The Cost of Withholding the Odds

When I run a role-playing game, I have a standard operating procedure when it comes to a player-character taking an action that requires a roll. Before the player commits to the action, I will offer an accurate estimate of its difficulty: easy, moderate, hard, etc. Once the player commits, I reveal the actual numerical difficulty or armor class. As I see it, once the risk is undertaken, the odds are revealed. There is no point in punishing the player in the name of immersion. I contend that not revealing the odds is a violation of verisimilitude. Once you attempt something, you can usually gauge your chance of success with a reasonable amount of accuracy simply by being aware of your own capabilities and the challenges you face in the moment. Furthermore, if you withhold the odds, you are withholding knowledge of the character's environment that a player-character needs in order to make meaningful decisions. It is frankly an infringement of player agency, and that, as far as I am concerned, is a breach of the role-playing social contract.

Withholding the odds can be even more consequential if a role-playing game employs a meta-currency such as luck. Why would anyone be motivated to use a scarce resource without knowing the odds? It makes game play less meaningful and, in my experience, less enjoyable. It makes more sense not to engage with that aspect of the rules at all, especially if the resource is rarely, if ever, replenished. But where is the fun in that?

The person running the game already has a vast informational advantage. In the name of good sportsmanship, at least let the players know what their chances are.

Everybody Rolls When They Come to My House

Who rolls the dice at your table? Does the Dungeon Master make all damage rolls per the Dungeons & Dragons Basic Set of 1981? Does the GM make all rolls per the HarmonQuest interpretation of Pathfinder? Does the GM make no combat rolls per The Black Hack? Apart from the role-playing games that actually address the question of who rolls dice and under what circumstances, different gaming groups have their own dice-rolling traditions regardless of what the rules may or may not say.

As for me, I say everybody rolls who wants to roll. Players roll for their own characters, GMs roll for the non-player characters, and everyone makes their own damage rolls. It's just the way I roll.

N.B. The title of this article is inspired by the song, "Everybody Eats When They Come to My House" by Cab Calloway.

Let the Dice Fall Where They May

Dice in any game contribute suspense. Your strategy may appear flawless, but dice represent the fickle finger of Fate that tends to poke you in the eye just when victory is in sight. On the other hand, it can also point the way to safety just when you think all hope is lost. In a role-playing game, dice are the element of chance that is the great equalizer between the GM and the players. For the GM, dice are both a limitation and a liberation. The GM already bears the burden of describing a world and all the inhabitants the players encounter. When the dice are rolled, however, there is no such burden except to describe the results. Here is where the GM gets to participate like a player, where events in the world the GM created can be influenced by an external neutral force. For those GMs who rarely get the opportunity to be players, this is where they, too, can watch events unfold from a non-omniscient point of view.

In order for this dynamic to work, it is necessary for the dice to be rolled in the open. That is to say, the dice ought to be rolled in full view of the players and the GM. Certain kinds of rolls would still be made secretly by the GM, such as a percentage chance of a certain event or encounter happening or when a player character attempts a skill for which success is not readily discernible (e.g., searching for a secret door or detecting a trap), but rolls that represent a contest between characters or a character and the environment should be visible to all participants in the situation.

One problem this alleviates is distrust by the players. If a player can see the GM's roll, he or she knows that the GM is not fudging rolls for the players' benefit or detriment. Although some GMs are suspected of fudging rolls in favor of their NPCs or monsters, I suspect many more are actually guilty of fudging rolls in favor of the players because they do not wish to be too harsh. I suspect this because I was one of those GMs in my early days in the hobby. Mollycoddling players does them no good in the long run. You may think you are helping them, but in actuality you deprive them of the true taste of victory when they succeed if you withhold the bitterness of defeat when they fail. You are also obstructing their growth as gamers.

Any given dice-rolling tradition is probably as old as any other. Some GMs roll in the open; some roll in secret; some let the players roll, but never tell them the target number; some even roll for the players, too. Different groups have different needs. My needs, both as a GM and a player, require that I get to roll dice and let them fall where they may.

[Originally posted in Fudgery.net/fudgerylog on 27 December 2011.]

[Also posted here in Creative Reckoning.]