Powers of the Aramitama

What, then, are the powers of the aramitama? Once again, I would like to have four, because human beings like symmetry, and it also makes things a bit easier to remember.

The aramitama is concerned with change, disrupting the way that things are. As discussed in the last post, something counts as a change if the kami thinks that it disrupts the way things normally are.

The first power is inspiration. Wisdom is about the way things are, while inspiration is about the way things could be, but are not. It could be artistic or creative inspiration, but it equally covers political inspiration, or new ideas for ways to organise your own life. Inspiration is about new ideas, but they do not have to be absolutely new. They just have to be ideas that change the current situation. The idea that women should be equal to men could have been suggested thousands of times by aramitama throughout history, because it has always been a change. (These days, some kami may think that it falls under their nigimitama. Probably mostly male kami.)

The second power is destruction. Destroying something in a situation changes that situation. This power is the one most often regarded negatively, and it often causes genuinely negative effects. An earthquake or typhoon would fall under destruction, as would a plague. However, destruction could also remove hatred or prejudice, or a disease that had become normal.

The third power is creation. Adding something new to a situation changes it just as surely as removing something. This brings up a point in which the game will differ from normal Shinto practice. In the game, if you want a baby, you have to ask the aramitama, because a new baby is a change. Once a woman is pregnant, she should ask the nigimitama for a safe pregnancy and childbirth, because the situation then falls under protection and prosperity, but a woman who is not pregnant and wants to be should ask the aramitama. The same applies to requests for a good relationship; it is something new, so it is under the purview of the aramitama. Improving an existing relationship, on the other hand, falls under prosperity.

The final power of the aramitama is transformation. Something in the situation changes. This is different from a combination of destruction and creation. When a kami uses destruction followed by creation, something is destroyed, and then something new is added. Transformation, on the other hand, changes something that already existed in the situation. Killing a man and then creating a baby girl is obviously not the same as changing a man into a woman. The first is creation followed by destruction; the second is transformation. Some cases, however, are not so clear. Consider changing a relationship of hatred into one of friendship. Is that a transformation of a single relationship, or the destruction of the hatred and the creation of the friendship? For game purposes, a change is transformation by default, with destruction or creation being used when transformation is clearly not a useful description of what happens, so the relationship change would be transformation. If this ruling makes transformation too useful, I will revise it, but that is a matter for playtest.

As with the powers of the nigimitama, I think that these will be numbers of dice to keep. So, the nigimitama has the powers of wisdom, healing, protection, and prosperity, while the aramitama has the powers of inspiration, destruction, creation, and transformation. If these provide dice to keep, what provides the dice to roll? That is the topic of the next post.

Powers of the Nigimitama

When we come to define the game-mechanical powers that fall under each of the mitama, we are moving firmly beyond anything established in Shinto theology or legend, and into the purview of game design. The powers here are designed to allow kami in the game to do the things that kami do in legend, but they have no specific basis in those legends. I am making stuff up.

As discussed in the previous post, the nigimitama favours the status quo, and wants to keep things the way they are. This could be a single power, but I’d like kami to be more distinct than that, so I will split it into four separate powers.

The first is wisdom. This means understanding the way that things are, and allows the kami to both comprehend things for herself, and to grant knowledge to people who ask for it. The second is healing. This does cover curing diseases and injuries, but it is more general. It is the ability to restore the status quo when it has been damaged, so it would cover repairing items and relationships as well as simply medical issues. The third is protection. Protection stops the status quo from changing, primarily by resisting outside influences, but also by restricting internal changes. The final power is prosperity. Prosperity is growth and development within the constraints of the status quo. Becoming a better baseball player as you practice is a form of prosperity, but so is a good harvest, or a good year of sales from a business. Starting a new business is not, however, covered by prosperity, because that changes the status quo.

Each of these four powers is a separate game statistic for the kami. Specifically, I think that it will be a number of dice to keep, but I will get on to that in a later post.

An obvious question here is “what is the status quo?”. Normally, this is easy to answer: it is the way that things are. However, when a kami uses healing the way things are right now is not the status quo; that is why the status quo needs to be restored. In most cases, the question is still easy. A person does not normally have a cold, and not having a cold is better, so the cold is not the status quo, and can be removed by healing. When the question gets difficult, the determining factor is what the kami thinks. Does the kami think that something is part of the normal situation in the area? This does not mean that the kami is in favour of that feature of the situation, because all kami have an aramitama as well, but it does mean that the kami accepts it as “the way things are”. That means that it is possible to move something from the purview of the aramitama to the nigimitama, or vice versa, by convincing the kami that a given situation is normal or otherwise.

A particular kami might still think, even in 2013, that it is normal for women to be subservient to men, in which case the nigimitama could use healing to remove a woman’s independent spirit. If the kami thought this was normal but bad, of course, the aramitama might bring about changes. If a different kami thought that independence was normal, then the nigimitama could restore a woman’s independent spirit through healing.

Just as with people, most kami prefer things the way they are, for the most part, which means that the kami are normally called upon to operate through the nigimitama, and generally prefer to do so. There are, of course, exceptions, and the powers of the aramitama are important to all kami. They will be the subject of the next post.

Aramitama and Nigimitama

Kami traditionally have two aspects, called the aramitama and the nigimitama. “Mitama” means spirit or soul, while “ara” means wild and violent, and “nigi” means calm and peaceful. “Aramitama” could be translated as “wild spirit”, and “nigimitama” as “calm spirit”.

As kami are often thought of as spirits, it might look as though the aramitama and nigimitama are almost separate kami. Indeed, they are sometimes treated that way. At the Naiku of Jingu in Ise, for example, there are separate jinja for the nigimitama and aramitama of Amaterasu. The main jinja enshrines her nigimitama, while Aramatsuri no Miya enshrines her aramitama. The Geku is similar; the main jinja enshrines Toyouke’s nigimitama, while Taga no Miya enshrines her aramitama. The jinja enshrining the aramitama are a few minutes’ walk from the main jinja in both cases, and Kashima Jingu, in Ibaraki Prefecture, has a similar arrangement. At Kashima, the jinja enshrining the aramitama is a few minutes’ walk into the woods behind the main jinja. The jinja can be even further apart: the nigimitama of the Sumiyoshi kami are enshrined in Sumiyoshi Taisha, in Osaka, while their aramitama are enshrined hundreds of kilometres away in Sumiyoshi Jinja in Shimonoseki, at the western tip of Honshu, the main island of Japan.

Jinja that enshrine the nigimitama and aramitama separately are, however, the exception, rather than the rule. I suspect that a large part of the reason is practicality: to enshrine them separately, you must have two jinja buildings, and space to build them, which doubles the cost of a jinja.

The nigimitama is the peaceful aspect of the kami, bringing blessings to people, while the aramitama is violent and active. Some matsuri directed at the aramitama have the goal of calming it down, and returning the kami to her nigimitama. However, sometimes violent action is necessary, and in those cases a matsuri would be directed to the aramitama. Because people do not, in general, want their lives to be violently disrupted, the nigimitama is generally more popular, and regarded as the main aspect of the kami. The aramitama is not, however, any sort of evil spirit.

I would like to make these two aspects an important part of the game, in the following way. A kami’s nigimitama favours the status quo. The nigimitama is a force for stability, but not stasis. Kami are fundamentally concerned with growth, so even the nigimitama is in favour of growth and development. However, that growth and development happens within the boundaries that are already set.

The aramitama, on the other hand, favours change. The change doesn’t have to be instant, but it goes beyond what was expected and predicted. This change disrupts the established order, makes plans impossible to carry out, and creates new options.

Most people want to avoid too much unexpected change. It is hard and stressful to deal with, even if it is ultimately good. The rulers of a country like unexpected change even less, as it almost always reduces their power. Further, many of the obvious examples of unexpected change are negative: natural disasters, plagues, deaths. This explains why the nigimitama is, and always has been, more popular. On the other hand, it is obvious that, sometimes, the aramitama’s intervention is what you want or need.

The powers of a kami will be divided between the two mitama, and the next post will look at those powers in more detail.


As we saw from Norinaga’s definition, anything awe-inspiring can be a kami. For Kannagara, kami are going to be personal entities with supernatural power, and, in most cases, they will be spirits. This is partly because most kami are thought of this way in Shinto practice, and also because it works well for the game. Mount Fuji as a kami would not be easy to introduce into play, and it is hard to see how you could interact with it, other than by climbing it. Konohananosakuyabime, the spirit of Mount Fuji, is a different matter.

Personae can form relationships with kami, and that will be an important part of the game. Kami, like people, are all different, and have their own interests and quirks. A kami’s power is particularly potent in her areas of interest, but that does not mean that a kami has no power in other areas. A kami is not the kami “of” something, but is most often asked for help in the areas for which she is well known. For example, Tenjin is well known for granting success in examinations, so he is often petitioned for exactly that, but he is also associated with poetry. The Sumiyoshi kami are also associated with poetry, and with travel. The association can also be specific to a particular jinja; Benzaiten is generally associated with the arts, but there are particular jinja where she is also associated with wealth — not something typically associated with art.

This particularity is important. Even when a jinja enshrines one of the popular kami, the kami of that shrine is not entirely the same as the kami at other jinja. She is not completely different, either, and as Shinto is not given to abstruse theological speculations I don’t believe that the details have ever been worked out. In fact, a kami may be both the same kami and a completely different kami. Inari jinja all enshrine Inari, one of the most popular kami, but the named kami venerated as Inari varies from jinja to jinja. This is also true of Hachiman, who is typically a group of three kami: Hondawake, Okinagatarashihime, and Tamayorihime, but the third kami often changes, and the second one is not completely constant. In addition, a lot of jinja enshrine a purely local kami, often associated with a natural feature, rather than one of the famous kami. This gives us a lot of freedom to define the kami of a jinja for the game.

Even when the kami of a jinja is not a purely local kami, she takes a particular interest in that shrine and the surrounding area. That is why jinja have ujiko; they are the people who live in the area in which the kami is particularly interested. Sūkeisha do not live in that area, so while they might have a good personal relationship with the kami, the kami is not that concerned about where they live.

Kami are normally portrayed as having their own personality, and they are approachable. They are still, necessarily, awe-inspiring, but they are not perfect, all-powerful, or all-knowing. They have personal preferences, such as for kinds of mikë, and personal styles. Indeed, as I noted earlier, personae can become kami, and they do not lose their personality when that happens.

The rules for the personality of a kami will be the same as the rules for the personality of any other character, in order to keep the game as consistent as possible. Different rules are needed for the awe-inspiring, supernatural aspects of the kami, and those are the rules that will be most important early in the saga, when personae are first getting to know their local kami. They are, therefore, the rules I will look at first.


A persona who becomes a kannagi can see the supernatural at any time and in any place. The other option, kamikakushi, lets anyone see the supernatural, but only sometimes, and only in particular places. “Kamikakushi” means “hidden by the kami”, and could be translated “Spirited Away”. Indeed, the Japanese title of the Miyazaki anime called “Spirited Away” in English is “Sen to Chihiro no Kamikakushi”: “Sen and Chihiro’s Kamikakushi”.

In kamikakushi, a kami takes a number of people out of the mundane world, and into a separate world inhabited by the kami. In this world, any human being can see kami and communicate with them directly, and the kami can, and do, use obviously supernatural abilities.

Only kami can initiate kamikakushi, at least to start with, and it takes a significant amount of effort. The more people a kami tries to spirit away at once, the more effort it takes, so small groups are more common. It is not normally possible for the kami to keep someone in kamikakushi indefinitely, and it is not possible to take anything from kamikakushi to the mundane world that didn’t get there from the mundane world first. Time normally passes more quickly in kamikakushi than in the mundane world, so that even someone taken for a long time is only missing for a matter of days, at most. This, of course, makes it very hard to convince anyone else of what happened.

In addition, there are many kamikakushi, all of them different. Most of them look superficially like Japan at different periods of history, from primeval woodland to the present day, but the inhabitants and events of each world are different. This means that the accounts of people who have been spirited away do not agree.

The first session of a kannagara game, then, would typically involve kamikakushi, to get the players involved in the supernatural side of the setting, and give them a chance to talk directly to the kami of their jinja. After that, the personae can only return to kamikakushi if they can give the kami enough strength to take them, and convince him that it is a good idea. These goals play into the themes of Kannagara.

Kamikakushi also provides an opportunity to have pseudo-historical game sessions, when the personae visit a kamikakushi that resembles a period of Japanese history. The kamikakushi is not actually Japan in that historical period, so not all details are the same, but the overall culture and atmosphere is preserved. This is important, because it allows people to run game sessions without doing an inordinate amount of research.

Not all game sessions take place in kamikakushi, so gaming groups must choose how often they go there. If it is very rare, the game will feel more mundane, but the wonder of kamikakushi will be easier to preserve. If it is very common, there will be more supernatural events, but they will become commonplace. At the moment, I think the default will be that kamikakushi is rare to begin with, but becomes more common as the story progresses. Once the characters have become kannagi they can, of course, see the supernatural in the mundane world as well, and this may well make it easier to enter kamikakushi.

Kamikakushi may be linked to one another, and may also be linked to the actual past, as opposed to supernatural re-creations thereof. That, however, is something for the future development of the game. Initially, each kamikakushi will be self-contained, and fairly small. Links to other kamikakushi, other places, and other times can be discovered or created in play.


A fundamental problem faced by all “modern world with the supernatural” games is how to account for the fact that there is no clear evidence of the supernatural in a world where it definitely exists. That is, for the game world to look like the modern world, there must be no clear evidence for the supernatural generally available, as that is what the modern world is like. However, the supernatural does exist in the game world, so one would expect there to be evidence. This is a problem. Some games just handwave it, while others create justifications that work as long as you don’t look at them too closely, and as long as the players are not involved. Kannagara will fall into the second category.

The supernatural creatures in Kannagara are limited in that they cannot do anything that is obviously supernatural where a human being can observe it. This is not a rule or social convention; supernatural abilities fail to function if a human being is watching. Supernatural creatures can appear as humans or animals and tell people (if they appear human) that they are really kitsune or kami, but they cannot, in general, do anything to directly prove it. They can also intervene in human affairs through their powers, but only in ways that do not necessarily appear to be supernatural. Believers believe, but they cannot provide convincing evidence to sceptics.

There are two exceptions to this rule. The first is people who are also kannagi. “Kannagi” (巫) is the old Japanese word for a medium, someone who communicates directly with the kami, and “miko” is written in Japanese with the characters for “female kannagi” (巫女). In game terms, a kannagi does not count as an observing human being; kami and other supernatural creatures can do clearly supernatural things where a kannagi can see. Kannagi do not have any other supernatural abilities, but this one makes a big difference.

For example, not all kami can take on human forms that appear mundane. In order to communicate with a human being, they must use supernatural abilities. This means that they can only clearly communicate with kannagi, although they might be able to send dreams to other people. If the kami use a form of telepathy, so that only the kannagi can hear what they are saying, they can communicate with the kannagi while there are other people present, and the kannagi can pass along what the kami has to say. As far as the other observers are concerned, the kannagi is speaking; it is up to them whether they believe that she is passing along the words of the kami.

While communication is one of the major benefits, kami can also use supernatural abilities to both help and harm a kannagi directly, which opens up more possibilities for a kannagi persona. If she has a good relationship with a kami, she can use supernatural abilities by proxy.

Personae do not normally start as kannagi, and the idea is that the game can be played indefinitely without any kannagi among the personae. Such personae communicate with kami through traditional divination or dreams, building relationships indirectly. However, the assumption is that most personae become kannagi sooner or later, as this makes the game more directly supernatural, and introduces new elements of play. One thing that needs to be determined in development is the default length of play at the pre-kannagi stage. This is something that a group can easily change; indeed, they could decide to start with kannagi personae. However, the rules will make a certain length of time natural, requiring house rules or determined effort in play to spend a significantly shorter or longer time as normal humans.

There is, however, a problem with this. If the personae cannot see anything supernatural to start with, the first sessions of Kannagara will not properly set the tone of the game: they will be much more mundane than the game is supposed to be. The second exception to the rule against seeing the supernatural is designed to cope with this issue.

Persona Transformation

I mentioned early on that, as far as logically possible, all persona options will be open to all personae at all times in Kannagara. That means that a persona who starts as a male human can become a female human, or a male kami, or a yuki-onna (snow maiden). It may be more difficult for a persona who starts with no blood relationship to any shinshoku to become the scion of line going back centuries, but changing the past is something that might come into the game at some point. At first, however, the “logically possible” limit is that personae cannot change their established past. They can certainly discover things about their past, and even discover that they were mistaken about their past, but the past itself cannot be changed.

That still leaves a wide range open. How does a male human become a snow maiden? Magic is obviously part of the answer, and will also be part of the answer as to how a male human becomes a female human, or an old human becomes a young one.

These transformations will not be easy, because I want a setting in which most people do not go through them. I want a setting, in fact, that looks, on the surface, like present-day Japan, and in present-day Japan men do not often change into women, or vice versa, much less into foxes. However, part of what makes the transformations rare will be that most people have no idea that they are possible, much less what to do to achieve them, and personae, of course, will learn that in the course of play.

Fundamentally, a transformation will be a kind of creation. The rules will be the same as those for creating a poem, or a table. The transformation may require high abilities, and will always require access to certain elements. Without those elements, the persona simply does not know how to achieve the transformation. The quest for the elements necessary to achieve a desired transformation is an obvious source of stories, requiring investigation and the solution of mysteries. Some transformations will also require other creations, as part of the process of transformation, and those creations also inspire stories. A transformation could also require the persona to form particular relationships.

Transformation will always be self-driven. That is, the kami cannot transform a human being into a kitsune, although they might be able to temporarily turn a person into a fox, under certain conditions. Other personae may help a persona with her transformation, and in some (maybe most) cases it will be necessary to get help, but the persona who will be transformed must be an active participant, and the driving force, if the transformation is to succeed.

Some transformations may have other transformations as prerequisites. For example, it may be impossible for a male human to transform directly into a yuki-onna. First, he must become a female human, and then he can undergo further transformation. I think I will want to make it impossible to reach “kami” quickly, as a matter of narrative pacing as much as anything else. That is, a human will probably have to pass through at least two other states before becoming a kami. You can make a case for this based on historical Shinto belief, but really this would be a modification to make things work better in a game.

In fact, at the moment I plan to have one transformation, from ordinary human to kannagi, be the prerequisite for all transformations. That will be the topic for the next post.

Teachers and Students

In Kannagara, teaching is an important part of the game. It is a way for personae to develop, and a way for personae to help characters to develop. In addition, the relationship between teacher and student is an important one, and relationships between people are another important feature of the game. That means that Kannagara needs good rules for teaching.

There are two ways that a persona can be involved in teaching: as the teacher, and as the student. In theory, we could use the same rules for both, but at the moment I would prefer not to. Having someone keep track of experience points for all characters is likely to be too big a burden, and characters cannot use the same advancement rules as personae anyway, as they do not have much opportunity to do things that are important to the personae’s narrative. So, at least to start with, I will create different rules for the two situations, and in this post I want to consider what happens when the persona is the student.

First, a teacher is a source of study, and as such has the same statistics as a book: experience point bonuses, elements he can teach, details of content, and features. However, a teacher is also a human being, and so the persona should be building a relationship with her teacher.

This could, of course, be a central part of the story, involving all the personae. The rules for the effects of building a relationship should certainly allow for that possibility. However, the default assumption has to be that the relationship with the teacher is part of the background of a single persona, and that while she might build a good relationship with her teacher, the other personae might know him as little more than a name.

This can work in two ways. First, the group could organise one-on-one sessions to deal with the relationship between the persona and her teacher. For certain groups, this might be a very useful option, while for others it might be incredibly disruptive. Therefore, this needs to be clearly possible, but also very clearly optional.

The other alternative is to have building the relationship be part of the persona’s downtime activities, but with an influence on play. For example, the persona discovers that, in order to improve her relationship with her teacher, she must do something, or learn something, and then that becomes an individual goal for that persona, one that she tries to achieve during the story. In general, there need be no secret about why she is trying to achieve something, nor need she do it alone. Indeed, it is often better if she is open and gets help, because that makes her teacher an important part of the background for everyone.

This is, you may have noticed, still very vague. This is because I have not yet discussed the rules for building and improving relationships, so I do not yet know what kind of rules go into this framework. Those rules are due for discussion soon, but there is one last point about advancement to consider first. In Kannagara, personae do not just become better at what they do, they can also completely transform themselves. How does that work?

Knowledge Advancement

Knowledges do not get better as you use them. Remembering what you know about Japanese mythology does not teach you more about Japanese mythology. Knowledges improve when you read books or attend lectures. Some knowledges can also improve if you just sit quietly and think about them, putting information you already have together and drawing new conclusions. Personae should be encouraged to pursue these kinds of activities.

The problem is that they are not obviously exciting to play out. “I sit in a comfy chair in a nice warm room, with a cup of coffee, and read a book for a couple of hours.” There is no conflict, no interaction, and nothing more to say. Certainly, the GM should not offer a lecture on the contents of the book. The same problem applies to practising a skill. “I sit in a comfy chair in a nice warm room, with a cup of coffee, and write norito for a couple of hours.”

So, the question is how to incorporate these activities into the game.

The first step is to award experience points if the player says that her persona is doing such things. Even at this level, the activity becomes a part of the game, as it is something that the persona does. It takes time, and so the persona should not get experience points immediately, but this is also a good thing. It establishes an ongoing task in the persona’s background, and that helps to flesh out the world.

This is not really enough, however. The next step is to define sources of experience, such as books or practice exercises. The personae gain access to these sources in play, and a source either grants bonus experience points, or access to an element. Realistically, sources should have a level, and grant more experience points the closer the persona’s current ability is to that level, but that might be too much book-keeping.

At this point, sources of study would have about the same level of detail as they do in Ars Magica. Years of experience have shown that this is a reasonable level of detail, and does make study quite important in the game. However, I would like to make it even more important in Kannagara.

One possibility is to define the subject of a source of study in some detail, and grant a bonus experience point if a persona, in the course of play, connects that subject explicitly to events that are important in the narrative. “I read about it in Hogwarts: A History” would be the simplest possible form (although not that exactly, of course), but it should be possible to do it a little more elaborately. In effect, this would allow a persona to gain experience points for using knowledges, as long as the player explicitly tied the use of the knowledge to whatever the persona was currently studying. This might work best if invoking the study allows the player to claim experience as if the roll were for a skill: one point on any failure, and a point on success if the difficulty is greater than four times the number of dice kept.

Another possibility is to give the source of study specific features, which could be as simple as a physical description of a book, or of an exercise, and give the player bonus dice to roll if she makes those features important to the narrative. That is, she uses the features to make the fact that the persona is studying from this source into part of the story.

This may be enough to add to the Ars Magica model. Study should be an important part of characters’ lives in Kannagara, but it should not dominate. However, there is still one important source of study that we have not considered: teachers.

Skill Advancement

Personae in roleplaying games have advanced, become better at what they do, since the hobby began. There is room for debate over whether this is necessary for roleplaying in general, but as one of the main themes of Kannagara is personal development, it is clearly necessary for this game. Indeed, advancement should be rather fast, because players should feel that their personae are developing.

Because development is one of the themes of the game, development should happen in play. This means that skills and knowledges must be handled differently, because personae do different things to improve them. Basically, one improves a skill by using it, but one improves a knowledge by studying.

This makes skill improvement easier to handle. The improvement process involves the persona doing things with the skill, and “doing things with skills” is what we play out in the game. So, the first point is that using a skill in the game will improve that skill. People learn from their mistakes as much as their successes, but do not learn much from succeeding at things that are easy for them. Failing at something that should be easy for you can be a great learning experience, of course, and you can learn a lot from both success and failure at a difficult task.

This is a place where the precise numbers will be determined by playtest, but as a first pass a persona gets an experience point when she attempts an important task with a difficulty that is greater than four times the number of dice she gets to keep. It does not matter whether she succeeds or fails. The chance of getting greater than 4 with one die is one in three, while the chance of getting 9 or greater on two dice is less than a quarter, so these are tasks at which failure is likely. Of course, the number of dice being rolled will also affect this probability, so personae with high knowledge scores might well advance while succeeding, but that is not necessarily a problem; as mentioned above, advancement should probably be fast.

Similarly, a persona gains an experience point if she fails an important task with a difficulty that is less than or equal to four times the number of dice she gets to keep. Succeeding at this level does not teach much, but failure certainly can. To put this another way, a persona gets an experience point whenever she fails at a task, and when she succeeds at a task with a difficulty greater than four times the number of dice she gets to keep.

Experience points go with a particular skill, and when a persona has a certain number of experience points, the skill increases by one die. I think I want to use a flat number of experience points per increase, so that it might always cost 10 experience points to raise a skill by one die, whether the persona has a skill of 1 or a skill of 10. However, the actual number involved will have to be decided as the game is developed and playtested. It might even be something that players are invited to change, to set an advancement speed that their group likes.

I noted above that these rules apply to “important tasks”. That means a task that is part of the narrative of the game. Players cannot just have the characters go off and fail consistently at hard tasks in order to acquire lots and lots of experience points. However, it is obvious that personae can go off and practise their skills in downtime, and that they should improve if they do that. This is a mode of improvement that also applies to knowledges, and so I would like to discuss it in its own post.