True. Though, the commonality of the problem shows up with just the anecdotal examples in this and the other fudging discussion right here- notice the massive outcry against “bad GMing” without fudging- that’s a big sign that most people are not dealing with broken blinds, as much as a hole in the side of their house

Chris

I agree with you, with a couple of caveats.

1. Priorities – some people would say they have “fixed the problem”, in that without the fudge they don’t enjoy their game but with the fudge they now do. Granted, that only works as an answer by ignoring your point, but if they always game with the same group and they always have fun, they don’t care about your point. Such people will answer you that they have better things to do with their time (e.g. work on the setting).

2. Consistency – some people will say that if the problems causing the need for fudge were consistent, then they would fix it. But the problems are erratic (from their viewpoint).

If a guy gets up every morning and moves to the couch because the sun comes through his broken blinds, you’d ask him why he did not fix them. If a guy hangs a towel over one corner of the blinds three days a year when he sleeps late, he may think you crazy for asking the question.

CJ

I was responding to Martin’s post, when he commented that DitV’s way of setting up stakes isn’t the same as D&D’s set up of stakes.

And yeah, I understand -why- people do it. I still disagree with it because it fundamentally is turning a blind eye to a consistant problem instead of fixing it. Which is why right now, the general expectation for play is “It depends on who you play with” because the real fun in a game depends on how well someone can selectively ignore the rules to get the game you really want.

Chris

Chris’s blog doesn’t have trackback, but his 9/7 post “Ammo as a keystone” explains what he’s directing comment #31 at. It’s good stuff.

CJ points out also that in many RPGs there are two types of rolls. The first is resolution rolls (combat for example), the other is GM direction rolls (encounter tables for example). Changing or ignoring the results of a directional roll is perceived very differently than ignoring the results of a resolution roll. Many times on a direction roll, the GM will set the stakes ahead of time. If the GM isn’t sure if he wants the next encounter to be a dragon or a troll, he’ll make up some distribution in his head and roll. Now after rolling “troll”, he might decide the encounter was a “dragon” afterall. What happened here? Is this “changing the rules? No, what happened is that the GM really wanted to have a dragon, but for some reason wasn’t quite confident in his decision. So he rolled some dice, and then when they didn’t come up the way he wanted, he realized that he really did want that. Have you ever seen someone do just the same in a restaurant – flip a coin, and then decide on the other entree?

Frank

OTOH, I have put a great deal of work into rules (and skills and habits) that make this work without turning my game into a character killing machine. And I happen (for several reasons) to dislike games where any particular PC is required for the plot to advance. (So my campaigns are not destroyed, for example, if the PC heir to the throne is killed.)

But specifically as to breaking the rules to make them palatable, I don’t think it is quite that extreme where most fudging DMs are concerned. It is more of a cost/benefit analysis, 80/20 rule kind of thing. Consider the generally reviled (if unfairly) “wandering monster table”, for example:

You download a decent little free adventure that includes a “Dark Wood” where every hour it says you roll d20. 1-4 are various and diverse encounters. 5+ is no encounter. For most people, this will not stand. They think, perhaps, that a streak of 3′s should not lead to several owlbear encounters in a row. Or it is pretty cheesy to reuse the same “bandit lair” more than once.

There are many such objections. All can be anticipated and tweaked. You can even pick all the encounters ahead of time. Or you can just roll, only stepping in if the rolls start to make no sense. This highlights a distinction between fudge and what I call “helping the DM decide” rolls. On the surface, the DM squashing three consecutive owlbears encounters looks like fudge. If he is nullifying the result to save the party, then it is. If he is nullifying the result as a simple way to correct deficiencies, it was an implicit, “I’m gonna roll, but modify the description of encounter #3 to say that it can only occur once per day.” Some DM’s only figure this out after they roll.

With rolls on the table, in combat, you don’t have this option–which I guess is the related point of Martin’s other topic. If someone is in the habit of rolling before they consider whether all possible results can stand, they don’t have much choice in combat but to fudge (or live with results they do not want).

To make following the rules palatable- we have to break the rules…

That is a great thread, and quite relevant to the discussion here — thanks for pointing it out!

(Frank) That’s certainly a good attitude to take, however, it’s not really compatible with something like D&D combat where the players don’t define the stakes.

I agree. That’s one of the main reasons why I think discussing something like fudging rolls is relevant for a lot of gamers — because most games aren’t set up the that DitV (for example) is set up.

Jerome, it sounds like you have a pretty good handle on what makes your group tick, and how to keep things fun for everyone.

(Jerome) Immersion – even if everyone knows that the DM is going to gleefully fudge as he thinks merited, the players don’t want to be reminded of it while the action is hot.

I hadn’t looked at it that way, but I think you’re right: even if the immersion isn’t really illusionism, but something more general — immersion in the moment, in the heat of the game — who wants to be taken out of that moment?

1. Immersion – even if everyone knows that the DM is going to gleefully fudge as he thinks merited, the players don’t want to be reminded of it while the action is hot. That is certainly a part of the illusionist techinique, as Frank said. However, I think it also overlaps with general immersion in the moment–the same way you don’t really want to have a 10 minute rules discussion while fighting the climatic battle.

2. Rules Complexity/Balance/Elegance versus Desired Results – if a simple, elegant rule covers 95%+ of the situations with results you find pleasing, then it might not be seen as “fun” to fix the rules. Sometimes, simple house rules grow into gross parodies of the original, “flawed” rule. Naturally, it is “more fun” to fudge the bad outcomes than deal with the gross parody. Since not all gamers enjoy precise rules surgery to come up with a good house rule, some will find the occasional fudge a reasonable alterative. This is only indirectly “extra fun”, as compared to the perceived alternative, but substantial nonetheless.

Per my three categories of fudge above, I’d say that the Embracer probably cares more about the Immersion effects from fudge, and the Minimalist cares more about rules proliferation. (Talk about a generalization, though!) The Embracer thus sees fudge as a tool. Who doesn’t want more immersion? The Minimalist thus sees fudge as a “necessary evil”, since if he had a good house rule, he would use that instead. Given that perfection is never achieved in any human activity, they both have a claim.

Martin wondered if there might be two categories within what I called the Fudge Embracer. I am not sure. I guess I see the three categories as embodying two different decisions:

1. DM sees fudge as a negative, and thus seeks to use it as little as possible, versus the DM sees it as neutral as a hammer driving a nail. The Minimalist and the Zeroist are on the first side, with the Embracer seeing the Zeroist as only a more extreme version of the Minimalist.

2. DM would rather fudge than tinker with the rules, versus the opposite. Clearly, the Zeroist is driven by something to tinker with the rules while the other two are reconciled to the alternative.

If the Embracer is more properly split into two categories, it probably relates to the immersion factor above. On the far side of Embracer, you might have a group that has gone beyond seeing fudge as a mere neutral tool. The fudge itself is viewed as a positive–above and beyond whatever positive results it contributes as a tool. I suspect that such a DM is the type that will gleefully “fudge out” perfectly good rules (that he keeps on other occasions), as he sees fits. I’m at a loss for a good descriptive name for such a DM.

Note that all of this discussion is highly dependent on the players. For example, my players are not power gamers or rules mechanics (not even in the good sense). They are generally good at separating character/player knowledge. However, if they have a characteristic flaw as a group, it is that they will attempt to “game the DM” instead of react to the situation. Because of this, Zero Fudge is actually far more immersive than anything else! The more I fudged, the more they tried to “game” me. Once I removed the incentive to game me, they quit trying. Since I happen to enjoy tinkering with rules to get them exactly the way I want, that’s a win/win for our group.

CJ

When I used to fudge, I perceived the “extra” fun in not letting the characters die, and it seemed like I wass cheating, so hiding it seemed to be the best way. The whole bit is rooted in the drive to illusionism. And of course fudging is an illusionist technique.

If you don’t want X to happen, then don’t define the stakes with X as one of the outcomes.

That’s certainly a good attitude to take, however, it’s not really compatible with something like D&D combat where the players don’t define the stakes. Where it is applicable is that the GM should not say “You can do that if you roll a 20.” if he isn’t willing to let it happen on a 20.

Frank

As I first asked, where is the “extra” fun in hiding it from the players?

Aside from that, there’s a a great thread on the Forge about Dogs in the Vineyard on a related topic, where Ron points out:

If you don’t want X to happen, then don’t define the stakes with X as one of the outcomes.

Which points to my other concept, of just not leaving it open for the dice in the first place- thereby avoiding the need to fudge.

I guess as long as the players know what’s up, there may not be dishonesty, but somehow I still read some dishonesty there. Rolls are being made in the open which implies transparency, and true, the rolls themselves aren’t being fudged, but still the fudging in the background is making those rolls not transparent (and in fact is making the players rolls non-transparent if the fudge is to trim a few HP here and there from the monsters).

I guess my point is that everyone may agree that the fudging is a good idea, but the lack of transparency makes it seem somehow dishonest to me. And I have to say this is quite a shift in thinking for me, I used to be quite a fudger.

Perhaps it was thinking about the situation I described above where the entire encounter was semi-transparent (I don’t yet roll openly), but instead of my fudging behind the scene, as a group we discussed how that encounter just plain wasn’t fun because the creature’s CR appeared to be way too low (I’ll grant the possibility that an iconic D&D party might have done better than our AE party – though I have my doubts, the AE party had more easily available flight than the iconic party would [where the 6th level spellcaster might have fly prepared, more likely not - whereas we had a Spryte and a Dracha, both able to fly] – on the other hand, the iconic rogue would have been severely cramped by losing sneak attack, which our AE party did not have). So instead of my unilateral decision that the encounter wasn’t fun, and instead of fudging it so the PCs won instead of all but the spryte becoming compost, we just agreed it was a bad dream.

Frank