There's been some speculation as to the role dice play in the roleplaying game. Dice as
the decision-maker, adjudicating and limiting options, and
the oracular role of the dice in
expanding options. There's a missing element here though! Or at least not explicitly stated. That's the mythological significance of the dice themselves.
Do you believe in luck? Do you feel lucky, punk?
It's almost an existential question. We're running a simulation of a world here, and we're running a game of chance. That world reflects our own, whether it's a clear reflection or a smokey mirror it still says something about what we believe. Here are some questions about how we approach this, broadly-- 1. Do we believe our own world is random, deterministic, is luck random truly or is it an attribute that things or people might possess, or which forces or spirits might assign? 2: is there free will, and if so what is the nature of free will? 3. does the game have a parallel to our own, or is there are departure? 4- If there is a departure, what is the game? It's possible that the game world is framed as an escape from the normal rules, creating a new set of rules-within-rules. Or it may be simply an extension of the same order, played out in miniature and simplification.
I use this dynamic somewhat consciously. In the world of the game, the mythology is on of the Authority, a nearly-omnipotent god who set all of the world in motion. That's the claim anyway! Alignment is a great example of this cosmic dictation- how much of you being 'good' or 'evil' is because of your actions, and how much is because that's the cosmic slot you've been assigned? Who's making that decision? The DICE sort of act as an intervention into that space, almost an outside force acting on the fabric of the game world. The Authority can dictate everything within the world, but surely not the result of a d20 roll on the physical, real table in front of the player!
So it becomes a random, uncaring, deterministic world which is actively contradicting the cosmic Ordered world within the fiction, and the 'fiction' becomes as much the propaganda of the Church as it is the fiction of the story- although the two are heavily intertwined. It's the Authority's story, as much as any. And I should note that it's questionable how 'true' that ideology of the Authority really is, since no one's actually MET them-but it IS clear that there's a force within the universe that's shaping things in a specific way, and alignment is maybe one of the more player-facing elements of that. I'm constantly, maybe heavy-handedly, trying to get my players to question alignment, and how it's imposed and by who.
I suppose that says a lot about my own philosophy and ethic. And I think the choices anyone makes about how to interact with the dice say a lot about how they see the world, and how we see the world of the game, whether they're conscious decisions or not.
I also like the dynamic of prophecies or fortune telling within the world of the game, as a way of highlighting those different levels of reality. Of course you can use the prophecy as a kind of mechanic, similar to the 5e divination wizards school 'portent' ability, or any kind of 'luck' mechanic. You could even be more heavy handed- if a character is prophecied to die by fire, you could just have it so they CAN'T die any other way, and events conspire to protect them until their fate is sealed. But my favourite way of handling it is to make a prophecy and then... do nothing. At least nothing specific. A suitably vague prophecy of course helps a lot with this. But I find often events conspire naturally to fulfill the prediction, or just as good, when the prophecy falls flat completely (or needs to be re-interpreted)
A shared ritual space:
Another place this comes up is in the social contract of the game. The element of the dice allows multiple points of view on this to come together to one table to play. One person might say 'you, the GM, believe the world is deterministic, but I, the player, shall prove you wrong through the stunning acts of daring my character performs in the course of the game. Surely some fate must be looking out on my behalf!' Other permutations of course are possible.
Hence the common hang ups some players have around people touching their dice without permission. This might be ascribed to simple personal property issues, not wanting your dice to end up in another player's bag, etc. But more common I observe the belief that it effects the luck of the dice- similar to the practice of having 'lucky' dice, which may even be reserved for specific situations in play. Tools of oracle- altar, tarot cards, athame, there are plenty of magical tools that are traditionally only supposed to be handled by the practitioner themselves, or else by others only under certain conditions. I could probably write a whole post, and whole books have certainly been written, about the 'proper' way of approaching these ritual tools. This adherence to certain ritual, whatever that may be for the individual, is I think is another venue to bring different worldviews together to create a shared experience at the table.
The 24-sided die as 'rulebreaker'
One way I have exploited this ritual element to create a certain impact on the game and the players is with
special dice. It's something I want to experiment with more. When my players encountered Strahd von Zarovich they discovered that instead of rolling a regular d20 he had a special purple d24 to use instead. I'm not great at statistics, but that seems like on average a +2 bonus over his regular abilities- not a huge increase, but the psychology of the extra numbers on the dice made it feel like it was unfair, weighted against the players and in favour of the vampire, which is exactly what it
was.
I also keep a special Fudge die or two on hand, to resolve truly arbitrary situations. The d20 has the feeling of some sort of fairness, like your abilities and modifiers could matter, like there's a set difficulty or target. Rolling a d20 makes players feel like they should be able to affect the roll. A percentage d100 roll is too clinical and math-y, and it opens the door to debate on the actual probability, players arguing why they should have a 75% chance instead of only 50%- which is maybe what you want in some situations. But a fudge dice feels truly arbitrary
I have another set of dice with little shields and swords on them, from some boardgame, I'd like to design a monster that rolls them to dictate it's attack and defense for the turn. Or another set of D6s with numbers in the negative and positive range, making them very swingy. Anything basically to remind players that they're rolling dice, and why, and to get them to think outside the box instead of just another 'd20 roll to hit.'
And of course, the upshot of all these shenanigans is also to preserve the sense that rolling a dice is
risky. It carries failure within it. Players should try to avoid rolling dice whenever possible, unless they truly have something to gain. Most traps, for example, can be bypassed with absolutely zero rolls. Social situations are the same, and even in combat I like to only roll the dice when absolutely necessary- if it makes logical sense, you can just do it, no roll required. This increases buy-in with the world of the game, and makes the moments when you do roll dice actually significant.
The flip side of this is using unnecessary rolling to hammer home a point. Goblin Punch's rules for drunkeness for example increase the characters critical failure range by 1 for every point of drunk they have. You can bet that if your character is hammered I'm gonna be calling for rolls for even relatively simple things, just to see what happens. I've also got an idea for a gremlin/slaad type monster which just has a static ability that forces characters to roll for everything- not increasing the difficulty at all, but if you have to roll you might fail... I feel this would be especially effective for OSR games where rolling is less of the norm, and 'DCs' are practically unknown
LATENCY
bring in Marcel Duchamp yo
One of my favourite essays (actually probably more than one) in art school was on this idea of 'latency.' It's an expansion on the idea of the gap between 'the intentions of the artist' on the one hand, and the 'perceptions of the audience' on the other. The gap between the lightning and the arrival of the thunder is a latent moment, or the latency time on an internet connection, or the time while the dice are in the air, after being thrown but before being read. Within that gap is a kind of transcendental moment, but it's a material transcendence, it relies on the medium of the expression. Painting, music, or in this case, dice. In that gap of the unknown, ignorant misunderstanding, the universe rushes in, and we trust the medium to take us to the other side.
