The Power of Fate

Since my last article, I’ve had a chance to look over the Fate 3.0 SRD (system reference documents), and I’ll say this: it has a lot going for it. And I’m not just saying that because it’s free. Really.

The specific SRD I was referencing was Spirit of the Century, and while I’m not certain how complete of a picture it gave me, it looks as if the game would be easy to adapt to any number of genres, just by changing what kind of skills and stunts are available.

But that’s not why I’m here. I’m not here to sell you on Fate – I haven’t played it once (yet!), so I don’t have the slightest clue how it would run, even if it looks alright on paper. I’m here to tell you what I liked most about Fate, and what I feel other RPG’s could learn from it. This overlaps somewhat with what I liked most about Mutants and Masterminds, but let’s take a run through it anyway – I’ll draw on both for examples.

1) Aspects and Fate Points.

Similar in some respects to the Complication/Hero Point/Extra Effort rules in Mutants and Masterminds – by far my favorite thing in the system, and I’ve been looking for a way to apply it more broadly across d20 systems in general. Aspects are character traits, relationships, or special objects that are integral to your character concept – they can be positive, negative, or both. Having a good mix is best, because positive applications can be triggered (through Fate points) to grant bonuses when appropriate, while negative applications are basically a way for the GM to pay you (in Fate points) for letting him do something he’d do anyway – screw you over – for the sake of the story, of course! 🙂

Aspects can be almost anything, from “Man of Iron” to “Arrogant Wizard” to “Reckless Poker Player” to “Trained by Qui-Gon Jinn.” A complication might be, say, “Vulnerable to Kryptonite,” but an aspect might be “Kryptonian,” which could include Vulnerable to Kryptonite.

Why they’re good: Aspects/Fate points (and the similar but different Complications/Hero Points) encourage good role-playing, discourage powergaming, and offer a mechanical way to reward the kind of behavior GMs want at their table.  Players get more control over what happens without breaking the game, or permanently boosting a character’s power level. Nice.

As an added bonus, for GM’s creating their own campaign world, having your players give you a list of “Aspects/Complications” is great – the more detailed the better. By putting it on their sheet, they’re telling you what kind of stuff they want to see in the game, and that’s way better than trying to railroad them through something you came up with on your own after a lengthy mind-reading session. If a player has down on their sheet that they have an “Eternal Rivalry with a Psychotic Clown,” then you might as well come up with a good way to use that for one of your villains. Why should you do all the work when you can get your players to do it for you, and they’ll have more fun as a result?

2) The Novel.

This may be specific to Spirit of the Century, but regardless, with a little refluffing it’s a brilliant idea (make it the “Graphic Novel” for a superheroes game, or “The Legend” for a medieval fantasy setting … easy).

Essentially, here’s the idea: Before the campaign starts, hand each of your players a piece of paper and have them write down a title and a summary of an adventure that their PC went on in the past, including a few brief notes about how it affected their character. This is the Novel. Then everyone gives them back to the GM, who mixes them up in a hat and has everyone draw one.  If a player gets his story, he puts it back and draws again.

Your character was a supporting cast member in the adventure that you drew.  Put your character’s name down on the paper, with some notes as to how you contributed to the story.

Now do it again.  No one can be in the same novel twice.

The result? Built-in connections between your character and at LEAST two other party members, possibly more. You know each other, and have already worked together in some small capacity. Make sure you note whose books you appeared in as well as who appeared in yours.

I’m always on the lookout for good ways to avoid the whole “Tavern” issue, so this seems like a good step to take in almost any RPG, though flavored a little differently in other settings. Bare minimum, there is now significantly less than 6 degrees of separation between any two party members.

Genius.

3) Combat that emphasizes creativity and cleverness over “Kewl Powerz.”

Okay, this one is kind of subjective, but I’m going to throw it out there anyway. The problem with D&D 4th Edition has rarely been the game itself. The problem is the players.

Yeah, I sound like a game designer. Bear with me a second.

I was watching an interview (Meet the Author) with R.A. Salvatore that I found over on Grognardia. Not a place that often caters to my style of gameplay, but it’s funny how much you can find to agree on with someone of a differing perspective when you put some effort into it. But that’s a digression.

Salvatore said of 4th Edition that when the game devolves into “I use X Daily Power,” it’s just a card game, and it dies. When you have creative players who describe what the character is doing and use the mechanics of the power as a rough guideline for their description, who stop thinking about the miniatures on the table and focus on the characters in their epic struggle, then the system really sings. That’s when it hit me.

That’s true of any RPG ever. If the players aren’t into it, aren’t being creative, and above all aren’t stepping into the shoes of their character, the game is going to die inside.

Both Fate and Mutants and Masterminds operate with this as the default assumption of the game – that’s just how they work. You can’t really do anything without describing what your character does and how they do it (or if you can, you shouldn’t), and if the players get into it it’s pure gold. But no matter how the game is structured mechanically, if the players and GM don’t get immersed . . . why aren’t you just playing a board game? Or a card game? Or a video game? I hear that Halo: Reach is excellent.

For the GM, the best advice I can give is that you have to start the process – you have to describe, describe, describe, and don’t let your players get away with, “I use Twin-Strike. Again.” Use sound effects! Stunning visuals! Stand up and demonstrate if you have to! Just don’t let the game turn into Magic: The Gathering.

Not that there’s anything wrong with Magic: The Gathering, mind you, but that isn’t really why you sat down to tell stories together.

Sure, it might be faster to just name the power, but isn’t there something superior about, “I duck and weave, evading the Orc’s attacks, striking quickly with my blades,” or, “I slide between the ogre’s legs and slash at his Achilles tendon?” “I swing my shield in an arc to throw him off balance, then throw my weight forward to knock him backward?” Or any number of other possibilities? No one else at the table cares which move you’re using, just make it and make it sound awesome. Even (especially?) if it’s “just” a Basic Attack.

I’m sure there’s plenty of DMs out there for whom this is old hat, and have already figured this out ages ago, but for everyone who knows how to run the game there’s another DM out there who’s still making their players consult spell mechanics and look up all their feats at the table instead of just playing the game. Not that they shouldn’t have that sort of thing memorized by now, mind you . . .

So, what does it all mean? Okay, since you asked, gentle readers, I’ll tell you.

There is no magic bullet. There is no perfect game system that will instantly do everything right for you the first time, but every last one of them has something to offer. Some more than others, sure, depending on your needs. But nearly every game has something to teach you.

The trick is finding it, and figuring out how best to apply it.

Happy gaming, happy holidays, and may your game table be the one where the fun is this season. Excelsior!