I let people know in my session 0 that I change stat blocks on a fairly regular basis so they aren't surprised when it happens. Just because it looks like a [insert creature here] does not mean it matches the version in the book, although I'll frequently give hints.
I don't expect that every monster "matches the version in the book."
But I expect that if you
see an owlbear, and fight that owlbear, that owlbear's HP don't change
while you are fighting it unless there is an actual, knowable
reason why its HP change.
I expect that if you give hints, those hints
matter and are
correct (even if I misunderstood or misinterpreted them, because that's on me), unless and until you drop new hints. Hints that, if understood correctly, would reveal the old hints were wrong or incomplete or overly simplified etc.
I expect that, if we face the same creatures at the same level (e.g., we fight two owlbears now, and just two sessions later we fight an evil druid, whose menagerie includes another owlbear), then even if all of these owlbears don't match the book, they at least match one another. Unless, of course, a reason is given. Druid magic (What kind of magic? Can it be prevented or dispelled? Can we learn to exploit it ourselves? etc.), being imported from a foreign land (Which land? What else comes from there? How do that land's residents deal with owlbears? etc.), a divine boon or curse (From whom? Why? Is such intervention common? Can we petition the god(s) involved for aid? etc.), whatever the reason might be. But there has to be a reason, and that reason must be learnable (even if I fail to learn it through my own errors or through bad luck.)
It's my understanding (and I may be wrong, so apologies in advance!) that you run very much beer & pretzels type of games (most of which don't run for very long?) So I can understand your not really worrying too much about the dramatic weight of a particular encounter, there'll be another one around the corner after all?
I run an emphatically not beer-and-pretzels game (heavy emphasis on politics and intrigue, high fantasy action, moral and social consequences for choices are a big deal, etc.) The above is also my experience. If things go pear-shaped without going outright horrible, the excitement comes from needing to figure out how to dig themselves out of this hole they're in (in one memed-upon case, literally for our Bard; I memorably said, "<Bard>, you're in a hole. Why are you in a hole? Don't be in a hole." This has become a running gag mostly from the Bard's player!) If a fight goes absolutely swimmingly, or they figure out a clever trick to win way faster than expected, it becomes a memorably satisfying moment of "this time we outsmarted
you, GM." And if it goes more or less as planned, then the fight is generally a stepping stone to some larger concern, like stopping an evil cult, overcoming a dangerous threat, cleansing a corrupted person, rescuing a hostage, etc., so the fight adds excitement by proxy, being an obstacle on the journey toward that larger concern.
Yeah I guess my table made their disappointment very clear when a boss encounter was an anticlimax.
Serious question: Should every fight always be uniformly "exciting"? Or is it healthy to have the occasional anticlimax?
People talk an awful lot about how horrible "balanced encounters" are (by which term they
actually mean "uniform lockstep encounters"), but isn't this exactly the same thing? You're just forcing uniformity of feeling, rather than uniformity of challenge.
I guess I don't understand why my coming up with something 5 hours ago or 5 seconds ago makes any difference.
It's not "did I come up with it 5 seconds ago."
It's "as of 5 seconds ago, I am
contradicting what had been true for the previous 5 hours. And you aren't allowed to know that that contradiction occurred. But you will have to deal with the fact that what was once true is now false and what is now true was previously false."
There is no underlying reality. At any moment I can just TPK the party after all.
Then here, finally, we have the actual problem. I expect—indeed,
absolutely require—there to be
some amount of underlying reality in order to feel any excitement whatsoever. If, as you say, at any moment for no reason whatsoever you can just say "rocks fall, everyone dies, good game, hope to see you around," that kills my investment in the game stone dead. If there is no underlying reality, there is no
story. No adventure. Nothing to speculate about, nothing to plan for, nothing to investigate. It becomes an entirely empty experience, and I can have
those whenever I like by numerous different means.
A game with no underlying reality is reduced to only its brute physical and mathematical facts. It is only pixels on a screen (or plastic on a table) and numbers in a document (or on a sheet of paper.) The underlying reality, even if we access it through abstractions and glossed-over elements, is vital to the experience, in exactly the same way as it would be for a book, TV show, movie, etc. A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, but it is the word "foolish" that is doing most of the work there: a
wise consistency is the foundation of anything I could ever consider a "story."