Gentlegamer said:
A role-playing game is a mental and social activity, so those attributes of the players are "tested" by the game.
I respectfully disagree.
A role-playing game is a mental and social activity, but the "difficulty" of the game, for me, isn't in the test of a player's mental and social faculties.
The challenge of the game comes in using your character's abilities well to overcome the obstacles the DM sets before you.
This can include mental and social components, but, importantly, it's
your character's mental and social skills, not yours. Just as it's your character's combat skills, not yours.
The kind of abilities I demand of my players are the abilities to think imaginatively about what their character can do. That's the big thing in D&D for me: imagination. Using your own memory or elegance isn't using your imagination. If any players have an advantage in my games it is the ones who think inventively, creatively, and uniquely. The ones who bring that sort of delightful surprise to the table will always be the ones who, at my table, can accomplish delightfully surprising things.
Of course, those folks with quick memories and honeyed tongues are also welcome, and they'll contribute to the fun in their own ways. They won't, however, necessarily be able to translate that into mechanical success, especially when they're not playing characters that fit their own abilities.
Gentlegamer said:
What is commonly called 'metagaming' in RPGs is really just 'gaming.' Otherwise, the game-form requires a type of double-think that is impossible to regulate fairly.
The only 'metagaming' (using information or abilities from 'outside the game') that is cheating is when players peek at the DM's notes.
I'm not talking about cheating, though. As a game with vague-at-best victory conditions, I'm not worried about "cheaters" in D&D.
I'm talking about the breaking of a fragile suspension of disbelief, the concept that you and your character are distinct entities. The same imagination that allows a 98-lb weakling to be a hulking warrior allows a shy person to be a suave wordsmith and the dude with ADD to be a elven wizard with a memory measured in aeons. That imaginary world is broken for me when the Int 5 Barbarian puzzles out the riddle just because their player knows a lot of riddles.
That's the essence of D&D's "fun failure:" when you fail at something because
your character would, it's a lot more fun for me than succeeding at something because you personally would.
It's a lot more harmful to my style of games to have someone wreck the shared lie that there is this fantasy world that we are imagining into existence than it is to have someone check my notes. My notes are half-forgotten quarter-truths as it is. That world, though, that's
important. That's why I play D&D, and I brook nothing challenging it from the outside, including Peter's own extensive education or Sally's own skillful persuasion, or Arthur's own work-out regimen.