pass off as a figure of speech, but which is directly meaningful in game terms and very easy to remember. Technically, the math is still there, but it sounds like something a person could say outside of a role-playing game. "That stunt wasn't just superb. It was three steps beyond superb!"
Maybe it's a stretch, but I think it's crazy enough that it just might work.
A common response to the problem is to extend the trait ladder with additional adjectives. Alas, this complicates matters, and makes it more difficult to memorize and internalize the trait ladder. One of my solutions was to arrange the extended traits in alphabetical order. Even with this fix the extended trait ladder is cumbersome and one is forced to resort to adjectives that are really only synonyms for Superb and Terrible. One of my other solutions was to add one "Very" for each level above Superb or below Terrible, e.g. "Very Terrible" or "Very Very Superb." This, of course, can quickly become ridiculous and distracting in itself.
Then it struck me like a song by Madness. What if we merely translated each extended level as "a step beyond"? Instead of Terrible −1, the character performed One Step Beyond Terrible. Instead of Superb +2, the character's achievement was Two Steps Beyond Superb. This is something characters themselves could pass off as a figure of speech, but which is directly meaningful in game terms and very easy to remember. Technically, the math is still there, but it sounds like something a person could say outside of a role-playing game. "That stunt wasn't just superb. It was three steps beyond superb!"
Four Steps Beyond Superb
Three Steps Beyond Superb
Two Steps Beyond Superb
One Step Beyond Superb
Superb
Great
Good
Fair
Mediocre
Poor
Terrible
One Step Beyond Terrible
Two Steps Beyond Terrible
Three Steps Beyond Terrible
Four Steps Beyond Terrible
Maybe it's a stretch, but I think it's crazy enough that it just might work.
01 January 2016
The Future of Fudge Is Simplicity
Fudge fulfills its purpose best when it is expressed as simply as possible. I am sure it can be played satisfactorily as a substitute for GURPS, and it serves that function admirably well for those who are not averse to massive blocks of statistics, but is that degree of detail really what Fudge does best? In my experience, greater detail almost always equals slower play, and slower play equals decreased immersion in the role and the setting, because one becomes more distracted by the rules themselves. In other words, heavy rules systems impede actual role-playing. I'm not criticizing those who prefer a more detached style of play, but it would be disingenuous to ignore the fact that Fudge was specifically intended to be a game that emphasized the role-playing aspect and sought to eliminate or minimize any game element that might intrude on the act of role-playing. The default style of play in Fudge is subjective character creation, subjective character development, and combat resolved through "story elements." In its rawest form, Fudge is the essence of simplicity and the perfect game with which to introduce new players to role-playing.
Sometimes a little structure is helpful, too, which is why certain objective game elements can be used to reinforce the game's mission of facilitating good role-playing as long as those rules are minimal. They should serve as seeds of inspiration, not as straitjackets. Broader character traits lead to more creative implementation. Generalized combat rules lead to more imaginative tactics and stunts. Minimized rules lead to maximum ingenuity.
This is why I have been increasingly striving to simplify Fudge for my own design and gaming purposes. Anything that doesn't make intuitive sense or slows down the game I minimize or discard. Anything that contributes to decision paralysis I minimize or discard. Anything that causes my vision to blur I minimize or discard. Games such as Sherpa and Ghostbusters have been very instructive in my pruning of the game. Very soon, I'll have an all-purpose "minimalist" version of Fudge that I can adapt to any genre. Then all I will need is a good title.
Sometimes a little structure is helpful, too, which is why certain objective game elements can be used to reinforce the game's mission of facilitating good role-playing as long as those rules are minimal. They should serve as seeds of inspiration, not as straitjackets. Broader character traits lead to more creative implementation. Generalized combat rules lead to more imaginative tactics and stunts. Minimized rules lead to maximum ingenuity.
This is why I have been increasingly striving to simplify Fudge for my own design and gaming purposes. Anything that doesn't make intuitive sense or slows down the game I minimize or discard. Anything that contributes to decision paralysis I minimize or discard. Anything that causes my vision to blur I minimize or discard. Games such as Sherpa and Ghostbusters have been very instructive in my pruning of the game. Very soon, I'll have an all-purpose "minimalist" version of Fudge that I can adapt to any genre. Then all I will need is a good title.
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