Wow, this thread is getting hard to follow with limited free time and challenging to winnow out theposts I want to respond to from, but here goes... Sorry if it's a bit "piecemeal".
If the party needed to get there tonight, because the sacrifice was going to take place tonight, would an hour-long break for enchantment constitute abandonment of the quest? Or would they still show up right in time for it to be dramatically appropriate?
If I wanted to make a "race the clock" situation these days I would pretty much always do it with a skill challenge; it's a great metric to use openly but in a low key way (I just have green and red beads that I lay out to signal successes and failures).
If a decision is on the table about preparing for the anticipated showdown
after the race at the cost of some speed, it seems to me the answer is simplicity itself: tell the players their characters can spend the time enchanting an item (or whatever) at a cost of one automatic failure in the challenge. Skill challenges are not lost after a single failure, so it's not a simple abandonment - but now you need X successes before two failures, instead of X successes before three failures. A straight tradeoff decision for the players to make, with no fuss.
Choices to help with potential later challenge issues - like the "get a decent meal before setting out" - on the other hand are just as simple. A check on Streetwise (to get a good meal fast) can substitute for an Endurance check later (to press on fast on an empty stomach).
Consider how this applies to looking for a secret door: the players announce "We search for secret doors, tapping and rapping and prodding and pulling, etc". The GM replies, without rolling or calling for a Perception/Search check "OK, you find one . . ." In this case, the GM doesn't pretend to the players that there was a possibility of an alternative fictional state for the game, where the PCs don't find a secret door.
The example brings up a point I find interesting about Robin Laws' "Gumshoe" system. Gumshoe is intended specifically for running mystery/crime solving adventures (and its offshoot, Trail of Cthulhu, is the first game I've seen out-Call of Cthulhu Call of Cthulhu!). A major feature is that finding core clues is never rolled for. If a character gets to the appropriate scene with an appropriate investigative skill and uses it (i.e. announces they search around), they get the clue. Automatically. Laws' insight was that detective stories aren't about
finding the clues - they are about what you do with the clues once you have them.
With the second set of techniques, involving direct manipulation of the fiction, the illusion is created that the effects upon the fiction of resolving players' action declarations will matter to the broader state of the shared fiction. It is a type of covertness about the stakes. In my experience of reading publishes adventures, this variety of illusionism is generally advocated to mitigate against deep changes in the gameworld (eg if the PCs don't stop the evil-so-and-so, eventually another NPC will a day or week or so later).In my actual play experience, this variety of illusionism is used by GMs who (for either practical reasons or aesthetic reasons) don't want to lose control of the campaign world, or have it go in unanticipated directions.
[MENTION=6696971]Manbearcat[/MENTION] wrote about illusionism for Story Now! gaming, but I think this brings to mind a better example still of how that could happen. Suppose a character is faced with a choice to either save a loved one and let a village be destroyed, or save the village and lose the loved one (just to pick an example at random...). If the player has the character choose the village, but it turns out afterwards that the loved one survived anyway, that's a form of Nar illusionism, I think. The hard, emotional choice was never really a hard choice, or an emotional one. It was merely a matter of which the GM had decided was "right" and which "wrong" (assuming that choosing to save the loved one would have meant the villagers got splatted). That might be OK for some sort of pseudo-tactical morality play, but it's not really about the characters' hard choices.
More generally, I think the tendency to identify meaningful choices in terms of "going left" or "going right" is a legacy of D&D's origins as a dungeon exploration game in which the players are trying to beat the GM's dungeon. It is predicated, too, on the players having access to information that makes it possible to choose rationally - detection magic (from spells, wands, swords, potions - these are very common items in the classic game); rumours; treasure maps; etc.
And, going back for a minute to my last post, here we have Edwards' third "agenda" - Gamism. The players are looking to make decisions that are tactically meaningful in the sense that they determine success or failure. "Illusionism" here means having choices that look like they should affect success chances, but don't really.
As an aside, I always found D&D to be a really awkward Gamist vehicle - even though I have found ways to pursue what [MENTION=42582]pemerton[/MENTION] calls "lite gamism" - because the only real "loss condition" implicit in the system is character death. If you want a long-running game with character development and hardcore gamist agenda, you really need loss conditions that keep characters alive (but beaten). 13th Age has the
start of an interesting idea for this in its "campaign losses".
Now, to go further afield, I'm going to propose that there is a binary at play in all RPGs: an exploration of conflict and an exploration of colour. (Have to Americanize it, sorry [MENTION=42582]pemerton[/MENTION]!)
The exploration of conflict is primarily about the avatar(s) progressing through the narrative, and overcoming narrative conflicts to achieve their progression within the greater fictional world. This is also the means in which most customizable and progressible options are opened in most RPGs. This is fighting through orc caves in D&D, or exploring the Air Temple in Final Fantasy, or completing the Icecrown Citadel in World of Warcraft. The avatar(s) have a goal (defeat X, or explore Y) and the referee, whether this be a DM, a game client, or a shared server, presents them with challenges that carry the risk of failure.
Exploration of color, then, is the gameplay where conflict, risk, and stakes are not present or fairly low-key. It's talking to the city guards to find out what's going on in the city in D&D. It's exploring a ramshackle hut in Skyrim to find materials. It's trying out new outfits in Club Penguin. It's building up your home with new furnishings in RIFT, or ArcheAge, or Star Wars Galaxies.
This was such a good post I just wanted to quote part of it again. A real moment of expanded understanding as I read it - thanks!
Oh - I couldn't resist fixing up your spelling for you, though
In general, though, I want a game that is written such that mechanical resolution follows directly from narrative description; so a game that starts with the mechanics, and asks you to go figure out which narrative will get you there, would be "backwards" to me.
It's funny; I used to think this, but now I really, really feel the exact opposite. Shows how tastes differ and also change, I think.
Mechanical resolution following from in-game narrative now seems to me to be the root of so many of the problems I have always perceived in RPGs - D&D, especially. Narrative following mechanics lets the players have more freedom and clarity, allows all involved to envision the world as makes sense to them (as opposed to swallowing whatever BS the GM trots out in purple prose about the specific topic you happen to know about while the GM, evidently, doesn't) and means the designers can be sure that they have a game that works (assuming they playtest it properly...).
This leads to one point I wanted to make but failed to find [MENTION=6668292]JamesonCourage[/MENTION]'s post about (sorry). He explained quite convincingly how he found 4E skills, skill DCs and Skill Challenges lacking in "player empowerment". I get the sense that an important part of what he found important in having "transparent DCs" was that the DCs related directly to the game world. I actually don't think that is required, or even desirable to me. The DCs for skill challenges are "transparent" in the same way that combat encounter "monster lists" are in 4E. They generally, but not necessarily, are set somewhere near the PCs level and the number of successes (or monsters) will generally be proportionate. Exact parameters will be found through play, but the position in the challenge will be evident from the number of successes and failures. There is no "opposition" in the challenge, unless you use a "token" system as I outlined in a post way back.
This provides a type of transparency and clarity that is much more aligned to the "game" than to the game world, but I find that, as with the "game-aligned" rules for combat, these can be projected onto the game world via the players' imaginations quite easily. Such a modus operandi - give a clear and understandable
game, which is abstract but transparent in its workings, and then let/make the players project the situation symbolised by this abstract game onto the imagined roleplaying world - I find to give several advantages. It makes it easy to share a clear and unambiguous picture of the state of play - literally, as it's the "game" state we share, not the detail of game-world colour. It also allows each player to imagine the game world in a way that makes sense to him or her; too often in the past we have stumbled over descriptions (either from the GM or from another player) that, to someone who actually has some knowledge of the topic being modelled, seem totally nonsensical. It also makes available options and choices clearer to the players, at least at the game level, and it allows consistent adjudication of quite variable "cool moves". It assumes character expertise, rather than having effective character expertise limited by the collective/shared expertise and communications abilities of the play group. Overall, I find it vastly superior. YM, naturally, MV.