Painting Characters in Broad Strokes (Part 2)

[This article originally appeared in 2010 in Fudgerylog, the blog connected to my defunct Fudgery.net site. (Read Part 1.)]

In Part 1, I suggested a method for creating the supporting cast—whether player characters or non-player characters—in a Fudge game adapted from television shows or movies, but there is another method that has been part of the rules since the 1995 edition, and that is the Alternate Section on Character Creation by Ed Heil. In this method, none of the attributes or skills are listed until a situation arises during play when a player must decide whether to use a trait and allocate the necessary levels from his starting pool of levels or refrain from using the trait. The character begins as little more than a description of one or two sentences and a skill level pool (which may also be traded in the traditional manner for attributes or gifts if so desired). Given the sketchiness with which most characters are initially defined in television and cinema, this would seem to be an ideal method of character creation. Characters in these media often evolve as a show progresses, revealing skills and background details the audience didn’t know they possessed (and which probably didn’t even exist until a particular story required them). In a show such as classic Doctor Who, even Companions rarely seem to begin as more than a couple sentences’ worth of description. For my own purposes, however, a compromise might be more effective.

In my current Whovian project, Classic Doctor Who: The Unofficial Role-Playing Game, I will be presenting multiple character creation options, and this will probably be one of them. Companions may begin with a brief description and 3 free levels to be distributed amongst the following attributes: Strength, Stamina, Coordination, Intellect, Willpower, and Charisma. They may choose 1 gift, with further gifts costing an equal number of faults. They will have a skill level pool of perhaps 30 free skill levels that may be distributed or held in reserve or traded for attributes or gifts (or any combination thereof). This makes adapting characters from the original show especially easy. Instead of inventing abilities for Barbara Wright that she never demonstrated in the show, we can simply assign her some skill levels in Teaching, History, and Negotiation, and the rest will be the hands of the player who role-plays her in the game. Who knows what other abilities she may reveal in the course of an adventure? This could make playing an existing Companion just as interesting as creating one’s own.

[Originally posted in Fudgery.net/fudgerylog on 6 October 2010.]

Painting Characters in Broad Strokes (Part 1)

[This article originally appeared in 2010 in Fudgerylog, the blog connected to my defunct Fudgery.net site. (Read Part 2.)]

Here is another option for character traits in a cinematic Fudge game. Some genres, especially those adapted from movies or television shows, do not lend themselves to detailed descriptions of a character’s specific skills. Any attempt to adapt such characters to a role-playing game with an extensive list of skills would require the designer to resort to guesswork in order to make the character "whole" and ready to play. The problem with this approach, apart from the necessity of invoking poetic license, is that most characters in these media are notable not so much for the skills they use, but the decisions they make. This is especially apparent with the majority of the Doctor’s companions on Doctor Who (which I am currently attempting to adapt). Non-player characters, too, of any genre, typically need only the barest of details to fulfill their functions. What is the best way to describe such characters with an economy of traits?

Taking a cue from another role-playing game I hold in high esteem, Sherpa, one possible answer is to discard skills completely and rely on a combination of attributes and attributes-as-occupations. Sherpa has the following attributes in order of importance (according to the author, Steffan O’Sullivan): Profession, Experience, Reasoning, Agility, Strength, and Health. The first two attributes are not the usual inherent characteristics one expects to find, but are actually embodiments of large clusters of skills. Profession must be specified by the player, and this attribute covers all the skills logically related to it. Profession (Knight), for instance, would include such pertinent skills as Riding, Jousting, Swordsmanship, Heraldry, Tactics, Court Etiquette, etc. Experience is an attribute that includes all of the other skills a character has gained in life unrelated to Profession. In Fudge, it is simply a matter of determining some standard attributes for all characters and allowing players to designate one or more occupational attributes. As per the standard rules, the GM might allocate a number of free levels equal to half the total number of attributes to be distributed by the players as they choose.

For my own projects, I think I would rename Profession and Experience as Vocation and Avocation (as in Quasi-Standard Descriptive Traits for Sherpa). I would allow up to four Vocations and/or Avocations in any combination, but each one must be specified. (In my games, Vocations and Avocations are functionally identical, but are differentiated for the sake of describing which attributes are, or have been, professional occupations vs. amateur interests.) The rest of the attributes would be Strength, Stamina, Coordination, Intellect, Willpower, and Charisma. The default attribute level for player characters and extraordinary non-player characters is Fair. The default attribute level for ordinary non-player characters is Mediocre. Characters with four vocational/avocational attributes and the usual six inherent attributes would have 5 free levels to distribute amongst them and may further increase some attributes by lowering others. Any character attempting to use a skill not encompassed by one of his Vocations or Avocations has a default level to be determined by the GM based on her assessment of the skill’s difficulty, i.e. Easy skills have a default level of Mediocre, Average skills of Poor, Hard skills of Terrible, and Very Hard skills of Nonexistent. Apart from this, Vocations and Avocations function in all other ways as normal attributes.

This is one option I will probably include in Classic Doctor Who: The Unofficial Role-Playing Game for creating Companions and non-player characters. There is another option I like, however, which I will describe next time.

[Originally posted in Fudgery.net/fudgerylog on 5 October 2010.]

Doctor Who Observations Part 4

[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.]

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.]

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:

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.]

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.]