When Failing Forward Fails & How To Fix It

A commentator on my Rule of Cool post kindly suggested that I take a look at ‘Failing forward’ next.

Here we go.

Do We Need This Rule?

Whereas I concluded with The Rule of Cool that codifying ‘cool’ is not worth the effort for me, I would not say the same about Failing Forward. Gary Gygax and the boys did not make the perfect RPG, they made (one of) the first one(s). The resolution of actions has always been a point of contention from the start.

Playing YEG, we’ve all had this interchange:

DM: There’s a lock on the door.

Thief player: I pick the lock.

DM: Roll it!

Thief player: Oops, I failed.

DM: It stays locked.

Thief player: I’ll try again.

DM: You can’t.

Thief player: Why not?

DM: You have to, um, get a level first.

It is even worse in BRP, which adds in criticals and fumbles. Does a critical mean all locks in the room open? Does a fumble mean the locks explode? Considering their opposing interests, what if the GM has one interpretation and players another?

(Note that seasoned players and GMs may chuckle at these examples, but I have heard these and worse from new players. And I surmise that the Rule of Cool and Failing Forward is made precisely for the younger generation, who have neither the time nor interest in playing pathetic zeros who have to fight every step of the way to hero, and rarely make it that far.)

So, we have from D&D the problem of stark pass or fail mechanics that can easily derail the game if an important check is failed. Add in the granularity of criticals and fumbles in d100 systems, and you have a huge burden on the GM to interpret the results in a way acceptable to players, and which also makes the game flow.

In this light, it is natural that RPGers would conceive of a houserule to address this issue. Just as in any academic research, we’ve defined the problem. The next step is to define our terms.

What exactly is Failing Forward?

Gnome Stew describes it thus,

…the idea of “failing forward.”... is, creating a partial failure that moves the plot, or at minimum makes things more interesting. This is an idea that’s been around for a while, but PbtA turned this idea into systems, primarily by saying that players may succeed even with a failed roll, but at a cost. This is a sea change for games that had for decades operated practically under the maxim that “failure means nothing happens,” and I want to be clear that this rocked my gaming world.

I agree wholeheartedly with this take. Ideally, Failing forward should have at least the following:

1 a system

2 a cost

3 an interesting result

4 an alternative to pass / fail of older systems

Next, Gnome Stew gives some excellent options for GMs to implement:

Figure out options

Remove resources

Create challenges / complications with choice

Add conditions

Drive towards doom

Sometimes failure is failure

Finally, at the end of the article, Gnome Stew turns these options into tables not unlike my own tables about substituting PC death with a story hook (HERE).

Yet this isn’t the only method to ensure PCs fail forward. The entire Gumshoe system is predicated on the belief that a flubbed roll should never derail an investigation, with Investigative Abilities that always cough up a clue, or can be used for Story Effects.

So What’s The Problem Tedankhamen?

First, the Goblin Stew random table implies that GMs have time to prepare all the outcomes for a ‘Failing forward’ situation. In reality, many fail forward situations are impromptu or unforeseen, and thus GMs don’t have the luxury of making a random table. In these cases, if the action is tangential to the plot, the GM should just adjudicate them simply, ie the lock is open, closed, or stuck. If players insist on robbing stores or charming NPCs with no relation to the storyline, they should not be overwhelmed by the results and the GM’s role is to nudge or just point them back towards the storyline.

(Note that I do realize what fun can be had going off the rails and letting PCs do their thing for an adventure, but in my experience all too often it is hard to get back to the scenario or mission at hand)

Another larger problem, as I see it, is the expectation that EVERY failure has to allow falling forward. Just as I critiqued the expectation with The Rule of Cool that the GM has to guarantee that players should be able to do something awesome EVERY session (instead of proactively taking enough risks for awesome results to naturally arise), I take issue with the expectation that every failure has to have an option to succeed in some fashion. As noted above, mundane actions should be resolved simply so that the game can keep moving.

On the other end of the scale, for pivotal actions, “Failure is not an option” may be a pithy phrase from action movies, but without the option to fail, there is no dramatic tension in the game. If you’re fighting the big bad or doing a heist, removing the option to fail also lessens the stakes of those endeavours. If players are so afraid of failing that they need training wheels for every challenge, or the GM so afraid of the adventure fizzling he nerfs it, then there are other serious problems. During my last disastrous D&D playing experience, a fight with the Big Bad was a total slog with no stakes because everytime we took some damage we ‘luckily’ fell forward into something contrived that helped us turn the tide. Honestly, I barely recall what the adventure or fight was about. 

Contrast that to my first D&D experience, 30 years ago now. We spent a year gaming weekly real time to clear out some homebrew gnomish mines. We died several times and paid a dollar into the pizza jar to resurrect our characters.

We ate LOADS of pizza.

Then, at the end of the saga, we finally got our hands on the mystical Bow of Light that would save the world. As soon as our Ranger touched it, POOF, it was gone. The player explained that he had picked ‘Next Magic Item is Destroyed’ in a Deck of Many Things we had encountered previously.

The campaign ended then and there, no regrets, no attempts to resuscitate. And we felt good about it. Failing Forward in this situation would have needlessly extended the campaign that ended on an unforeseen beat, and would probably have fizzled out soon after.

Failing Forward is thus NOT a panacea for a dull adventure, player lassitude, or GM inability to plan or improvise EVERY interaction. Failing Forward is not be a Get Out of Jail card or bandaid for non compelling play.

Then, when and how should it be used in actual play?

How I Do It

One way I did this was to ask players what would be the best and worst outcomes of a roll, especially one that is risky or central to the narrative action. Surprisingly, players are very honest and engaged when you put things this way, instead of falling back on the old paradigm of the GM who controls failure opposed to the player who is gunning for success.

In my last Call of Cthulhu game, a player suggested doing some fancy swordsmanship on the ceiling itself to hold off a Nazi ghoul troop chasing the PCs through a cave system. I asked her about success and failure, she suggested that she either successfully bring down the cave on her pursuers, or take falling rock damage herself. I quickly outlined what I thought were the options:

Critical - Pursuers are trapped and injured

Success - Pursuers are cut off, allowing the PCs to escape

Failure - The action fails, battle ensues

Fumble - The cave comes down on EVERYONE

The player agreed wholeheartedly to these options, and bones were rolled.

Success!

The cave cut off the pursuers, the players even had a dramatic “Until we meet again!” moment with the antagonist on the other side of the rockfall, and the adventure rolled on successfully.

Conclusion

To be able to resolve necessary Failing Forward situations on the fly, more than anything else, involve the players in determining what the stakes are. Outline them clearly, get assent, then get rolling with the anticipation that real stakes and the exciting possibilities of success AND failure they bring.

Sources

Gnome Stew

https://gnomestew.com/failing-forward-how-to-make-failure-interesting-in-rpgs/

Moorcock Bestiary # 1 Owl + Bear and Random ‘Thing’

I think of all my Stormbringer redux posts, my musing on a Moorcock Bestiary (post #12) was my best work. It shows an analytical understanding of the source material, and models how to practically convert that into satisfying game mechanics.

Today, I want to exercise my monster making muscles using the principles I outlined. 

First, I’ll take a monster common in FRPGs and try to Moorcock it up. Next, I’ll randomly roll the elements and try to free associate a suitably Moorcockean monster.

Let’s dive into it!

MONSTER 1 THE OWL + BEAR

I have heard that many other FRPGs use hybrid monsters, and in particular the strange hybrid of an owl and a bear seems to have taken root in the collective gamer psyche.

Although Moorcock’s symbols are largely Eurocentric, considering that he wrote Elric in America and lives in the Lone Star State, let’s use Native American iconography to make this monster special.

First, how do native americans see the owl?

The Owl possesses the knowledge of a people’s ancestors, and is the bridge between the physical and spiritual world. It ensures a continuation of the great culture of the Northwest Coast, which has lasted for thousands of years.

We can add to this its biological power of seeing in the dark, as well as its shriek which makes smaller prey freeze in their tracks.

How about the bear?

The Bear is the protector of the animal kingdom. With its great power and human-like qualities, the bear is known as the Elder Kinsman and always treated as a high-ranking quest. The also symbolizes strength, learned humility, teaching and motherhood.

Physiologically, the bear is immensely strong, has a great sense of smell, can fend off poisons, but can be scared off by bigger or louder creatures and hibernates through the winter.

So, we have a strong nocturnal hunter with ancient knowledge used to protect the animal kingdom and / or connect worlds. It could be a prince among Beast Lords, or an ancient portal guardian.

In game terms, it could be used at least two ways:

1. Source of Knowledge

In this context, PCs would have to find a way to wake the entity, then get its wisdom. Perhaps they have to bring back its prey, or else turn eternal day into night for it to open a gate or point them towards an elder race.

2. Ancient Guardian of Slumbering Secrets

In this meaning, PCs would have to make their way through a darkened maze to find a secret. Once the secret is found, the ear piercing shrieks of the guardian draw even closer, freezing PCs in their tracks. The party better have at least one sorcerer if they wish to survive intact.

As for stats, the astute reader can throw these together from the books, ie. STR of bear, DEX of owl, See in Dark 90% (45% in light), etcetera.

MONSTER 2 - Psychedelic Metaphor

The reader may remember that I devised the following schemata or taxonomy to explain the Moorcockean monsters of the Elric saga:

1 Metaphorical - Have the fiend represent some theme, such as fear, pride, greed, etc. i.e. The goblins of Myshella's castle.

2 Allegorical - Make a story behind the monster suggested by its appearance, behaviour, and powers. i.e. Grahluk and Elenoin.

3 Psychedelic - Make the creature mind-bending - trippy but also transformative. i.e. Agak and Gagak.

4 Weird - Choose a traditional monster, then flip it. i.e. Clakar for Harpies.

5 Cosmic - Have the horror be beyond mortal understanding, and sanity-rending. i.e. Kyreen.

6 Corrupted - The monster is a human warped by chaos, usually through their own choices or flaws. i.e. Pigs, Snake, Butterflyman.

Let’s roll a pair of D6 and see what inspiration we get:

1 and 3

So, a metaphorical and psychedelic monster. It should represent a theme, but also be trippy but transformative.

Let’s free associate….

The first thing that springs to mind is Timothy Leary, and his motto of “Turn on, tune in, and drop out.”

OK, so I picture Dr Leary in his trademark suit, walking out to greet a band of adventurers spoiling for some violence. The walls behind him ululate with psychedelic patterns and colours, as does his suit. He eyes their weapons and says,

“That is not the way. Don’t let the Man use you!”

If any PC tries to harm Dr Leary and hits him, there is a flash and they are transformed. Roll 1D6 and apply one of the following results. Read the Leary quote out, then apply the effects without explaining them.

1 “Learning how to operate a soul figures to take time.” PC is turned into a POW ghost.

2 “Science is all metaphor.” All skills and objects become useless, PC can’t tell his arm from his leg, a shield from a canteen.

3 “Philosophy is a performance sport - you have to play it with somebody back and forth.” The PC becomes another Leary facing his erstwhile comrades.

4 “The role of anxiety in the development of human personality is central, and it is intricate beyond our understanding.” The PC must face their most feared monster in a dark pit or on a lonely mountain.

5 “The universe is an intelligence test.” The PC is set adrift floating in the enormity of space, which looks at her with an impassive, uncaring eye.

6 “Think for yourself and question authority.” The PC is warped back to when they were given the quest, but this time from the vantage point of the one that gave it to them.

Of course, the PC can only escape the situation by eschewing violence and seeing things as they truly are, just as Earl Aubec saw the goblins of Myshella’s castle as reflections of his own fears. Players should realize that they must engage with Leary and explain who they are and why they are doing what they have come to do. The GM can either let them pass, or have Leary let himself be symbolically slain.

The metaphor, of course, is that knowing oneself is the only way to truth.

NB: If this is all a bit navel gazey and ‘not D&D enough’, you can substitute with a random creature, but I think your game will be the worse for not trying it if you have some Moorocock fans at the table.

How about them apples?

Sources

https://magpiejewellery.com/pages/first-nations-animal-meanings

Hawkmoon Redux # 2 - How Not To Recreate Hawkmoon

So, in my last Hawkmoon musing, I basically boiled Hawkmoon’s story and attendant Science mechanics down to a narrative of capitalist cult exploitation of natural resources, vs the religious fanaticism of Stormbringer’s demon magic system. Moorcock’s fiction is expansive enough to contain these ideas without him necessarily having consciously written with them in mind.

However, before I dive into the nitty gritty, I want to set out a no-go zone, a dead end that I do not wish to explore. Let’s start by reviewing what I did wrong with Stormbringer.

My Stormbringer Mistake

In my Stormbringer redux project, I often lost sight of how the original game blended mechanics with narrative devices in evocative ways. For instance, the rule that Beggars have 10% in dagger PLUS 1% per extra beggar in the group makes total sense in light of the Nadosokar segment of the Elric saga. I emulated this with my special weapon attacks and troop rules in a good way, I think.

However, I got bogged down in simulationist crunch, such as my encumbrance rules. To be fair, the designers of 4E fell into the same trap when they added extensive powers and calculations for the demon section, and a laundry list of item prices, including canoes. To me, the brevity of the elemental rules worked so much better than the bloated 4E point buy demons, or even the limited random roll of 1E demons. In the same way, my detailed encumbrance rules take away from the mood of the game, but the lack of encumbrance in the original rules also was not a perfect solution.

The Hawkmoon Problem

Hawkmoon has a similar danger - that of filling out Science too much. Just as Stormbringer 4E took too much influence from GURPs and tried to make a point buy demon system that is arguably less compelling than 1Es unfinished rules, Hawkmoon’s Science rules could tempt one to flesh them out with lots of steampunk tech from other games. Imagine Baron Meladius and Hawkmoon dueling with lightsabers, or D’Arvec flying his own starfighter?

Ugh, I think I just threw up in my mouth.

This is not the way I wish to take.

The Way of Hawkmoon

If anything, the Hawkmoon books were closer to Dune than to Star Wars. Just as in Dune the Fremen still use wormtooth daggers because personal shields can’t stop slow weapons, the juxtaposition of Hawkmoon’s high tech (ornithropters, flame lances, and weird cannons to name a few) with the primitive swords and horses used by many combatants gives the series and its setting a unique charm.

I am overdue for a reread of both the Hawkmoon RPG and the novels that inspired it. When (or if, as RL seems trying to stymy me at the moment) I can sit down and do this, I think I’ll be able to tread a fruitful path through Hawkmoon with far fewer missteps than I did with Stormbringer.

The Rule of Cool is Fundamentally Uncool

The other day, I was on Musk’s sinking social media vessel when the following plaintive cry from a friend popped into my feed:

“Thinking about when a player wanted to shoot a guy on stage within an erupting chaotic crowd and I said he was 3 foot tall and was having trouble within the chaos to take the shot, and he passive-aggressively says, “ok well if I don’t have any agency”, and it really pissed me off.”

I felt the pain of a fellow GM who’s been branded the bad guy for following the rules / cashing a reality check, so I replied,

“Yep, I hear you! When they 1) ignore the limitations they chose on the character and 2) ignore reality because they want to be the hero. Galling. I wanna slap anyone who spouts rule of cool. Go play cowboys and injuns with finger guns.”

In my estimation, we play a game with rules so everyone is on an even footing, and within that understandable shared world, we can strive to do great things, even cool things. My friend replied,

“Yeah what annoyed me was this player professed to be quite an experience old school gamer Just kept making assumptions in this lame, condescending, passive aggressive way before I have a chance to explain the reasons why or how there would be a penalty or such, to do the thing.”

Been there, done that. I added my own tale:

“I had a guy hanging off a boat by his fingers, wanted to jump in the air, throw three daggers, then land on the deck backstabbing someone. Me, the older player, and the newbies stared in disbelief. The two modern D&D players were adamant it was doable.”

Some commenters replied that my story was ‘outrageous’. But this schism in expectations is real, and it is connected to The Rule of Cool.

ASK THE EXPERTS

The venerable Jeff Rients explored this mismatch in a post entitled "I want to do something cool Every Round!!!"

“I'm of two minds on this subject. On one hand I like it when game mechanics encourage freaking out, but on the other hand this sometimes feels like a crutch. With a cooperative GM you can buckle swashes without the mechanics holding your hand.”

I agree that mechanics often can’t cover all situations, especially ones that can lead to a cool, out of the box solution. Codifying cool is, in my opinion, asking for trouble.

In a following post, Rients continues,

“Your players are rock stars and they're here to rock your house. In this paradigm your job is to be the roady and the manager and all the other people who make the concert possible. This isn't one of those analogies that can be stretched forever, instead just mediate on the simple fact that your job is to help your players rock out without getting in their way. Everything below builds from this foundation.”

I’ll agree to disagree on that one. I think treating PCs like ‘rock stars’ leads to these outrageous assumptions that players are owed a good time. Also, a good GM does not get in the player’s way, but he or she does remind them of the constraints they are under when they’re trying to be heroic.

Rients rolls on,

“When in doubt, let a player roll some dice - If your Inner Magic 8-Ball isn't giving you anything to work with, sometimes you should pitch things back to the players in the form of requesting a die roll. If you can't make up your mind how to answer a question just break it down to a simple roll, clearly outline the stakes, and have a player roll it. This technique gets at least one player engaged in the game (making it a good thing to drop on an otherwise disengaged player), gets them rolling dice (which all decent right-thinking non-communist players love to do), and gives them ownership over a part of the game that isn't their character (thus empowering the player). And if the die roll yield a result unsatisfying to them, the blow is softened because they had a fair chance to get another result. It's not like you faked some roll behind a screen. Not that I'm against faking rolls behind a screen.”

Now THIS I can agree with Rients on:

1 Propose some risk & reward

2 Explain it clearly

3 Get the player’s assent

4 Roll them bones

However, I’d call this more a rule or procedure to handle creativity, not necessarily cool. 

Let’s get a second opinion. 

CBR.com, a popular stop for pop culture info, has this take on it:

“there's no one official wording on what the "Rule of Cool" is. However, it's most easily summed up this way: if something makes the game more exciting, let it happen. If a player wants to jump off the top of a wizard's tower to ambush an enemy who's hundreds of feet below them, allow it. If they want to throw a sword to cut the rope hanging their fellow party member from the gallows, allow it.”

As for example one, I totally disagree. Here is another flouting of the shared reality / rules that cheapens the experience for all to make one feel special. I’d tell the player they still take fall damage, but can try to kamikaze if they like.

The second example makes much more sense, and I think most GMs would welcome it, then propose a hefty skill penalty or some such all allow the player to roll the bones. CBR.com concurs:

“The decision to allow players to pursue exciting ideas is important, but it's only the first part of using the Rule of Cool. The rest of it pertains to how the rule is implemented. If a player wants to throw their sword, how should a DM resolve it? Thrown weapons in Fifth Edition usually have a specific range for what they can and can't hit, and there isn't one listed for swords (as they aren't thrown weapons). When using the Rule of Cool, it's best to drop fiddly rule considerations like the exact ranges of weapons. DMs need to instead focus on what makes sense for their game. For example, they could have the player make a regular ranged attack as if the target for their thrown sword was within range.”

However, CBR.com then points out how giving players something for nothing can deflate the whole game:

“However, going with a creative idea from a player can have unintended consequences. If players are getting something "for free," it can feel like the rules of the game have become warped. If a sword suddenly becomes a thrown weapon, why is it even necessary for any games to have thrown ranges at all? The key to making the Rule of Cool feel balanced is making sure there are stakes for special rules. If a player is getting something special by throwing their sword, there should also be a potential downside. For example, if they miss when trying to cut their friend down from the noose, they could hit their friend with the sword instead. Making things worse can often be just as exciting as making things better.”

WHO DECIDES WHAT IS COOL?

One of the major issues I see is deciding who is the arbiter of cool. If it is only the GM, he may find his megadungeon, his scenario script book, and his carefully crafted NPCs are cool, but the players certainly won’t. To players, the game is about raiding megadungeons, going off script, and using or abusing NPCs.

If it is only the players, expect them to break every rule in the book and its shared reality because it prevents them from being rock stars. Also, expect them to grow more demanding with every session, and bored if their egos aren't constantly being stoked.

Neither of these options lead to anything cool happening.

To me, EVERYBODY at the table has to agree without prompting “That was cool!” And cool is largely surprising, organic, and something that goes by quickly but is remembered for its awesomeness.

THE RIDDLE OF COOL

If everything is made cool, then very quickly nothing is cool. Fonzie was cool, jumping a shark makes you say “Cool”, but Fonzie jumping a shark? It has become the definition of uncool, of when a TV show formerly agreed on as cool loses that appellation.

Conversely, Seinfeld was an uncool, flailing show until the episode ‘The Outing’, in which Jerry and George have to face rumours they were gay. This mirrored accusations Jerry Seinfeld faced in real life, and which had previously been met in Hollywood by the decidedly uncool reaction of people like Rock Hudson denying both homosexuality and decrying gayness as ‘disgusting.’

Seinfeld turned that on its head with the rallying cry of “Not that there’s anything wrong with that!”, exposing both the cruelty of denying peoples' true nature and the hypocrisy of accepting it while distancing yourself from accusations. All characters in the episode say this phrase so often that it became a pop cultural portmanteau, and the episode itself both garnered the highest ratings to date, it won several awards, and marked Seinfeld’s ascension to cultural phenomenon.

Now THAT was cool, Jerry!

WE DON’T NEED NO STINKIN’ (EXTRA) RULES

The irony is that the more you try to make cool a ‘rule’ or codify it, the more such efforts fall flat on their face. Players become prima donnas trying everything under the sun to ‘win’ unwinnable games, ultimately boring themselves and the GM at their ceaseless attempts to be cool.

It reminds me of the RPG Awesome!, which lampoons this situation. Here is its description:

Awesome! The Storytelling Game

Keywords: universal rules-lite

A storytelling game with a Director and set of player, that uses a single stat ("Awesome!") that starts at 20. A player takes a turn narrating, and the other players vote thumbs up or down. If the result is mixed, the player rolls 1d20 for their new Awesome score. If it is higher than their old score, their narration turn ends. There are additional rules for Signature Schticks, Tagging Out, and Weaknesses. 7 pages rules (PDF).

So what is cool then? Let me tell you a story.

Once upon a time, I ran a game of the venerable Call of Cthulhu, on the surface a game very far from cool actions. There are no feats, magic drives you mad, and combat is suicidal.

During one scene, two characters, a tommygun-toting gangster and a pistol-sporting professor, are staking out a cultist. Our protagonists are hiding in the tool shed of a cemetery where their target is currently doing some minor ceremony on a grave.

Ho hum.

Suddenly, out of the sky an abomination appears, descends upon the cultist, and rips him into shreds in a spray of gore.

Sanity checks. Not cool.

The creature whips its head about to stare at the tool shed, then bounds toward it.

Uncool. The professor hides in the back, while the gangster opens up with his SMG.

CLICK! A zero and a zero. The gun is hopelessly jammed.

This ain’t cool, man!

The gangster shouts at the professor, “THROW ME YOUR PIECE, PROFESSOR!”

The tension ratchets up. Everyone at the table imagines the scene in slowmotion, like the baby carriage shootout scene in The Untouchables.

The prof’s throw roll - check!

The gangster’s catch roll - check!

Next round, our deft gangster empties the clip of the Browning submachine pistol into the slavering beast sticking its head into the shed door.

Critical hit. The abomination slumps to the ground, dead.

“That was fuckin awesome!”

“Cool man!”

“Holy shit!”

When something cool happens, you’ll know it. Like the lightning in a bottle of D&D itself, the more you try to codify and contain it, the more you kill the magic.

And that ain’t cool, man.

NB: Geek related seem to have beaten me to the punch with some very good thoughts

https://geek-related.com/2009/01/06/why-the-rule-of-cool-is-not-cool/

Sources

CBR.com

https://www.cbr.com/dnd-rule-of-cool-best-house-rule/#:~:text=As%20such%2C%20there's%20no%20one,feet%20below%20them%2C%20allow%20it.

John Rients’ blog

http://jrients.blogspot.com/2006/09/how-to-awesome-up-your-players.html

Free RPG List

https://www.darkshire.net/jhkim/rpg/freerpgs/bykeyword/rules-lite.html