Mage: The
Ascension FAQ
Lots of people have lots of questions about Mage. Many of those
questions have no black-and-white answers - after all, this is a game about
dueling realities. Even so, some issues come up across the table - and
on the internet, and in my mailbox - again and again. I think it's time
I gave some straight answers.
The following collection of inquiries comes from the upcoming The
Book of Mirrors Mage Storytellers Guide. For the sake of sanity and simplicity,
I'm not going over first edition questions that were answered in second
edition. Many of the old issues are resolved in that book's Chapters Two,
Eight and Nine, and all of the references I make come from the current
rules, not the original ones. Naturally, I can't - and won't - answer every
conceivable question; Mage is a game of mystery and enigmas. Shining a
light into every corner would be an impossible task, and would take a lot
of the fun out of the game.
Mage is a big game. Where does a new Storyteller start?
With the people. That's where good stories always begin. Find an idea
that excites you, one that suits your players and your style. Each game
is a mirror of the people who play it. Find the elements that appeal to
you and work from there.
The main rulebook has everything you need to run a basic game; the
supplements offer additional options and in-depth lore that the rulebook
can't contain. Core supplements (those with neat important stuff) include
The Book of Shadows, The Book of Madness, The Book of Mirrors and Beyond
the Barriers: The Book of Worlds.
What advice can you offer a Mage Storyteller, especially one who's
never run RPGs before?
First of all, don't panic. Mage has lots of possibilities, but that
doesn't mean you have to use them all. Build the story around something
you can sink your teeth into. Set some guidelines for your players and
their character types - no Virtual Adepts, all characters come from the
same neighborhood, that sort of thing - and stick to your vision. Familiarize
yourself with the magick systems in the main rulebook; if things seem too
complicated, avoid the "Permutations" section and just use the
basics. Set a single focus for the chronicle - say a nightclub where everybody
goes on Fridays - and expand when you feel comfortable doing so.
Personally, I recommend beginning players before their Awakenings,
or just afterward, setting an upper limit of 2 or 3 on Arete and Spheres.
That gives you room to move - the players can't do anything too heinous
yet - and reinforces the idea that Mage is about growth, not raw power.
Most importantly, have fun. Get into the atmosphere of mystery. Improvise.
Describe. Set your tale in motion with a simple story and let the players
move it. Trying to force a Mage game in a predetermined direction is asking
for trouble, but you can still keep things within certain bounds by limiting
the power level and leaving some of the more outrageous elements (Quiet,
Realms, the Umbra) out of the game until you're ready for them.
Keep the world mysterious - wizards won't be hanging out on every corner.
Few people even believe magick exists in this world, and even fewer know
anything about it. When magick appears, describe how it feels. Ask your
players what they do to use their Arts - not just the game mechanics, but
the actions their characters take. Encourage your troupe to be imaginative.
A cool story is better than a pile of corpses - or an endless argument.
Can a vampire/werecreature/changeling/wraith become a mage, or vice
versa? How about ghouls or Kinfolk? Why don't these creatures get Paradox
when what they do clearly violates "reality"?
No, no, no, no and no. Mages can be ghouls (or vice versa), but drinking
Kindred blood stimulates a taste for more of the same. That's a dangerous
habit, even for a mage, and may lead to a Blood Bond - or a blood hunt.
As for shapeshifter Kin, there's no reason why one couldn't Awaken, but
there's no real "system" benefit from doing so. Both "types"
are immune to the Delirium (see below) and either one could be a friend,
an enemy or both to the Changing Breeds.
The theories about Paradox and other supernatural creatures are many
and varied. No, they don't get Paradox as a rule. Why not? For simplicity's
sake, let's just say that what they do conforms to "static" boundaries.
Those powers work the same way each time with the same limitations. A Curse
of Aeolus Gift creates a wall of fog. That's it. Nothing else. A mage can
do the same thing with Matter or Forces magick, but she can do a great
deal more. A werewolf is limited to the powers Gaia gave him, while a mage
is limited only by her understanding and skill. The price for that potential
is Paradox, the force that kicks in when you push reality too far, too
quickly. Mages do that. The others don't.
Can a mage regenerate damage? Can she soak aggravated wounds? Is
healing injuries vulgar or coincidental magick?
No and no. Some "house rules" might offer a mage a soak roll
against vampire and Garou claws and teeth, if only for survival. Strictly
speaking, though, a mystick needs Life magick to soak or heal aggravated
damage. Mages are mortal, and mortals bleed. A lot.
The third answer depends on the injury; healing a broken arm could
be coincidental ("It's just sprained"), so long as the bone isn't
sticking out of the skin. Healing a severe burn would be vulgar, but healing
internal injuries wouldn't be. In general, assume that if a person watching
the operation would say "That can't be!", the healing is vulgar.
Oh, yeah; healing aggravated wounds is always vulgar. Sorry.
Are mages immune to the Delirium that most shapeshifters provoke?
Yes. This doesn't mean that a 10-foot-tall werewolf doesn't scare a
mage (it'd scare the hell out of me!), just that he won't go running off
in blind panic.
Why do so many Mage books contradict each other?
With a few exceptions (like rules changes between first and second
editions), they don't. They just seem to contradict each other because
they're often told from a subjective viewpoint rather than an objective
one. If you're used to an objective view - "This is. Period"
- the difference can be confusing. The subjective viewpoint - "This
is so because I see it that way." - offers one part of the story.
As we know, though, all stories have different perspectives.
Take history, for example: Read an account of the American Revolution
in a United States textbook. Now imagine it from a British perspective
- a bunch of spoiled colonists rejecting fair rule by their sovereign state.
We can safely assume their textbooks tell a different story. Take an American
war movie like The Longest Day and contrast it with a German one like Das
Boot. Who are you rooting for now?
Get the picture? Reality is never as cut-and-dried as we would like
it to be. And that's one of the main ideas in Mage. Reality is flexible,
and everyone has their version.
One of my all-time favorite movies, Akira Kurosawa's Rashamon, tells
the story of the same crime from four different perspectives. Each person
has a different version of the events. A tribunal trying to get to the
bottom of the case is baffled, and the men discussing it outside the court
are even more confused. "Who knows what truth is?" one man finally
says, and that's what I'm getting at in Mage. The absolute truth is that
there is no absolute truth. The supplements are designed accordingly.
The only things to take for granted in a Mage book are presented in
game text, usually with the words "In game terms, this means."
Everything else is up for grabs. I do this for two reasons: One, I like
a subjective world. It's more intriguing and mysterious, and reflects the
themes of the game better than a world set in stone. Two, it leaves writers
and Storytellers room to move. I hate it when a player says "But it
says on page 32 that all Technocrats live in Paris" while I'm running
a tale set in London. By leaving the doors of possibility open, Mage becomes
more flexible. Everyone has a story, and those stories are richer for their
apparent "contradictions."
Why aren't the Chantry, Familiar, Resources or Sanctum Backgrounds
given in the main rulebook?
Long story. They're available in The Book of Shadows, the Mage Players
Guide, and were originally included in the second edition rulebook. The
first version of that book ran far too long to be printed, however, and
many things had to go. Since the Backgrounds existed elsewhere, they were
cut (the other material went into Hidden Lore: The Second Edition Book
and Screen). Since the cuts were made while the book was in the layout
stage, we missed the reference to them on the Character Creation Process
chart. Even then, that reference is only half a mistake; the Backgrounds
are still available, just not in the main rulebook.
When are you coming out with The Nephandi Players Guide?
I'm not. Period. I'm as open-minded as the next person (and more open-minded
than most), but the idea of a Players Guide for mages dedicated to corruption
strikes me as careless and offensive. Vampires aren't real. Werewolves
aren't real. Faeries aren't real. Ghosts may be real, but who wants to
die to find out? Magick, to some degree, is real. Many people practice
it. To make black magic seem cool is asking for trouble of all different
kinds.
Do we have to play members of the nine Traditions? Must I use the
Ascension War as my chronicle setting?
Not at all. You can run a Technocracy game, a Crafts game or a mixed-group
chronicle, so long as the characters have some reason to be together. Your
characters can avoid the factions altogether and forge their own destinies
(see "Solitaries" in Mage, pages 55-56); my own player-character
mage is a loner with no Tradition or alliance. Although I hesitate to suggest
a Nephandi chronicle (the issue of black magick strikes a little too close
to home; see above), and feel that a Marauder one would be problematic,
they're always options if you're willing to do the work (see The Book of
Madness, Chapters One and Three). The Council merely provides one of several
options within the Ascension War.
As a symbol of change, order, balance and decay, the Ascension War
itself provides both a backdrop for adventure and a powerful allegory.
It's also a logical progression from the question "What if you really
could mold reality this way?" I think it's reasonable to assume that,
given magick's powers, secret societies would spring up and vie for world
domination. Mortal nations have done it throughout human existence, so
why should magickal societies be any different? The forces those societies
represent tie into the metaphysical heart of the game; the struggle between
them represents the dance of creation itself. Finally, the Ascension War
provides us all with a forum for debate and satire. The writers and artists
who create the game books make many subtle (and not-so-subtle) commentaries
throughout the line, and individual Storytellers can pack their chronicles
with as many political and social observations as they desire. In short,
the Ascension War provides us with a lot of raw material and a framework
for building with it.
If the conflict doesn't work for you, however, scrap it and do what
you will. If you want a game setting without an Ascension War, then by
all means pitch the idea. The only constants in a Mage game should be:
- The idea that magick is a real and viable force;
- That magick stretches the boundaries between what is "real"
and what is not;
- That magick carries the weight of responsibility, whether you like
it or not; and.
- That the mage transforms both herself and the world around her through
her Arts.
The Ascension War provides a conflict dynamic for Mage's setting and
a metaphor for the forces involved, but it's hardly the only way to play
the game. One of Mage's greatest strengths (and most intimidating aspects)
is that there isn't a "right" way to play it. It's as open-ended
as you want it to be.
Does a character have to stay within his original Tradition? Does
everyone within a Tradition practice the same magick style?
No to both questions. Traditions are social groups, not magickal castes.
Some are more formal than others, but all of them offer their members some
flexibility. Obviously, they mandate some kind of instruction (the magick
styles mentioned in the group descriptions) and order, but they rarely
hold a member who wants to leave.
In the beginning, the Council formed around three things: magickal
practices, cultural backgrounds and mystic philosophies. Over the last
500 years they've favored the last two qualifications over the first one,
and have considered philosophy more important than anything else. The early
Traditions insisted on orthodoxy, but they soon threw the idea out when
it became impractical. Nowadays a mage uses whatever tools she prefers.
There are common elements, of course. Hermetic masters don't teach
their apprentices pagan blood magick, and Virtual Adepts don't build Frankenstein
monsters. People tend to be drawn to others like themselves, so most mages
within a given Tradition practice similar magicks. Even so, the Tradition
provides a community, not a commandment. Some Verbena use computers. Some
Ecstatics use them, too. Some Virtual Adepts prefer to work their magick
through musical instruments, while their Dreamspeaker friends talk to the
sprits of power tools. Diversity is the cornerstone of the Council of Nine;
so long as a mage agrees with the idea behind the magick, the form she
uses to channel it is unimportant.
A mage who leaves one Tradition for another might be considered flaky,
even dangerous. Magick requires discipline, and while the Traditions value
imagination, they frown on people who can't make up their minds. The rivalries
within the Council (and the enemies outside) make trust a valuable trait.
A mystick who shuttles between different groups seems untrustworthy; one
who leaves the Council entirely seems treasonous. Even so, some mages forswear
allegiance to the Tradition that trained them. Most even live to tell about
it. Quitting is not a capitol offense.
The Conventions are a lot more rigid. Technocrats consider themselves
parts in an important machine, and they don't take well to people who refuse
to fit in. Malcontents rarely end up in the Technocracy's ranks to begin
with. If the Union's ideals don't scare them off, its screening process
often weeds them out.
The upper levels of the Spheres are really powerful. Why don't the
archmages simply wish the Technocracy out of existence? Why doesn't the
Inner Circle mount an all-out attack against Horizon? Why do all these
ultra-powerful mages plot and plan instead of wipe each other out?
For the same reason the U.S., the Soviet Union and China didn't just
settle their differences the old-fashioned way during the Cold War: mutually
assured destruction. If your rival has the same weapons you have, and any
one of you could wipe the floor with creation as it is, it's suicide to
whip out the nukes and let fly. There's a tremendous amount of reality
at an archmage's fingertips. No one wants to be on the receiving end of
it if he gets mad. Multiply that power by a dozen or more and you'll see
why Doissetep is a hotbed of intrigue instead of a battleground. If every
archmage in the Chantry dealt with his problems as an angry mortal might,
the place would've become a crater centuries ago. If all the rival mysticks
did the same Well, draw your own conclusions.

Mage: The Ascension Archive
[ Poetry Corner
] [ Short Story Forum ] [ Vampire
Pub II ] [ Music Jukebox ]
[ Role-Play Forum ] [ Guestbook
] [ Other Links ] [ Return Home
] [ Credits/Copyrights ] [ Email
]
Copyright © 1996 -
1997
Created by
Wolf
Pack Inc, Friday, August 29, 1997
Most recent revision Tuesday, September 30, 1997