After a bird’s eye look at some of the main differences between Fantasy World and other PbtA games such as Dungeon World, the next step is to give a deep look at some playable Classes and the design choices that went into them.

As planned, today is the day we analyze the Priest.

Next week, as requested by popular acclamation, we will go under the hood of the Occultist.

TL:DR

A long tradition of roleplaying games has defined a set of unspoken but clear assumptions on how religious/divine Classes (such as the D&D or DW Cleric) should work in play. By extension this has shaped how such games deal with fantasy religion in general. By design, Fantasy World defies these expectations and in this article I would like to explain how and why. Obviously anything I say about religion in the real world comes with a big glowing IMHO on top of it; I’m talking about my personal experiences and observations, and how they shaped the design of the Priest in FW.

Religion -vs- Politics

Belief in an unknowable divine presence is religion.

Belief in a person is politics.

The approach to religion found in the vast majority of fantasy games is that gods are unequivocally real and very much vocal in expressing their divine will.

Your PC never doubts that their god exists.

Your PC never doubts what their god wants.

Your PC never doubts how to worship their god.

If your PC has access to the magic juice bestowed by their god, then the PC has tangible proof that whatever they are doing must be ok, in accordance with divine will. When your PC does wrong, their god will express displeasure in no ambiguous terms: games abound with gods that communicate clearly and directly what they want and how they want it done.

Non-Protagonist Characters (NPCs) can, for cosmetic and plot-device reasons, fall temporarily into patterns of belief and doubt more similar to those of our real world, but eventually they will get proof and clarification, either by the deity itself or by one of the people with a privileged line of divine communication, possibly a PC belonging to some “divine” Class.

Because of this structure the classic divine Classes in fantasy games are not religious figures but rather, for all intents and purposes, political supporters, doing propaganda for their chosen brand of divine leadership. Faith and belief are only involved in the choice of one religion over another, exactly like we do for political parties. It is a matter of core values, convenience, shared goals and credibility. Not faith. Not belief. Not religion. As a result, in most fantasy games playing a “Cleric” or a “Paladin” is comfortable and safe: you as a Player want to do X or portray Y, so you choose/create a god that fits, encourages and supports that line of action. Your PC never questions or doubts their faith, as every step of the way they find reassurance and confirmation that what they do is (in their god's perspective) righteous and just.

This is ok. This is valid. This is good, solid, escapist fun.

But this is also not religion as we know it. In our real world, in our real life, we have no tangible and conclusive proof of the existence of any divine entity. Belief is a choice that get tested every day:

• do I believe that [insert deity] exists?
• do I believe that what the books and clergy say is actually [insert deity]’s will?
• do I believe that what I am doing, and how I am doing it, meets [insert deity]’s approval?
• do I see the hand of [insert deity] in the events of my life? The good and especially the bad ones?
• do I believe in [insert deity]’s plan and accept even the worst things that come my way?

I find this internal struggle to be deeply human, dramatic, and fascinating. It’s important to understand that the value here is not in some sort of search for ultimate “realism”, but rather in trying to bring to the table a narrative experience that is otherwise very difficult, if not impossible, to achieve. That’s why the design of Fantasy World makes a deliberate effort to offer (a pale shadow of) this kind of experience rather than a traditional power fantasy. The tools it uses for such purpose are the careful crafting and wording of the Priest moves, one of the four pillars of any FW setting, and some World mechanics that, albeit designed for broader purposes, lend themselves well for this task.

The architecture of doubt

On the one hand, the Priest wields undeniable power.

Some of it is of a social nature, as the Priest is part of an official religious cult, a church with followers, resources, dogmas, allies, enemies, etc. Additionally, the charm and allure of rituals and traditions grant to the officiant a degree of personal clout and authority. But then the Priest’s power is also supernatural, allowing them to work miracles and perform prodigious acts. The catch is that magic exists already in the world. It doesn’t take a “god” to cough up a spell-like effect. Are the Priest’s powers emanating from their deity, or from within, or from some other arcane source? The game does not say, it is a point left open to interpretation and debate. Miracles? Eh, not a definitive proof of anything.

Another important detail is that no Move ever brings into play the deity in a direct and unambiguous way. 

The deity never “speaks”.

The deity never “acts”.

The deity never “judges”.

At every opportunity the text turns the question back towards the Priest: what do you think? what do you believe? how do you feel? The Priest has to actively look for signs, patterns, meaning in the events happening around them. Let’s look at a few example moves...

Signs and Portents is at the core of the Priest class, literally asking the Player to find their divinity’s touch in the world around them. The World player is not telling anything to the Priest, there is no external voice whispering at the Priest's ear. The PC interprets reality through the eyes of a believer, and the World takes special note of that. It also grants Expedience points, which will fuel other moves, creating a positive game loop.

Anathema is another perfect example. The Priest wields real power, supernatural and destructive, obvious and tangible... but using such violence will often put the PC in front of a mirror. Is this their god’s will? Or are they harbouring doubt in their heart? Can they see why their actions are good/bad? Or do they hear only silence? And if so, what does this mean for their faith?

By God Anointed offers protection to those who pray to the Priest’s god but the actual effects, although real and concrete, will often look like a fortuitous coincidence and only sometimes they will look like divine intervention. Again the text never states that something IS divine, just that IT LOOKS LIKE something that COULD be construed as providence or an intelligent plan. Mechanically it makes no difference, but the play experience is influenced by the lack of "official confirmation".

Guidance makes the Player reflect on their Priest’s fears, asking them to formulate by themselves a way forward. It also offers a hefty reward in exchange for bringing personal spiritual drama to the table. And yes, it also allows them to get genuine guidance from outside but, given the context established by the rest of this move (and by all the other moves), it should not feel the same as it would in a more power-fantasy-oriented game. It's more of a reminder that, at any point in the game, if a Player is at a loss for words they could and should ask other Players for suggestions and help.

Behind the Curtain

Beyond the specific list of Priest moves, another one of the elements contributing to the effectiveness of this design is the “Gods are silent” pillar of all FW settings. This concept is explained both at the beginning of the manuale and then, more extensively and practically, in the Priest’s class introduction. There, both Players and World are told what to expect from the game, and how to achieve it in very practical terms. One such trick is to create an asymmetrical approach to the fiction:

• on one side the Priest believes, or wants to believe, but can never know for sure
• on the other side the World knows that, mechanically, there are no gods while, narratively, no one can ever know for sure

This trains the World to always be “neutral” (religiously speaking) in what they do. Any event, any description, any NPC action and decision, they are all plausible in and of themselves without ever being an obvious and definitive proof of anything. But, being also fruit of the World’s mind, such elements can be toyed with to produce feats of dramatic coordination that look just like an intelligent design, a destiny, a message, an invisible pattern.

Hourglasses based on the Priest’s descriptions, the signs and portents they see, the details they seem to give attention to, etc are a great tool to build the semblance of meaning around something that initially had none.

Agents also help in fabricating meaning, especially through the chain of principles and mechanics that starts with the idea that Everything is an Agent and then continues stipulating that Every Agent is People and finally outlines how to Portray Simple People. Simply put, handling places and items as if they had personality and motivations makes it very easy to ascribe special meaning to them, thus fuelling the pattern recognition mechanism at the core of the Signs and Portents move, and of the Priest’s search for faith and belief in general.

Good intentions

I am aware that this design could be seen as a harsh criticism of religion, where the “believer” is a person hallucinating a divine imaginary friend. But this is only one way to look at it, and it is definitely not my intention. I am sorry if the way I convey my ideas is not adequate to touch this subject with the care and diplomacy it deserves.

Instead I hope to make clear that this design is not an attack, but rather a tool to evoke at the table a specific feeling and play experience. My aim is to help Players play a deep and multifaceted character, with a vibrant relationship with the things they believe in. Not a passive follower, not a brazen “religious wizard”, but a person of genuine faith, a person that can get great strength and hope from their beliefs but has to daily choose them over doubt and despair.

By questioning and obfuscating the very existence of whatever gods might be present in the (implied and emergent) Fantasy World game setting I hope to actually give them back the aura of awe and mysticism that many “squabbling immortals” from other games have (to my eyes) irremediably lost.