Honestly, though, they're fun, right? Chucking a hunk of plastic, reading it off like some oracle or auger is fun.
Say, Colin, you're not about to do that thing where you say there's no wrong way to roll dice and then say 'ha ha but there is and you're doing it wrong ha ha', are you? Are you about to do that thing? Don't worry, there's not wrong way to roll the dice.
Don't Do That Thing
But you're rolling dice wrong.
Goddammit Colin
I'm not talking about the physical act of rolling dice, so relax. Though honestly if you're constantly having to crawl under the table in search of a wayward flung die maybe you are doing that incorrectly.
What I mean is that a lot of GMs don't apply enough scrutiny over when and why they or their players are rolling dice for a check. It is such a tactile thrill that, perhaps, the kind of restraint I'm going to propose is anathema. Maybe at the end of the day I'm the heretic. We'll see how convincing I am.
What Am I Doing Wrong With My Dice?
Possibly nothing. But let me outline a couple scenarios I've seen in actual play at the table, as well as iterated about online.
- The GM has a player roll iterative tests until they fail; a Rogue has to roll a Stealth check every thirty feet, or for each guard they attempt to pass during an infiltration.
- The GM has a player roll an "impossible" test but the player succeeds; a player wants to seduce a dragon, a player wants to convince the king to give up his crown, a player wants the lich to give up lichdom and become an alpaca salesman.
- The GM fails to arbitrate a roll's results; a player has to roll to see if their character knows some exceedingly common information, a player passes a Perception check but does not see anything because nothing is there, a player rolls a check without consulting the GM
If any of these have come up in your own game, it may be that your GM--even momentarily--lost track of when rolling the dice is meaningful.
That's the purpose of this article. I want to help you figure out how to make each roll of the dice meaningful.
But When Even Is Meaningful?
Most RPG books will mention that you roll dice in order to Do Things. That's technically true. More than technically, it is also actually true. But it isn't comprehensively true. I'll get to the point.
There are three good benchmarks for when you should be rolling dice or calling for your players to roll a check.
- When failure or success is not certain
- When failure or success is interesting
- When degree matters
If one or several of those apply, roll a die. Or several. Or consult whatever RNG the game uses to resolve tasks.
Can You Give Some Examples?
My pleasure, disembodied anthropomorphic rhetorical device!
GM Jackson Pollock has a player who wishes to have translated the ancient Elvish runes they found in the previous dungeon. Though none of the party know Elvish, the city of Fallcrest has a large enough population of Elves where it is more or less inevitable that someone will be able to translate the runes. Moreover, GM Jackson Pollock sees nothing particularly interesting in the group failing to find the translation-- in fact, he thinks that getting the runes translated will ultimately take the group in an interesting direction. GM Jackson Pollock decides not to call for a roll and merely narrates the process of finding a translator.
Now if the Elvish community of Fallcrest were xenophobic or particularly protective of their culture then the outcome of finding a translator might be uncertain-- a failed roll might also provide interesting complications. If that is the case, GM Jackson Pollock should probably call for a roll of some kind.
GM Eva Mendes has a player who wishes to craft a relatively simple item during the group's time between adventures. GM Eva Mendes considers that, given time, it is assured that the character will eventually be able to craft the item. Moreover, the consequence of failure is simply that the character is out a bit of pocket-change for crafting materials which GM Eva Mendes doesn't find particularly interesting. GM Eva Mendes calls for a roll, however, because she decides that the quality of craftsmanship matters (especially since the player wants to parade said item around as a point of pride). GM Eva Mendes asks for a roll to determine not whether the item is crafted, but how well it is crafted.
Were the item of more complexity or importance--a magical relic or new technology--then GM Eva Mendes might ask the player to roll to see whether they craft it or not. A botched attempt to create a magical item might have interesting consequences--perhaps a magical curse prompting the group to some new adventure.
Why Are You Still Here, Colin?
Because I'm not done. All I've done is provide guidance on when to roll dice not how to make your dice rolling more meaningful. I've got more. Well, I don't have more. Someone else has more. That someone else is named Luke Crane and he wrote an RPG system called The Burning Wheel whose later implementation in Mouseguard won the 2009 Origin Awards.
I won't get into the specific merits of The Burning Wheel's rules or execution-- I only want to point out one neat nugget that the game has: Intents and Stakes.
In The Burning Wheel a player explicitly outlines their intention before they touch a die, saying what it is he or she hopes to accomplish and thereby contextualizing things. Using that template, a player never rolls a generic skill check or blindly "rolls Perception" as I've seen happen at my own table.
The context a player provides is important for a GM because it gives a clear vector of response. That's the Stake. The consequence should match the intention of the roll. That's stupidly simple once you drill into it, but I've seen enough disconnect enough times at the table where maybe it needs outlining.
And note that I just typed consequence, not 'consequence of failure'. The Stakes tell a player what to expect both from a failure and a success.
The player states their intent ("I want to get into the castle") and the GM states the Stakes ("if you fail, you'll get caught by a guard, otherwise you are undetected"). Both of these can be tinkered with so that the roll of the die reflects what both player and GM want. The player may want to get into a specific room, the GM may decide that one roll is simply too few for such a complicated infiltration, or the GM may decide a failure indicates that the character literally couldn't find a way in (rather than being caught red-handed). What's important is that at no point is one party unclear with the other regarding the mechanical or fictional context of the dice.
Wrap It Up For Us
RPGs are social games and it is too easy to fall into thinking that the amount of communication which goes on within them is limited to verbal social dynamics. The truth is that nearly everything done at the table is a communication of some kind which telegraphs, anticipates, or signals something to the parties involved. The roll of a die is no exception.
By using the three guidelines above regarding when to roll (outcome uncertain, consequence interesting, degree matters) a GM should be able to make each clatter of the dice meaningful. And by using The Burning Wheel's philosophy of Intent and Stakes you can be utterly transparent in that communication, sidestepping the kinds of issues which naturally crop up when there is some disconnect between GM and player.
Take a look at your game. Do you have players roll the dice more than necessary? Do you try to resolve with multiple rolls something which could be done with fewer (but more impactful) ones? Is there some way that you can tighten up the lines of communication between GM and player, especially in regards to what a roll of the die entails? And who shot J.R. Ewing?
I'm out.
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