Fate Character Generator

(Reposted from the Cursed By Dice podcast blog because I can and you should subscribe too)

Sometimes coming up with FATE Core character is a challenge.  We’ll have our character creation episode uploaded next week as we move to a new story arch and this episode will help elaborate on the challenge of making a character the player wants to play.

Getting started is the hard part.  That’s where this FATE Core character generator comes in handy!

Click here for the Fate Core Character Generator you didn’t know you needed:

https://thimbleprojects.org/scowling12/307475/

Character types you may run into include:

My character has a high concept of Ravenous Appetite for Destruction
With aspects
Artist soul
and
Can never sing the right words.
I will soon know my fate.

Or maybe:

My character has a high concept of Wandering Hero
With aspects
Kraken battler
and
Bartenders Love Them.
I will soon know my fate.

Or even:

My character has a high concept of Intrepid Reporter
With aspects
Seeker of Justice
and
slow learner.
I will soon know my fate.

I adore javascript ‘Generator’ scripts (you might enjoy a Steampunk Airship Name Generator as well)

This generator is also super helpful in putting together NPCs!

Best part, this is a Thimble project so you can get in there and remix, update, change, correct spelling all you want to!  Everyone can play! Yippee!

Come on over and check out the podcast here on iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/cursed-by-dice/id1271099109

or from podcasts.com here: http://www.podcasts.com/cursed-by-dice-01b9cda3c

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The Five Secrets of Harold Cape

Harold Cape was a simple man.  Described most often as honest, loyal and even tempered, he would have made a good mayor or barber.  He craved not the power of local government or the comradeship of a barber shop, though, and instead opted for a career as a craftsman putting together perfectly constructed fishing poles.

His poles were displayed in the dens of wealthy men and women who had never sat at a lake’s shore, but that did not bother him in the slightest.  He took their money and bought himself the boat of his dreams so he could catch a fish or two.  He was a simple man.

Even simple men can be complex at times.  For example, Harold Cape had never told anyone that he had memorized the words of Green Day’s American Idiot.  He was well outside of that album’s target demographic when it was released, but he knew good music when he heard it and now whistles the melody of St. Jimmy while sailing his dream boat and catching fish.

He was no fan of puns.  He once punched a stranger in a bar for making a crude play of words involving the free peanuts.  When his wife picked him up at the police station following a brief holding period, he told her there was an unpaid parking ticket under with his name attached that caused the trouble.  No one, not even fishing buddies, would believe that he once punched a man for something so trivial.

He hated lying about that.  He hated lying in general.  Harold Cape feared lies.  He felt he was too dumb to keep track of the truths he said, how in the world could he keep up with the lies?  This fear made him an incredibly honest person, but he likes to make others believe he is capable of lies.  Usually this amounts to little more than ending a statement with “or is it?” Followed soon with a dramatic ‘bum bum bum.”

His fondness for cake once cost him a winning lottery ticket.  He told the story once to his oldest son and made him promise to never tell his mother.  As he told the story, he was standing in line a gas station when he saw a flash of light from the corner of his eye.  He over reacted initially, thinking the light was sourced at an incoming squirrel or other threat, but when he looked quickly to his right he saw a display of cake and other sugary treats.  His stomach roared and his brained pleaded for the dopamine rush of a sugar binge.  He left the line and went to stare at the desserts for a solid fifteen minutes.

The store sold a winning lottery ticket that weekend at 3:58 pm, exactly one minute after Harold had left the line.  The man behind him had taken home 3.5 million dollars lump sum.  Harold was furious.

It was in his anger that Harold did something he promised himself he would keep secret beyond the grave.  The Monday after he discovered what happened with the lottery ticket, he donned a mask and grabbed a bat.  He ran, he was younger then and still believed running was a thing people should do, to the gas station and robbed the store.  He took a stack of scratch tickets, five Slim-Jims, a pack of M&Ms and a cigar he did not intend on smoking.  Then he ran off to the night.  He was upset with how good he felt after the robbery.

When he was far enough from the scene, he began scratching off the lottery tickets to see what he had won.  He never claimed the seven dollars that showed up over the 200 tickets.

Harold Cape makes fishing poles.  He’s honest, loyal and even tempered.  He put a lot of effort in making sure this is what people think of him.  If his secrets got out, well, by golly that would be devastating.

Go Go Bad Guy

“It just bugs me sometimes, I don’t know,” First Pylon of the Invincible Mind, Roderick Stone said as he marched alongside his number two, Second Pylon of the Invincible Mind, Maynard Fox.

“I don’t see the problem.  Some rank titles just get longer than others,” Maynard replied.

“Yeah, but the other guys don’t have to worry about rank titles.  They’re just ‘the blue guy’ and ‘the red guy’, I think I heard a real first name last time one of their squads came in here,” Roderick said.

Maynard practiced a high kick as they continued their route.

“The titles would not bug me so much if we could skip them at dinner.  But no, policy states that I have to thank Proud Servant of the Invincible Mind Betty Stout whenever I take an extra biscuit.  It is just a weird policy,” Roderick continued.

“You ever think about where these policies come from?” Maynard say.  He followed with a ‘hi-yah’ and punched the air.

“Right? Not once have I seen an OSHA flyer or been sent a review of the 401k package.  You ever been to a break room without a poster about how to submit an anonymous ethics violation?  I knew this gig was going to be different, but there are rules to follow, you know?” Roderick was full of questions. Continue reading

Harlin and the Crickets

Harlin grew old as most tend to do.  He moved into his senior years so gradually he barely noticed.  A few gray hairs here and there.  Eye glass prescriptions steadily grew in strength.  He began saying goodbye friends more regularly.  All of it happened so naturally and that when he finally realized he was old he regretted his rush through life.

He sat at his favorite diner and perused the menu.  He knew what he was going to get, he always ordered the same thing, but the menu ritual had long been part of his routine.  He held the folded cardstock paper closer and closer to his face every week it felt.

In the corner of his eye he saw the waitress appear, scrambling to find a pencil from her apron.

“Don’t rush on my account, dear,” he said, his eyes fixed on the menu still, “I’ve done plenty of that on own.”

She laughed, “Do you need another minute to decide?”

He looked away from his menu.  “New here?” He asked. Continue reading

People on the Highway

My senior year of high school I was working an after school job at a fried chicken place in a mall food court.  Shifts would generally end after 11:00 and I would be home, very ready to sleep, by 11:30 or midnight (depending on how poorly I cleaned up before close).  Because it was a night shift far from home I drove myself to and from work in my beloved POS car, a Ford LTD.  The LTD died dramatically.  Just an awful death caused by awful engineering.

For a couple of nights getting to and from work though, my dad let me borrow his fancy schmancy sports car.  A zippy Toyota MR2.  It was sleek, greenish I think, and so low to the ground it was almost terrifying.  One night driving home in my dad’s beloved vehicle I was being tailed like none other.  Guy behind me is so close I can only see head lights.  It felt like the darkest midnight ever and here I was driving by a cemetery in near sunlight.

I thought, “this dude* is going run into my dad’s car and no matter what I am a dead man.”  (*I didn’t call him ‘dude’).  So I did what any 17 year old in a sports car would do; speed up to 50 to ditch to tailgater.

Not a second after hitting the 50 MPH mark the car behind me lit up the entire city with red and blue lights.  Cop.

I have not borrowed one of my father’s cars since.

Today, I saw a kid taking a borrowed car to school and I saw a story repeated time and time again.

Today’s tale: Ten and Two

Continue reading

Raewyn and the Hearth of the Matter

Raewyn had made a career of convincing exorbitantly wealthy individuals that the best thing they could for themselves was purchase a hand forged, iron cast, hearth.  It was, for all intents and purposes, completely impractical to cook with a hearth; but she did not sell practical.  She sold art.  She sold adventure.  She sold unique.  She sold conversation and envy.  She sold the one thing that would bring her clients to a better standing in their own life and all they had to do was sign on bottom line, make a little down payment and in three to four weeks they would be the talk of the town.

What she really loved was being paid to do something she adored. Continue reading

Kemp on the Radio

A dark road and a book on a tape were Kemp’s two favorite things.  When the two items shared time together, he was happy as a pig in mud.  He loved that phrase.  Good fries at a small diner? He’d enjoy it like a pig loves mud.  Half priced gas station coffee? He’d be smiling like a pig in mud.  He varied little from that expression.  He tried the phrase “happy like a toad on a Tuesday” but no one knew what he was talking about.

Kemp drove a truck.  A big Peterbilt he called home for weeks on end.  He hauled all sorts of good and wares across the country.  One day, much to his delight, he even carried pigs.  They were frozen for science classes, which he imagined made the pigs themselves none too happy, but students learning about the body would be happy as pigs in mud about their lab.  The truck was his way to see the country.  Coast to coast, border to border; he had been everywhere. Continue reading