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When the Dice Don't Tell the Whole Story

By Tyler Sigman
January 27, 2000 · 5 minute read

Roleplaying games, like many other games, rely heavily at times on chance. Chance usually takes the form of dice rolls or card draws, and it can make great heroes or great goats; it can make a character into legend or make it slide into the sands of unknown; it can paint epic battles or fumbling failures. We curse or we exclaim with joy when luck finds its way to our side, depending of course on which side it comes down.

Truth be told, chance is often what brings tension and excitement to the gaming table. If every encounter were a foregone conclusion, such as when a chess piece takes another, then there would hardly be the same draw to the game. It is the lure of the adventure that beckons us onward, the chance that our farmboy may become a great king and retire into myth. We adventure for the possibility that when the Queen comes a-knockin', our Pawn just might knock her back to her own side of the board.

Right. That being said we can focus on a subtle point: when is it time to throw chance to the wind?

There are many skills that a quality Gamemaster (GM) must master. Amongst them are the ability to set background, to keep the game flowing, to add the unexpected, to respond to the players' styles and desires, and not last nor least: the knowledge of when to "tweak" the game. By "tweak", I mean alter the game from what the dice say it must be to what the GM thinks it should be.

I, like most of you, had a superb GM once (actually, I have had the privilege of several, but that's beside the point!). His games were filled with superb background-setting and detail, and he kept the players in constant states of excitement. There were grand adventures and risks, and even greater rewards-basically it was role-playing at its highest. I will use this GM, let's call him Louis, as an example of my point. Louis knew when to ignore the dice. Louis knew that there were game situations in which, for various and changing reasons, a certain outcome was necessitated.

I know, I know--many gamers are crying out as they read this. "The dice tell the truth!" they say, and they kindly remind me in their minds of how I mentioned at the start of this article that chance begets excitement. Well, I agree with you and my own words 99.9% of the time.

I say this though: there are times to throw chance to the wind. I don't mean that as your party comes face to face with a dragon, the GM just declares you the winners/losers and hands out treasure/new characters. I mean that, with artful tweaks of the dice and an occasional event, things seem to gravitate one way or the other by themselves.

Going back to our dear friend Louis, let me illustrate. Louis' method was deft, subtle, and simple. During one campaign in particular, we had a party of very experienced characters who had been role-played roughly two-dozen times. As usual, we found ourselves in a jam (against a Balrog or something, I recall), and things were looking grim for the home team. The fight dragged on for some time, a truly heroic encounter, and towards the end all the PC's save one were incapacitated in some way. The last standing character was a tough one, but needless to say, so was the Balrog. Louis was never one to spare us a challenge, and many a character had died in his games, but we all knew the way things were looking: if this character went down, then all 5 were going to die--a sad, but heroic end to their adventuring careers. Other games had ended thus, but no one really wanted to lose these characters, either, including Louis (he had too much fun complicating their lives). The last warrior and the Balrog went toe-to-toe for a bit, both badly wounded, and it became apparent that one more hit on either side would probably do it. Up came a Balrog attack, and Louis rolled. As usual, he did it behind his GM Screen. Louis' eyes wavered for the briefest moment, and then he looked up and proclaimed a "miss". The warrior followed up with a smashing blow, slaying the mighty Balrog and catapulting the party to further fame and fortune.

The point: I am 99% sure that the Balrog hit-probably a critical hit-but good ol' Louis changed the dice roll on the fly. Most of us knew, or at least suspected. But we never asked to see the roll, and never wanted to. By changing "fate" Louis applied an artful twist to the campaign. It can be argued that he shouldn't have, and that argument cannot be refuted. However, in my years of roleplaying, I have found that the most enjoyable games of all usually break the "rules" in some way. How much, how far, and how effective this is depends on the skill of the GM. Too much rules-breakage and the game will seem contrived and tensionless. Too little, and you might lose a great campaign!

In parting, I would like to leave my humble suggestions to aspiring and current GMs:

  • ALWAYS use your screen, because it gives you the artistic ability to alter a game.
  • DO alter games when you deem they require it, be it for better or worse.
  • DON'T let your players know-it keeps them on their toes

And if the dice keep telling you something over and over, sooner or later you will have to listen despite your artistic desires.

Good luck and happy gaming!

Tyler Sigman is a veteran gamer living in western Colorado. He is the principal game designer, owner, writer, receptionist, accountant, and janitor for Mythrole Games (http://www.mythrole.com), a small board, card, adventure, role-playing, and PBEM game company. He welcomes your comments on this topic, whooping llamas, or anything else at games@mythrole.com.

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