Friday, November 2, 2007

Why? (Part I)

Like most people over the age of 30, I lament that I'm not younger than I am. For me, the '80s was a particularly crappy time to grow up. There was only 13 channels, no internet, and Ronald Reagan was President. Bad times all around.

Aside from going outside and playing (and yes, I did plenty of that), social activities were pretty limited in 1984. I was thirteen, already too old for action figures. Computer games were primitive and only one person in our neighborhood had a console, and for reasons I can't even remember that person and I didn't get along -- actually, there was startlingly bad blood between us. We had come to blows several times, and at one point, he ran out of his house brandishing a kitchen knife threatening to stab me. Needless to say, I was never invited over to play Pong.

Comic books and role-playing games were the main engines of social interaction among the geeky. When there was nothing else going on, two geeks could always get together to talk about comic books. When the latest shipments came in and were subsequently purchased, the entire afternoon would be spent sitting on someone's living room floor reading the latest booty. Countless hours were spent perusing each other's back issues, trading for stuff we didn't have, or debating who was more powerful, Superman or Thor? (It's Superman, by the way -- just let it go -- but it didn't matter, because Thor was always cooler).

Role-playing games had been a part of my life since I was seven years old, with the first edition of Dungeons and Dragons. TSR, in a brilliant marketing stroke decided to put a scary-looking demon-thing on the cover of it's Dungeon Master's Guide, thereby revealing to us which parents were gullible enough to believe idiotic news reports that it had something to do with the occult. We also had the world's best Dungeon Master, a ten-year old wunderkind who could quote every single rule and memorized every chart with the efficiency of a CPA. He's probably a millionaire now.

By 1984, D&D had opened the doors for other RPGs: Star Frontiers (stupendous game, always wondered why it wasn't more popular), Gamma World, Car Wars, Top Secret... it was a role-playing cornucopia. So when I first learned that TSR decided to combine my two favorite things, Marvel Comics and role-playing, well... I don't even remember what happened. I think I passed out.

I do remember scarfing up that bright, yellow box at Toys R' Us, tearing it open in the car on the ride home and devouring the rules. I remember the sheer giddiness of reading the Campaign book, narrated by a host of Marvel characters. I remember cursing the fact that the stats for a measly EIGHT heros came with the set (an absolute outrage!). I remember GM'ing the included adventure, "Day of the Octopus" with my friends Mark and Kevin. We finished the whole thing in a day.

Here's my favorite memory: at the time I was (unnecessarily) seeing a child psychologist. I was one of those "do great on the tests but don't do the homework" types. Homework was boring, I explained. Nowadays they would have labeled it ADD and dosed me up with Ritalin. Back then, it was EEG tests and a child psychologist. So the psychologist, a pleasant Asian man with a thick accent, spent one entire session with me doing one of my favorite things: playing the Marvel Super Heroes RPG. So we played an hour's worth of "Day of the Octopus," (likely the most expensive gaming session ever, now that I think about it) with him assuming the role of The Thing. He didn't know a thing about the comics, and when I explained that The Thing's battle cry was "It's Clobbering Time," he decided to yell it out before every single attack. I'm smiling just thinking about that.

To be continued...

Wednesday, October 31, 2007

Better Living Through Morality: The Tao of Karma

Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap. -- Galatians 6:7

While the MSHRPG (that'll be the shorthand from now on) dabbled in economics with a secondary "ability" called Resources and Resource Points, the real currency of the game was a thing called Karma.

Karma is a Sanskrit word that (more or less) describes the sum of all actions that an individual has done, is doing and will do over the course of his lifetime. In the game, Karma (or more appropriately Karma points) could be spent to adjust dice rolls on the aforementioned Universal Table, in order to ensure that you accomplished whatever it is you were setting out to do.

Karma was rewarded or taken away depending on the hero's actions, as shown below (click on the pic to expand it):



(note: thanks to ClassicMarvel.com from whose PDFs of the source material many of these captures were taken. And thanks to ImageShack's hosting and handy-dandy Firefox toolbar for making the host-and-post process so easy. This blog wouldn't be the same without either of them.)

On this table are various rewards and demerits for performing specific actions. The basic concept, of course, is that if you do something altruistic, you gain Karma. If you consciously avoid doing something altruistic (or do something malevolent), you lose Karma. Now, under the tenets of Indian philosophy, you don't really gain or lose karma, so maybe in game terms it's more appropriate to say that it ebbs and flows or something. Theologically speaking, the overriding concept appears to be more Ecclesiastical in philosophy.

But within the realm of the Marvel Universe, it works. Conviction is often given as the reason that heroes like Captain America and Spider-Man succeed against overwhelming odds, and Karma is representative of that. Karma can also be used toward a character's advancement, increasing ability or power ranks or even, by spending enough of it, gaining a new power. In that respect, it's replaced the usual "experience points" that are used in most role-playing games. In the Marvel Universe, morality trumps experience.

One fun conceit of the Campaign Book was that individual sections were narrated by different characters. Spider-Man did most of the talking, but Dr. Stange clued us in about magic, Reed Richards explained special environments, Henry Peter Gyrich gave us a rundown on government and the law, and Hank McCoy, a.k.a. The Beast, narrated the section on animals because he looks like one. I think the writers lost some Karma points for that one. Anyhoo, the section on Karma was narrated by none other than Captain America. Because if you want someone telling you about right and wrong, it may as well be Cap, right? Take it away, Cap:

"Those of us who are single enjoy going out for dinner, or dancing, or a movie with our respective girlfriends or boyfriends." In related news, my tongue is bleeding from my biting it so hard. The sad part is that when I read that as a thirteen year old, I think I was nodding along in agreement. The "date" reward was always a bit confusing. The above chart lists the reward that provides a range of 2-20 karma points, and the book adds these two visual examples:



So the Thing get ten points for taking Alicia out to dinner while Peter only five for taking Mary Jane out dancing. Why is that? Did the Thing spend more? Who knows?

Cap continues: "Married heroes get karma points for spending a week with their spouse, and a bonus if the kids are around." Best not let them run off into traffic, then. In case you're curious, "going out on a date" nets you anywhere from 2-20 points of karma, while "spending a week with family" gets you 15-25 (the difference between kids and no kids, I think). So, theoretically, you could get more karma from going out on a date than spending the week with your wife. I'm just sayin'.

That's not the best part. Say that Reed Richards is aware that Doctor Doom is devising a plot to take over the world, but he decides, "screw it, I'm taking Sue and Franklin to the Catskills for seven days and we're going fishing." According to the game rules he would lose 25 points for permitting a "global conspiracy" to happen, but gains 25 points for spending a week with his family. Doom may wind up ruling the world, but Reed breaks even! And the train coming back from the Catskills will probably run on time, so really, everybody wins.

More good stuff: "A hero who doesn't meet his professional or school assignments loses Karma too, whether the failure is because of injury or because the hero was out at Alpha Centauri fighting Skrulls. The loss is 10 Karma per week, unless the hero made arrangements with his boss or school beforehand." I think a note from the Living Tribunal should suffice. By the way, having an excuse to read that sentence again is reason enough to do this blog.

I know it seems like I'm making fun of the content here. Nothing could be further from the truth. I absolutely loved this game. It was likely responsible for as many happy hours of my childhood as anything this side of the actual comic books. I admire the amount of work that the game's creators put into it, so when I joke about some of the stuff written here, it's with the deepest of affection. Honest.

One of the fascinating things about RPGs is how they're supposed to mimic the complexity of "real life" and boil it down to a system that translates into dice rolls, cards, charts and whatever else. The deconstruction of such mundane things is always interesting. This aspect got de-emphasized later on (the modules for the Advanced game rarely tossed in these personal encounters). This is understandable. While Peter Parker's personal life is a crucial part of the Spider-Man mythos, it's not terribly exciting to role-play his lunch with Aunt May.

Taking a seat at the Universal Table

I can't imagine that anyone taking the time to read this blog doesn't already know what FASERIP is, but just in case:

  • Fighting
  • Agility
  • Strength
  • Endurance
  • Reason
  • Intuition
  • Psyche
Collectively, these were every character's abilities in the Marvel Super Heroes game. Each of them had a rank, a descriptive name that was associated with a specific number. These ranks were used in conjunction with something called The Universal Table.


The above table was the heart of the Marvel Super Heroes RPG. Everything that a hero did was resolved on this table. The ranks running across the top of the table (Feeble, Poor, Typical, etc.) were the various ranks for a hero's abilities and powers. They determined your success or failure in accomplishing anything and everything. The chart determined whether or not you hit the bad guy. The rank number determined how much it hurt.

One of the most underrated aspects of the game was the use of descriptors as ranks, as opposed to raw numbers. This may have been done in other RPGs, but I'm not aware of it. It was always more fun to say that your character had Remarkable strength as opposed to a strength of 30, and I don't think there was anyone who I played the game with that eschewed the name of the rank in favor of the number. Also, the descriptors that they chose are perfect within the context of a comic book universe (click on the pic to see all of it):


That just seems right, doesn't it? You start off modest (Feeble, Poor, Typical, Good) and get more extraordinary as you move up (Excellent! Remarkable! Incredible! Amazing!) before getting to the levels where our simple minds can scarcely comprehend what's going on, and fear naturally sets in (Monstrous! Unearthly!). You can see that the distance between these numbers exponentially increases along these lines as well, which is wholly appropriate. The "shift" columns (Shift 0, Shift X) were there because occasionally factors could "shift" your rank to the left or right, thus decreasing/increasing the impact. I don't know why they decided on "Shift X" -- maybe it was a precursor to the "X-mania" that would soon overwhelm the Marvel Universe -- but when the advanced game came out (which we'll discuss later on), they ran with it, creating two more columns, Shift Y and Shift Z. Class 1000 was supposed to indicate power levels that were well beyond human understanding, the sort of beings that could wipe out the Earth by flicking a booger at it. This was also expanded upon in the advanced game, adding Class 3000 and Class 5000, presumably so these cosmic entities could have some sort of bragging rights over each other. And there was a final column, "Beyond" for which the number was an infinity symbol. The rank refers to one of the sorriest characters ever to grace the Marvel Universe, but we'll discuss *him* in later chapters as well.

Next up: The fascinating subject of Karma.

Monday, October 29, 2007

Roll for initiative, bitches...

Ahhhh, remember how those three little words used to make you tingle? "Roll for initiative." It meant that some dice-throwing, Universal Table-checking *MAYHEM* was about to ensue. I am, of course, referring to the Marvel Super Heroes Role-Playing Game.




Between the years of 1984 and 1993, TSR released three rulesets; a whopping 27 supplemental rule and roster books and box sets (including the immortal Ultimate Powers Book, aka One Of The Greatest Works Of Western Literature and eight mammoth volumes of the Gamer's Handbook of the Marvel Universe); 29 "modules" (adventures for use with the rule system); and I-don't-know-how-many Adventure Game Books ("Choose Your Own Adventure" style books that sorta kinda incorporated the MSHRPG rules).

Yes, Marvel followed this up in 1998 with the Marvel Super Heroes Adventure Game featuring the card-based SAGA system, and it wasn't bad, but it never caught on the way the old system did. I never even saw the short-lived Marvel Universe RPG, which had a shelf life of less than a year. In any event, this blog is about the classic version of the game, with FASERIP and FEATS; Shift X, Y and Z; and green, yellow and red results. Don't worry, dear reader, all will be explained.

Along the way, we'll examine all of the products put out by TSR, look at the reflected state of Marvel Comics at that time, and reminisce about the crazy characters and/or adventures our dementedly adolescent minds came up with. Good times, good times.