What would be interesting for me is some advice on how to get PC's to declare goals like this (as explicitly as possible!), and how to mix them together into plots where they can't be accomplished at the same time. I don't know if that's Fail Forward, but it sounds meaty!
Most of Burning Wheel's GMing advice - for action resolution, for scene-framing, for backstory and campaign design - is aimed at this. It interacts with a PC build system that requires players to provide clear signals about goals for their PCs.
"Fail forward" is a fairly important element in this, because it is the narration of failure by the GM that introduces the additional content into the fictional situation that establishes the conflicts between a player's goals for his/her PC.
To give an actual play example, again from BW:
* The mage PC has three relevant goals: to align with the other PCs so as to free his brother from Balrog possession, and also to recover a nickel-silver mace from the ruins of his former tower;
* The sorcerer/assassin/ranger PC has a goal to flay her former master and send his soul to Hell, in revenge for what he did to her - her former master happens to be the brother;
* The elven ronin PC has a goal to confront evil whether it resides in the hearts of orcs or humanity, and (as part of his backstory) wears a broken black arrow about his neck, the cursed arrow that slew his (former) master and mentor.
The PCs arrive at the ruined tower in the Abor-Alz which, some 14 years ago, was the home of the PC mage and his brother, and which they abandoned when it was attacked by orcs and his brother became possessed by the Balrog when an attempt to cast a might combat spell failed. (This was backstory already established by the player of the mage, more-or-less from the beginning of the campaign.)
As already noted, the player of the mage wants to find the mace that he once forged but never successfully enchanted (further backstory established by the player a session or so beforehand, when he decided that a mace would be a good melee weapon for his PC.) So the PC encourages the elven ronin to search through the tower looking for the mace (the ronin being the only PC with Scavenging skill, which is the relevant skill in BW for this sort of thing).
The check is made, and fails. So I tell the players that the ronin searches through the ruins of the tower, but the only interesting thing that he finds is a stand of black arrows sitting in the ruins of what was, 14 years ago, the brother's workroom to which the PC mage was never admitted. When the PC mage uses Aura Reading to ascertain the nature of the arrows, I don't ask for a roll but simply tell him: the arrows are cursed with a penalty to recovery rolls from the injuries they cause which (for various system mechanical reasons) will be particularly harsh on elves.
The mace, of course, can't be found. Someone else must have already taken it. (In the next session it turned out that it had been taken by the dark elf who was trying to thwart the PCs.)
In narrating that failure for the Scavenging check, I achieve several things: I generated a very strong implication that the brother was evil
before being possessed by the Balrog; I established a clear connection between the elven ronin's backstory and the backstory of the other two PCs; and I made it hard if not impossible for the mage PC to ally with the other PCs to
save his brother. (In a subsequent session, there was in fact a Duel of Wits between the mage PC on one side and the sorcerer-assassin and elf PCs on the other side, in which the mage was persuaded to ally with them in tracking down his brother, but so that he could be killed - because he was clearly irredeemably evil.)
To say that, in this example, the failure at Scavenging wasn't really a failure because the PCs nevertheless recovered some potentially valuable magical items (four black arrows) would, I think, be completely misunderstanding the dynamics of play. To allude to the distinction that [MENTION=99817]chaochou[/MENTION] drew in a post not too far upthread, it would be to focus entirely on
capabilities (in this case, how well equipped are the PCs) and not on
characters and their motivations and dramatic circumstances.
IMy impression is that Fail Forward removes a potentially interesting failure condition ("you can't") intentionally, so that a momentum toward a goal is maintained.
Then you are under a false impression. What is maintained is not "momentum towards a goal". What is maintained is
momentum, pure and simple.
Dropping the rod down the ravine doesn't maintain momentum towards the goal of recovering the pudding from the top of Mt Pudding. It impedes that goal, by making finding the pudding harder. But dropping the rod does maintain momentum, because it forces the player to make a choice for his/her PC which is - on the assumption that there is player buy-in in the first place - dramatically engaging. Namely, do I keep going up and try to secure the pudding without the benefit of a diving rod, or do I go and hunt for my rod but thereby delay my summiting of the mountain.
In my actual play example, finding black arrows rather than the mace doesn't maintain momentum towards the goal of recovering the mace. It significantly reduces that momentum. But it generates momentum in another direction, namely, bringing the potentially conflicting beliefs and goals of the PCs closer to a crisis point.
I also think it is important to only use it sometimes so the players don't end up expecting or relying on always having a fail forward.
My response to this is the same as to the previous quote from IAB. The only thing that "fail forward" allows players to rely on is that their PCs will always be confronted by interesting and engaging challenges. And that is something that I
do want the players in my game to expect. If I'm not delivering this, then I'm failing as a GM. (More on this below in this post.)
In the case of Fail Forward, it doesn't appear that the repeat attempt costs you anything of note (unless it requires the use of multiple competing goals as I point out above).
This I don't follow. Putting to one side what exactly "repeat attempts" actually mean (given that systems which emphasis "fail forward" are also likely to use some version of Let It Ride, or scene-based resolution, which means that repeats aren't possible), every failure is costing something vital to the PC and his/her goals. (Eg - in [MENTION=6696971]Manbearcat[/MENTION]'s example, the PC loses his/her pudding divining rod; in my actual play example, the PC loses not only the prospect of finding the mace in the tower, but also loses any immediate prospect of allying with the other PCs so as to save his brother from the Balrog. These are all costs of rather great note for that PC and that player.)
Note that this does not depend upon multiple competing goals, because the goals are only competing
as a result of the failure. I think that that is clear in my actual play example. It's also clear in Manbearcat's example: the goals of finding the pudding, and of getting to the top of the mountain, only come into conflict
once the rod has been dropped, which makes it the case that finding the pudding (by way of the rod) might require not going up the mountain (which, at least if it's to be done expeditiously, requires abandoning the rod down the ravine).
If the PCs are as motivationally thin as the traditional 1st level AD&D PC that you describe -
all they want is treasure and renown - then losing the rod may not bother them, as they will just go on to some other adventure. For "fail forward" to be interesting as a technique, the players have to be sufficiently vested in their PCs' goals and commitments that compelling failures of intention are available for the GM to narrate.
Speaking from a player's perspective - I WANT complications and difficulty. So the incentives here seems screwy - if as a player I want complications and difficulty then...I want to fail checks?
"Fail forward" techniques tend to be associated with "scene framing", character-driven play - as has been discussed and elaborated upthread.
If the mage PC in my game had been successful in finding the mace in the tower, he would still have had complications and difficulties. Just different ones, related to whatever goal the player authored for the PC to replace the "get a mace" goal. (In BW all PCs have three Beliefs at all times, and a player is free to change any Belief at (almost) any time.) The difference between success and failure isn't about whether or not the PCs have challenges in front of them, but whether the unfolding path of those challenges is broadly reflecting the PCs' desires and goals, or thwarting them. A dramatically satisfying story tends to need a bit of each - constant failure can generate bathos, just as constant success can generate Mary Sue-ism.
I wonder if "puzzle fun" (AKA: achievement) isn't the fun that advocates of Fail Forward tend to slightly prefer, over "dice fun" (AKA: excitement). In which case we may have a good ol' fashioned goal misalignment when it comes to using Fail Forward as a tool.
I think the "puzzle" thing is entirely a red herring - the paradigm of puzzle-type play is classic D&D (ToH, White Plume Mountain etc) which has nothing to do with "fail forward".
The fun of "fail forward" play is the creation of dramatic narrative by way of RPGing. Eero Tuovinen
puts it well:
The fun in these games from the player’s viewpoint comes from the fact that he can create an amazing story with nothing but choices made in playing his character; this is the holy grail of rpg design, this is exactly the thing that was promised to me in 1992 in the MERP rulebook.
I would hope that my actual play examples also illustrate that this is what the fun consists in. (Of course "amazing story" is a matter of degree - but B fiction is much more aesthetically engaging when you are spontaneously generating it as a participant with your friends.)
there are a multitude of possibilities between... narrating consequences s/he thinks are fun and interesting (I'm assuming that also successfully engage the players) vs. narrating consequences s/he thinks are frustrating and boring (which I'm assuming do not engage the players.)...
From the GM narrating what he/she finds personally fun/interesting (that does not gel with or engage the players) to what the players think is fun and interesting (but is never considered or not deemed so by the GM).
<snip>
What if I believed I could grab an outcropping or survive the fall and thus would rather fall then loose my rod? Why do you the GM get to decide that is the consequence when the mechanics I was engaging with are the mechanics for climbing... not for dropping or loosing items...
This is all about stakes setting. You are asking, in effect, What happens if, from the point of view of the players, the GM sets the wrong stakes? The answer is, if this happens repeatedly then the game will suck. That's why, as Eero Tuovinen points out in the same blog I already linked to in this post,
The GM . . . needs to be able to . . . figure out consequences. Much of the rules systems in these games address these challenges, and in addition the GM might have methodical tools outside the rules . . . and pure experience (helps with determining consequences).
Ron Edwards also
addressed the issue in a post about scene-framing techniques:
It's not the distributed or not-distributed aspect of situational authority )ie who gets to frame scenes and set stakes] you're concerned with, it's your trust at the table, as a group, that your situations in the S[hared ]I[maginary ]S[pace] are worth anyone's time. Bluntly, you guys ought to work on that.
To pick up on your particular example: if the player clearly prefers the stake of the failed check to be falling down the ravine rather than losing the rod, then the GM should be having regard to that in framing stakes.
Similarly, if the player has already established in the fiction that his/her rod is well-secured (eg via a successful backpack-packing check) then the GM should be having regard to that settled backstory in framing consequences. (As far as grabbing an outcropping, etc, that may already have been resolved as part of the Climbing check - that will itself depend upon how the stakes have been framed.)
As I noted upthread, there are also some GMs around who build boring dungeons. But that's not an objection to classic D&D in general. All games that are based around a GM require that GM to have the appropriate skills. (In my own case I think I'm not especially good at dungeon design, but am not too bad at narrating "fail forward"-style consequences that keep the game moving in a manner that engages my players.)
the GM should also have some say in the stakes - editorial or veto power, if you will, to keep the efforts sensible.
<snip>
If the player really doesn't want certain consequences, I'd just allow them to make a check. Don't want to lose the Wand of Pudding Location on the way up? Make a Survival check before you start. If you make that check then, on the way up, if you fail a climb, I won't impose a "dropped the wand" consequence. I'll think of something else, instead, that is consistent with the preparations the players took. Because, really, the players won't be able to think of *everything* - there's always a consequence the GM can add.
Agreed. Ultimately it is the GM who sets the stakes in this sort of game, because otherwise the player is forced to manage both sides of the conflict while trying to play a character located on one side of the conflict - which can be a difficult conflict of interest to resolve.
But of course the GM is having regard to player concerns and interests - that's the whole point of this sort of play - and players who want to lock down the fiction in certain ways can use the game systems to do so - that's what skill checks, fate points etc are for.
And flexibility with respect to backstory, in combination with the general frailties of human preparations and anticipation, mean that there are absolutely always consequences that can be imposed without contradicting the established backstory.
Tying unrelated events to a skill makes it too disjointed for me.
In picking a lock a fail resulting in broken tools or alerting the rooms occupants is a logical follow on from failing to pick a lock (you used too much force, dropped you tools, etc.) but a failure that let you "open the door, but it starts raining" (somehow if you were better at picking locks you could have controlled the weather) is a step to far for me.
it rains on the skilled and unskilled alike. If it is going to rain then your lack of skill isn't going to cause it to happen.
For me the failing point with the rain, isn't that the rain isn't interesting, because it clearly is... but it would be interesting if you lock pick successfully or not.
<snip>
If you need a chance of the raining happening just pick a chance and roll.
Again, this is about how the stakes are set.
The language of "causation" is mistaken, though. The attempt by the elven ronin in my BW game to find the mace in the tower didn't
cause the mace, or the black arrows, to be there or not there. Rather, the mechanical action declaration - an event at the table - caused me, as GM, to establish one or the other as true within the fiction.
You might say that finding the black arrows would have been interesting whether or not the PCs found the mace. True. But part of the point of an RPG is that the players and GM share authority in determining what is true in the fiction. The player of the mage, who was the one who actually set up the Scavenging check (even though it was attempted by another PC), did not want to find black arrows, and thereby learn (in character) that his brother was doing wicked things prior to being possessed by a Balrog. And if the check had been successful. then as GM the rules of the game oblige me to respect the player's desire.
The point of failure, in a "fail forward" game, is to shift authority to the GM rather than the player to introduce interesting stuff, which thereby allows the GM to introduce stuff that thwards rather than conforms with the players' desires for their PCs.
So, just as I narrated black arrows in lieu of a mace on a failed Scavenging check, I could imagine that there might be a situation where it is appropriate to narrate opening the door into a rainstorm for a failed Lockpicking check.
if you decide that on a failed medicine roll, then the patients family turns up and demands that the operation stop for religious reasons there is no link between the skill and the result. The family would turn up independent of the doctor skill. They would turn up if a good doctor was working on the patient or if an OK doctor was working on the patient. The doctors skills in no way affect the chances of the family turning up. So either it is so interesting that it happens anyway, or assign a random chance of it happening independent of what is happening in the operation.
My response to this is the same as for the rain example: you are assuming a type of correlation between the resolution of the action declaration at the table, and the causal processes that unfold in the gameworld, which
does not hold in a game being played "fail forward"-style.
