andypressman

low stakes, high jinx

Books, interfaces, games


Imagine a ttrpg with total information presented to the players, a la Into the Breach, Slay the Spire, etc. Instead of approaching challenges by stating intent and then rolling to determine outcome, the GM (?) rolls to determine outcome and the players are given opportunities to resist, plan, subvert, etc.

Would this be only for combat? If so, why not just scratch that itch playing a video game, where the complex information provided is easier to understand and consider? If not, would it remove all agency from the players? That… doesn't sound like much fun.

Maybe it's more interesting to think of as something without tactics at all, where the outcome is pre-determined (by, say, rolling one dice for tone and another for event) and the "game" lies in creatively interpreting and resisting the outcome.

For instance:

  • Ori and Momar are on a stolen spaceship, fleeing a heist gone wrong. A hunter mech in pursuit catches up and begins clawing its way into their ship.
  • The GM rolls tone and event dice and determines that the tone is 'resourceful' and event is 'explosive'
  • Ori's player decides that Ori will use the ship's inertia to their advantage by 'floating' an object just next to the hunter mech, and then slamming the brakes on the spaceship, causing an explosive collision

Reading this over it sounds more like GM-less games — Ironsworn, for example, where the "Oracle" is used to determine story beats. And maybe this version would be best suited for a fun romp, since outright failure would be difficult.

Which offers a topic for another post: how to get players to crave fun failure?


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in reply to @andypressman's post:

I think as soon as you make it so that failure happens only when the players have decided that failure will be fun... then they will crave it more. If you're spending most of your time pushing back & trying to succeed, then that attitude is going to inflect all your times. If it's clear that failure only happens when you choose it to, then suddenly failing becomes a juicy bit of the design space to explore - even as a player.

Or, talking about total information: imagine playing a TTRPG based on Macbeth. The plot beats are known ahead of time (people know what happens in Macbeth). And even inside the play itself, we know what's going to happen. It is foretold by some spooky witches. But at the same time, enacting Macbeth is exciting. Making the moment to moment decisions about how the characters play out their scenes can be exciting & emotionally powerful. There's even a little bit of flex in terms of outcomes - not about where the plot is going, but about the emotional tone of how you get there, about what meaning is drawn from it.

(sounds like the kind of thing that would be real hard to do in a videogame, and fun to do at a table)

I'm trying to think of a videogame where failure empowered the player. I guess that's the central premise of most modern roguelikes? And in tabletop games there's a lot of "fail forward" design, that usually leads to more complications upon failure, rather than action stalling out.

But both are distinct from the idea of failure only happening when you choose it, which really is the juicy bit. Presumably as a player I'd choose to fail if A) it benefits me mechanically, or B) it benefits the story. As a GM I'm mostly interested in the latter… but maybe I'm just being precious about the distinction, since A) would presumably lead to B).

i know when i was playing Botanicula i would try to figure out the correct solution so that i could do it last - i wanted to see the cute animations that would play out from all the failure states before moving on. ironically, maybe that wraps around so far that it stops being failure...

but yeah, i guess i would say that A & B are pretty distinct, and kind of pull in different directions. but if you take away the mechanics enough, then anyone who is still left playing is gonna be there for the story... at which point you can then do some really fun things, because you have skipped the hard part (gently guiding people towards embracing failure)