When I am a game master, I usually steered clear of heavy use of luck during my Dungeons & Dragons games. I preferred was for story direction and session development to be guided by deliberate decisions as opposed to the roll of a die. Recently, I decided to change my approach, and I'm incredibly happy with the result.
A well-known streamed game utilizes a DM who regularly asks for "fate rolls" from the players. This involves picking a polyhedral and assigning potential outcomes contingent on the result. This is essentially no distinct from rolling on a random table, these are created on the spot when a character's decision has no predetermined conclusion.
I decided to try this approach at my own game, mainly because it appeared interesting and provided a change from my normal practice. The results were fantastic, prompting me to think deeply about the often-debated balance between planning and randomization in a roleplaying game.
In a recent session, my group had concluded a city-wide battle. Afterwards, a player wondered if two beloved NPCs—a brother and sister—had lived. In place of picking a fate, I let the dice decide. I instructed the player to make a twenty-sided die roll. The possible results were: on a 1-4, both would perish; on a 5-9, only one succumbed; a high roll, they both lived.
The player rolled a 4. This resulted in a incredibly moving moment where the party discovered the bodies of their allies, forever clasped together in their final moments. The group performed a ceremony, which was particularly meaningful due to previous character interactions. As a parting gesture, I decided that the forms were strangely restored, revealing a enchanted item. By chance, the bead's contained spell was perfectly what the group lacked to address another major situation. It's impossible to plan such serendipitous moments.
This incident led me to ponder if chance and making it up are actually the essence of tabletop RPGs. While you are a meticulously planning DM, your improvisation muscles can rust. Players reliably excel at derailing the best constructed narratives. Therefore, a skilled DM needs to be able to adapt swiftly and fabricate content on the fly.
Using luck rolls is a fantastic way to practice these skills without venturing too far outside your preparation. The trick is to use them for minor decisions that have a limited impact on the session's primary direction. To illustrate, I would avoid using it to determine if the main villain is a traitor. Instead, I would consider using it to determine whether the PCs reach a location right after a major incident unfolds.
This technique also helps maintain tension and cultivate the sensation that the story is responsive, evolving based on their choices as they play. It combats the feeling that they are merely pawns in a rigidly planned story, thereby bolstering the shared aspect of storytelling.
This philosophy has historically been part of the game's DNA. Early editions were filled with encounter generators, which suited a game focused on dungeon crawling. Although contemporary D&D frequently focuses on plot-driven play, leading many DMs to feel they require detailed plans, this isn't always the best approach.
Absolutely no problem with doing your prep. Yet, equally valid no problem with relinquishing control and permitting the rolls to determine certain outcomes instead of you. Direction is a big part of a DM's job. We need it to run the game, yet we frequently find it hard to give some up, at times when doing so might improve the game.
The core suggestion is this: Have no fear of letting go of the reins. Experiment with a little improvisation for inconsequential outcomes. The result could discover that the surprising result is infinitely more rewarding than anything you could have pre-written by yourself.
Elara is a seasoned gaming journalist with a passion for slot mechanics and player strategies.
