You Had One Job

Last year I played in a Delta Green game where a scientist PC failed something like three consecutive rolls that were solidly in their character’s wheelhouse. They had something like an 80%+ chance to succeed, and beefed it each time. The GM did what they could to soften the blow, and the player was a good sport about it, but it was surely a little frustrating; especially because it was a short campaign, with just a handful of sessions, so each character only had a limited time in the spotlight.

It seems like skill-based games (whether percentile or d20) always struggle with some of this (although I have not myself run Delta Green; so what follows is general advice, not DG-specific). Some games can include a meta currency to ensure a success, or otherwise subvert the capriciousness of the dice. But it’s hard to completely escape the feel-bad vibes when the dice push back strongly against narrative expectations.

The best time to fix this problem is before the dice are rolled. In D&D, where the application of skills is almost always subordinate to the discretion of the DM, I practice pausing before calling for a roll and asking myself “would it make the most sense for the character to simply succeed at this?” This is a no-brainer for many experienced GMs; but I had to work to learn it, so there must be a lot of people out there who know nothing about this procedure. If I can share this with at least a few people who were once like me, and simply don’t know, I will be well pleased.

It Just Works

Running D&D 5E years ago, I called for a dexterity (acrobatics) check with a modest DC, as several PCs tried to hurdle over a barricade during the thick of combat. When it was the monk’s turn to try, something in my brain clicked, and I thought “it would undermine what we know about the characters and the situation for this character to fail at this particular task.” So I simply ruled that the monk would succeed without a roll.

Other instances followed logically. The ranger, tracking ordinary quarry in normal conditions, simply succeeds. The cleric with a low intelligence score doesn’t need to roll the intelligence (religion) check to answer a common question of doctrine; they simply know.

This form of adjudication also solves the common verisimilitude “problem” of the wizard with 8 strength succeeding in knocking down a door after the barbarian with 18 strength fails… which is only a “problem” because D&D 5E teaches DMs to blindly follow a skill resolution procedure, rather than adjudicating the action based on a common-sense understanding of the situation.

OK, this is probably a no-brainer for someone familiar with FKR games or other diceless adjudication systems. But I would expect the median RPG player, who comes up through D&D 5E or another popular system, is going to find it quite radical. 

The “One Job” Troupe Game

Thinking about this prompted an idea that is really not an original idea at all, just a restatement of what is already implicit in the “it just works without a roll” guidelines included in many good games.

A class, background, or job does not gate off certain skills. It merely distinguishes between the characters who must risk the dice to do something, and those who can simply do it. The scientist still must roll the dice to shoot a gun, climb a wall, or hide from the monster. But they don’t have to roll to do the science, unless the circumstances are highly dangerous or unusual. 

This concept really shines in a game focused on troupe play, where players are considering which of several characters they should bring to a session, rather than signing up for one type of character and playing that single character for the whole game. Choosing the right character with the right background or job for the present situation defines the stuff they’re going to be able to do without depending on the dice.

Your PC with the “fishing boat captain” background is perfect for exploring the haunted coastline. They can navigate and explore the channels and inlets of the sea without a single check. But if they have to argue before a congressional subcommittee for the passage of the Ghost Fish Preservation Act, they’re going to be rolling the dice, because public speaking and legislative advocacy is well outside their skillset. Would you have rather played your lobbyist this session, and rolled the dice while exploring on the boat? It creates interesting decisions.