A Weekend, or Five Years?

Yesterday, I got this tweet, so today I want to talk about it:

I wrote this game over the weekend” is like saying “I painted the Mona Lisa in a day”; it makes the rest of us #jealous

Putting aside the self-deprecating ”trust me, HK-TK is no Mona Lisa,” that it’s only 6500 words, and that other people designed most of the parts to this — that reaction is something I’ve thought about my whole adult life, as it’s been said often to me ever since college.

Except it was said about being a programmer. A few of us were always done with coding labs within ten minutes, when we were given an hour. Other people who were struggling in class would ask us how we were so fast at it. The answer was both simple and useless: in my case, I’ve been fucking with computers since I was six years old. And while the specific subject matter is new, it builds on subject matter I’ve been contacting with for years and years. I certainly wouldn’t have been able to finish these exams back then (putting aside that I might have just walked away to find a juice box).[1]

No, I know I’m not a particularly fast writer; at least, not consistently so. On the other hand, my friend Matt Forbeck is known for his Herculean writing feats. He’s often teased on Twitter as a robot, or we “lesser” writers tease each other about our own tiny wordcounts. Matt’s an icon when it comes to our industry. But, just as I wouldn’t be able to do the coding things I can without the nearly-three decades of practice and scholarship, neither could he have done his tremendous daily wordcounts right out of the gate.

Well, unless you believe some of the Myths of Forbeck, in which case he was born from the written word itself, so yes, he could.

That’s because what we’re doing in a day or weekend or whatever relies on what we’ve been doing for years before that. I’ve been solidly fucking around with RPG text & game design since 2006, and half-assedly well before that. So I have a sense of what reactions & rewards I want, which pieces produce what reactions, what happens when you put different pieces together, how to present them in text, etc. I’m not saying HK-TK actually works; it hasn’t been tested. But it certainly isn’t something I could have written in 2006. Or 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010. Maybe I could have last year.[2]

I’m sure it’s the same thing with John Harper’s Lady Blackbird, which was also quickly written up & visually designed if I remember right.

With time & practice comes understanding of your craft, and with that comes loads and loads of little tools in your mind that allow you to do things faster or better. And while this might impress some people, the reason I’m not self-impressed is because I see all the little marks of time in this document, the mistakes I’ve made in the past or seen others make, places where I am trying things that have worked in the past, stuff like that. I see five years of practice in a hastily written, unedited document.

Pretty much anyone can do that. Just takes time & practice. Which means it just really takes passion. So if you’re passionate about something, start putting some more time & practice in. It’ll pay off like you won’t believe.

And with enough passion, time & practice, perhaps any one of us could ascend to be like Forbeck. ;)

- Ryan

P.S. And just because something looks easy to another person doesn’t mean it was. But the hardest parts of writing HK-TK is another post.

[1] And I certainly wouldn’t have been able to finish them without exposure to how other people do things, learning from them. Not unlike taking pieces other people have designed, seriously thinking about them, tinkering with them, and putting them together. Same principle: no one of us is an island.

[2] Disregarding the fact that I wouldn’t have been inspired by Push until 2009.

HK-TK, a Game I Wrote Last Weekend

For the last few months, ever since I hacked Technoir to play Push, I had thoughts about making a Push-style game. Some ideas hit home after I wrote about using Unknown Armies passions for characters in other games. And in order to make it leave my head (while also using it to take a break from working on some projects that I’ve been working on for quite a while), I challenged myself to write this in a weekend.

Technically, I fell short. I spent two hours today working on it. Anyway, if you want to check out my little, hastily-written game about psychics in Hong Kong’s underworld, here you go.

Later this week, I’ll talk about where the various influences of many games come from and why they’re there. Because, in my mind, that’s actually the important part of this experiment. (Though I do hope the game actually works and is fun, too!)

Enjoy!

- Ryan

Mythender Excerpt: Badass, Epic Feats

The following is an excerpt from Mythender, and is a work-in-progress. I was having fun with the language, and I thought I would share to get some reactions. The following covers the rules for doing super awesome shit outside of a battle (though not some of the related rules, like creating lasting blights that mark the land or terrorizing mortals for power from this act).

Enjoy!


Performing Badass, Epic Feats

Mythenders are incredible titans, who can do amazing feats! Break mountains, move rivers, control mortals—there’s little you cannot accomplish. But that power comes at a cost, for those feats are powered by your Mythic nature, and from there lies corruption.

When you want to do an epic feat and you’re not in a battle, answer the following:

Is This Feat Mundane or Uninteresting?

Then don’t use these rules. It just happens, with no benefit or further effect.

Is This Feat Inhumanly Possible?

Answer these questions:

  • Are you capable of this feat?
  • If so, are you creating or destroying a blight?
  • Are you embracing or resisting corruption?

Are you capable of this feat?

No Mythender is omnipotent; you each have limitations. You can accomplish an epic feat if it fits under one of these conditions:

  • It is merely something that takes godly might, speed, skill, wit, etc.
  • You can explain how your Weapons enable you to do this feat.
  • You can justify it either directly or inspired by your Fate’s power.

In addition, if there’s a blight that would prevent you from doing this, and the feat you’re doing isn’t attacking that blight, you’re restrained from this action. At least, for the time being.

If you cannot do the feat because it doesn’t fit any of the above, don’t worry! Once you fall and become a Myth, you can totally do it.

If you can do the feat, then it is done, unquestioningly. You and the Mythmaster describes what happens.

Are you creating or destroying a blight?

Epic actions can create or destroy blights. This is optional; not every epic action needs to deal with a blight. (For more on Blights, see page XX.)

If creating a new blight, pay 2 Might, take a new blight card and write its description down. Write your Mythender’s name on the “Created by” line. Finally, check off the first charge box and the Lasting box.

In lieu of creating a new blight, you can bolster an existing blight that you or another Mythender created. Rewrite the blight’s description to reflect how its more powerful, then check off two more charge boxes.

If destroying a blight, pay 2 Might, take the blight card, write your name on the “Destroyed by” line, and cross the card out. Or, if you’re feeling particularly theatrical, rip the card up.

You may only create or destroy one blight if you’re resisting corruption (below).

If embracing corruption, you can create and destroy as many as you can afford. You can use Might gained from embracing corruption to pay for them.

Are you embracing or resisting corruption?

The choice you have here is if you are trying to use Mythic power while attempting to resist its corruption, hoping that it does not change you and make you closed to becoming a Myth; or you can embracing what the world of Myth wants you to become, and gain power from it.

Embracing Corruption

If you are embracing your mythic nature, this is also Terrorizing Mortals for Power, even if you’re doing this in a “nice” way or for kind reasons. If there were no mortals in this moment to begin with, the Mythmaster will introduce some witness your horrific power. Do everything in those rules as well.

If this action assaults or removed a mortal’s free will, it is always embracing corruption. That’s pretty inhuman.

Resisting Corruption

If you are attempting to resist corruption, this is a risk. Grab two dice if the Mythmaster says there are no mortals to witness your act, or one if there are. (Note: the Mythmaster will usually play handball here and introduce mortals in a scene where there didn’t seem to be any. Mortals are drawn to horrific power.)

Reminder: Companions don’t count as mortals, because they no longer have true free will.

Roll the dice. If either come up 5 or 6, you have resisted Myth’s corrupting influence! You’re unchanged. Otherwise, treat as the result of Terrorizing Mortals for Power, except you only claim 1 Might. There is less reward if you resist your mythic nature.

Oh, and if you do fail, the Mythmaster might create a new Blight for the Myth based on how you were unable to contain your nature. Or not. Whatever.

Describe the Feat and Push Forward

You and the Mythmaster should describe what happens, based on blights created or destroyed and how you handled corruption.  Once everyone at the table is satisfied with playing out that moment, move on.

Limits to These Gains

While you can do incredible feats, you do not have limitless power. After a feat, you must rest for a few moments—walking around and talking will suffice. And if you do one shortly afterward (around two hours or less), you will not gain any additional Might. The Mythic World cannot grant you limitless power while you still have the scent of mortality about you.

Examples

Resisting Corruption

Rashid wishes to put out a raging inferno consuming a town and surrounding forest, one started by fire giants in the prior battle. (Raging Inferno is a persistent blight.) So he summons the very spirits of the fire and shove them back down into the deep earth.

Now, no one had mentioned anything about the fire having spirits before, but the Mythmaster knows better than to question it. Of course it’s fire spirits! And it’s interesting, so we proceed.

The feat’s inhumanly possible, all right. Qualifies for these rules. And Rashid is capable of this feat through his relic weapon, The Book of Dominion over Demons and Spirits. No question about that. He’s focused on destroying the blight, so that question is taken care of.

All that remains is to see if he’s embracing or resisting corruption. He could easily embrace it, shouting at fire spirits and making everyone in the town bow before his terrible awe. But no, he decides that mortals should keep their free will or some junk, and resists.

There are mortals around, so Rashid’s player picks up just one die. He rolls it, getting a 5! He successfully resists corruption! (Which is handy, because I haven’t described how Terrorizing Mortals for Power works yet.)

So he describes forcing the fire spirits into the deep earth, and the fire vanishing with it. The people witnessing still bow before his terrible awe, but not in a “I accidentally destroyed your free will while trying to help” way.

Embracing Corruption

Unna arrives at a village after some monsters have already slaughtered many of its people. So she figures, hey, why not just bring them back?

That certainly isn’t boring. Her Fate is Death, so that fits with her Fate’s power: Power over the life and death of mortals. There’s no blight in play that’s she’s destroying—there are no inactive blights like “people are dead”. She also doesn’t really care about creating one, though she could make one like “my loyal risen army” or the like. But that’s not Unna’s point. She just wants some dead people to be…less dead.

As for corruption, her player says “Bring it on!” Because corruption is sexy, and also gives you sweet, sweet mythic power. Sure, it’ll mean that the mortals she’s bringing back to life will have their free will destroyed, but them’s the breaks, I guess.

The rest of this example is covered in Terrorizing Mortals for Power (p. XX), since Unna’s embracing corruption.

Not Bothering With These Rules

After the battle against giant scorpion-men, Erik the Hated jumps from one side of a chasm to the other, in order to retrieve his sword, Viperbane. The scorpion-general knocked it out of his hands as his last action, as it was being totally ended. Since there’s nothing interesting going on, just a bit of color to show how casually Erik gets his sword back, none of the Epic, Badass Feats rules are used.

Now, if Erik’s player wanted to make a big deal about it, he could push it further, but he just wanted to say “Yeah, I just wanted to describe how I got my sword back. Let’s move on.” Everyone’s happy.


- Ryan

On Treating Freelancers With Decency

As much as I would like to address this to those publishers that are a problem, such things fall on deaf ears. So instead I want to address this to a certain subset of freelancers: those who don’t need the money.

I know quite a few freelancers who just enjoy doing work in a field, and have a great day job or spouse or both, and don’t care about the money they’re getting from some project they’re on. As a result, they don’t put effort into making sure things like contracts are delivered or payment is even relatively prompt.

But from the perspective of publishers who are forming how they’re doing business, what you’re doing hurts your colleagues who do depend on this for money, as there’s no difference to them between freelancers who need the money and freelancers who don’t. Those who do, those who have to struggle to invoke Fuck You, Pay Me, we looks like chumps because we’re sitting alongside you, who isn’t asking for that.

So if you want to help your fellow freelancers, chase after contracts and payment. Help us out by being a constant reminder of that, and of helping us being a unified force — one that doesn’t create incentives to continue hiring people who don’t need the money, and force unscrupulous publishers to shape up or dry up.

- Ryan

(There’s a related post somewhere in me about those freelancers who need the money but are timid about it.)

Using UA Passions to Develop Depth

During the Moral Ambiguity in Gaming panel at NorWesCon, the charismatic Clinton J. Boomer — a fellow Unknown Armies fan — made a great point about creating characters of depth using some ideas from UA: specifically, the three passions. This came from a conversation about how everyone is the hero of their own internal story, and no one self-identifies as evil except for the mustache-twirling villains[1].

For those unfamiliar with the best RPG in existence, I say to you to buy it. It’s available in PDF now. Still, it wouldn’t be much of a blog post if I just said “hey, buy it, mic drop.”

There are three Passions: the Fear Passion, the Rage Passion, and the Noble Passion. (They are also called Stimuli in the text.) Each is something that is a hot button for a character: what terrifies them, what enrages them, what causes them to raise above their id. The important thing is that every single character has all three[2]. And that’s something that can be brought to a game to make every character something beyond a cardboard cutout of good or evil.

They are always form the imperfect perspective of the character, sometimes internal struggles and sometimes external issues. I’ll skirt the spirit of copyright by pasting the example passions below:

Fear Passion Examples

  • Fire. Fire claimed your house, and with it your wardrobe, your record collection, not to mention all your photos and yearbooks. It’s bad stuff, not just dangerous and painful but unpredictable as well.
  • Foreigners. When you were overseas, you always knew they were talking about you behind your back, jabbering away in that weird monkey language. Now they’re all around you, even in the streets of your home town.
  • Temptation. You don’t drink anymore. When you get drunk you do terrible things, so you don’t drink. Much. No, not at all. In fact, you’re careful to stay away from bars, restaurants, and that liquor store on Third and Main.
  • Possession. You don’t like to talk about the exorcism. You don’t like to say the creature’s name. You know it’s still out there and calling it could bring it right back.
  • Dogs. You’ve got marks on you from the red jaws and white teeth. Even those barky little shit dogs make you nervous, and big beasts like a Doberman or Saint Bernard? Forget it.
  • Victimization. You weren’t the one who got hurt, you were just the one they made talk. You tried to be tough, and that made it all your fault. Now you can’t stand to see people get hurt. To you, watching the victim is worse than being the victim.

Rage Passion Examples

  • Backchat. Is it too much to ask that people be polite? You understand someone who throws a punch at you, but a sarcastic loudmouth really gets your goat.
  • Enemy Drivers. You’re an excellent driver. You wish all the bad drivers around you would just realize it, hang up their cell phones, and get the hell out of your way.
  • Laziness. When someone does a half-assed job, they’re not just disrespecting their duties or their boss. They’re flipping the bird to everyone who has to put up with their shoddy work. God help one of your employees if you catch her slacking.
  • Sleaze. Booze. Pornography. Foul language. Toilet humor. The country is swimming in filth, and no one’s doing anything about it. It’s time someone took a stand. Someday a real rain is gonna fall.
  • Stuck-up Assholes. Just because you didn’t go to college and don’t drive a Lexus doesn’t mean those rich fucks get to look down at you. Goddamn snobs. Someone ought to take them down a notch.
  • Those Fat Cats in Washington. Democrats and Republicans are just the competing teams in the “Screw the Taxpayer” Super Bowl, brought to you live by the Army, the Post Office, and your local Police Department.

Noble Passion Examples

  • Entertainment. How much better would the world be if people devoted as much effort to making one another happy as they do to getting rich or becoming powerful? You believe laughter is the best medicine—so if you cheer someone up now, the future takes care of itself.
  • Historical Preservation. If we can’t learn from the past, we’re doomed to repeat it, and all those who suffered did so in vain. Preserving our links to the past gives us a firm foundation to build a better future.
  • Landmine Removal. Landmines are deadly, indiscriminate, and a bitch to remove. You’ve seen their carnage firsthand and you’re dedicated to removing them physically (by working as a minesweeper) and politically (through activism to get landmines banned).
  • One for All. Most people are crap, but you’ve made a tight bond with your friends. They’re all right, and your loyalty to them is unshakeable.
  • Pedagogy. Education is the key to it all. Knowledge rinses away prejudice, eases misery, and exalts all that is good about the human condition. Educating others is your mission in life.
  • Protect the Elderly. Most old people have already had seven courses of misery and heartache in their lifetimes without an extra helping in the eleventh hour.

How to Use This Elsewhere

This should be straightforward: when you have a significant character, come up with their passions. It doesn’t matter if there’s a mechanical hook, though some games (like Fate) make that easy to do.

It’s easy to make a one-dimension good or bad person. It’s far more interesting if there’s more going on. Take one of the heavy NPCs in Unknown Armies, Eponymous. He’s a straight-up sociopath[3], and as described: “When Abel says jump, Eponymous throws you off a building.”

  • Rage: Betrayal.
  • Fear: Poison. Dying of a stab wound or gunshot doesn’t scare Eponymous nearly as much as the thought of dying from some slow, agonizing venom.
  • Noble: Throughout it all, Eponymous has always wanted to do a good job

Now we have something more interesting that “powerful sociopath that will kill you as soon as look at you.” We now know what makes him mad — enough to motivate or enough to cause a mistake. We know what he’s deathly afraid of. We know what he believes in.

That’s a take on a villain. What about the other side, someone who is on the surface totally good?

Lili Morgan, agent of the House of Renunciation (which doesn’t need more explanation for this), who believes in helping people:

  • Rage: People who are as selfish and uncaring as she used to be.
  • Fear: Unpredictable ascensions scare Lili.
  • Noble: The abstract, general welfare of humanity. She doesn’t care about individual people.

The noble one is obvious, much like Eponymous’ rage one. But seeing how this genuinely nice person would get angry & break her sense of peace gives us a bit more. And her fear stimulus is the sort of ones that creates a drive, something beyond “hey, everyone should be compassionate and caring.”

What About Your Game?

Do you have a villain in your game that just exists as a foil for the PCs? What’re his/her/its passions?

Do you have a benevolent character in your game that just exists to help the PCs? What about his/hers/its?

- Ryan

[1] The first time I remember seeing this in full effect was in playing Final Fantasy VIII, where Seifer, after capturing your party, exclaimed about how he was the hero and his day of bringing the villains — your character — to justice was at hand. Fuck yeah.

[2] There’s a mechanical incentive to make interesting ones, but that’s beyond the scope of this. Again, go buy it. :)

[3] Which UA has mechanics for. And they aren’t positive ones.

Rethinking Mythender’s Visual Design

I’m not as far along on Mythender as I’d like — a function of Doing Free Work and the issues around that[1]. Part of that is because of the form factor that I thought was genius turned into a liability. I have a booklet for the rules outside of a battle (which is getting rather large), the rules for in a battle (which is also getting rather large, enough to where I took an optional rule out), the GM stuff, character creation, even a “booklet of contents” that really just serves to point out that the other booklets exist and some basic tone-setting stuff.

It doesn’t work, so I’m going to ditch the idea. I’m running out of room, so I can’t fit in examples. And I have a hard cap at 32 pages for a given booklet, because that’s eight sheets of paper, and stapling more than that in the middle is asking for even more trouble.

I’m dead sure it would work for other games, but isn’t working here. The idea is of making the game easy to print & have at the table, but I don’t think that’s going to be possible with this setup, which means I shouldn’t sacrifice clarity for this goal that I can’t achieve. The better product then is the one that’s clear rather than the one that’s printable.

That means one PDF that contains everything, and shifting it from having natively printable dimensions to having tablet screen dimensions. (Which isn’t a huge shift, from 8.5″x5.5″ to having a 3×2 setup, but changing the paging elements to be uniform rather than left/right will take a bit of work, and that changes the atomic unit of information from the two-page spread to the screen — what a reader sees at one given moment of time.)

Mythender will still have booklet-sized stuff; after all, I have to still make twelve Mythic Worlds thanks to the Random Kindness Bundle $250 backers. And instead of making larger booklets that contain everything, I can make smaller booklets that are quick-references & other handy stuff.

(There’s a larger point here about how in the process of open design, you’re going to backpedal because some ideas don’t work, and what that means to the work and the process. But, as I’m fond of saying, that’s another post.)

- Ryan

[1] I didn’t get paid for Mythender, even though people paid for it, so it’s free work. Incidentally, this is why when I do charity stuff, I know not to take offers of work to support that charity unless the work’s already done. Why did I do that this time? Because I knew I wouldn’t totally flake on myself. :)

Two Forms of Developmental Editing

In my experience, there are two major forms of developmental editing: high-level with just comments, and high-level with comments and adjustments.

It’s important to know the difference between them, and which one you should be doing on a given pass & project.

High-level with just comments

You do these sort of passes when the writing is rough, often intentionally so–experimental work, early passes on a long project, that sort of thing.

When you’re doing these, it’s important to explain what problems exist and what needs to be done. Light copy edits when they catch your eye, but your efforts need to focus on communicating issues, because other work you put in will likely be rendered moot in revision. (That said, sometimes even when the work itself is rendered moot, a writer seeing those small copy edits is useful for future guidance.)

What’s really important is to not get caught up in rewrite work. If you start in on a part of the manuscript that would take much more effort to rewrite than the communicate the issue, don’t rewrite it. That’s not your job at the moment.

High-level with comments and adjustments

On the other hand, some passes come with the expectation that the editor will do a significant portion of rewriting. it’s akin to the above, except those comments you’re making about rewriting are comments you’re making to yourself.

I’ve found I like to do the just comments pass first, with thoughts on rewriting, and then go and tackle those rewrites. That avoids the perilous issue of doing rewrites as you encounter text, only to discover that later text handles what you’re doing or you’re accidentally contracting elements in your rewrites.

Of course, not everything can be easily rewritten by the editor. Some points are discussion or flags for future passes. And comments about why something was rewritten is helpful if the draft is going back to a writer or other member of the team.

A word of warning

If the developmental editing pass like this, with heavy rewrites, goes right to layout, expect the book to be fucked. The pressures of doing dev work and rewrites on top of copy work on what otherwise passes through means that you’re likely to have issues that require a copy editor to sort through. In essence, your dev editor became a writer, and that makes going right to layout akin to having a writer skip editing and go to layout.

So, you know, avoid that.

That said, if the process is writer->dev editor->writer->same dev editor, but doing copy, then you’re probably sorted out.

Doing the wrong one

The trick to this is to know what should be done, because doing the wrong one can derail a project once it gets out of the editor’s hands and people discover the miscommunication of role. Doing just comments when rewrites are expected means the schedule’s thrown off, as work that was expected to be done wasn’t. On the other hand, doing rewrites when just comments are expected means pressure on the schedule to complete a more intensive job than anticipated, with the possibility of friction when a writer was expecting comments and to do the adjusting herself.

Either way, as an editor, it sucks to find out I was doing the wrong one on a particular pass. Most of the time, I’ve done the “rewrite” when “just comments” were wanted, and I’ve stressed myself out pushing a draft forward that didn’t need as much push from me as I thought. It makes the end of that work sloppy, and when the schedule is anticipating only comments, it means pushing the schedule back.

How to do the right one

Ask.

Now, it might not make sense right away to ask. After all, sometimes the answer is “I don’t know, editor. You tell me?” In those cases, read the manuscript some first. If you routinely come up to places that need extensive rewriting, that’s a good time to bring up some issues and ask what’s expected, then compare what’s expected with what you can do in the time frame that you’re given.

(And places where the rules need reworking, well, that’s a different beast entirely.)

- Ryan

My 90-Minute Rule

Yesterday, I mentioned on Twitter that I was violating my 90-minute rule, and the draft I’m working on was suffering for it. The 90-minute rule is “stop working on whatever I’m doing after 90 minutes and take a break.”

The reason I have this rule is partly psychochemical — I have anxiety issues that are linked to the sort of stuff I work on, and the form that takes is that I get tired quickly due to my brain running overtime–especially when I’m editing, as I’m keeping in mind multiple reader viewpoints at once. When I hit around two hours non-stop, I poop out, and the work suffers.

Now, you might ask why not make it a two-hour rule? Because it takes far less time to take a break after 90 minutes to reset myself than it does after two hours. If I can get my brain to relax when it’s not exhausted, it’ll start again faster than if I try that once I am.

This becomes a problem when I’m on deadline, but since the reason I’m working on a project is because of my expertise and skill, I have to choose between getting something done now and have it suffer, or take the pace I need to and risk running the deadline. And since having work suffer is something that’ll haunt me & the work after publication, I end to take the second route.

But because I am, I feel guilty, which then causes me to unconsciously push myself anyway. And then I crash, which can cause me to run the deadline anyway. So it’s sort of a catch-22, but in the moment I’m not thinking about that.

This is something I’ve spent years coming to terms with. I am not as fast as many of my peers, which frustrates me. And I suspect I never will be, because of how my brain is wired. (And this is with taking anti-anxiety medication, which is necessary for me to work at all now[1].)

Thus, much like eating lunch, this is one of those rules that exists for the purpose of making me a more production & healthier creative. But it’s something that’s easy to space on, which is why it’s an explicit rule I try to follow.

- Ryan

[1] As crippling headaches come are a constant when I’m not on medication.

Caught My Attention: Great Blogging March 2012

There’s been some great blogging happening recently, so I thought I would share some with y’all.

The Game Mechanic

My friend Jesse Coombs (@TheGameMechanic) has started a really cool tumblr: gamemechanicoftheday.tumblr.com. Jesse takes a game mechanic from a board game, card game, RPG, video games, whatever he’s been playing, and talks about it. He’s talked about how in Jason Morningstar’s Downing & Falling, putting items found on a post-it note rather than on a character sheet promotes an interesting dynamic; the social effects of taunt mechanics in Street Fighter; the value of “defenders win ties” in Risk; etc.

Check it out. He’s got some really neat thoughts to share.

Joe McDaldno on Kickstarter Best Practices

Joe McDaldno recently completed his crowdfunding campaign for Monsterhearts, and has been on both sides of crowdfunding endeavors. He shares some thoughts on best practices when you engage in crowdfunding, not just for creators but also for consumers. If you’re looking to engage in crowdfunding, or have before, check it out & share your thoughts.

Quinn Murphy’s New Project: Thoughtcrime

Quinn Murphy’s putting his game passion back to work on a project/blog called Thoughtcrime. It’s a new project, and he’s doing it with Ryven Cedrylle and David Welsh. If you recall how passionate he was doing At-Will, you know to expect great things from Thoughtcrime. It’s pretty new, so rather than point out individual articles, I invite you to browse what’s there.

Rob Donoghue’s Back to Blogging

One of the brightest minds in the RPG blogosphere, Rob Donoghue, has started up again. He talks about looking at the d6 in Cortex Plus as normal, two lessons we can learn from Bulldogs!, and I expect more great stuff from him.

 

That’s it for now. If there’s something you think should be on my radar, let me know!

- Ryan

Exponential Shifts in Fate

In Fate, your degree of success over a difficulty is measured in shifts. When you roll equal to the difficulty, you have zero shifts. Roll one over the difficulty, and you have one shift. Two over means two shifts, and so on.

As I am reading over Fate Core, I started thinking hard about that assumption. And how that needn’t always be the case.

Imagine it the shifts generated were exponential, like so:

  • Meeting the difficulty = 0 shifts
  • Beating by 1 = 1 shift
  • Beating by 2 = 2 shifts (so far, the same)
  • Beating by 3 = 4 shifts
  • Beating by 4 = 8 shifts
  • Beating by 5 = 16 shifts
  • etc, doubling each time.
Now, this could get a bit crazy, and for those who aren’t math-oriented, a pain to deal with. So…what if this was an option unlocked with a stunt? Off the hip, I’ll call this a Mastery Stunt. List the skill involve, the situation where it applies, and you gain this bonus.

Master Fencer: (Weapons) When you are fighting off a horde of mooks, your shifts are exponential.

Master Engineer: (Engineering) When you are building or fixing something, your shifts are exponential.

Master Against the Dark Arts: (Wizardry) When you are fighting against the dark arts (necromancy, curses, and other evil magics), your shifts are exponential.

If that seems too large, it could be unlocked by spending a Fate point. No idea if this works, but it came to mind, so I thought I would throw it out there.

(Incidentally, stuff like this won’t be in Core, because it’s not, well, core to Fate. But I am considering it for a Fate build I’m tinkering with.)

- Ryan

You may have noticed that this is a week where I’m throwing out half-ideas. I wrote about doing this quite a bit ago, but found myself not doing it as often as I feel I should.