Mister Monster's Workshop

Tag: Game design

  • Principles of magehood

    This week, I’ve been hacking away at my Mage: the Ascension port. I think, at this point, that I have run enough of the game to actually get a feel for it, so now it’s just a matter of getting it out on paper in a way that’ll make me remember it (and possibly explain my way of doing it to others who want to try, but let’s be honest, it’s mostly for my own benefit).

    I’ve written up a new set of Principles that are meant to inform everything the Storyteller does. It was tricky to formulate them in ways that weren’t specific to any particular paradigm, but which still felt flavourful and non-generic. Not sure if I succeeded. Have a look:

    • Be a fan of the player characters. The characters are the larger-than-life, troubled antiheroes of this story of magic and horror. Give them every chance to make choices, and to suffer for them; to stand tall, or fall short; to find wisdom, or be brought low by hubris. Let them show who they are, not as a favour to them, but because you want to see it too.
    • Start and end with the fiction. A move is only ever triggered by the fiction, and its outcome must always ripple through the fiction. Never say something happens because the rules say so. Instead, show what event or condition in the world led to it. Likewise, don’t just state mechanical outcomes (e.g., “mark a wound box” or “take +1 forward”)—explain what they mean (e.g., “your arm’s sliced fending off the dagger,” or “a blessing guides your aim”).
    • Offer no escape from magic. To be Awakened is to live an interesting life, whether you want to or not. Mystery and intrigue will find you. Wherever the players go, let their magical destinies ensnare them ever deeper. Never let them rest for long without introducing a new problem or worsening an old one. The path to Ascension waits for no one — if you don’t seek it out, it will come knocking.
    • Showcase eccentric oddballs, alternative subcultures, and fringe beliefs. Mages aren’t normal people — and neither are the Sleepers they deal with. Neo-pagans and techbros, political extremists and cultists, fringe scientists and secret societies: every NPC should believe in something, and that something should be out of step with the mainstream. Some chase utopia. Others just want to feel something. But none of them believe in half-measures.
    • Contrast the sordid with the sublime. Mages deal in higher truths — glorious destinies, lofty ideals, and sacred dreams. But each is also a creature of fragile, hungry flesh. They reach for the stars while standing ankle-deep in mud. A path to godhood may lead through alleys so filthy and grimy that the very idea of magic seems like a cruel joke.
    • Fill the world with mismatched fragments of possible realities. Behind the curtain, countless paradigms clash — each one shaping reality, each wildly incompatible with the others. Mages make belief into truth, at least part of the time, leaving contradictions and broken stories in their wake. And the world is littered with the detritus of past workings — wonders abandoned, horrors forgotten. Mix mythologies and genres freely: let the world itself seem unsure whether it’s a wuxia epic, a spy thriller, a Norse saga, or a psychedelic fever dream.
    • Give everything arcane significance. Everything is magic, sooner or later. Every office drone on their 35-minute lunch break is unknowingly enacting a grand occult working of efficiency and monetary worship. Every addict shooting up in a condemned building is fumbling toward ecstatic revelation. No action is without philosophical weight — whether the actors know it or not. When imagining a scene, always ask: what higher vision — successful or failed — shaped this place?
    • Place a mystery behind every corner but keep it half-hidden. For a mage, the world is one vast riddle. Nothing is ever straightforward — there’s always a hidden force at work, a scheme unfolding, an impossibility pushing against Consensus. But mysteries rarely announce themselves. What players see first is a minor oddity: a strange coincidence, a subtle wrongness. Whether they pursue it is up to them.
    • Wrap the fantastic in the prosaic. This complements contrast the sordid with the sublime. Every act of magic brings consequences — and depends on logistics. A face-melting curse ends with a trip to the ER and a surgeon muttering “acid attack.” The God of Storms must be summoned with ingredients that arrive in shipping boxes. Spells punch holes in reality — but the rest of the time, mages live in the same world we do, and must navigate its systems.
    • Portray social and environmental ruin. The World of Darkness is a monument to failed utopias. Cities meant to be marvels now rot with smog, slums, and broken infrastructure. Streets reek of exhaust. Everyone’s at once overmedicated and sicker than ever. The system is crumbling — but for now, it clings to life with a rictus grip, too stubborn or afraid to admit it’s already dying.
    • Show spots of beauty and meaning, always in danger of being erased. The world isn’t dead — just almost. In the middle of polluted hellscapes, some still fight for dignity. Amid mass-produced junk, real art and brilliance survive. These things are always at risk — of being destroyed by bitterness, or forgotten in apathy — but they are hope. Let them shine.
    • Make everything someone’s creation, but only sometimes under anyone’s control. Nothing just happens. Every event, horror, or miracle began with someone’s will — or their failure to act. Every demon was summoned. Every curse began as fear. But control is an illusion. Most magical acts spiral far beyond what anyone intended. Chaos is more common than success.

  • Fiddling with Talents

    Fiddling with Talents

    This week, I have been working on my Dark Heresy port. I’ve decided that I’m mostly satisfied with how the rules work, but they need to be easier to look up. Since the system is so based on slight upgrades to existing abilities, it leads to a lot of flipping back and forth through files to figure out what a character is even capable of. That won’t do.

    The approach I decided on is to make each player’s character sheet less of a copy-paste from the rules and more something you build up according to the rules. That way, you can ignore all the rules that don’t affect that particular player, and concentrate on what applies to them, personally.

    So I’ve been writing the basic moves up like this:

    When you show healthy paranoia, roll +Perception. 10-14, you achieve a Minor Success. 15-19, you achieve a Basic Success. 20+, you achieve a Major Success.
    • Minor Success: if you are in some sense in danger at the moment, you sense an eerie feeling of menace, but no details of the nature of the threat.
    • Basic Success: the same, but if you are in fact in danger, the GM also gives you a hint as to how and why.
    • Major Success: you learn precisely what the danger is.
    • Absolute Success: you not only learn what danger is threatening you, but also the most promising way of avoiding it.
    Examples: Stopping to smell the air, glancing behind you, thinking back on what danger signs you might have missed.

    Then a player will start out with a move that looks like this:

    When you show healthy paranoia, roll +Perception. 10-14, if you are in some sense in danger at the moment, you sense an eerie feeling of menace, but no details of the nature of the threat. 15-19, the same, but if you are in fact in danger, the GM also gives you a hint as to how and why. 20+, you learn precisely what the danger is.

    Examples: Stopping to smell the air, glancing behind you, thinking back on what danger signs you might have missed.

    Then, if that player takes the Awareness (Known) Talent (which bumps up the results of a successful move to show healthy paranoia), the move gets altered to this:

    When you show healthy paranoia, roll +Perception. 10-14, if you are in some sense in danger at the moment, you sense an eerie feeling of menace, and the GM also gives you a hint as to how and why. 15+, the same, but you learn precisely what the danger is.

    Examples: Stopping to smell the air, glancing behind you, thinking back on what danger signs you might have missed.

    And if the player further takes the Awareness (Trained) Talent, which adds an additional result on a roll of 20+, the move again gets rewritten to this:

    When you show healthy paranoia, roll +Perception. 10-14, if you are in some sense in danger at the moment, you sense an eerie feeling of menace, and the GM also gives you a hint as to how and why. 15-19, the same, but you learn precisely what the danger is. 20+, you not only learn what danger is threatening you, but also the most promising way of avoiding it.

    Examples: Stopping to smell the air, glancing behind you, thinking back on what danger signs you might have missed.

    You see what I mean. At every turn, the player’s sheet only contains the information that will apply to that player themself. This would absolutely not work if we were still using pen and paper like some sort of savages, but of course these are modern times and everything is stored in easily edited .txt files.

    I do worry that this will make it more troublesome for the players to choose new Talents, since now the information on what a move actually does and the information on how it is altered by a Talent will exist in two different places. But I’ll see what happens when I have a chance to run a session with the new PDF.

  • Honour to the Administratum

    Honour to the Administratum

    This week, my players ended up exploring the byzantine bureaucracy of the Imperium of Man. Maybe it’s fitting, then, that most of my thinking this week has been about bookkeeping.

    Character bookkeeping, I mean. It’s not an especially sexy topic, but it’s something that really makes a difference for how easy it is to run a roleplaying session. You want to be able to tell, at a glance, just what rules apply to a character – what their abilities are, what modifiers are affecting them, what they can and can’t do. Because having to stop all the time and flip through the rulebook is freaking annoying.

    One of the charms of Powered by the Apocalypse style games is that they seek to make bookkeeping easy. Rules are kept as modular as possible, so that you usually just deal with one paragraph of text at the time, not three or four different ones that are spread throughout the book. When that isn’t possible, information is often repeated so that it appears everywhere it needs to be, even if that means adding to the page count. It’s part of what makes these games so smooth to run.

    As I’ve mentioned before, when porting Dark Heresy I eventually had to admit that I couldn’t make it quite that nice. I’ve tried my hardest to not make rules depend on other rules that depend on still other rules, but it’s still a big, sprawling, messy game set in a big, sprawling, messy world.

    For example, one thing that I struggled with in today’s session was constantly having to adjust the options available for fighting for the particular weapon the players were using. You see, my rules for ranged combat go like this:

    When you unleash the fire and fury, roll +Ballistic Skill. 10-14, choose 1 option below. You may spend Righteous Fury to choose additional options, 1 for each Righteous Fury spent. Each option can only be chosen once. 15-19, choose 2 options. 20+, choose 2 option, and hold Righteous Fury.

    • You manage to disengage from melee and get onto at least a range of reach to the nearest enemy.
    • You hit a single enemy within range of your weapon and inflict weapon damage on them.
    • You inflict 1 damage on an enemy Horde within range of your weapon.
    • A single enemy who has you within range of their weapon does not hit you and inflict weapon damage on you.
    • An enemy Horde who has you within range of their weapons does not hit you and inflict weapon damage on you.
    • You are not forced to retreat or to take or stay in cover.
    • You cause a single enemy within range of your weapon to find or stay in cover.
    • You establish overwatch; the first single enemy within range of your weapon to leave cover (including to fire a shot of their own) takes 1d10 damage, reduced by Armour.
    • You do not need to reduce your Ammo by 1. This can not be chosen for an Ammo-S weapon.

    Examples: Firing a lasgun, throwing a knife, sniping from ambush.

    But when you’re wielding a weapon with the Blast tag (such as the frag grenades my players were flinging around), the following extra rules apply:

    When you unleash the fire and fury with a weapon with the blast tag, you may also choose the following options:

    • You inflict 1d10 damage on an enemy Horde within range of your weapon.
    • You hit every character in a group standing closely together (such as enemies engaged in melee, allies covering each other’s sides, etc) within range of your weapon and inflict weapon damage on them.

    However, when you unleash the fire and fury with a weapon with the blast tag, you may not choose the following options:

    • You hit a single enemy within range of your weapon and inflict weapon damage on them.
    • You cause a single enemy within range of your weapon to find or stay in cover.
    • You establish overwatch; the first single enemy within range of your weapon to leave cover (including to fire a shot of their own) takes 1d10 damage, reduced by Armour.

    So while I can normally just copy-paste in the list of a player’s options as they succeed at something, neat as you please… here I have to edit the whole thing on the fly every time (okay, so after the first time I guess I should have saved the edited list, but I didn’t think of that at the time). And there seems to be no easy solution to it, beyond writing up the full list of options for every single weapon in the book… and that seems a little much even for PbtA.

    And then there are all the things that players can do, which are adjusted when they take certain Advances, and the things they implicitly can’t do because there are other Advances that allow you to do those things… It’s a lot.

    I think maybe I should restructure the port into a more traditional format. Man, Warhammer 40,000 fights back hard against being PbtA-ified! Possibly it thinks that it’s heretical or something…

  • Let’s make – ze magic!

    Let’s make – ze magic!

    So… what did I randomly end up working on this week? Because the only certain thing is, it wasn’t what I was meant to be working on!

    Yeah, it was my Mage: the Ascension port. I wrote up some more definite Paradox Effects to have a grab bag of them ready.

    Mage is one of those games that are definitely crying out for different rules. Not necessarily simpler rules, not necessarily more complex rules – just anything other than the mess it’s saddled with, which manages to be at once overly convoluted and vague and directionless. It is, accordingly, one I’ve put a lot of work into, and I’m by no means finished yet.

    The heart of the system, though, is the spellcasting rules, which rely on two separate moves, like so:

    WORKING MAGICK

    When you cast a quick spell, describe the Effect you’re after and how you will use your Spheres and Paradigm to achieve it. Then roll +Arete. 7-9, choose 2 options below. 10+, choose 3.

    • The Effect lasts until the end of the scene.
    • The Effect does precisely what you intended, no more and no less.
    • The Effect affects something other than yourself.
    • The Effect doesn’t deplete your mystical will (-1 ongoing to all Arete rolls until you get a chance to rest).
    • You don’t need to mark Quintessence.

    When you perform an elaborate ritual, describe the Effect you’re after and how you will use your Spheres and Paradigm to achieve it. Then roll +Arete. 7-9, choose 2 options below. 10+, choose 3.

    • The Effect lasts for as long as you need it to.
    • No hard-to-replace resource is lost, destroyed, or used up.
    • The ritual doesn’t take a long time.
    • You don’t need to mark Quintessence.
    • The Effect is especially strong, adding +1 to the mechanical effects (i.e., it does Damage-2 instead of Damage-1, clears 2 wound boxes instead of 1, gives +2 ongoing instead of +1 ongoing, etc).

    Take -1 ongoing to rolls to create a magickal Effect for each Effect you currently have active. Note that an Effect only have to be maintained if it either affects a living being (who inherently exert spiritual pressure to return to their natural form) or if its continuation is considered impossible under Consensual Reality. Thus, witch-light hovering in mid-air must be maintained, but if you use a spell to set a piece of wood on fire, the wood will keep burning on its own once ignited.

    The main power of magick is to change or explore the fiction. If you use magick to create a hole in the ground, then now there’s a hole in the ground; if you use magick to read someone’s mind, the GM tells you what they’re thinking about. Magick rewards creative thinking and clever approaches, not brute force. However, if it really comes down to the nitty-gritty, a magickal Effect can do the following things if the caster can explain how:

    • Create a Damage-1 (Damage-2 for Forces) weapon for its duration.
    • Clear 1 wound box.
    • Give a weapon Damage+1 (Damage+2 for Forces) for its duration.
    • Give a weapon the AP tag for its duration.
    • Grant someone Armour+1 for its duration.
    • Grant +1 ongoing to specific actions for its duration.

    PARADOX

    When you work magic carelessly, Paradox can result. Mark Paradox for each condition that is true:

    • The Arete roll failed.
    • The Effect was vulgar, i.e. obviously magical; couldn’t have been reasonably mistaken for coincidence, a trick of perception, cutting-edge technology, etc. Effects that could be plausibly explained away are called coincidental. This condition never applies in the Umbra or in a sanctum dedicated to your Paradigm. Note that repeated uses within a short period of time can make a coincidental Effect become vulgar; one strange coincidence might be accepted, whereas several in short order can itself be seen as a sign of supernatural power.
    • The Effect was vulgar and at least one Sleeper who is not a sincere believer in your Paradigm observed the Effect take place.

    A character has 15 Paradox boxes divided into Paradox rows of three Paradox boxes each (or 20 boxes in rows of four if the character has Background: Familiar). When the GM makes a Paradox Move, the severity of the move depends on how many rows are fully filled in.

    Paradox is the Consensus punishing you for your temerity in defying it, so to banish it again you must show that you can play by the rules even when it’s inconvenient. Thus, every time you fail an Attribute (not Arete) roll, you clear 1 Paradox box.

    Arete, for comparison, starts at +0 and can rise as high as +2 at the end of a long campaign, but you also take +1 to any Arete rolls that fits your Avatar Essence, and another +1 for any attempt to cast a Rote you have previously memorised. Combined with the way you’ll often have to choose to take penalties to Arete, and the way that Paradox builds up over time, it makes magic something that starts out very powerful as a mage steps fresh into the scene, but gets increasingly iffy as a situation drags on – which feels like how it should be.

    All in all, this system is working out reasonably well in playtests so far, and gives me plenty of opportunities to both make my players feel powerful and to mess with them – both of which are things that I, needless to say, especially enjoy…

  • It’s a Miracle!

    It’s a Miracle!

    I actually managed to work a little on Starlight Dreams (or whatever it’ll turn out to be called) this week. I’ve gotten some distance through sketching out the rules for Miracles. So far, I’ve only gotten two out of the five “Harmonies” that auturges can wield written out, but I think I’m starting to get a feel for it. Here’s what’s up so far:

    MIRACLES

    Players can perform Miracles by spending Esteem. A Miracle is a way to immediately create a Fancy, without the need for any kind of roll or even for a description of how it’s done – the Fancy just comes into being through an exercise in divine will. The kind of Esteem spent depends on what the Miracle is intended to do. The Guide is the ultimate authority on what the Esteem cost of a particular Miracle should be, and complex Miracles may require a combination of different parts of Esteem. The following is a guideline:

    • Righteousness Esteem is spent to harm, move, or enhance something.
    • Charity Esteem is spent to heal, protect, or control something.
    • Beauty Esteem is spent to create, hide, or beguile something.
    • Serenity Esteem is used to heal, enhance or protect yourself.

    The amount of Esteem needed to perform a Miracle depends on how impressive the Miracle is intended to be. The following is a guideline:

    • 2 Esteem: a tiny flicker of divine power, enough to create a Passing Fancy.
    • 4 Esteem: a sturdy magical work, enough to heal or inflict a point of Stress, or create a localised Enduring Fancy.
    • 6 Esteem: a display of true godhood, like the creation of a single Whim of distinct personality and agency or a specific location within an existing Sphere.
    • 8 Esteem: a breathtaking act of greatness, enough to awe an entire population or create a temporary Sphere-spanning effect.
    • 10 Esteem: the permanent creation or fundamental alteration of an entire Sphere.

    A player can only perform Miracles that fit the theme of yts Harmonies. Thus, a player needs the Harmony of the Body to heal wounds, the Harmony of Growth to make a forest sprout from the ground, the Harmony of the Abstract to make two feuding parties immediately make peace, and so on.

    Harmony of the Abstract:

    • Righteousness: terror and fury. The auturge ignites negative feelings, then blows on the sparks until they become an inferno. Enemies can be struck with fear, and allies can be infused with zealous hatred that grants strength to their arm. Whims created through Righteousness and the Abstract tend to be dark, spectral creatures, more living nightmares than solid beings, who exist solely to whisper horrors in people’s souls.
    • Charity: hopeful gospel. The auturge spreads feelings of hope and love, of sanctity and purity. Yt can cause hatred to fade away and bitter feuds to be dismissed as a passing madness, forge bonds of heartfelt friendship and weave tapestries of deep reverence for what has been blessed. Whims created through Charity and the Abstract tend to be pristine angelic figures that embody the gentlest of virtues.
    • Beauty: just law. The auturge lays down edicts that will shape nations, dictating the actions of Whims. Populations can be divided into tribes without any other alterations of their inherent natures, and different behaviours can become either unthinkable or mandatory for any Whim who regards ytself as virtuous. If Whims are created through Beauty and the Abstract, they tend to be stern judges or lawkeepers, existing to guide the just and punish the guilty.
    • Serenity: esoteric lore. The auturge creates layers of knowledge that, if studied, grants ability – whether to control the world, or to master the self. While wise magi and master warriors cannot be conjured out of thin air, a pathway for regular Whims to become such eminent beings can be laid through Serenity and the Abstract. While this can provide an auturge with powerful servants and populations that grow and improve on their own, it also holds risk; Whims who stray from the true path can easily become dangerous Glooms.

    Harmony of the Body:

    • Righteousness: tooth and claw. The auturge causes ytself or another creature to grow fearsome natural weapons; slashing claws, rending fangs, horns and stingers and talons. Alternatively, yt can grant brute animal strength to ytself or yts chosen, making them capable of greater physical feats. Whims created through Righteousness and the Body are, naturally, likely to be ferocious predators of whatever sort.
    • Charity: creature comforts. The auturge heals open wounds in ytself or others, or grants biological nourishment and protection like warm fur, thick scales, nutritious milk, or even the taste of yts own living flesh. Whims created through Charity and the Body vary greatly in their appearance, but they are almost always in some way cuddly and lovable.
    • Beauty: feral grace. The auturge grants ytself or another creature the ability to move unhindered in the environment, whether that means racing, climbing, digging, flying, swimming, or any other means of getting from one point to another. Alternatively, yt can provide other means of adapting perfectly to the environment; camouflage or the ability to thrive in great heat or cold are some examples. Whims created through Beauty and the Body tend to be vibrant and graceful creatures with colourful plumes, glistening scales, magnificently patterned fur or other splendid adornments.
    • Serenity: animal instinct. The auturge sharpens yts own or another’s senses to impossible levels, or bestows quick instincts in areas where careful thought is more a hindrance than an asset. Whims created with Serenity and the Body tend to be skittish and observant, often with great arrays of eyes and feelers that let them perceive all that is going on around them and to react with lightning quickness to it.