Rolflyn said:
I find it more fun to have player skill tested. More fun to figure out a riddle myself than roll a skill check. More entertaining to check the statue for secret compartments than just roll a check for the entire room. More enjoyable to come up with a good argument for the titan to aid us than roll some dice and add a modifier.
...
We find it more fun to have randomness and a chance of failure in combat or something dangerous like a jump over a ravine.
...
The risk of failure via the dice feels more satisfying.
So my big question here is: what determines when you go with the first kind of fun, and when you go with the second kind of fun? And what if you flipped them around, using dice rolls to find secrets and figure out riddles, and just describing a jump over a ravine or a sword strike in combat?
The determining factor to me, on the outside looking in, simply that the consequences seem different. Fail to jump over a ravine, you might die. Fail to talk to the titan, you might find some other way to succeed.
This is what seems kind of arbitrary to me, though my gut says that it can't just be arbitrary. Why is avoiding injury the only time we break out the complex mechanical framework?
What for? A ravine you fail to jump across is no less of a failure than a titan you can't convince to help you.
Perhaps it's a legacy thing. In early D&D games, life was so fragile and expendable that the DM needed more to justify their whims to kill or cripple you than just their say-so. They could point at the dice and go, "See, you had a fair chance!" This would perhaps keep players from walking out on them.
That's less relevant in today's games of characters who rarely die permanently, of course. As we've moved from characters who are assumed to fail (an overtly gamist/sim idea) to a notion of characters who are assumed to succeed (a more narrative idea), the distinction between a failure to jump over a cliff and a failure to find the treasure are nearly meaningless.
I wrestled with this a while ago when doing some FFZ design, about where the
challenge in the game lies. When do you suffer the consequences for your failures, and what consequences can those be, to encourage you to keep playing? Especially in a more narrative game, where outright character death is not much of an option, how do you measure the degree of success? Or is this the tabletop version of an easy JRPG, where you're just pressing the A button over and over again when you roll the dice to watch a story unfold, perhaps with minor variations?
Maybe we're just trained and habituated from 30+ years of "You roll to hit, but you talk to convince" and we think it's somehow natural, the way things should be. But the game clearly does not have to be this way. There's fun in both modes for most players. When do you do one and when do you do another, and can they all coexist in the same system?