I was watching a video on Youtube the other day talking about DnD fourth edition. The video’s creator talked about how he liked the depth of choices the game gave you, like giving you the ability to save an ally falling to their death by firing an arrow to pin them to the wall. The question that came to my mind was: couldn’t you already do that? So I’m going to talk to you about the three different ways I sort these types of abilities.

Explicit Ability

Some games really do spell out exactly what you can do. In the example I gave, 4th edition has an ability that an archer can use to save a falling teammate. If you have that ability, you can do it, and if you don’t have that ability, you can’t. This is also really common in Pathfinder and its progenitor DnD 3.5.

The upside of this for designers is that it gives you complete control over the power level of players. It stops players from exploiting the rules and forces players to make choices. For players, the fun of systems like this is the childlike glee that comes from flipping through the source book and learning about all the things you could do. It can be fun to build a character and slowly gain a laundry list of abilities.

The biggest problem with this system is the workload. Not only does it require the designer to think of and create all of the abilities for all possible combinations of players, it also requires them to test them fully, since the precisely written nature of the game demands that everything work together harmoniously. When every action has an explicit and undeniable effect on the game, any mistake throws the whole thing off course. As for players, they might not enjoy having so many things cut off for them. Players may also lose immersion if they feel as though an ability should be granted to them when the game rules say otherwise. Most importantly, though, it severely limits the amount of creativity and roleplay given to players, which can be a complete killer for some games, but appreciated in others.

Reflavor Abilities

For those who don’t know, “flavor” is a term some use to describe what happens in a game that isn’t purely mechanical, also known as “theming.” Some games encourage players to add their own flavor to an ability. For example, Magic Missile fires magic blasts at opponents, but whether they take the form of lightning bolts, waves of force, or giant glowing fists (or anything else) is up to the caster. No matter what is chosen, though, the in-game effects of it are the same. To use the original example of a falling player, the game could give a player a chance to let another player reroll a die, and after the die was rerolled and became successful, the archer player could say that they pinned their ally to the wall.

This is a really nice way for designers to focus on mechanics without having to worry too much about breadth. Players will be able to do what they want so long as they can comfortably interpret the abilities, and you, the designer, don’t have to make a different ability for every circumstance. Players also enjoy this system since it let’s them go wild with customization, but doesn’t break anything. They can always find a way to do what they want and, even if it doesn’t quite match up thematically, it can at least feel like it sometimes.

Occasionally, this can leave players feeling like they don’t have many options. If you want to shoot lightning bolts AND glowing fists, you’ll have to use the same spell for it. It also leaves designers in a spot where every ability has to be truly unique. You can’t change a minor aspect of an ability and call it something new, since many players have probably already don it.

Freeform Abilities

And here’s where we reach the extreme. If a player wants to do something, then they do it. If you are an archer and you see someone falling, you tell your DM you are going to shoot an arrow to catch them, and the DM decides what to do about it. This sort of thing usually exists alongside other systems, though some smaller games are solely freeform experiences.

The nice part for the designer is that they sort of don’t have to do anything past the basic game. So long as you tell players that they’re allowed to do anything, they’ll do it. Players will love the freedom, and many consider this to be the ultimate role-playing experience.

Sadly, this sort of system can break RPGs. Once you allow a player to do anything, the players might stop playing the game and just start gaming the system. Some players enjoy it but most, especially DMs, will get frustrated at having to either surrender to or deny the increasingly ludicrous ideas. It is a hazardous situation for all involved.

Evaluation

None of these are the best option. Different players enjoy different things; it’s just important for you to know what you’re getting in to whenever you have to make this decision as a designer. Do you value control, balance, and fairness; or do you value creativity, self-expression, and indiviuality? Or, maybe a bit of both. It’s up to you!