Playing Scrabble for keeps

So I've been hooked on Word Play, the Scrabble-based roguelite.

I play some video games here and there, and when I find one I really enjoy, I try to squeeze out all of its challenge juice (technical term). That usually means at least getting all the achievements.

As a result, when it comes to Word Play I have been putting far too many hours into beating Ultramarathon mode specifically: 20 rounds at the most difficult scoring.

Here's how I finally beat it.

(Roguelite players will be completely unsurprised to hear that this did not involve me being particularly good at Scrabble.)

 

Cracking open this game like an egg

It's all about synergies, of course, which means you need luck plus strategy. This run had the 'more rare and legendary modifiers' modifier, and I just doubled down on the first synergy I saw, which revolved around Upgrades.

My engine is made of modifiers:

➡️ I get a random common Upgrade when I play a word with 8+ tiles.

➡️ Each Upgrade gets +1 use.

➡️ +1 bonus point each time an Upgrade is used.

➡️ I gain a refresh when an Upgrade is used up completely. (This was switched out near the end of the run)

So if I play exclusively long words, I get a bunch of Upgrades, and I get more bonus points on every subsequent word. I also get refreshes (to help me get long words), but I don't use them, because so many of the common Upgrades let you refresh selectively. I quickly build up 40 refreshes and a hundred bonus points per play.

Not crucial to the engine, but I also get a modifier for x2 score with 3+ unplayed special tiles. All the Upgrades are turning my entire bag into a mess of special tiles, so this doubles all my scores without effort.

Finally, I get my first potion tile, an 'M' worth 3 points. Potion tiles give you plays equal to their score, but break, when played. I hoarded this until I lucked out and got my final modifier: if you play a four tile word, add a copy of the first tile to the letter bag.

So now, with my huge numbers of refreshes, I can in principle just refresh until I get my potion M, play it at the start of a four letter word, and have it break but add a copy to the tile bag, for a net +2 plays. This is huge when you start the run with 20 plays and only get a few more per round. So: rinse and repeat, interspersing with long words (to get more Upgrades (to get more refreshes)).

In practise, though, that's slow and unreliable. I didn't end up spending many refreshes getting the potion M out there. Instead, I was careful to have an Upgrade slot open at the end of each round, and at about round 12 I got exactly what I was hoping for: the uncommon Upgrade which adds your refresh count to a tile's score.

You can see where this is going. I used it on my potion M three times, discovering in the process that a tile's score maxes out at 99. Now I gain 99 plays each time I put the potion M at the start of a four-letter word. Over the course of a round I gain more plays than I will ever need.

That's why the little number in the bottom right of the screenshot says "1538", not the "15" or so that you would normally expect.

 

Descent into absurdism

At this point the run is essentially won, so I rejoice, but it will clearly be a slog. Even with most of my tiles turned emerald or golden with the bounty of Upgrades, I only get something like 800 points per play with a long word, so I'm going to need to play 100 good words in the final couple of rounds.

Aware of this, I have been burning my essentially-limitless plays rerolling modifiers, and it pays off at the end of round 17. I get the 'multiply final score by number of special tiles' modifier, one of a couple that would reliably boost my scores even further.

So I wave goodbye to 'gain a refresh when an Upgrade is used up', you made all this possible. Now if I spell a word like LAVENDERS, it scores 5936 points. I can and do cruise to the finish in a handful of plays per round.

And that is how I got the hardest achievement in this damn spelling game.

 

Your mileage may vary

None of this strategy is reliably reproducible, of course, due to randomness. But I think it's interesting that it worked, because it was the first Upgrades-based build which I had tried. Part of that is luck in the early rounds, naturally.

Builds that I tried and failed with, for the record:

➡️ All gold tiles

➡️ Fast-growing diamond tiles

➡️ All the emerald synergies

➡️ Double length points, board expanders, and lots of plus tiles

➡️ Dozens of attempts that never got the smallest synergy.

 

So that's most of the challenge juice squeezed out of Word Play! I recommend this game if you're a Scrabblehead. It's on Steam.

—

Update a few days later: I translated my run into "whoops, all wildcards". 300+ tiles of golden and dotted 99-point wildcards took me to round 50.

 

I spent scores, maybe hundreds of rerolls trying to get the "dotted tiles multiplier increases with each play" modifier which would have given me desperately-needed multiplier scaling, and which could have taken me even further. I never got it, though, so I called it at round 50, where winning just meant typing "******************" over and over again and waiting for the scoring to finish.

 

Reviewn June 2025 part 3: Game books

In which I review the books I read in the first half of 2025

Part three: TTRPGs and game content

 

What games have I checked out in the last six months? Here I'm including published books and files, commercial or free, but not blog posts (which I read too many of).

It's Reviewn June!

 

Tiny Spaceship

An alien exploration to understand Planet Earth 

By Tanya Floaker (https://floaker.itch.io/tiny-spaceship)

A wholesome diceless three-page mini-RPG about a spaceship that's come to visit us, and the dangers it faces (from other players, in the roles of e.g. "a big flock of birds"). Has a beautiful cover by August Charters, and the layout is nice (although it would benefit from a proofread and a looser line spacing).

I appreciate the extensive endnote about inspirations and mechanical sources, and the use of CC0. 

Mechanically this is a collaborative story-building game with simple natural-language rules. The tiny spaceship plays off exploration (drawing attention to itself) against understanding (thereby resolving problems). With the caveat that I haven't yet played this, I would call it story-telling gaming done right: a game at a high level of abstraction should be fuelled by simple, abstract, broadly-interpretable rules. Looks fun.

 

RPG Design Zine 

A how-to zine about tabletop roleplaying game design

By Nathan D. Paoletta (https://ndpdesign.itch.io/rpg-design-zine)

Published 2019, it's 28 pages of quite abstract, but useful, advice. The thesis is "I'm not here to tell you which [design decisions] to make, but I do want you to know why you’re making them." That's largely borne out. The content covers pragmatic approaches to, and implications of, various design angles: articulating inspiration, interplay of structures, roleplaying-as-conversation, iteration, etc.

Overall, the zine doesn't align perfectly with my own conception of TTRPGs, but I found it all the more useful for that. For example, it makes some interesting points about granularity and utility, different to my usual approach of complexity is a cost you pay, and left me with lots to think about.

The scan quality had me squinting a few times. Corrections were made to the physical paper, which adds to the zine aesthetic, but a fair number of typos stayed in. Also, a lack of cite marks on the pasted text might have played well with the aesthetic, but meant the works cited list was less helpful than it could have been.

I'm looking forward to reading the 2025 edition to see how the author's approach has developed.

 

Sinister Hovering Orb

(Sinister Hovering Orb)

By David J Prokopetz / Penguin King Games (https://penguinking.itch.io/sinister-hovering-orb)

A single-page solo mini-RPG (plus title) which interested me because of the complete lack of strictly-flavour text: all the themes, implied goals, and flavour are purely wrapped in game mechanics. We have to learn the game to find out what it is about (to the extent that it can be said to be about something in particular).

For example, the reader discovers in the rules that they have four choices of activity/situation, used variously "when you are simply and suddenly present", "when your very presence brings down calamity", "when those who ponder you know what they must do", and "when you radiate a palpable sense of doom".

There are no player goals, high-level structures, rules about direction, best practises or suggestions to serve as connective tissue: only a series of game elements, presented with a sense of finality. I played a quick game and found it quite a compelling story generator, though a very open-ended one.

PUBLIC GUEST 5

Living With The Certainty of Death by the imminent explosion of our orbiting artificial planet PUBLIC GUEST 5

By Turtlebun (https://turtlebun.itch.io/public-guest-five) 

A solo RPG on a poster, with a delightful visual style. It's about, well, exactly what the subtitle says. It's a sort of journalling game, meant to be played a sentence at a time over the course of a long real-world period (probably about a month on average).

The diary mechanics are very simple, with two dice informing how you spend a week on your doomed world. When you roll boxcars, PUBLIC GUEST 5 explodes. (I broke the rules and played through in a single sitting, for a fairly melancholy experience.)

PUBLIC GUEST 5 and Sinister Floating Orb were interesting diversions. Together they're inspiring part of my approach to some upcoming projects which will explore themes of cosmic doom, inscrutability, inevitability, and loneliness.

Writing With Style

An editor's advice for RPG writers

By Ray Vallese / Rogue Genius Games (https://www.drivethrurpg.com/en/product/217525/writing-with-style-an-editor-s-advice-for-rpg-writers)

A 44-page book of advice for TTRPG writing. It had some tips and reminders I found useful. For someone without a background in technical writing, I bet this book is absolute gold.

There's plenty of generic advice, but plenty is specific to RPGs: sins to avoid (like read-aloud text that dictates the players' choices), lists of RPG-specific overused and confused words, writing to a game publisher's specification, etc. My only criticism is with the visual design: some odd typeface choices and the line spacing is too tight.

Worth the $5 on DriveThruRPG, especially for a new writer.

Dwarf Mine

A mapping game of adventure 

By James Hron / Paper Dice Games (https://paperdicegames.itch.io/dwarf-mine)

Perhaps not strictly an RPG, but a 25-page tabletop exploration game. You play as the location, and instead of levelling up, you add levels further down. It sort of feels like how Dwarf Fortress felt ~20 years ago: one plane, inscrutable dwarf characters, simple mechanics, inevitable doom, etc. But the cutaway is cross-section, not top-down.

There's a points (prestige) system for scoring, and a huge block of random tables. My trial game was quite enjoyable, and I definitely want to come back and give it a more thoughtful treatment.
 

The presentation has some rough edges, with typos, misplaced page references, inconsistent capitalisation, and the font size varying between tables.

A few of the rules could do with a rewrite:

• I'm a bit confused about multiple attacks vs entering combat multiple times, with persistent enemies who attack back.
• The connective geometry is mostly explained by example, not rules. Some of the rules contradict the examples, as in: "The walls of rooms, hallways, and ladders must all have at least a 1x1 square separating them", and also in "Rooms must be built in the orientation shown".
• Goblin invasion mechanics seem underdetermined.
• The appendix leaves the crucial word 'once' off the end of the sentence for Trap room. 

There's lots of neat mechanics, especially with the big monsters. I like that the Cave Wurm can damage the map itself.

The First of the Stone Folk puzzles me. It must be entombed in a 6x6 room – internal dimensions 4x4, so you only need to make 16 squares. Using 21 dwarves per square to minimise deaths, you will lose on average 168 dwarves. But I don't get the impression that total population is ever going to be over 100. Am I off the mark there? Or are you meant to wall this monster off really slowly? 

The dwarf leader ability adds a little more strategy. More inheritance tracking with the 'Bloodline' system would be interesting. I do like the idea of the Achievements list giving all future leaders a title. The room name generator appendix is clever, although wacky; you could get a barracks named "Bottom Watch" or a tomb named "New Trophy".

The author has written lots of official expansions and supporting content to keep the game fresh.

 

GURPS "Discworld Also"

A companion book for the original GURPS Discworld RPG

By Steve Jackson Games, Terry Pratchett, Phil Masters. Generally good, but most of the best stuff made it into the new edition (which I already read, and wrote some reviews for last year). So because I'll focus on the stuff that didn't, this review may sound more negative than I feel!

Sean Murray's illustrations feel quite Discworld-y, sketchy pen/pencil pictures that don't try to rip off Kidby's or Kirby's style. I like them. I'm not a fan of the book's layout, though. There's weird stuff going on with the kerning and text wrap. The column breaks are terribly confusing when there's a subheading (e.g., p 48 reads left to right then top to bottom, but p 49 reads top to bottom then left to right).

It's poorly copyedited for a professional product. For example, on just one page (29) I noticed

• A mangled seven-clause sentence
• "almost" should say "always"
• "could" should say "would"
• "fall off" should say "falling off"
• "unaging" / "ageing" spelling inconsistency
• "They not" should say "They are not"

The alternative troll stats, and the extra information on elfkin and gnolls is good to have. There's a nice robust peasant character template, with various background skills. We get a 'sentient animal' template, a disappointing miss on terminology (it should of course be 'sapient animal').

Translation of Discworld magic is done well. The additions are a bit uninspired, e.g. a magic item which replicates an air conditioner, with maybe a subtle joke about Maxwell's Demon.

The book provides some campaign settings. I mostly already read this content in the new edition GURPS Discworld RPG, with a couple of exceptions: Smarlhanger and Fourecks get more space here.

• Smarlhanger is a frontier boom town in sheep country. It doesn't commit to some details ("there may or may not be changes made", p 86), which is frustrating in a setting guide. Lots of other details to work with though.
• Fourecks cart races is a new subsystem, a spin-off of the GURPS Vehicles rules. The Mad Max pastiche from The Last Continent is fleshed out to a whole societal thing here. (It doesn't say so, but Fourecks definitely has a bunch of ultra-hardwood trees that would be used for the highest tier of armour.)

The book also has three adventures and three 'adventure seeds'. Again, I mostly already saw these in the newer edition. These seem pretty good, barring some vague patches.

'Walking the Spiral' is an adventure with an excellent idea: druids come to look for megaliths in Ankh-Morpork. (I really liked that the mouldering records were in the form of an ancient school essay.) The problem is that the implementation is painfully linear, with very little for the PCs to actually do until the setpiece fight. Especially if the druid emissaries are NPCs. The adventure also implies that the University's NPC wizards are perfectly capable of saving the day by themselves at the end, making this an adventure that doesn't need player involvement at all. The adventure premise is good enough that it's worth rescuing by redoing the structure, though.

Highland Vice

System-neutral Martian cowboy hexcrawl

By Strange Ian (https://ianstrange.itch.io/highland-vice) 

A 'kitchen sink' futuristic setting that meshes well. The concept: Mars has been scarred by poorly-thought out terraforming projects. It's reminiscent of Red Dwarf and Fallout and Futurama and Borderlands and Charles Stross, with extra Tibetan, Mongolian, Peruvian, Japanese, and Weird West elements. The goal is to find and retrieve a chunk of computer megabrain.

A 100-entry hexcrawl in 28 pages. With four hexes per page and system-neutral style, Highland Vice favours high-level terse description over gameplay details.

There's a great density of evocative ideas, which is what I want most out of content like this. An algae plantation heiress hunting with an overtuned laser rifle. The electromagnetic rail launcher used by wire-crowned shamans to send captives into orbit. A buried chest full of mismatched halves of different treasure maps. A hillbilly cyanobacteria moonshine shack guarded by a truck-sized amoeba. A monk riding a solar-powered robot turtle terrarium. An android executive assistant living for years impaled on a mammoth's tusk. A colossal mining engine meditating in the middle of a mountain, trying to free itself from the material. Gauchos duelling over a holographic pop idol in a field of cherry blossom. The primitive town built by a crashed trainload of plush robotic cuddle dolls.

Many of the hexes are linked, but some of the conceptual through-lines could be highlighted. For example, 'satellite shamans' come up in 0006, 0104, 0107, 0307, 0408, etc. If I ran this I'd make a quick setting overview using key concepts as subheadings, and add relevant pointers to/from each hex:

• Satellite shamans
• Teratorns, poebrothers, and other revived megafauna
• Robot prosthetics
• Hive drones 
• Sky bandits
• The Spinal War
• Sindovar
• The Maze 
• Josung (game)
• etc 

Definitely worth a look. It's recently published and free on Itch.
 

In progress

By my quick count, I have six different rulesets and splatbooks bookmarked and partially read. Possibly there's more, lurking in browser tabs or forgotten on the desktop.

I'd like to put some real effort in there. My ambition is that when I next fling reviews together, my "unfinished list" will be completely different!

Reviewn' June 2025 comes to a close.

So how'd I do? I didn't read as much as I hoped, but overall, not bad. For me, reviewing is ultimately about self-accountability, but hopefully you got something out of it.

Pushing the envelope: Deconstructing RPGs

When you push the boundaries of a medium, you tend to reveal interesting things.

A wrong, but illuminating, TTRPG theorypost

In the case of role-playing games, I think there are two very important axioms:

1. players get to make character choices that are meaningful
2. players are deeply constrained as to how they otherwise affect the world

Axiom 1. Players get to make meaningful character choices

By this, I mean their choices must be

real (the outcomes are not faked or predetermined), and

impactful (the outcomes and/or act of deciding matter to the player/character/setting), and

associated (the choices are made as if by the character within the world, not just by the player within the rules), and

plausibly adjudicated (the choices have predictable or at least credible impacts on the imagined world).

Axiom 2. Players are deeply constrained regarding the world

Players impact the world by their character choices, but otherwise have few or no ways to impact the imagined world.

(Most TTRPGs, of course, let a player decide details about the world specifically during character creation, which their character could not possibly have chosen 'in-world'. This is a pretty accepted carve-out, and one of the reasons I say 'deeply constrained'.)

Pushing the TTRPG envelope

Now let's contort these established TTRPG boundaries and principles, to see if anything interesting falls out.

-

We already know what happens when you step back further from Axiom 2 (as part of game design or during play), giving players more options to intervene directly in the world.

You get experiences that are more like collaborative story-telling games, and postmodernish games where the point is to play around with the truth, and eventually you end up with free-form roleplay and expressive world-building.

-

What happens when you deliberately change Axiom 1, making character choices less meaningful?

There are some obvious examples, which tend to be unpleasant, especially in the context of contorting an existing traditionally-designed game.

• If character choices aren't real, you get railroads, which almost nobody likes.
• If character choices aren't impactful, the game (and fiction) has no stakes, which few people like.
• If character choices aren't associated, you're playing something more like a boardgame that has heavy fiction/fluff elements, which some people like, but can be dissonant.
• If character choices aren't plausibly adjudicated, there's little sense in which you're making a 'choice', so you might as well be rolling dice instead, since that's fun.

...But those are mostly the results of taking a role-playing game and 'playing it wrong'.

Designing an experimental game

Challenge: Can we go against the zeitgeist and design games which play with the formula of Axiom 1? Can we push the envelope to deliberately make character choices less meaningful, and still create something compelling?

I can see two things to try.

Less meaningful choice... in pursuit of themes

You could do this deliberately, in an artsy way, to explore certain themes.

Inevitability and the linear nature of time. Doom and futility. Fate and prophecy. Closed-loop time travel. Nihilism.

Less meaningful choice... but more meaning elsewhere

You could shift the focus of the game from meaningful choice to something else, so that there's still something challenging for the player to do.

One possibility is having the player grapple with emotion and feeling, something reactive and exploratory rather than goal-oriented and decision-guided. The obvious pathway for doing this is through journaling games, which often emphasise those aspects more than traditional RPGs (as well as often relaxing Axiom 2).

Combining these ideas into new experimental game designs

I'd like to see a game develop some of those specific themes in parallel with locking down player choice in favour of developing character emotions and feelings (while still being on this side of 'being a roleplaying game').

I'd like to see a choose-your-own-path game set in a world deliberately designed to teach the player that their character's choices fundamentally don't matter in this particular fictional context, and develop an exploration of what that entails (...while still on this side of 'being a game at all').

I'd like to see some hybrid of boardgame and roleplaying game that's not just 'boardgame mechanics under deep layers of fictive fluff', but some other unusual interpolation of the two mediums.

And if I can't find them, maybe I'll make them.

 

One mechanic to fix RPG spellcasting

(Or, well... it's an untested work-in-progress idea for fixing the things that usually irk me about it, personally.)

Magic has to be constrained, obviously, to avoid just having an instant win button that any wizard can press at any time.

Fantasy game designers usually accomplish this by giving spellcasting certain factors:

• Limited uses (in the form of spell slots, power points, consumable resources, etc). Book-keeping, yuk. You also need to stretch to find a good in-world reason for the limits to exist and the character to be aware of them, so immersion doesn't break.
• Spells of different fixed power level. Usually these have to be unlocked. If only one high-level spell has some effect, then you'll never have a lesser magician who has a knack for that one spell, or can even use it. Different fixed power levels pairs with limited uses to have several consequences:
• Even more book-keeping (bleh).
• Spells often just succeed, or have a single opportunity to resist, because it sucks to have a valuable resource just do nothing.
  
• Strategic choices usually become obvious (and therefore boring). You might straight up stop using your weakest spells.
  
• If spells have different power levels and are only rate-limited then a spell can be exactly as powerful as you can bear if a wizard wants to cast it their allotted N times per day, every day, including in downtime. Get it wrong and some spells are too weak to bother with; others break the game. Usually both, and it gets worse the wider the range of power levels.
• Jarring styles of play. The wizards have expendable resources and an incentive to use them in overwhelming bursts and/or to solve every problem, as much as possible, and then switch to 'spell recovery mode' (usually rest). This doesn't apply to other characters (or it gets awkwardly levered in by giving them inexplicably rate-limited mundane powers).
  
• Quick casting. It's bad enough in D&D-likes, where most spells take six seconds to cast. That's on the shorter side of what I'd prefer. In more granular games like GURPS, they're often cast even faster.
  
• Not much ritual. If there's a big slow evil magical spell happening, it's almost always a plot point rather than a mechanically underpinned option, let alone the primary method of spellcasting. In a lot of the genre fiction, spells are cast over long periods, either building and building in power/effect, or building towards a moment where they take effect! I really like the feeling of this, and almost never see it in a RPG.
  

I think these four aspects are worth changing for their own sake. It's worth noting that they also lead to a 'best practise' which I dislike:

Bum-rush the wizard

The RPG spellcaster in combat is unarmoured or otherwise fragile, and makes up for this with a limited number of extra-powerful hits which they deliver quickly and at range without cost, and can usually snipe a specific target and/or affect swathes of foes at once.

That adds up to a nearly universally optimal strategy: bum-rush the enemy wizard. Expend resources or open yourself to risk in order to take out the spellcaster early; it'll be worth it.

This is made worse by the usual mechanical parity of NPC/PC spellcasters (a satisfying and useful part of most games which I'd like to keep). The strategy is also optimal when it's creatures fighting a PC party with spellcasters. Enemies either bum-rush the PC wizard or are complete idiots. The best you can do is switch up those two options, sometimes making it unpleasant for the PC wizard player and sometimes boring the whole group with stupid enemies.

Here's my solution so far.

 

One unified mechanic which solves all my problems

A spell has fairly minor base effects which always apply, and a buffet of advanced effects.

If you're not already casting a spell, you can always try to cast any spell you know. You must continue casting it if you want the effect to continue (no check) or build (requires check).

When you cast a spell, its base effects take place. When you continue casting a spell, you either maintain it, or you try to make it more powerful by adding an advanced effect. You can do this each round, for most reasonable definitions of 'round'. Each time you want to add an advanced effect to the spell you are casting, you must make an appropriate check, which becomes more difficult with each effect added.

If you spend a round winding down a spell you're casting to end it, there's no risk at all. If you choose to stop casting it abruptly, there's a small risk. If you're forced to stop casting by some interruption or injury, there's a moderate risk. And if you bite off more than you can chew with advanced effects and fail the spellcasting check, there's a high risk.

The more risk, the worse the potential outcomes when the spell ends, and the higher the weighting towards the worse outcomes. The spell might just fizzle or have some cosmetic effect, but then again it might lash out at or turn on the caster, or run horribly rampant. These effects could be generic, tuned to the spell, or both.

The more skilled at wizardry you are, the more likely you are to succeed on your checks, and therefore reduce the risks you face by casting a more sophisticated spell.

Examples

The mage's change spell only makes her target look like a frog, at first. As she adds more and more advanced effects, they become the size of a frog, and then become a frog, and then start thinking like a frog. By adding other advanced effects, she can make the spell last – first an hour, then a week, then permanently – even after she stops casting it.

The wizard raises a wall from the ground at the heel of his staff. As he walks, it follows in his tracks. He puts more effort in, and it changes from packed earth to sandstone, and then to granite. If he risks enough advanced effects, he can make it higher and thicker, or join it up and add features to turn it into a building, or make it last well beyond the time he spends casting. A skilled wizard with patience and a tolerance for repeated small risks could make a whole stone fortress, a little section at a time, and only have to renew it (say) once per year.

The warlock starts casting a spell to call lightning down on the enemy camp. Clouds gather, roil, and darken as she casts. If she releases it immediately, it will have no effect, but as she continues casting, an ominous glow signals more and more charge is gathering. The choice of when to actually bring the lightning down is a calculated risk. Wait too long, and it might lash out at her!

The evil cultist starts conjuring blood eels directly from the bodies of the victims. Over time, more and more of them exsanguinate, and the blood eels grow larger, more numerous, more self-directed, and roam further from the caster. If he doesn't want to push his luck, he can then maintain his swarm of eels for as long as he keeps casting.

Outcomes

So how about those desiderata from the start of this post.

Limited uses? Nope.

Spells of different fixed power level? Gone.

Quick casting? Not if you want to accomplish much!

Not much ritual? Effects build as the chanting continues, which is the key part; see also Possible Extensions, below.

The "bum-rush the wizard" strategy? Still useful, for PCs and NPCs alike, but not a no-brainer. When the wizard starts casting, he's not particularly dangerous. If you let him keep on casting, he eventually becomes very dangerous indeed ...unless he overreaches and destroys himself! We have arrived at "actual decision-making", the backbone of TTRPGs!

Corollaries:

• Casting a spell is a risk, so spells can be powerful and yet not rate-limited. Just play out the spell each time, to see whether something goes horribly wrong. The more powerful the effects you're invoking (and thus the more potential to 'break the game' when done over and over), the more likely you are to suffer catastrophe.
• Note that this requires negative outcomes to have actual major impacts, not just be slaps on the wrist. Otherwise you end up with a long, slow cycle of spend-resources-to-make-resources-to-fix-the-harm-which-occurred-while-making-free-resources-etc. It's going to work best in games where healing is neither easy nor quick, and where character death is a possibility.
• Character improvement for magicians is easy. You can take whatever approach you want with learning/acquiring spells or specific advanced effects, specialising in spells, etc. The main improvement is just in spellcasting skill: a better caster can reliably get more spell effects before something horrible happens. This is skill-system-independent, with one exception: casters shouldn't get so powerful that they can do magic without risk (except possibly for the weak base effects of the spell, which might be safely freely repeatable if that won't damage the setting).
• Certain styles of spell, with quickly-achievable instant fixed effects, wouldn't work very well with this. Your words of command, snap featherfalls, reflexive shields, wizard knocks/locks cast while fleeing, etc. But I'm confident that every interesting spell can be made more interesting with effects that build and layer.
• I expect this to work very well with progressive status conditions, Pathfinder-style. Binary save-or-suck is often a problem with magic systems. "Spells get more powerful as the casting continues" fixed that pretty directly.
  

There are games that have elements of this mechanic – the GLOG's wizards, which I like; games with spells you pump up over time like GURPS Dungeon Fantasy; that one Conan game with open-ended / modular casting; any game with spell mishaps. I haven't seen anything exactly like this, but if I'm reinventing the wheel, please let me know.

Possible Extensions

Off the cuff, ideas for advanced rules:

1. Capacity for the caster to change the spell they're casting on the fly by relinquishing specific advanced effects they added previously, lowering the check difficulty.
2. Extensions for counterspelling / duels of wizardry.
3. In some styles of game, advanced effects might be improvised rather than listed for the player.
4. Rituals involving long timespans and more casters: Increase the time requirement for each 'stage' of the spell, multiplying by some factor or by the number of casters. Get a benefit like reduced risk or easier checks for adding advanced effects.
5. Maybe everyone can do magic; the specialised wizards are just the ones who are good enough to do it with advanced effects and lower risk.
   
6. If you really wanted, you could add complexity back in by giving each advanced spell effect a numeric power level, and a corresponding increase to check difficulty.
   

The First RPG Ever Published in 2025

It occurred to me that living in New Zealand (GMT+13) means a shot at being the first to publish a TTRPG in 2025.

So here it is.

 

The premise

SMALL MEDIUM AT LARGE is a mystery puzzle-based role-playing game for two players. Play as a small, psychic cat burglar and the specialised anti-psychic hired to hunt them down.

 

The background

Usually, of course, the REGIONAL CONSTABULARY simply hire a MEDIUM to solve any given crime. But this time, a MEDIUM is the perpetrator, and is muddying the PSYCHIC AETHER to cover their tracks. What's needed is a CLAIRVOYANT whose third eye can still see when things are UNCLEAR.

An UNCLEARVOYANT, in fact.

 

The game

This is a joke but also an actual game I made, and published at 12:45 AM, January 1, 2025, New Zealand time. Until I hear otherwise from my competitors in the Republic of Kiribati, I am declaring it to be The First TTRPG Of 2025.

You can check it out here: https://www.drivethrurpg.com/en/product/507211/SMALL-MEDIUM-AT-LARGE

The 'Four Humors' Theory of TTRPG Players

The Angry GM recently published an article about the distinct ways in which players play RPGs, with the specific example of D&D.

He mentioned in particular the rise, or increase, of an attitude towards the game as an intrinsically theatrical activity, adding that to the old GNS classification:

Some players see D&D as a Game. They think it’s about overcoming obstacles, winning adventures, accomplishing goals, and advancing characters.

Some players see D&D as a Narrative. They think it’s about telling a story of fantasy adventure and they want to share the most interesting story possible.

Some players see D&D as a Simulation. They think it’s about entering a world as a character and dealing with it as it is. Whatever happens happens.

And now, some players see D&D as a Performance. They think it’s about putting on a show. They have a role to play and they’ve got to play it to the hilt. In the most interesting and engaging way possible.

It's a good article, worth checking out. While reading, it occurred to me that we could treat GNS Theory as just a way to describe some of the emergent properties of a simple pair of dichotomies, along the lines of another well-respected and evidence-based organisational schema, that of the humoral theory of human health.

Take all of this very seriously please.

A simple pair of dichotomies

Somebody is playing a tabletop role-playing game. They are engaging with an activity, making decisions, thinking about what they are doing. The act of play is, ultimately, a realisation of the act of thought. What is the player spending most of their brainpower thinking about?

There are two dichotomies here.

1. Is the player thinking mostly about their real world environment (the people they are playing with, the game rules, the miniatures, the side conversations)? Or are they thinking mostly about the fictive setting? Or something in between?
2. Is the player thinking mostly in an inward-looking away, about themself and what is theirs or squarely within their purview? Or are they thinking mostly in an outward-looking way, about things around them and outside of their control? Or something in between?

We can put this on a pair of axes, as in this professionally-drawn image.

And now a picture emerges, of what GNS+P is describing, but defined in terms of these innate characteristics of human thought: wet, dry, hot, and cold fictive, reality, inward-looking, and outward-looking.

 

These of course are what modern medicine ludology teaches us are the fundamental building blocks of blood, phlegm, yellow bile, and black bile different ways to engage with a role-playing game.

GNS+P Theory doesn't map precisely to the four resulting quadrants, of course. There's some interplay and outliers. We have debatable blobs, not square pigeonholes.

Let's break this exciting new bit of science down.

Yellow bile 'TTRPG as Game'

Temperament: choleric (ambitious, driven, aggressive)

What is a Gamist player thinking about?

Their thoughts tend to be INWARD-LOOKING: upon their own (and usually necessarily, the group's) ability to win; to this end they channel attention into their own player skill, their own knowledge of the rules, and making decisions about their own character's capabilities.

Their thoughts typically tend towards REALITY: the nature of the game and how to win it, the rules and mechanics, win and lose conditions, and how to get other players to go along with their plans. But they do still focus some of their attention on parts of the fictive environment: the obstacles to winning that their character encounters, and the mechanical ways they can get advantages with their character (in particular, advancement). The yellow blob in the diagram therefore stretches away towards the left.

To put it another way, Gamists have an excess of yellow bile.

Black bile 'TTRPG as Narrative'

Temperament: melancholic (sad, delusional, deep in fantasy)

What is a Narrativist player thinking about?

Their thoughts tend to be OUTWARD-LOOKING: towards the group having a satisfying play experience and how the game's play will become a story after the fact. At times, they may care more about their own enjoyment of the game-as-story, thus leaning towards the inwards-looking position.

Their thoughts tend towards REALITY: making decisions for the good of the players' play experience, the emergent story, and what will be 'interesting'. If they care about the game rules, it is in case those become an impediment to higher-order goals. (The Narrativist's thoughts may also drive towards a story with verisimilitude and/or immersion, creeping towards engagement with the fictive environment.)

To put it terms we can all understand, Narrativists may have an excess of black bile.

Phlegm 'TTRPG as Simulation'

Temperament: phlegmatic (calm, reserved, analytical)

What is a Simulationist player thinking about?

Their thoughts tend to be OUTWARD-LOOKING: at the world around their character, and at things they don't already know. They want to discover things about the fictive world and see how they mesh together, and inwards things like their knowledge of the rules and their character are mostly ancillary to that. But the act of engagement still requires making plausible decisions about the character, and the Simulationist does typically spend some attention on their character's place within the world (thus, the blue blob on the chart reaches upward).

The Simulationist's thoughts are almost strictly FICTIVE: They care most about the world they are playing in. The game's rules are meant to simulate a world, the GM is the arbiter of those rules, and the outcome of those rules is to be accepted and examined, never challenged or overruled for the sake of higher-order player/GM goals.

So of course, Simulationists have an excess of phlegm.

Blood 'TTRPG as Performance'

Temperament: sanguine (passionate, mirthful, self-indulgent)

The Angry GM suggested 'Performance' as a new and increasingly popular playstyle category, characterised by (amongst other things) creating

characters with clearly defined motivations, personalities, beliefs, goals, and fears right from the get-go. Their character’s character doesn’t emerge from gameplay and it doesn’t change as the game plays out.

What is a Performer player thinking about?

 

Their thoughts are ultimately INWARD-LOOKING: Most of all, they care about their own character, deciding its intrinsic properties, and then getting across those preselected properties.

Their thoughts are largely on the FICTIVE: How to affect the fictive world by determining a tiny part of it; looking for opportunities in the world to accomplish their secondary goal of expression. External things like 'the game rules' and 'the other players' don't impact this very much for trad RPGs.

Or as we normal, modern people would definitely say in normal, modern terms, "Performers have an excess of blood".

I put something weird on that chart, though.

 Entertainer island

I think there's a little outcrop of the Performative playstyle occupying the diametrically opposite position.

A player can start with a solid foundation of hot, wet inward, fictive humors. That is, they have a firmly imagined static character with predetermined characteristics and sometimes even an intention to pursue a 'character arc', whatever on earth that means when you're (a) playing a game that (b) involves, at its most fundamental level, making decisions about situations that you have no foreknowledge of.

But with those humors as a firm foundation, most of the player's attention is freed up to focus on the actual performative act, which is ultimately outward-looking in reality (given that it is a process of interaction with an audience). With this inversion of the expression of their bodily gameplay humors, the Performer is now thinking primarily about the theatrical entertainment of the other players / the GM / their Twitch audience / passersby in the real world. When taken to excess, to the game's detriment.

Balancing the humors

So it seems likely that people can have a predisposition towards certain humors, and we might or might not regard this as an imbalance of humors.

What are the implications? Let's sketch just a few, presupposing (naturally) that two thousand years of high-quality humoral medicine can be extended to the modern environment of the game table.

• A player who is desirous of a more neutral or 'balanced' playstyle may examine the degrees to which they are inward- or outward-looking, in the fictive world or reality, and deliberately change their behaviours accordingly.
• If the players and the GM at a table all have a similar humoral temperament, then we would expect their games to run well if they indulge in that temperament, although players of a different style would scarcely recognise the game they were playing!
• In rare circumstances where the group dynamics are just right, players of completely opposite humoral temperaments may 'cancel out' at the table due to the ways they use and express those temperaments, resulting in (against the odds) a harmonious, near-maximally-enjoyable game.
• Obviously, players may be able to select the right foods and drinks to modulate any excess of humors. By careful review of TTRPG play I have discerned some of the modern-day nostrums: pizza (hot + dry); coffee (hot + wet); soda (cold + wet); chips (cold + dry).

Science marches ever onwards.

Narration and creative control of the world: A cautionary follow-up

The other day I talked about the advice that 'the extremely unlikely success or failure of an action means something about the world must be different'. I gave some reasons why this can make things harder for the GM and less satisfying for the players. I emphasized how important it is for the GM to be careful with the 'world-state' (the body of information about the fictional environment).

Van Winkle's article which prompted my writing also touched on a related issue with either the GM or a player establishing new facts about the world-state:

What if a player says, after landing a blow, "My character slashes the orc's forehead, causing blood to pour down his face"? Sounds cool, right? So you, the GM, nod your head and continue the excitement. But then the next round the player says, "Hey, shouldn't the orc attack me with some penalty because there's blood in his eyes?"

Van Winkle endorses a solution to this from ktrey: The GM should say "Let's see what happens when the orc attacks you. If he misses, we can say that the blood in his eyes played a part in his failure".

But this advice boils down to: ignore what has actually been established to be true in the game world. We could rephrase it as "the GM/player can establish something that definitely changed in the world but treat it as not actually having changed unless future dice rolls support it having changed". There's a strange implication that the GM can and ought to say "actually, this fact about the world can't have consequences", because the rules (mere tools the GM uses to interact with the world-state) are somehow more important than the underlying validity of the world-state!

I think it's fair to say this is contrary to the GM's fundamental role. Nothing that the GM (or player, in this case, where a player has been handed creative control) establishes about the world should be mere paper-thin "set dressing" which looks nice but which the characters can poke a finger through. Once something is established as true, it becomes usable by any PCs or NPCs or natural forces. Any knock-on effects must actually happen.

The combat example is a minor one, but even it has repercussions. What if the game has a spell that works on bleeding creatures? What penalties does the orc have? Can it benefit from attacks of opportunity / combat advantage / mechanic X? What about if it wasn't an orc, but a creature has corrosive blood, or a gaze attack? How long does it take to clean blood out of your eyes, for bleeding to stop, for the wound to heal?

Just take a more systematic approach

This pitfall isn't hard to avoid.

To begin with, the GM should keep careful track of their game's world-state. They should understand how the game's systems work and what the outcomes of those systems mean for the world-state.

They should only narrate beyond the extent of those outcomes with care, especially in situations like combat when PC life is on the line and players will feel cheated, not just disappointed, if a new piece of the world's reality gets established and then its consequences immediately ignored.

They should be extremely cautious in allowing player involvement in settling what's true in the world (beyond what the rules of the system allow).

For example, in a game that has hit points, the GM must understand what hit points are, what they represent in the world, and how systems interact with them. In some games, if a creature is knocked down to 5 hit points, you can narrate them being stabbed through the thigh. In some (most, frankly), you can only narrate the near-miss, the ensuing exhaustion, the draining of luck, etc. Being stabbed through the thigh, once established, is something that actually happened in the world. If the unfortunate victim is a baseline human and the world is anything like ours, then there are consequences: the victim almost certainly falls down, they may pass out from pain, they may bleed out slowly or in a matter of seconds, and their ability to attack, defend, climb a rope, and so on is drastically reduced. Is that a ton of extra GM work and possible interactions with parts of the rule set? Yes. Is it absolutely necessary? Yes. This is why games with hit points usually don't make them meat points.

But understanding the game's systems means it's easy to narrate. You know that a sword through the thigh is a grievous wound, so you know if the rules say a creature isn't mechanically penalised by injury, then you can't narrate any non-lethal attack as a stabbing. You know that kind of wound can't be slept off, so you know if the rules say a creature can get all their hit points back overnight, then when a creature is knocked to 0 hit points you can't say they were stabbed. In fact, in such a system, you can never narrate any wounds unless the creature also died – unless (a) you are just playing the game for laughs or (b) there's something in your world's metaphysics that makes wounds of all kinds short of death close overnight, with all the ensuing consequences to society.

All of this applies to the example with the orc getting blood in his eyes, of course. There the possible solutions are:

1. Don't let players narrate their attacks and don't ever say anything about the world that isn't true and therefore supported by game mechanics, or
2. Change to a system which actually mechanically supports whatever a player establishes as true about the world via the creative control they have been given, or
3. Switch to free-form role-playing or storytelling.

If you study your game system and can't help but conclude that hit points are neither meat points nor luck points but also both those things, then it's only a matter of time until you have to contend with this issue. There is no solution other than fixing the game system or changing to one that's coherent. Even if you try to sidestep by deliberately narrating combat really vaguely, eventually a player will notice "I suffered wounds so terrible that I failed all but the final saving throw against instant death, and now it is ten hours later and those wounds have literally disappeared without any magic or miracle involved".

Finding a conclusion in all this

Ultimately this is part of a broader point: narrating an action's outcome isn't just a fun little bit of flavour, like it would be if you were telling a story. It's a major part of the role-playing game loop. If a player isn't treating the GM's description of the world as something their character can really interact with, then they might as well not be playing at all! The human interactivity, the "role-playing" part of a role-playing game, is the only advantage it has over other forms of media!

I think it's difficult to create a good role-playing game with collaborative story-telling elements because of issues like these. Role-playing is all about seeing what's in the game-world around your character and treating it as a real situation. When an RPG has story-telling elements, a player has to be both reactive/interactive (role-playing) and creative/declarative (story-telling): the same human brain making semi-godlike decisions about what is true in a world is also trying to make reasonable decisions on behalf of one person with certain goals and traits within that world. Disentangling those roles is difficult. It can cause unpleasant cognitive dissonance.

Think about the consequences before giving players additional creative control in a role-playing game.

"Why Not To Play This Way" – An unlikely success or failure means you learn something new

I'd like to push back on something.

For a very long time – and most recently in an article by Tom Van Winkle last month – lots of GMs and RPG writers have recommended that when a player character's attempt at a task results in a very unlikely success or failure, it should be treated as 'discovering something new about' (i.e., changing the GM's mental model of) the game world.

When the task resolution mechanic reports a surprising success, the task was actually much easier than it seemed (for some reason that the GM comes up with). A surprising failure likewise means something in the world made the task much more difficult.

The lichvanwinkle article aptly sums the idea up as 'The "failure" [or success] with the dice gives an opportunity to define the world in ways that are not just about the character.'

(I like pretty much all of Van Winkle's writing; this is just one of those cases where you nod along appreciatively in silence for years and then only bother to pipe up when you disagree.)

To extend two of his examples:

Surprisingly, the accomplished locksmith fails to pick the simple lock on the store. So...

•  The lock mechanism must be broken, rusted solid, or jammed shut
•  The lock does open, but it turns out the door is stuck or barred
•  As the locksmith is just starting, she hears guards approaching, so can't complete the covert work

Surprisingly, the puny wizard manages to bend the metal bars in the prison window. So...

•  The metal bars are rusted completely through, and give way.
•  The bars were only an illusion all along!
•  The bars are solid, but the wizard finds the stone is old and degraded – he can just chip it away and pull the bars out.

(Note that the probability and mechanic for the unexpected success or failure doesn't matter. It could be 'natural 1 = automatic failure' or 'exploding dice leads to preposterous successes' or 'disregarding the rules, this particular GM always tweaks the Target Number so any PC can always succeed or fail'.)

Now, I usually like the idea of 'overloading' dice with extra meaning. Reducing the number of dice rolls is almost always a great design goal.

So why not here?

This is one of those ideas that's really mostly innocuous, but is so widespread that I want to push back on it for fear that it will become the status quo. "An unlikely dice result changes what's in the world" is definitely not a panacea solution, and you may find that it can create some problems of its own.

And what it boils down is that overloading the action-resolution dice in this particular way thwarts a really fundamental, really effective TTRPG loop:

(i) The GM determines, by whatever means, what is true in the world: its world-state.
(ii) Whenever a player character's passive senses would tell them something remotely meaningful about the world-state, the GM gives the player that information.
(iii) A player can have their PC investigate (interact with) their environment to get further information about the world-state.
(iv) The difficulty of a task is determined entirely by the world-state (including as it does all PCs and NPCs, secrets and fixtures, physics and metaphysical forces, gods and demons, self-inserts and metanarrative powers, etc).
(v) Players can estimate the difficulty of a task by how much they have learned via (ii) and (iii); they can attempt to reduce risk by doing more of (iii) and the GM can make the game require less back-and-forth by doing more of (ii).
(vi) Players have a single 'game action': declare their intention to attempt some task which they describe.
(vii) When a player uses their game action, the GM: first checks whether anything should happen before or simultaneously by consulting the world-state and/or the other players, then checks they and the player are envisaging the same thing with regard to the player action, then considers difficulty via (iv), then (only if the task could either succeed or fail) determines which game mechanics to use to resolve it, then resolves it, then narrates the attempt and its outcome via (ii).

Notice how many of those steps are disrupted if the action-resolution dice can make a retroactive change to the world!

An idea in conflict with TTRPG best practises

More specifically, the idea that 'unlikely dice results change the world' conflicts with six important bits of TTRPG advice which are ubiquitous in modern discourse:

1. Don't make the characters do anything the player didn't try (outside of minor, obvious, safe, unstated things; always assume a character is competent). An 'unlikely dice result' should not change what a character was doing.

• The outcome of the action "I try to pick the lock" can't be "you were so overconfident that you tried to pick the simple lock without torsioning the keyway, so you failed". The player didn't attempt that and the character shouldn't be incompetent.
• Likewise the outcome of the action "I try to bend the prison bars" can't be "you chip away a bunch of what turns out to be ancient, crumbling stone and pull the bars out instead". We can easily imagine cases where the player would decide not to take the alternate option. (And if you stop and give them the "new information", they're now deciding based on information that was first created and then discovered by the outcome of a "use crowbar to bend metal bars" resolution mechanism which didn't do anything. Weird.)
• So this substantially constrains your options for retrofitting the world to an unlikely dice result.
  

2. Don't roll if the outcome doesn't matter. If the outcome of the roll is so surprising that it's incompatible with your vision of the world as GM, to the extent that you have to change your mental model of the world-state in order to keep it consistent, it means you should never have had the player roll in the first place! You should have just said "yes" or "no"! (If the game procedures told you to, it may also mean that those procedures are bad, but that's a different matter). If an expert lockpicker encounters a simple (functioning) lock, and has time and tools and use of her hands, then anything short of a lightning bolt from above means that she opens the lock. There should not be a flat 5% chance that she just "can't". This is true in the real world and in any game that has verisimilitude.

(Rambling aside: Breaking a pick or torsion tool in the lock is rare, at least for someone who knows how to use them. Even if you ascribe that fact to the wonders of modern metallurgy, older locks tend to have larger keyways, so older lockpicks can probably afford to be thicker to make up for it. And most importantly, note that snapping a tool in a lock will almost certainly not jam the lock, preventing it being opened; a competent locksmith will remove the piece and continue to work.)

3. Decide and envisage the world-state before you determine how to adjudicate an action. Whether you need to use any given rule, or involve dice mechanics at all, depends on what is currently true in the world.

• Just because there's a rule for "falling object damage" doesn't mean you use it if the PCs manage to make the moon fall onto their planet.
• Just because there's a rule for "whether an attack hits" doesn't mean you use it when a PC attacks a paralysed target in an otherwise empty room.

Knowing what's true in the world makes the GM's second-most important job (adjudicating action outcomes) very simple. If you were envisaging the lock as functioning, then don't roll: the locksmith cannot fail. If you were envisaging the lock as rusted solid, then don't roll: the locksmith cannot succeed. If you were envisaging the lock as being complex, or being simple but someone has lovingly filled it with honey, then work out an appropriate Target Number and go to the dice. The 'unlikely dice result changes the world' idea makes all this impossible.

4. Decide and envisage the world-state plus the outcome of an action before you describe an event or outcome. If you already know what's true in the world, and you're only letting dice have a say when success or failure are both possible, then you can go from outcome to description immediately.

If an unlikely dice result can change the world, this is more difficult: You have to leave space for things that even you, the GM, don't know about the world. When the dice give a surprising success or failure, you have to – on the fly – determine a change which is compatible with what the player characters already know and also what the consequences of that change will be and more specifically whether this 'breaks' anything else in the world-state or in the current scenario. And then you have to narrate the action outcome while incorporating how the player characters discover the newly-created information.

5. Players are given key information up front, can get as much descriptive detail as they ask for, and can find out more relevant information by interacting with their environment. But, whoops, now an unlikely dice result can change the world retroactively, so what info can be given out?

The GM's single most important job is providing concise, accurate, memorable, relevant descriptive narrative. You just can't do this if you have to worry about 'saving room for' corner cases. If the prison bars are strong, rust-free, corporeal, and set firmly in strong rock "unless in the future I need them not to be, if the weakling wizard rolls high enough to bend them", you have a big problem which grows bigger with every interaction the player characters have with the bars.

At some point, as more and more 'explanations' of the surprising dice result are ruled out by what the players know about the world, you're left with just two options, both unsatisfying.

1. A preposterous deus ex machina ("a sudden earthquake rocks the room just as Feebliander begins to push the bar! The wall caves in!"). Even if you try to disguise its extempore nature, you're likely to get the problem of "We immediately waste a bunch of time and resources investigating what has caused this very unexpected thing which we take to be a big clue about other parts of the game world."
2. A fake or fiat perception failure ("I know I said Feebliander thought the bars looked new and sturdy when he spent ten minutes studying them carefully, but as he applies the crowbar, he finds them to give way in a spray of rust.") Many game systems have perception mechanics, including ones that are meant to be passively or automatically applied, in which case as soon as you make surprising dice results retrospectively change the world, you've immediately failed in your job of correctly and impartially applying the rules, by either not invoking them or not taking into account information about the world.

6. Don't let the players think you don't know what's true in the world. This is more important than it sounds, especially for invested, smart, skilled players.

But suppose they notice that a lot of the time when they roll really high or really low, there's a bit of a pause and then the GM tells them their action fails or succeeds because of something they hadn't already known about the world. They're going to lose faith that the GM is thinking about their own world. They'll (accurately) regard that as a troubling sign. They'll start thinking things like "the GM can't have known the lock was completely rusted, because then what would be in the point in making me roll?"

More pragmatically, they're going to start checking for all the little factors – is the lock old, is it rusted, is it gummed or jammed or filled with honey, is the door stuck, is anyone else around – BEFORE attempting to pick the lock, and then what are you going to do when the expert locksmith rolls a 1?

Okay yes but

Most of the rationale for 'unlikely dice result changes the world' was that the GM wants to be surprised sometimes. That's valid, right?

Yes, of course.

• You might be worried about fairness ("otherwise I'm just deciding by fiat that the lock is in good working order").
• You might be aware of your own cognitive blind spots ("otherwise I'll just end up using the normal defaults – normal locks, sturdy bars, guards who can't be bribed, trees with enough branches to climb").
• You might be using a system that's simpler than you'd prefer ("Am I really meant to just make up all the Target Numbers?").
• You might want the PCs to encounter more variety than you're capable of providing ("I'm always thinking about the next encounter, so I never remember to have a more mundane task throw an unexpected boon or bane").

So how can you attain this without overloading the task resolution dice?

I think the answer is: take a more rigorous approach, using a dedicated dice roll. You could do it any number of different ways; the key is to identify early on that there's something with various possible states/aspects/nuances which could change task difficulties, and having identified it, quickly make a dice roll to see what's true in your world. Once you have determined the world-state, all the rest of the GM's job is exactly as easy as it ever was.

The solution

It's one of those things you can learn to do without a formal process, just as an instinctive part of the regular rolling-dice-for-no-apparent reason that you ought to be doing anyway to keep the players alert.

But if I had to encode it as a specific procedure, I'd say:

• Pay attention to cases where you start describing something with an obvious PC interaction, especially where you're likely going to have to later improvise that task's difficulty.
• In such cases, first envisage how the world probably is – the default state of the lock given who bought it and used it and when; the condition of the bars given whether this is a gaol in use or a crumbling ruin; the loyalty of the guards given who hired them to do what; etc.
• Then just roll a dice to see whether it's actually better or worse overall for the PCs, with a 1 being "version of the worst case that's still completely plausible" and a maximum roll being "version of the best case that's still completely plausible", the gradations between being easily decided on the fly. Worse cases make for harder Target Numbers for most approaches to most tasks, and so on. A "middle" result (either of the two numbers around the dice's average, which a GM should know) means "don't change what you first envisioned at all".

Pros:

• This is fast, simple, and easy to remember.
• If you forget to roll, or only remember after the characters have started fiddling around with things, it doesn't matter. You don't need to remember every time, only sometimes.
  
• You can pick up whichever dice is closest and use it.
• Your expectations about the world as the GM often hold true, and things only deviate from your expectations as far as you'll let them.
  
• When you 'discover' something new about the world, you get that information before you go to action resolution, available to give to any player who has their character investigate how hard various approaches to the task are going to be.
• You never get weird action results that are borderline- or outright-incompatible with the world you envisioned.

I think this better serves the overall purpose of "freedom in narrating the events in a fantasy game without hesitation or squabbling over rules and rulings. Let the dice serve your narration without requiring your narration to mess with the rules further."

Cons:

• That pesky extra dice roll...

Players not engaging

It's game time and the players are just sitting there spinning their wheels. They plan and what-if and weigh their odds and bicker in and out of character. Yeah, it's one of those sessions.

 What's happened?

1. The players might have insufficient information to make a decision. They may have forgotten some information. Perhaps one of your hints was inscrutable. The players might not see how some information they have aligns with one of their objectives.
   
2. The player characters might have unclear goals or clashing goals, or there might be disagreement in the group about which goal to pursue (due to differences in PC preference or differences in reasoning). They might be unclear about which goals should be prioritised above which others.
3. The players might have a real-life moral dilemma about acting to achieve in-character goals that don't align well with their own ideals, and are tip-toeing around having to confront that. This is a huge issue and is best served by halting the session to have the conversation.
4. You might have forgotten to give the player characters time pressure and stakes. There's a particular kind of malaise that can occur when you're using a subjective (or just subjective-feeling) experience/advancement system ('milestone' or 'narrative' or 'chapter' advancement) and you don't have a setting with big obvious time limits or opportunity costs or wandering damage. A feeling that the positive and negative consequences of action and inaction are all vague and distant can transition into a feeling that action and inaction don't really matter.
5. The players might be dreading that the wrong choice will endanger their PCs. This is a different way there can be a lack of motivation towards action over inaction. In this case, you've done such a good job as a GM getting the players invested in their characters and feeling the world has big dangerous stakes that they've become paralysed with indecision. Good work, bad outcome. I'm quite sad that I've never achieved this one. Probably the best way to coax things towards action is to remind them of how the world is ticking on in the background without them.
6. The players might be under the misapprehension that the GM should be deciding things for them. Apparently this can happen with novice players and/or due to 'learned helplessness' in the wake of unpleasantly railroady GM-ing. This is another huge issue where your best bet is to call a halt and discuss the problem in an understanding but matter-of-fact way.
7. The players might be too overloaded with information to make a good decision.

That last one's a joke. It might be possible to give the players 'too much' information but I've never seen it done (or even heard it complained about).

There are orthogonal mistakes, of course: giving the players too much false information from bad sources, giving the players too little likely-immediately-meaningful information, obfuscating information excessively, giving the players information in ways that makes it seem irrelevant, giving the players information that makes them regret their goals and objectives, giving the players information too fast for them to digest or note down, giving the players information after establishing a GM style in which nothing they learn ever really matters, etc.

Manage information to avoid a 'players not engaging' session

I have two tips here.

First

Establish PC goals early. Always summarise PC goals at the start of a session along with information you know they have which is likely to be relevant to those goals (and other key information). Constantly restate PC goals and key information during play, if even a glimmer of an opportunity presents itself. It's hard to overdo this. Remind PCs of their character motivations if those are substantially different from their immediate and long-term goals.

When the player (character)s acquire new information, try to frame it in terms of PC goals and other key information they already have, so that it slots neatly into their mental framework.

Second

When you're handing out any kind of information "X" via narration, you might have a tendency to hedge or use filler words. You absolutely must learn to overcome this. Cut out any qualifying language like this:

• "I guess it makes sense that X"
• "it's sort of X"
• "I suppose X would"
• "it's kind of... you know, X"
  
• "you think that maybe X"
• "[sigh and grimace] well... X"
• "Y! ...No, well actually, X"
  

Phrasing things this way undermines a player's trust in the quality, validity, and importance of the information content! It conveys, consciously or unconsciously, that the GM is uncertain about what's true in the world. It also conveys that the information wasn't important enough to pre-determine. And it conveys that the information wasn't connected enough to other things in the world for there to be an obvious answer.

Brains can only pay attention to so much, and are constantly filtering information into buckets based on its perceived usefulness. Hedging/filling will get information filtered disproportionately into the mental bucket with 'discard immediately' written on it.

The solution is just a matter of practice. Learn to pause and work out exactly what you want to say, then give a precise, confident, unambiguous answer. Even after a long pause you'll be much more likely to get information to stick in the players' heads.