An opinion expressed in its more extreme form can serve as a kick, prompting reflection on one’s own attitudes.
Nowadays, we have a vast array of various types of dice and random decision-making devices at our disposal. For Yes-No questions, we can consult the classic coin; for options of four, six, eight, twelve, and twenty, there are regular polyhedra adapted into dice. (Kepler would be astonished.) For the sake of probability and percentile rolls, special ten-sided and hundred-sided dice were introduced. From this, one can see that we are truly not pinched by a lack of possibilities. Yet, there are those who, even in this paradise of options where they can choose their method of drawing lots entirely according to their own will, depart the field of dice games altogether and decide everything on their own field by their will and discretion alone.
Though we have undergone this evolution ourselves, it is our duty to lambaste these renegade daredevils who have decided to bear the entire development of the plot solely upon their own shoulders, leaving not even a tiny crack for chance to influence the players’ imagination beyond what they expect and assume.
They claim that dice must be cast aside because one thereby entrusts their fate into the hands of blind chance, which does not account for a character’s abilities at all, but rather surrenders them naked and helpless into the pernicious embrace of Fortune alone. Such demagogic talk sounds truly ridiculous to our ears, especially when paired with the usual complaint of such players—namely, that they always roll low numbers and have “bad luck” with chance. Such talk is nothing but shameless lies, for an objective observer will find that they roll average numbers just as high as everyone else; it is only their unstable psyche that emphasizes the failures while passing over successes with a cold assessment of “well, finally.”
I do not wish merely to crush specific manifestations of dissatisfaction that stem from the unmanly nature of such players, who cannot bear the feeling of uncertainty and risk, preferring instead to surrender themselves into the safe hands of the Game Master, who “surely won’t let them die.” These cowardly “heroes,” rather than relying on their own wit even in times of discomfort and misfortune, wish to entrust all random elements to the Game Master so they can later badger him and demand compensation.
However, such people keep the GM under permanent pressure of responsibility, as he decides the successes and failures of the characters. Consequently, various vices, great and small, may appear in him—such as overly indulging the GM’s favorite, a temptation that dice help significantly to diminish. Furthermore, if the GM is fair and does not wish to draw the attention of eternally critical players, he might, for example, disallow (i.e., declare as failed) various wild but original stunts. Yet, if he were to entrust the same case to the dice, he grants the player a chance of success, deflects the complaints of other players from himself, and introduces a bit of unexpectedness and dynamics into the game—elements that a top-down, perpetually determined game without dice inherently lacks.
Dice, of course, must be used in moderation. Certain basic ranges must be given, and superior traits must be clearly prioritized. If the dice are played with irrationally, absurdities occur—for instance, a cleaning lady swings a broom at an armored knight and happens to roll ten sixes for her attack, leaving the knight dead. Such a case appears nonsensical, and to a large extent, it is. However, interesting things can be demonstrated by it: what is the probability that a cleaning lady hits the gap in a visor directly into the knight’s eye with a broom handle? You might be surprised, but this probability is close to the probability of rolling ten sixes in a row.
Naturally, we shall not speak here of various depraved forms of dice-playing that distance it from reality. These are not flaws in the principle of chance itself as represented by dice, but rather specific errors of specific individuals who blindly follow specifically poorly written rules. Notice how much of the so-called criticism from opponents of dice-play is based on citing such stupid examples from children’s games.
In conclusion: dice are, in any case, necessary in the game. They provide the possibility of an unexpected plot, they offer a real chance for clever and dangerous ventures, and they shift part of the decision-making responsibility from the GM’s shoulders—which is good for both him and the players. The player becomes the author of their own deeds and does not have to thank the GM for them, nor fear that the next venture will fail simply because the GM has been “allowing” too much for too long. A trait unpleasant to some, but pleasant to most healthy individuals, is the uncertainty of both the GM and the players as to what awaits them. For a third force enters the game, besides the will of the GM and the players—the force of chance, which snatches the game from dull determinism and brings both hope and danger. It creates true heroes.
© 2004 Jan Kozák Jr.
