Sunday, November 1, 2026

Game Mechanics Are About Feel, Not Function

I think what makes a game mechanic work is not that it's functional or logical, rather, it's how it feels to the participants when playing with it. Let's look at HP for example. What is HP but your margin of error? More HP, more margin of error. Less HP... You get it. 

Once you have the realization that HP is your margin of error, you might ask yourself how much HP is too little, too much, or just right? One odd question you might ask yourself is what else can be treated as a margin of error? This is where game mechanics get creative. A game called Crown and Skull doesn't have HP. Instead, your skills temporarily go down from hits. This represents how your characters wounds and injuries affect them. When players take a hit, players get to decide which skill gets diminished, and so players have some say in the narrative, and the game doesn't have to burden the GM with everything.

So, for instance, let's say sword is a skill and your sword skill is 5. You get hit, you lower it to 4. When all your skills are 0, this represents an accumulation of wounds that finally end you. When you get an opportunity to improve a skill, you're also improving your toughness in a manner like HP. Sounds logical, right?

With game mechanics and systems, what I'm concerned with is not how they work, but how they feel. Does the game feel fun, does the game feels tense, or does it feel like too much bookkeeping. Does the mechanic make me overthink the concept to the extent that its distracting?

Importantly, would I rather be using another or a simpler mechanic?

So, let's say I had a game where gold replaces HP. The first thing I ask is what sense does that make? What if characters had magic hour glasses. The hour glasses turn gold and golden treasure into gold dust. The gold dust drains away at a rate of one gold piece per day. If you run out of gold dust, you die. The magic of the hourglass makes you indestructible, but in exchange it takes gold away when you should be hurt. In effect, your life is dependent on gold. The scarcity of gold is what makes the game tense. Too much gold, no tension. No tension means you have a boring game. Too little gold, players become too risk averse, and the game is too stressful.

From the GM side, the tracking and allocating of gold becomes a major function. It sounds like finding the goldilocks zone is really, really challenging and once players discover the formula, does that spoil the illusion of the game? How do you feel like you improve? By being able to carry more gold than before?

I think the reason why HP or health is so ubiquitous is it’s ease of use which comes from its intuitiveness, in spite of its other problems like being an over-abstraction of damage and healing. And also, taking a hit and subtracting HP feels better than taking a hit and subtracting skills or items or money or armor. Even though gold as HP basically eliminates the need to spend gold on healing items and other supplies, and skills as HP eliminates a need for a wounds and injuries system, at the end of the day, HP feels better than other mechanics, probably because it's familiar, simple, and easy to visualize.

There are different ways to do HP. In D&D for instance, HP models luck, skill, and fatigue as a buffer until 0 HP which implies a single, serious wound has KO'ed you and threatens your life. You can sleep off a major fall or massive beating. Because it's an easily relishable resource, it has less value. Because you can have 10 HP at level 1 and 100 HP at level 10, it doesn't objectively describe or model actual harm in the world. D&D 5e makes HP feel like a cartoon character or cinematic action hero getting beat up. It makes combat feel like a sport or a game to live out a power fantasy. It's intended to be fun. The opposite is GURPS which explicitly describes HP as a measure of your body's capacity for injury. There is a low HP cap. If you take a massive hit, you roll for shock and knock down. If your HP drops to 0, you roll against incapacitation and death. GURPS makes HP loss feel like sustaining actual harm, and it makes combat feel deadly and frightening, and consequences can last.

GURPS HP inspired Bright-Dark 3d6 HP, not D&D HP. Bright-Dark 3d6 uses low HP to keep tension high and consequences meaningful.

If you're going to create or critique a game, I want you to think in terms of what do the mechanics model, how do game mechanics feel, and how do all the mechanics feel when used together. That's important because the way a game feels is ultimately why people play it. If it feels good, they play it and they enjoy playing it. If it feels bad and they're still playing it, are they enjoying it? What do they enjoy about it? How much enjoyment are they getting, and is it worth the parts they don't enjoy? The way a game feels is part of the value of the game to the participants.

But also remember that everyone has their own kind of fun; see also: Types of Fun (MDA Framework)

Saturday, October 31, 2026

D&D 5e Runs on DM Judgment: A Guide to Adjudication

First, what is adjudication? To adjudicate means to judge or to make a decision about a situation. You take contextual information from the situation, you apply rules and subject knowledge, and you make a ruling. You decide what happens and how it happens. This is one of the roles of the game master (GM) or dungeon master (DM) that is misunderstood by new people (and sometimes not so new people). Today, I'm going to teach you to adjudicate your pretend games.

I'm going to assume everyone is playing D&D 5e and I'm going to be referencing the 2014 version a lot, but this advice should apply to all TTRPGs. Before we get into adjudication, first let's discuss two different ways to interpret the rules. One is called Rules as Written (RAW) and the other is called Rules as Intended (RAI). Discussing and understand these two interpretations is valuable because it means we'll all be on the same page.


Rules as Written (RAW)
Rules as written (RAW) is an interpretation of the rules as literal.

In the PHB, the section for Ability Checks reads "the DM calls for an ability check when a character...attempts an action that has a chance of failure." This is a description of a rule.

Some DMs extrapolate rules as written to mean that this is how the game is played; that any time there is a chance of failure, an ability check is required. Note that rules in the Player's Handbook (PHB) are often written to be referential not instructional, meaning a rule describes how it works, not how the game is played. How a rule works and how the game is played mean two different things.

We know that the DM has to make a decision about whether or not a roll is needed. Instructions for that are not provided in the PHB, they're in the Dungeon Master's Guide (DMG) instead. I hope to show you that the DMG teaches judgment, not procedure.


Rules as Intended (RAI)
Rules as intended means the game's author has an intent other than a straight reading and literal interpretation of a rule. In other words, the author intends that DMs understand how the rule works and decide when and how to use them, or not to use them.

Class, please open your D&D 5e 2014 Dungeon Master's Guides to page 236 and read the section The Role of the Dice.

  • Quote: "Dice are neutral arbiters...The extent to which you use them is entirely up to you."

This is the game's official instruction to DMs on when and how to use dice. Keep this quote in mind for a few more paragraphs.

This section of the DMG has three subsections: Rolling With It, Ignoring The Dice, and The Middle Path. They describe three different styles for running D&D where you roll for everything, roll for almost nothing, or roll somewhere in the middle. All styles are permitted by the official core rule book.

My favorite passage comes from Ignoring the Dice.
  • Quote: "Some DM's use them (the dice) only during combat and determine success or failure as they like in other situations."

If you're reading the rules RAW, these two quotes together should recontextualize everything in the core rules for you. In case you missed it, let me explain what the official DM instructions permits in D&D 5e (2014 version). Ahem. The DM decides when checks are needed.

The section of the DMG I have shared with you, The Role of the Dice, reveals the intention of the author:

Your preferred implementation of the rules is permitted.


The DM's Criteria
Now that we're all on the same page about RAW and RAI, we can talk about adjudication. Adjudication is not rules mastery; it's applying common sense to the fiction of the game. By what criteria does a DM use to make rulings? From the section Using Ability Scores on page 237 of DMG:
  • Quote: "Only call for a roll if there are meaningful consequences for failure."

The question then becomes what is a meaningful consequence for failure? The answer is loss of time, resources, opportunity, or immediate harm.

Let me tell you what is not meaningful:
  • Rolling for something free of stress and conflict.
  • If you fail and nothing happens.
  • If you have unlimited chances to re-attempt the action until you succeed.

Therefore, if a player wants to attempt an action, you the DM must determine whether there a consequence of loss or harm. If not, the action succeeds automatically because to call for a roll otherwise trivializes rolling dice and slows down the game. The determination that a player's action is automatically successful is part of your authority as the DM (reference the DMG, page 236-237, subsection The Middle Path.


Example - Lock Picking
Take lock picking for example. To pick a lock in 5e, the books explain that the character makes an ability check and applies their proficiency bonus from the tool (thieves' tools in this case). I call this a tool check for simplicity.

If the player is in a safe, comfortable place and they are attempting to pick a lock (let's say a wooden strong box they found on their last adventure), and they have all the time in the world, they successfully pick it. They just do. No rolling. Why? Because they will eventually get it open.

What if the player is trying to open that same locked strong box in a dungeon with dangerous random encounters? Then every attempt costs time. Lost time in a dungeon means torches burn away, light spells expire (not that this matters in 5e in particular), and there are chances of a wandering monster interrupting the distracted character. The DM can call for a roll here. On a failure, time passes, resources dwindle, danger approaches.


Tangent - What do the Rules Forbid and Permit?
What if the character doesn't have proficiency with a tool?

The way 5e is written, 5e very rarely, almost never states what is not permitted. It almost always states what is permitted. I think this is by design. If so, this is good to know about the books because it helps us understand them better.

If you don't have proficiency, RAW, you simple can't apply the proficiency bonus to an ability check. The rules don't state that lacking proficiency forbids characters from attempting actions or using tools.

The only instance I can find in the core books that forbid a player from attempting an action without the right proficiency is DMG, page 102, under Locked Doors, "...doing so requires thieves' tools and proficiency in their use." This appears to be an inconsistency in the game's instruction and possibly due to an oversight.


How Difficult is an Action
D&D 5e gives DMs instruction about choosing a difficulty class (DC) from pages 238 to 239. Let's look at some.
  • Quote: "It's your (the DM's) job to choose a difficulty class for an ability check or saving throw when a rule or adventure doesn't give you one. Sometimes you'll want to change such established DCs."

I read this to mean that the GM may always choose the difficulty class when they believe it's appropriate. If you're running a published adventure or a monster from the monster manual, you may change an established DC.

  • Quote: "Think of how difficult a task is and then pick the associated DC from the Typical DCs table."

This means the DM decides how difficult a task is, and DMs do so using a scale that the game gives:
  • Very Easy (DC 5)
  • Easy (DC 10)
  • Moderate (DC 15)
  • Hard (DC 20)
  • Very Hard (DC 25)
  • Nearly Impossible (DC 30)
The DMG is written like it's advising you to pick a word, not a number. It says "...think of how difficult a task is, and then pick the associated DC from the...table." The number is associated with the word. It tells you your game can be completely functional if you stick with Easy (10), Medium (15), Hard (20).


Objective vs Subjective Difficulty?
Objective difficulty means standardizing DCs for everything with the expectation that the DM is intended to use them. Subjective difficulty means that the difficulty is subjective to an individual's feeling or belief. As previously discussed, the DM chooses DCs when none are provided, and the DM may change a DC established by an adventure or rule.

When you choose a DC when there is none, you are evaluating the action yourself. When you evaluate an established DC, you may change it. The game trusts you and gives you the authority to do this.


Changing Established Game Content
Remember my tangent about how D&D 5e is written to be permissive rather than restrictive?

Page 6 of the Monster Manual has a sidebar that reads "Feel free to tweak an existing creature to make it something more useful to you." Then it refers you to the DMG. Page 273 on the DMG has a Section Creating a Monster and a subsection Modifying a Monster.

You're given guidance here, but no restrictions. The pattern in 5e is that the books repeatedly give guidance, examples, and procedures, but then returns authority to the DM.

This should go without saying, but the author's intent is not anything goes. Remember RAI? The DMG reminds you that changes to statistics change the monster's CR. The game still intends for you to adhere to their Challenge Ratings (CR) system. It gives you tables and explanations to understand the design logic of D&D 5e.


If You Fail, Do You Fail Forever?
Can players repeat failed actions? Short answer: Some but not all.

DMG, page 237, under Ability Checks, ability checks are defined as a test to determine whether a character succeeds at a task. That's it. One task. In fact, this section of the DMG explicitly tells you that players can repeat a task, and to save table time, you can assume that a player who spends ten times as long on the task automatically succeeds.

Note that this portion of the book resolves some situation in your game where players want to repeat checks ad nauseum. This works for things like picking locks or tying knots unless the character is in a rush, under pressure, or in danger.

This section of the DMG also says that no amount of repeated checks can turn an impossible task into a possible task, and, in some cases, failing a check makes it impossible to make the same check to do the same thing. It also says that you can decide if initial failure makes repeated checks more difficult.

How do you know which checks can't be repeated?

Short answer: DM judgment.

How do you judge this? Consider that this is not just a game, it's also a fiction and a setting. Ask yourself what makes sense within the fiction and the setting?

Let's say a player wants to pick a lock in a dungeon. As already discussed, you may call for a roll. If you fail to pick a lock in real life, you simply fail. The lock doesn't break. Neither does the tool. This action can be repeated.

Let's say a player wants to disarm a trap in a dungeon. On a failure, the trap springs. That means the player logically gets one try. The action cannot be repeated unless the trap is reset and needs to disarmed again.

Were you to tell a player no they can't repeat an action, consider you justification. Would you tell them that they can't repeat an action because it's already been done? What changed that prevents them from repeating it? Would you tell them "that's the way the game is played." That justification would be arbitrary and contrived, and the player would justifiably not be satisfied by this ruling.

How about making a knowledge check? Note that the PHB uses the word "recall" rather than "possess" in the descriptions of knowledge skills (arcana, history, nature, religion). Meaning we roll int (knowledge) checks to determine if a character recalls knowledge, not whether a character possesses knowledge. This allows for a possibility that any knowledge can be possessed by any player character, but success of recall varies.

The definition of an ability check (DMG page 237) is for a task, therefore recalling knowledge is a task. I would rule that knowledge is one of those cases where failing a check makes it impossible to make the same check to do the same thing as previously discussed. In other words, failing a knowledge check means you can't recall the knowledge until you try something different or something within the fiction changes. Maybe you hear a new rumor or piece of lore and you can justify "maybe this jogs my memory. I try to recall knowledge." That works for me.

How about for repeated speech checks? Read your DMG pages 244-245.
  • Quote: "Once a charisma check has been made, further attempts might be fruitless or run the risk of upsetting...the subject creature potentially shifting its attitude...Use your best judgement."
I think that portion "Use your best judgement" is the game giving you its trust.


Is the Character Aware That They Failed?
Have you had this experience? "I roll stealth. Uh oh, natural 1. Guess I'm detected!"

First, that is called metagame thinking or metagaming. The player is aware of the concept of an ability check, a die roll, and a natural 1, but the character isn't. Reference DMG page 235 Metagame Thinking. 

Second, when / how does the character become aware that they failed a task? I would also like to point out that page 237 of the DMG defines ability checks as a means to determine success or failure for a task. This definition does not state whether or not the character is aware of success or failure.

So how does a character know if / when they failed (if it's not obvious)? 

We're talking about the moment in the game when the outcome of a task is revealed. 

Option 1. One preferred way to handle this is to hide the rolls from the players; The character finds out when the player finds out. Make a roll when the player declares an action and save that roll for when (or if) it's needed.

Option 2. Consider this: As a DM you don't just decide whether a roll is needed for a task, but also what moment during the game to call for a roll. If a player says "I sneak", you don't have to call for a roll until there's someone or something that can perceive the player character. Then either call for an opposed roll (stealth vs perception), call for a stealth roll vs a DC, or use passive skills, or whatever.

When the failed roll becomes relevant within the game, then you reveal consequences. That's how the character finds out (if the result is not obvious).


Deciding Consequences
The game does not prescribe consequences (outcomes) for success or failure of every action. Sometimes failure means failure, but what happens on a failure is based on the context of that moment in your game. The consequences ought to be what would logically happen on a success for failure within the context of the fiction or setting.

Avoid punitive consequences or gotcha's.

Page 174 of the PHB, the last sentence under Ability Checks reads "...failure, which means the character...makes no progress towards the objective or makes progress combined with a setback determined by the GM."

Did you miss it? RAW, failing an ability check doesn't automatically mean nothing happens or that no progress is made.

Page 242 of the DMG, under Resolution and Consequences, it reads "You (the DM) determine the consequences of attack rolls, ability checks, and saving throws. In most cases, doing so is straightforward...As a DM, you have a variety of...approaches...to make things less black and white." It then lists several options:
  • Success at a Cost
  • Degrees of Failure
  • Critical Success or Failure
These is a core rule, not an optional one, not a variant. I've never played with these rules. I've never heard anyone talk about degrees of failure or succeeding at a cost in 5e. It's very oddly overlooked in discussion about D&D 5e.


Trusting the DM - DM Resolutions and Descriptions
The GM is supposed to be fair, neutral, and consistent. You're not going easy on the players or making the game difficult for them. Arbitrary, contrived, inconsistent, or capricious rulings diminish trust in the GM.  

Once you decide how to resolve an action, you describe it. Your DM descriptions are your players feedback about their actions in the world. DM descriptions need to be objective and clear. If success or failure is supposed to be a mystery until the consequences are revealed, that's fine if it's understood; otherwise, the DMs descriptions should not be ambiguous. "The knot is secure" or "The knot is loose", not "The knot looks good to you" or "You think the knot is secure". Ambiguous descriptions lead to players attempting to repeat actions just to make sure they're safe. Ambiguous descriptions lead to players being suspicious of DM descriptions. That's not cooperative or collaborative play.


Conclusion
Many new DMs approach the game as though the books are trying to provide complete procedures for every situation; however, D&D 5e expects DMs to exercise judgment far more often than they may realize. Honestly, I don't think D&D 5e is beginner friendly, but hopefully you now know that the rules and dice do not determine the game, the GM determines the game with the rules and dice as tools. The rules do not replace the DM's judgment, they support it.

I spent about 10 hours on this post. After writing a game of my own (Bright Dark 3d6 Role-Playing Game), I have a new appreciation for the amount of work that goes into writing a rule book, and by writing this post, I have a newfound respect for the 5e designers and the 5e game itself.


Related: If you're interested in reading more rules that might change the way you think about D&D 5e, I wrote The Authority of the GM / DM which lists many rules across the three core rule books with an explanation or interpretation.

Friday, October 30, 2026

We Can Be Heroes - Index Card RPG

One of my favorite lines from any TTRPG book I've ever read is "We can be heroes!" This is the first subheading in the player's guide section on page 21 of the Master's Edition. The reason why this stands out in my memory is because one of my main sources of disappointment in TTRPGs is that many players want to play chaotic stupid @ssholes, and many game masters are permissive or supportive of their choice to do it.

By the way, just because D&D has all nine alignments and no rules about permitting them or restricting them, that doesn't mean GMs can't impose restrictions. You should!

I don't want to be an evil character, I don't want to play with other players playing evil PCs, and I don't want to make a character who would associate with evil characters. I don't want to run a game for evil player characters. Evil or chaotic player characters is not what interests me about this hobby. I want to be a hero, and I want heroic stories.

Index Card RPG is one of my favorite TTRPGs. If I could only have one TTRPG, I think it would be this one. My hesitation is that the book has a lot of stuff I don't want to use, like charisma or certain fantasy races, but because it's in the book, players may expect to be allowed to use it. Managing expectations is one of the hardest things to do, especially when the tone you want is heroic.

Someone please sell a TTRPG book that says "we can be heroes", but make it a central theme of the game.

In the meantime, here's my proposed solution for GMs. Ahem. Tell players when you pitch the game or send them the invite, “I am running a game for heroic characters. If you don't think you would have fun playing a heroic character, this game isn't for you." Add some softener to the end of that as you please. This explanation is firm but not harsh, and it respects people's time. They don't have to read between the lines to figure out what you're trying to tell them, and they don't smell an opportunity to bend the rules or negotiate. You're also protecting the tone which is easy to spoil.

Related posts:
And if you want a game that's all about tone, click here: Bright-Dark 3d6 Role-Playing Game