Last time, silly faces and rage over science. This time, sexism/money mobius strip.
Chapter 3: City Creation
So, this section is actually fun.
The idea here is to create a city for your games via a formalized collaborative brainstorm. The book assumes that your game would mostly revolve around some city and that you want to get a rather detailed picture of the city with major factions and conflicts outlined, but it also provides advice on designing games with a more global focus like campaign in Nevernever or a road trip, as well as suggestions for people who don’t want to bother with too much work at this point and just want to play some simple scenario.
Still, the detailed rules were clearly designed with a campaign in a constant location in mind.
So, here is a summary of the process:
1) Picking your city. The book lists possible options for a city fit to run a game: city you live in, your or other player’s hometown, city you are all familiar with personally or through media or made-up city – and outlines benefits and issues with each of them. It rather strongly advises you against using a made-up city due to the amount of work you would need to do to make it detailed and realistic, which is fair enough. I would probably appreciate more suggestions on how to design your own city, though, perhaps some links to the materials about city grows.
2) Research. The book points out what information may be relevant to the game (crime element, urban legends, local flavor, curious locations) and provides some advice on where and how to look it up. The book also suggest you can just make stuff up or change details if you don’t want to do much research and don’t care about realism.
3) Open discussion. Once you picked your city and decided you have enough information about it (be it a lot or none), the group is supposed to discuss what they want out of the game in that city: what locations they want to see, which situations they want to get into, what organizations they like to be present, etc, etc. The point of it is to generate potential ideas to form the city. Some of them would be abandoned in the process, some would grow in prominence. At this point, nothing is really formalized, it’s just a general discussion.
4) Coming up with themes and threats to the city. Both are sources of conflict, themes being some persistent problems that can’t be resolved by punching the right guy, like rampant corruption or the city dying economically, while threats present more immediate problems, like a power-hungry sorcerer or a portal to Hell in someone’s kitchen. The book suggest aiming at three themes and threats total (the example includes two themes and one threat). These are the problems that are going to be very prominent in your game. Themes in particular are going to shape the rest of the city creation process as well. At this point, themes and threats shouldn’t be too detailed. They define the types of conflicts PCs would have to deal with rather than specific people behind them.
5) Big picture stuff. What important organizations and people are there, who among them is aware of the supernatural, what is the status quo for supernatural and mundane sides, who wants to preserve it and who rocks the boat. Again, the big picture shouldn’t be too detailed, it’s just a rough guideline for future sections. It is also assumed that the elements of the big picture would tie into themes and threats somehow. If you have a theme of the city being on a brink of destruction, you would want a lot of movers and shakers being against the status quo.
6) Locations. Places that would make for a cool backdrop to action scenes, provide sanctuary to PCs, serve as sinister lairs for villains, etc. Ideally, each player should design two of them. Locations tie naturally into themes, threats and the big picture. Important organizations would need headquarters, a theme of dying city would need something like a boat graveyard to represent it, a power-hungry sorcerer would naturally have a colorful lair, etc.
7) Faces of themes, threats and locations. Faces are NPCs (and sometimes PCs) who represent locations, themes and threats in your game. For locations, faces are people strongly associated with them. For example, a face of a boat graveyard may be a crazy old man living there and being privy to some important supernatural stuff. For threats, faces are obvious: often they are the threat, like the power-hungry sorcerer. If a threat is bigger than a single individual (like an organization expanding its influence over the city), the face would be a signature member, someone PCs are likely to deal with the most when they approach that organization. Some faces may represent threats more indirectly, like a client of a PC private investigator who tells them about the sorcerer. As for themes, their faces either embody or oppose them. For rampant corruption, for example, you are looking either at a crime boss who have politicians in his or her pockets, or the last honest idealistic politician, a freak of nature who actually wants to change the city for the better.
Faces are designed from the perspective of PCs – they are people with whom PCs are most likely to interact. So, a face of an given location, theme or threat may be only a part of something greater if PCs are not influential enough to affect the big picture.
Faces, of course, need motivation. The book suggest keeping it simple and make the motivation something faces work towards right now rather than long-term goals.Whether or not these motivations would be known to players (and/or PCs) depends on the style of play: a mystery calls for more unknowns, while a political intrigue allows players to know more without diminishing the enjoyment of the game. A straightforward adventure likely means motivations are simple enough that PCs would know them from the start or soon after meeting relevant faces.
There can be more than one face for each theme, threat and location, but the game suggest making them at odds, since if they work together or represent the same forces that affect PCs in similar manner, it’s easier to have one face and just add regular NPCs when the game needs them.
8) Net of relationships. Once you have faces, it’s time to connect them together, create allies, enmities and rivalries. Some faces would stand alone, while others would be connected to nearly everyone else. Many connections would be obvious, while thinking about how some seemingly isolated faces may be connected to others is a good fodder for plot hooks.
PCs are created at this or previous point since they, too, are a part of the city with their own connections to various faces.
9) Mechanics. Each theme, threat and location are given their own aspect, which can be invoked and compelled in relevant situations as usual. The game suggest that themes should be able to affect at least one PC each (so, if the city has a theme of rampant corruption turned into aspect Decay and Corruption, at least one PC must either suffer or benefit from it, perhaps being the kind of person likely to be harassed by dirty cops, perhaps knowing just the right guy who can help to get away with murder, etc. Suffering is, of course, preferable as it generates conflict.). Threats typically make for poor aspects, since they are imminent and can be dealt with soon enough, but the game has some suggestions on this front, like having an aspect that seems to constantly benefit the threat or have an aspect created by the threat, like paranoia over the identity of the power-hungry sorcerer. Location aspects deal with moods of specific places or their specifics that may be important for scenes set in them, like Highly Flammable building for action scenes.
Faces are given stats somewhere around this point, too, though most of them would probably be only partially statted: most of the time, it’s not necessary to know anything about NPCs beyond a few simple aspects and some skill levels.
Well, that’s pretty much it, though, of course, the game includes more detailed advice and instructions for each stage. At the end you’ll get city sheets with basic information on pretty much all important matters, plus whatever notes you took during discussions of it all, which, when done correctly, would suggest potential game scenarios itself.
The city creation section was praised highly by various reviews of the game, and I agree with it. It understands that the foundation of a good story is conflict and that every other element is subservient to it, and provides us with a defined way to design a setting following this maxim. The collaborative aspect also brings players’ input into traditionally GM’s domain, which is always a plus: this way, the players would be more invested in the city they helped to create, rather than in their characters only, which is often the case in other games.
And, while the rules are most useful for urban fantasy games set in a real city, I think they can apply to pretty much any game set in some settlement with little modification (the book does provide an advice for games about journeys and such, but even it admits some sections wouldn’t be applicable).
The process can even be divorced from FATE and used in other systems, since the only FATE-specific thing here is aspects, and they can easily be omitted.
All in all, I would recommend checking out city creation if you are planning to start a new game anytime soon. It would give you some ideas if nothing else.
Chapter 4: Character Creation
The most important question a game based on some preexisting media (be it TV show, movie, video game or book) must answer is this: “Can I play Han Solo?”
A typical problem in licensed games is an assumption that the heroes of the source material represent the pinnacle of what PCs can be. In some incarnations of Star Wars RPGs, you can’t play Luke from the start, first you need to spend a lot of time playing that guy who’s got blown up in the battle against Death Star.
As you may imagine, it’s a receipt for being disappointed. When I contemplate a game based on a story I like, I naturally imagine myself or my players as the heroes of that story rather than assorted redshirts, and yet so many games disagree with me…
Thankfully, this attitude, the idea that PCs must start at the bottom and claw their way up instead of being exceptional people from the start, seems to fade away with evolution of TRPGs.
So, can I play Han Solo Harry Dresden (only, you know, a likable version) in Dresden Files RPG?
Well, the answer is “Yes, but…”
You see, the game has a concept of power level ranging from Feet in the Water* to Submerged, which determines your skill points and refresh. Skill points are obvious** and as for refresh, you can spend it to buy mortal stunts and supernatural powers. The remaining refresh (always at least 1) determines your starting Fate points.
*The number of skill points at this level is the same as the default number in core system. Refresh is 6 instead of 3, but there is more stuff to buy with it, so it’s more a consequence of specific game design rather than indication of increased power level. Other levels are higher, naturally, and characters belonging to them would be more powerful than starting characters in core.
**Though one thing I forgot to mention in FATE review is that the system uses skill pyramid or columns. Basically, for every skill at level 4 you need to have at least one skill at level 3, for every skill at level 3 you need at least one skill at level 2, etc. That ensures that players don’t spend all of their skill points on a few skills, bringing them into high scores, and neglect the rest. By default, you get one skill 4, two skills 3, etc. – the pyramid – and columns are used for when you upgrade your skills during the game. DF RPG allows you to use columns from the start, allowing for more high-level skills, though that’s not really a big deal.
The choice of power level determines what kind of game you are playing. Low level means you play something closer to horror and survival, while high level naturally allows you to affect the big picture and be one of the local movers and shakers.
Now, guess where Harry falls on the scale.
Yep, his starting character (and I mean starting, before various power upgrades from later books) is on Submerged level, meaning you can’t play him unless you pick the highest available starting power level for your group. Because of course we wouldn’t want starting characters to be cooler than him, no, we can’t allow it.
To be fair, I can’t blame Harry wankery entirely for this design decision. As we’ve discussed before, Harry really is a powerhouse that only halfheartedly pretends to be an underdog when the author remembers he’s supposed to be one, and the book acknowledges it.
Let’s move on.
So, once the power level is established, players pick templates for their characters. I’ll talk more about templates in a section about them, but basically they are types of characters divided by their nature: pure mortals, wizards, werewolves, etc. Each template has a number of supernatural powers the character must buy by spending refresh (except pure mortals, of course), so certain templates wouldn’t be available or appealing at lower power levels.
After that, it’s aspects. High Concept and Trouble are much the same as in FATE core: High Concept is a short phrase describing who the character is that must somehow reflect template (Wizard for Hire, Sinister Sorcerer, etc.), except, again, for pure mortals. Trouble is a constant source of conflict for the character.
After that, there is a bit of a deviation. In FATE core, you are supposed to come up with your first adventure and two guest appearance from other characters, giving you three aspects. Same happens in Dresden Files RPG as well, but before that there are two more aspects: Where Did You Come From? and What Shaped You? The former is a general background of the character, often dealing with time before supernatural forces were a factor in character’s life. The latter is a rising conflict giving the character direction. If Trouble is a source of conflict, then What Shaped You? is a typical solution the character uses.
All in all, I like it. These two additional aspects make the character more grounded in the setting, which is a plus for urban fantasy, plus it’s always fun to think about various sides of your characters.
Of course, Harry is used as a sample character, so his aspects are… rather unreliable, so to speak. Specifically, Harry’s What Shaped You? was about his history with his evil mentor and fellow apprentice, and the aspect he’s got from supposedly killing his girlfriend is Chivalry Is Not Dead, Dammit. Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.
On a funny side, I finally have an answer for why Harry is supposedly always short on money but can afford airport coffee and such: Perpetually Broke is an aspect. Whenever Harry tries to spend too much money, the GM can compel him to, well, not do that because he’s broke, but Harry can ignore it by spending a Fate point. Since he self-compels “Chivalry” basically every time he races to open a door for Murphy and shit like that, he typically has enough Fate points to get his coffee.
Sexism: it conjures money.
Anyway, then players pick skills, stunts and supernatural power. Neither is described in detail here, so I’ll talk about it later. It’s worth noting, however, that you can pick powers unrelated to your template if the GM permits, creating mixing characters, like a werewolf who knows some magic and such.
In this chapter we also see the first mention of stress boxes and consequences. So far, it seems similar to FATE core: two boxes of each type, three consequences total, some skills add stress boxes and consequences. The only difference is that instead of two types of conflict (physical and mental) the game has three, adding social conflict with corresponding stress boxes. And some types of creatures have hunger stress boxes as well. Vampires and such, presumably. This is consistent with FATE recommendation to add stress types when characters in your game suffer a unique type of harm.
It’s interesting to note that 0 refresh is treated as a point of no return: should your character get enough powers to cross it, he or she turns into NPC. It ties into the theme of free will from earlier, the idea here being that the more power an individual has, the closer they get to acting on their nature only, without choice. I’m rather ambivalent about it. The zero point actually works fine: during the game you may get offers of power from various shady individuals. Go too far, accept too many bargains, and you aren’t in control anymore. However, the general connection between power and free will seems iffy for me. Certainly, wizards, one of the most expensive templates, have as much free will as the rest of mortals. Not so much in the game, since they have few Fate points, and once they run out of them, they would basically be auto-compelled in appropriate situations. It seems to me that the idea would work better in something like Unknown Armies or DRYH where power comes from madness, so the more you tap into it, the less of you remains.
(And then there are mortal stuns, which also cost refresh but don’t offer any supernatural powers, just regular cool tricks. Is Jackie Chan more of a monster for having some neat Athletics stunts? Is he less in control of himself?)
The chapter also includes simplified rules for quick character creation. They are mostly useful for NPCs that suddenly became needed for your game, though they can apply to PCs as well if you don’t want to bother with detailed rules or if someone has shown up late to the session.
Well, all in all, there are some good ideas in this chapter. I suspect that supernatural powers are tied tightly to Dresden Files setting, so power level, which reflects their typical cost, may not be fully applicable in conversions and would need at least some rebalancing. In the context of this game, though, it does provide a rough guideline for what kind of game you’re aiming. Additional aspects are a good choice, as I’ve said before, though I also understand why they were cut from the core: sometimes you don’t want to define your character too much, especially if you are just testing the waters and may take characterization in an unexpected direction.
Also, while I generally disliked Harry being used as an example, since he was naturally painted in a much better light than he deserved, I should note that he was freaking out over it in the margin comments, which was funny enough. Doesn’t really excuse the WTF-ry of “Chivalry,” but, you know, silver bullets. Linings. Whatever.
Chapter 5: Types & Templates
So, templates are simply types of characters recommended for use in the game with prearranged power packages. Technically, they are optional: you can play as a type of creature not listed here or even design your own template from scratch. Templates just represent the most lucrative types of characters found in the books.
Each template has a number of supernatural powers they have to buy with refresh and often some options to customize these powers or your character as a whole (for example, a wizard can buy some specializations to get bonuses for certain types of spells, a were-form would need to design an animal form out of powers, etc.)
The list of templates is as follows: Pure Mortal, Champion of God, Changeling, Emissary of Power, Focused Practitioner, Knight of a Faerie Court, Lycanthrope, Minor Talent, Red Court Infected, Sorcerer, True Believer, Were-Form, White Court Vampire, White Court Virgin and Wizard.
Some of these weren’t introduced in the first two books, but I think most of them are self-explanatory, so I’ll just talk about interesting stuff about each of them rather than going into details.
– Pure Mortals, naturally, don’t have any powers, but instead get 2 points of refresh to get more stunts or Fate points. I’m not entirely sure it really makes up for missing out on spellcasting or super-strength, though it’s hard to speculate without play-testing it. In theory, Pure Mortals would, on average, succeed more in skill challenges due to being able to invoke aspects more often and gain bonuses from stunts, while supernatural types can do more narratively. In practice… I don’t know, I think Pure Mortals still get a short end of the deal. It’s kinda like playing a Heroic Mortal alongside a Solar: no matter how much more experience you have, there are barriers you simply wouldn’t be able to breach. Granted, it means less in FATE due to abstract mechanics, but, eh, probably not the best idea to mix Pure Mortals with high-level templates.
– Champions of God are called on a sacred mission by Christian God “in his many guises” because, while all myths are true, Christianity is truer. In the books, there are three Champions total, granted super-swords +1 each, though the game suggests you may increase the number and maybe give them other items of power if it suits you more. That, indeed, is a good suggestion, as otherwise your character would need to interact with Harry due to some glorious stuff I can’t wait for Farla to read.
– Changelings are interesting mechanically. You see, in DF changelings can grow into full fairies and go full mortal depending on their choice. The way it works, they get more and more fairy-ish with time, but can reject their heritage once and for all if they so desire. In game, it’s represented by making a list of powers changelings may inherit from their fairy parents. During the game, any and all of these powers can be immediately added on character sheet, provided the player has enough Fate points to pay for them. Naturally, they lower the refresh, and should you go beyond it, you get turned into NPC. That provides an interesting conflict where you edge closer and closer to inhumanity as time goes on and can decide to grab all the power, all of it to win a particularly important conflict at a cost of basically your death. As I said in my FATE review, death is pretty rar in the game and happens only when someone wants it to happen, so having an incentive to go for it is neat.
– Emissary of Power is a snowflake template. The basic idea is that a character is empowered by a patron of supernatural origin. Champions of God and Knights of Faerie Courts technically fall into this category, they just have more codified templates. The bottom line here is that you can pick any powers you like as long as they follow some coherent concept. Probably the most versatile template, but also prone to bad fanon stuff. One of the examples involves a third Faerie Court, neither Seelie nor Unseelie, granting powers to the character, for example, which really strikes me as Mary Suish. Then again, when canon is the way it is…
– Focused Practitioners have a potent but limited magical ability like pyrokinesis without control over the rest of elements, or alchemy without quick and dirty magic, etc. It’s interesting that you can upgrade their abilities to full magic during the play, making template fit for representing self-taught wizards who figured one trick and ran with it. I think I like them more than full wizards, general magic seems way too vast to me as I prefer more focused powers. The book advises to not pick abilities that would naturally lead to violating Laws of Magic, like chronomancy or mindfuck, which strikes me as an odd advice. Surely being in opposition to White Men Council is an interesting concept full of conflict? Or not wanting to cross them and thus refusing to use your power, but finding yourself in a position where it would solve so many problems. Then again, the game has a system for representing corruption that comes from using dark magic, so the advice probably refers to its effects.
– Knights of the Faerie Courts are people empowered by Summer and Winter Courts to do stuff for them (I think fae are forbidden from killing people or something, and Knights are a loophole?). There are only two Knights in total, and, unlike with Champions of God, the book clearly states there can be no more than that. That does reflect canon, but I think a fae faction creating their own heretical Knight or something would be a neat idea. Plot-wise, if you pick this template you’d be caught up in fairy politics and intrigues, which is cool if that’s what you’re going for, but also limits your options. If your game’s focus lies elsewhere, it would be a pretty useless template, I think.
– Lycanthrope. Our Temmies. I have no idea why someone would want to play a character who’s mostly a normal guy with anger management issues. They do actually have some powers, but they are pretty basic and on the level of enhanced mortal. Honestly, I think the template is here just for the sake of completion. I don’t even think lycanthropes ever appear in the books after Fool Moon. They are also tied to full moon for some reason, so their more potent powers are working only five days out of moon cycle, which would be frustrating in an actual game, and the book even notes it, suggesting using this template only if you are willing to mostly structure the game around full moons.
– Minor Talents are mortals with one minor magical or psychic ability, as the name implies. They are pretty limited in power, as you may imagine, and seem fit for games with mostly Pure Mortal cast as I don’t think they would be very comfortable around other templates.
– Red Court Infected are vampires of the same type as Bianca who didn’t yet take a life in hunger. As such, they have limited powers compared to full vampires, but also don’t suffer as much from their disadvantages. All in all, they’re basically dhampires. It’s interesting to note that, as with Laws of Magic, Dresden Files makes a distinction between simply killing someone and killing under specific circumstances, be it killing with magic or killing by drinking someone’s blood. Red Court Infected can kill just fine, provided they don’t succumb to their hunger, which strikes me as poorly-conceived morality born from metaphor replacing the phenomenon that metaphor was about.
– Sorcerer. The book seems about as confused over what a sorcerer is as we are. The main text defines sorcerer as simply a wizard not belonging to White Men Council and lacking its training. But then we have margin comments stating that the term has negative connotation and is mostly used to describe a lawbreaking wizard, while law-abiding magic users outside of the Council are called minor talents, which kinda implies there are no powerful magic users that don’t go around killing or mindfucking people outside of the Council (and also creates confusion over game terms). But then, back in introduction chapter, lawbreaking wizards were called warlocks, so… Mechanics don’t exactly help. Sorcerers have full access to magic, but lack Sight by default (though they can buy it as an option) and Wizard’s Constitution, which strongly implies they are different species from wizards. So, the bottom line, I’ve no idea what the fuck sorcerer is, lore-wise.
– True Believers. Believing in higher and to some extent unknowable power, be it God or some philosophical concept, gives you minor powers. Straightforward, though I don’t think it works conceptually outside of priests and deeply religious people despite the book’s insistence to the contrary.
– Were-form is a rather versatile template, second only to Emissary of Power, I think. The gist of it is that you pick a few powers inherent to your animal form, most likely relatively low-key (the book provides examples for werewolves and wereravens). The template also allows for reshuffling of skills, since your animal form would likely have different aptitudes for senses, fighting ability, etc. That basically gives you two overlapping character sheets, allowing you to fulfill two roles in the party. Pretty neat. Also of note the idea that, when you turn into something smaller than your natural size, the missing mass is stuffed into Nevernever, which reminds me distinctly of Animorphs. Eh, not sure I like it, as, while DF magic does pay lip service to conservation of mass and energy, it doesn’t strike me as particularly consistent in that regard, so it comes across as an arbitrary rule. Still, some plot hooks can be gained from it.
– White Court Vampire. White Court is a type of vampires that feed on emotions and life force of their victims. The most prominent family of such vampires in DF books feed on lust because of course, though there are other examples that feed on despair and fear. The book presents it as a matter of preference, though I’m not entirely sure it’s consistent with canon. Eh, whatever. The template provides the first margin comment I find worth noting as rather iffy:
“It seems the Malvora feed on fear, and the Skavis feed on despair. Nasty lot, all of them.”
“Could a WCV feed on a positive emotion, Bob?”
“Eating some part of another person is an act of violence, [Spoiler]. Positive emotions don’t go together with that.”
While it’s nice to acknowledge that actively feeding on someone is, indeed, ungood (regardless of which emotion you entice and consume along with life force), I would note that the comment clearly indicates lust as a “negative” emotion, which is rather weird and makes sense only from “that femme fatale has a strange power of giving me a boner” perspective.
– White Court Virgin. Hoo, boy, is it an unfortunate name, given how it refers to a White Court vampire who didn’t yet kill anyone by feeding… I don’t remember if the term originates from the books or was invented for the game, but either way, iffy. Otherwise, the idea is much the same as with Red Court Infected: less powers, no weaknesses, a possibility of growing into full template (though this one allows you to do it gradually, calling occasionally on powers of the full template at a price of getting some weaknesses, somewhat similar to changelings).
– Wizards. Defined as full-fledged spellcasters belonging to White Men Council. Formal education is reflected in their ability to take more Refinements (situational bonuses, more elements to control, etc.) they can take compared to sorcerers, though a starting wizard is unlikely to have more than one or two, making the gap insignificant. Not much else to say aside from the Sight being optional in this game, unlike in canon.
So, all in all, this chapter was a mixed bag. Some neat ideas, some fumbles, some unfortunate choices of wording. I think at this point it’s evident that the game is at its best when it doesn’t work closely with the setting. City creation rules? Cool and applicable to nearly any setting. Character creation? Cool as long as you don’t pay attention to Harry. Templates? The more general they are, the less problems I have with them. When they do involve setting lore, it’s easy to see how poorly the world is put together.
Well, we’ll see if the trend is going to continue. I’m especially curious about Baltimore, a sample city statted for this game. Let’s see how other people can implement ideas mangled by Butcher.
But that’s for the future. For now, that’s it. Tune in next time for a few chapters I think will not warrant a detailed discussion like this unless there are some gems of horrible buried in them. Which, that being Dresden Files, is always a possibility.
Sorcerers basically don’t show up at all outside of being mentioned once in… Blood Rites? The term anyways. So it makes sense that this book wouldn’t know what the hell either.
Basically, all magic-users are sorcerers. Wizards different because they got Wizard Court-training and are all super duper strong and amazing (especially Harry!). Training. Training. Harry loves the word.
“Sexism: it conjures money.”
Oh, how very apropos. Well played.
The White Court is a goldmine of awful and I cannot wait for Farla to read that bit. I’ve always found the in-universe justification for why they act… well, the way they do, in relation to gender and sex… to be somewhat flimsy. Frankly, it’s left-handed-work, to mangle a foreign expression, and that’s because Butcher’s right hand was busy doing something quite else.
“Oh, how very apropos. Well played.”
Heh. Strictly speaking, it’s not quite how the system works. In practice, Harry would be denied Fate points for acting like a dick to Murphy because it doesn’t complicate the situation or gets him into trouble.
As for the food, game-wise it doesn’t really matter what you eat as long as you can afford to it at all*, so normally it would just fall under general role-playing. However, the GM can make an issue out of it should Harry visit fancy expensive places too often.
Compelling an aspect is one way to resolve the issue, though more likely it would be done not to prevent Harry from going there in the first place, but to make him realize he doesn’t have any money only after he ordered and ate something. Preferably it would be done when he’s with someone, so that someone would be forced to pay the bill, which would negatively reflect on their relationship with Harry.
More likely, it would be resolved with Resources roll. Resources is basically a money skill, which normally is used to check if you can afford fancy things, like replacing your car after your previous one was blown up and such. However, it can be used to determine if Harry can afford to eat at McAnally regularly or not. I would place the difficulty of the roll at 3, I think. Invoking Perpetually Broke against Harry increases the difficulty to 5. Harry doesn’t have the Resources skill, meaning his score is 0, so he relies on the roll exclusively. Normally, the maximum possible result is 4, falling just short of the target. However, Harry can spend a Fate point or two to get a flat bonus (stuff like that is a big part of the reason why this rule was removed from the later edition) or to invoke his aspects. For example, he can invoke Wizard Private Eye to say he did some big job for McAnally, so now he eats there at a discount.
Still, the joke was too good to pass.
*Though compelling the aspect to make Harry go hungry for a few days because he’s that broke and then invoke it against him in a fight because he’s weakened from hunger is a valid move. Works best in combination with some aspect revolving around pride to prevent Harry from asking other people to pay for his food.
As for White Court, yeah, Butcher really shouldn’t write anything remotely connected to sex, his thoughts and hands clearly wonder when he does it.
I especially “enjoy” Harry pretending to work in a porn studio and conversations that resulted from it.
Strictly speaking, it’s not quite how the system works. In practice, Harry would be denied Fate points for acting like a dick to Murphy because it doesn’t complicate the situation or gets him into trouble.
Actually, this seems like it’d work really well with the idea this particular setting has about power being about giving up control of yourself. Harry is rewarded for acting in a particular shitty way.
Come to think of it, isn’t this a bit like the paths in Unknown Armies? Become more of an archetype and get power at the cost of not being able to act how you want.
Harry knows certain behavior patterns mean stuff just works out for him for no reason. Every time he harasses Murphy or leers at a hot corpse, the rest of the universe starts chucking clues to the mystery at his head. And maybe he also knows the universe loves him posing dramatically at the edge but has no interest in actually making him fall, so he’ll do all sorts of stuff like giving the demons almost but not all of his name, because he’ll not only get what he’s told directly but also a whole bunch of bonus coincidences to move things along.
This could also explain why he’s so unremittingly awful toward Bianca, he’s desperately trying to collect as many points as he can to stay afloat.
You could even say it’s specifically a magic thing, and then explain a lot of the weirdness of wizards being that they’re tapping into these sorts of cheats.
Of course, a smart enemy would learn the cheats and work to deny them – separate Harry from women, and he can’t spam the sexism boost button as hard. Attack dogs might be a risk ever since he’s learned a new word, but he’s weak against demon attack and he doesn’t seem to pay attention to the sex of fairies, so both should be a viable tactic. Also possessed scorpions, if Murphy hadn’t been there to smug at, it probably would’ve managed to take him out.
Well, Fate points are a meta-game resource, and, as such, their relationship with the world of the game is a bit complicated. They can affect game events, but they aren’t supposed to exist within the game, and neither the characters are supposed to be aware of them.
The best way to think about Fate points is to think about them as narrative rules. In many stories, it’s not really a question whether or not the protagonist will win and survive, but you still expect them to act like they can die in a fight. Genre conventions shouldn’t be taken into account by characters, as a general rule, since it turns the story into meta-fiction, which would require careful handling.
Basically, when you get a Fate point, it’s not your character who benefits but you. Compels are meant to encourage players to role-play their characters even when it’s not a good idea and would get them into trouble, and to increase drama and tension of the game. Harry accomplishes none of it by treating Murphy like he does, so he shouldn’t get Fate points here.
“This could also explain why he’s so unremittingly awful toward Bianca,
he’s desperately trying to collect as many points as he can to stay
afloat.”
That, on the other hand, kinda works. He’s made an enemy out of Bianca in big part because of his “Chivalry,” which creates a clear (if delayed) consequence for his actions. That’s a fine reason to give him a Fate point.
What you are suggesting can be interesting, with some edits (pure mortals are subject to compels, too, which kinda contradicts them being a magical thing). Something similar to Pact’s karma where you are rewarded for acting in accordance with your twisted nature could make for an interesting game. Probably would need a direct connection between Fate points and magic as well, like in Kerebros Club where you are required to invest a Fate point or a few for a scene in which you want to do magic (you get them back afterwards, unless you’ve spent your last fate point, in which case it’s lost), limiting how much you can invoke aspects or resist compels.
It’s not how the game works by default, though.
“he doesn’t seem to pay attention to the sex of fairies”
Heh, that’s funny in hindsight.
Genre conventions shouldn’t be taken into account by characters, as a general rule, since it turns the story into meta-fiction, which would require careful handling.
Oh, “Discworld: The RPG”! We’ve had “GURPS Discworld”, but the FATE system should work out beautifully.
Yeah, something like that would work. Aspects based on genre cliches, openly invoked by characters in-universe. It works well for a comedy, but less so for a game that takes itself seriously.
(Also, honestly, GURPS is about the last system I would pick for Discworld of all things. Its strength lies in providing means to make every single notable detail about the characters matter mechanically, which is great if you want to go for gritty realism, but in other genres it’s just kinda there, not really helping the flow.
Well, that, and it’s also massive and has rules for every possible setting, from magic to super-technology to deadly parasites, etc, which make it a good system if you want to learn the rules just once and use them for everything you play, but it’s not a big concern for me.)
Out of curiosity, have you had a chance to run a game in this system?
No. I’ve played FATE before, but it was with homebrew setting, and I mostly used Kerberos Club rules.
I did use City Creation rules from here, They are pretty neat.
How did they work in your game? Was it mostly a GM tool or did it actually do much to effect the plot? Was it in your City setting?
FATE is a neat looking system, I’ve just never had much luck actually running it and like to hear about how other people have managed to make it work. I tried using both Kererbos Club and Spirit of the Century. People were frustrated with the Kerberos Club power rules and Spirit of the Century was fun for a bit, but people wanted to go back to Pathfinder after a few sessions.
Yeah, it was the City. I’ve defined the basics of the setting, including themes and threats. Afterwards, it was a collaborative process. The players decided one of them would be the face of a location and created a small neighborhood filled with starving artists and other suspicious people. Their headquarters was an abandoned building at the center of it, a major project intended as a part of program to revitalize this part of the city that never was finished.
Faces work great with the City, since part of the point is that each successful adept defines part of the City and makes it unique. Getting players to decide how they did it was fun. The player was big on using glass magic, which is about illusions and delusions, so we gave the aspect Thousands Fake Reflections to the location, which could be compelled to trap enemies inside illusions, conceal buildings or make people appear differently.
Other faces included the Magpie Queen (who’s lost her name), ruler of junkyards with the power over lost things and lost people who was spreading cheap drugs around in an attempt to drag people to the bottom where she could claim them, a gang leader who operated crowds and was all about unity (and mind control), driving people into frenzy with graffiti and pointing them at his enemies, a high City official managing to maintain his position through manipulation of phantoms and using them as fake bodies. His real location was unknown to the characters and concealed behind a labyrinth of twisted streets.
These three featured prominently in the game. In particular, the gang leader was making forays into characters’ territory because it was uncomfortably close to his own.
Other faces were less notable, and some of them didn’t make it into the game. I’m especially disappointed over Grand Architect of the City, and adept who was claimed by the City and worked on crazy projects designed to bring ruin to other adepts, who, among other things, created the House of Renunciation – a red brick building that would appear at a convenient time when you need a cover. Inside, there are many rooms, though each one looks almost the same as previous. The changes are subtle: furniture becomes a bit more crowded, just a bit in your way, wallpapers gain stains and scratches, shadows become deeper. As you progress further into the building, the changes become more and more pronounced and erode your mind, making you lose connection with yourself as the room loses connection with reality, and in the end you are claimed by the City unless you can resist the effects (mental conflict, basically).
There wasn’t much space in the game for the encounter, so it remained a background detail.
The mayor (face of the City Hall) didn’t appear, either, even though he had a cool concept of a normal (if extremely corrupt) person realizing just what the City is but being trapped in his life by phantoms surrounding him.
These were duds that never went off.
On the other hand, there was a park proposed by one of the players in which your worst nightmares come true, with a creepy caretaker serving them. It became the location for the ultimate showdown as the characters managed to lure the villain (threat, a formerly dead adept that came back to live via horrible rituals that turned him into a monster) inside and used manifesting nightmares as an equalizer because if they are going down, everyone does.
There was also the Heart of the City, an old tavern that was the building that marked grows of a village into the City, and, as such, became integral part of its inner workings. Even though it was burned down, it still existed and appeared on its usual spot for three hours each day. It was used as neutral grounds for adepts to discuss stuff. The line between the worlds of the living and the dead was thin there, so the face was a dead woman managing the place and taking payment in signs of life (art, blood, things with emotional attachments to them) from adepts to use it. She also served as an information broker, listening to whispers in the corners and learning various things from them. Obviously, she was most useful when it came to death and related stuff.
As for the system, yeah, Kerberos Club is a bit unwieldy compared to regular FATE system and requires much more preparation. In particular, we did magic via Variables X, so the players were expected to come up with a few spells so as not to stall the game with it by juggling trappings on the fly.
It’s also essentially a superhero game, hence power tiers, which is not good for every game style. We’ve never went beyond Supernatural tier, and even then I think tiers weren’t necessary for us as they made several confrontations with phantoms way too easy. On the other hand, the main villain as an unstoppable juggernaut turning the City upside down in pursuit of PCs was fun and made them think creatively, so there is that.
“Temmies”?
Also, what are the conceptual and mechanical differences between Lycanthropes and Were-forms in this setting?
An Undertale joke.
As for the difference, Lycanthropes are humans with beast spirits inside of them. They work better in packs, have keen senses and are stronger and faster than normal humans (the latter two only five days out of moon cycle), but are otherwise humans.
Were-forms can turn into animals at will. In their human form they don’t have any powers, in their animal form they gain abilities relevant to their animal form, which often gives them various advantages over humans, plus they reshuffle skills, basically having an alternative skill sheet, to reflect how different their animal form is.
So, Tera and her pack would use the Were-form template, while the berserker gangbangers would use the Lycanthrope one? Is that it? What about McFinn?
Yes. It’s consistent with canon, too, so I can’t complain too much about it being included in the game, though I still have no clue what’s the appeal of lycanthropes is.
As for McFinn, he’s classified as a monster and not playable by default. Which is actually fine. His curse is something that can be fun to give a player if you are into personal horror, but it’s tricky to handle, and it’s not really a power the way spellcasting or cool loot are, more a source of conflict and a hindrance.
Technically, nothing stops you from allowing players to pick this type of a werewolf to play, but the refresh cost is massive: twice as great as the maximum starting one. Personally, I would just create a separate char sheet for the wolf form (well, semi-separate, consequences would carry over, some aspects would be shared), since it’s basically an NPC under GM’s control that just occasionally replaces the PC. Maybe even give some bonuses for picking it.
I see. And yeah, the Lycanthrope template seems very underpowered. I’m guessing it’s cheap, at least?
It is, relatively speaking. You can afford it at the first power level, though it would eat up most of refresh. They powers actually aren’t that bad, but the restricted access undermines them majorly.
They are also tied to full moon for some reason, so their more potent powers are working only five days out of moon cycle, which would be frustrating in an actual game, and the book even notes it, suggesting using this template only if you are willing to mostly structure the game around full moons.
You know, I actually stumbled over this bit when I read this, because it seemed so obvious the line would be “suggesting NOT DOING THAT unless you’re willing to structure the game around full moons” as the solution.
They have even less connection to the full moon than the rest of the werewolf folk and the book’s admitting their powerup is so minor that you’d have to stick to the time it’s maxed out for it to be any use, so why wouldn’t you just let them use it normally?
It’s done through a disadvantage that lowers their refresh cost from 6 to 4. But yeah, they are pretty meh as a template. I guess they can work fine around Pure Mortals and Minor Talents.
Honestly, considering their access to their special advantages is entirely GM-dependent, I’d say they’re even worse off than Pure Mortals.
The game actually suggest compelling lycanthropes’ High Concept when you don’t want the moon to be full anytime soon, giving them a Fate point or a few as a reward for sticking with the template. Giving that the same (or likely better) effect is achieved through having higher refresh to begin with by virtue of not taking the template, though, it’s a consolation prize at best.
I’m going to ask a question that’s probably not going to come across as a legitimate question, but is meant as one: Why is Harry and Murphy racing to the door seen as an awful thing to do and Harry being sexist, while Murphy insulting Harry and calling him a bitch is seen as them being friends? I honestly don’t get it, because until I had started reading internet stuff about it, I had treated them as essentially the same kind of thing: it’s just a thing they do, it’s because their friends, and even though it isn’t something I’d want to do with my friends, it’s how they work. Because honestly, I’d have way more of a problem with a friend of mine casually insulting me than with opening doors for me, and yet that’s considered a good way to show friendship.
A separate issue: you do realize that this “White Men Council” you are talking about doesn’t exist, right? Because if you’re talking about the White Council in general, you see wizards from all around the world are part of it, and women are definitely in positions of power. And if you’re talking about the Senior Council, white men are a minority: of the seven members of the Senior Council that we meet at the beginning of Summer Knight when we first see them, there are three white men from different countries, a Chinese woman, a Middle Eastern man, an African American woman, and a Native American man. If you’re going to accuse things of being sexist and racist, you should at least get your facts right.
We’ve discussed the issue with the door racing here. The short of it is that the book aims for “two friends humorously needling each other” but falls way short of it in execution and lands on “Harry doesn’t care about Murphy’s feelings and is stuck inside his own solipsistic bubble. He likes behaving like an old-fashioned gentleman, so she should behave like a lady and be grateful for it.”
As for the White Men Council, yeah, it’s a joke playing on general whitewashing tendencies of DF that does not reflect the Council’s reality. They’re actually White Men and Racial Stereotypes Council.
Just read the bit you linked to, and honestly even with your commentary it read to me like it always has: as a first time writer without an editor trying to cram descriptions and characterization into a first person narrative where they don’t belong, and otherwise completely unproblematic. Because honestly, both the description of Murphy and Harry’s comments on how he likes treating women just feel jammed in and disconnected from the actual scene in progress.
And maybe I just don’t know enough about racial stereotypes, but the only thing that reads as stereotypical about the Senior Council members is that Listens to Winds has a raccoon he talks to–and given that this is a universe where animals can turn into humans and teach magic, communicating to animals doesn’t seem like much of a stereotype.
All I know of “Listens to Wind” are the bits quoted in these reviews – and I am agape at all the stereotypes. Just from the initial description in Ch. 4, we have:
1. Hunter stereotype together with “in tune with nature” stereotype. “His features, his bearing, everything about him blended into his background, swallowed by that stillness, patient and quiet as a stone beneath moon and sun.” Harry detects this not from actually seeing the man hold still for any length of time or remain calm under trying circumstances. No, Harry just knows this from one glance at the man.
2. The inscrutable stereotype. “His eyes, beneath silver brows, were dark, inscrutable, intense.”
3. All the dress stereotypes. “Eagle feathers adorned his braid, a necklace of bits of bone circled his throat, and he had a beaded bracelet wrapped around one forearm” Does it really need mentioning that there are several hundred Native American tribes, all with very different dress customs, and the above comes from European ideas of what ‘all’ Native Americans wear?
4. The magical animal companion. Enough said.
5. The name. Does Harry have to introduce himself to people of other cultures in whatever equivalent to ‘Home Protector’ their language has, because that’s the meaning of his name? No. We all get that Harry’s name is Harry. So what was the name this ‘genuine Illinois medicine man’ heard from his family and friends? Even if, tired of non-Natives mispronouncing it, he picked something easier to say, why did it have to be this? As the insult cherry on top of the insult sundae, Ebenezer, who is supposedly a good guy, dismisses even this as too hard to say. No, it has to be the name of a fictional villain or nothing.
6. Most importantly, this guy has no characteristic counter to stereotypes. If for instance he dressed in a business suit (like a lot of Native Americans today do); if instead of patiently blending, he was loud about telling everyone what to do (as a man accustomed to authority might); if he voiced any uncomfortable-to-hear opinions about how he’s treated (never mind the full weight of history and current, ongoing events there)… in short, if it looked like Butcher had put any thought into writing him as a person, I could perhaps forgive taking the shortcut of stereotypes for some parts. But not all, as here.
The issue is that I know you’re saying this, but I don’t see it. From my point of view, it is what the narrative is depicting. What I’m asking is how, exactly, the narrative isn’t depicting that.
Maybe that’s the difference. You view one of these things as completely fine in your relationships but not the other, and so interpret them as very different levels of acceptable in other people’s relationships. I, on the other hand, view both things as varying levels of unacceptable in my own relationships, so I tend to lump them together in other people’s relationships as “well, whatever they think is fine, it’s not my business to say it isn’t.”
That’s why I said it didn’t seem like much of a stereotype. It still is one, obviously, but it’s one that has in-universe reasons that make sense. Am I saying that clearly? It’s like the difference between a “dumb blonde” character where that’s all she is, versus a blonde character who just happens, among other things, to not be all that smart. Yes, obviously, if the second one is the only blonde in your story, then I’d prefer it not be the case, but the first one is unacceptable period unless maybe it’s a parody or something.
Also, genuine question, is there something particularly stereotypical about a raccoon? I just thought it was a small cute animal that was nevertheless clearly a wild animal (as opposed to a puppy or a kitten or something).
You view one of these things as completely fine in your relationships but not the other, and so interpret them as very different levels of acceptable in other people’s relationships.
It’s completely fine in my relationships because both parties are equal participants in what ultimately amounts to playful banter and neither are clearly unwilling even to the obviously-biased perspective of the willing participant.
It’s like the difference between a “dumb blonde” character where that’s all she is, versus a blonde character who just happens, among other things, to not be all that smart.
Except Injun Joe isn’t a well-rounded and characterized character who just happens to be a Native American with a pet raccoon. He’s exactly what you’d imagine the character description “a Native American with a pet raccoon named Injun Joe” to be. And that’s all he is.
is there something particularly stereotypical about a raccoon?
Raccoons feature heavily in Eastern Native American myths as knowledgeable and magical trickster characters (sort of like coyotes or foxes). It’s, like… the first animal that’d pop into my mind for a Native American’s magical guide.
I guess this makes sense. I had always interpreted Murphy’s annoyance as somewhat playful and not serious, but your interpretation is just as valid.
He isn’t at all what I’d imagine “a Native American with a pet raccoon named Injun Joe” to be. But YMMV, I suppose.
Well, if they feature in Native American myths, then given that Jim is explicitly writing an “all myths are true” kind of universe, him having a raccoon makes sense.
He isn’t at all what I’d imagine “a Native American with a pet raccoon named Injun Joe” to be.
Why, because he’s not wearing buckskin pants?
given that Jim is explicitly writing an “all myths are true” kind of universe
Ignoring that he’s really not, that doesn’t mean Injun Joe isn’t a stereotype. If anything, it’d be cause to not introduce a single native american side character who is defined by having the nickname “Injun Joe” and having a pet raccoon.
Well, if you’re going to claim that he’s a walking stereotype…
Look, I don’t know enough about Native American cultures to distinguish the difference between what a “stereotypical magic Native American” would look like verses what an actual Native American wizard who was around before we colonized America would look like. I’m just saying that based on my admittedly limited knowledge, it doesn’t feel like a problem to me, although it might to others.
How isn’t he?
How would trying to include different cultures’ mythologies be a reason not to have a Native American who has things representative of the Native American cultural understanding of magic?
That said, I believe I did indicate (or at least I meant to) that it would be better if there were more Native Americans in the books.
what an actual Native American wizard who was around before we colonized America would look like
Well, for starters, he probably wouldn’t be called motherfucking Injun Joe.
He isn’t. He’s called Listens to Winds. The only person who calls him Injun Joe is Ebenezer McCoy, who he in turn calls a “redneck hillbilly who doesn’t know better.” No one else refers to him as this. Since Ebenezer McCoy is old enough to have participated in the French and Indian war, it is understandable that he’s not to worried about politically correct vocabulary.
You’re one of those people who think “Karen” is an even worse slur than the N-word, aren’t you?
??? Karen is a slur?
Let’s not escalate this with unfounded assumptions and accusations, please.
Sure, thinking “Injun Joe” isn’t racist all by itself is “unfounded”.
I think the unfounded accusation bit was you accusing…me? someone else commenting? JB? of being either stupid or racist, actually.
For my part, I just think that if you’re going to make accusations, you should be clearer about them, because as you can see above, I’m not actually sure what you’re accusing whom of.
And seriously, what is the “Karen” thing?
I was referring to this:
No one else refers to him as this.
The narration does. But man, even naming him “Listen to Winds” is pretty stereotypical.
I’m well aware. My point is that it wasn’t an unfounded assumption.
You know how sometimes people use “Ok, Boomer” in a purposefully dismissive manner to annoy entitled white people who are at best insensitive toward serious subjects – such as, say, the racist depiction of Native Americans in media? Well, black women came up with “Ok, Karen” to do the same thing to white pop feminists who are still almost every bit as privileged and entitled as the establishment they supposedly oppose… Only now those same people are trying to claim this is just misoginy and equating calling a woman “Karen” with racial slurs.
So, to make things clearer: I think that if you really don’t see any issue with writing a Native American character called Injun Joe (and who’s also called that by Harry, not just Ebenezer) who basically checks everything on a “stereotypical Indian traits” list other than the buckskin pants, then at best you’re being racist on the same level as people who say things like “You’re a credit to your race!”.
So you are, in fact, making unfounded accusations, because based on this you haven’t read my posts. I say this because I have said repeatedly that I actually have very little idea what stereotypes surrounding Native Americans are, and certainly no way of differentiating a portrayal of those stereotypes from what a portrayal of an actual Native American wizard who’s been around since before Europeans colonized America. I also said that there ought to be more Native American characters who are different, to dilute the impression of stereotyping.
“I’m not sure what the stereotypes are but I am sure they’re not racist” is a very interesting level of surety.
Actually, what I said was “I don’t see how he’s a stereotype, but then again, it might be because I don’t know what the stereotypes are; can you elaborate?” And when people have elaborated, I have responded to their elaborations.
Seriously, before you make insulting assumptions about what I’m saying, please actually look at what I’m saying.
Perhaps if everyone if misinterpreting what you’re saying in the exact same way, the problem is on your end.
It feels to me like you’ve hit the point where you’ve lost touch with any solid position and are arguing to be contrarian, where because you disagree with us you have to contradict what’s being said. The goal here is not to talk until the last talker standing wins, but to have things you actually believe and meaningfully discuss them.
With that in mind, I suggest you take some time away from this conversation. If you have concrete points to make in the future, please make them on the relevant post in response to actual concrete things being said by Farla or others. The way this conversation is being carried out has reached uselessness.
edit: Just to avoid any confusion: I mean quite seriously “any further posts you make are going into moderation and will only be released if they’re on the appropriate Let’s Read post in direct response to actual things said.”
It feels to me like you’ve hit the point where you’ve lost touch with any solid position and are arguing to be contrarian, where because you disagree with us you have to contradict what’s being said.
It’s also not a good sign when I’m in an argument and not the target of this sentence. Feels weird to not be the petty contrarian for once.
I had treated them as essentially the same kind of thing: it’s just a thing they do, it’s because their friends, and even though it isn’t something I’d want to do with my friends, it’s how they work.
That’s kinda what the narrative tells you is going on, but it’s not what the narrative is depicting.
And this is coming from someone whose closest friendships are 100% all the vitriolic sort Butcher wants you to think Harry and Murphy have. This is not a game she is in on. It’s Harry’s game, and he’s forcing her to play it.
given that this is a universe where animals can turn into humans and teach magic, communicating to animals doesn’t seem like much of a stereotype
So, out of all the characters he could’ve given an animal companion to, it’s just a coincidence that the one animal companion we see is the raccoon of a Native American? He could’ve given a squirrel to Merlin, or a seagull to Martha Liberty, but he gave a raccoon to a Native American?
I accidentally posted my response to your comment as a reply to the comment above yours.
Honestly, I’m half-surprised Butcher didn’t have “Joe” make a dig at Disney’s Pocahontas by saying something like “This isn’t like the movies, we don’t all have a raccoon as our spirit animal”, and then give him an equally stereotypical spirit animal, like a coyote.