Sometimes I think DMs forget their players are trying to enjoy a game.
Not everyone has 8 hours a week to sit at the table. Let’s get things going.
Sometimes I think DMs forget their players are trying to enjoy a game.
Not everyone has 8 hours a week to sit at the table. Let’s get things going.
Critical failure doesn’t have to mean the worst outcome imaginable, though.
Rolling a 1 on a routine skill check that you’ve done a thousand times as an expert should reflect the circumstances.
Landing a familiar model plane at your home airport on a sunny day with no wind? Rolling a 1 means it’s as bad as it can be under those circumstances. Let’s say, a bird flies into the windshield and obscures your view. New problem to solve! New roleplaying opportunity! Doesn’t mean the plane insta-crashes. You might just deal with the failure creatively and carry on like nothing happened. Scary moment, but fun to play out.
Now let’s say you’re the same experienced pilot, but you’re landing an unfamiliar, stolen plane that your rogue hot wired, and you’re trying to land on a beach littered with tourists and rocks.
Rolling a 1 for a critical failure is a much different scenario this time.
Nothing is more fun than guessing what arbitrary macguffin the DM has in mind. Or tirelessly asking if you see anything in this corner or that corner, or over there, or under the desk, or behind the tapestry.