So here is an interesting oddity me and my friends have noticed regarding resistance rolls.
On page 32 it states “The GM may also threaten several consequences at once, then the player may choose which ones to resist (and make rolls for each).”
Which made perfect sense on its own, but not after reading the example on page 199. In the example a character makes a skirmish roll and presumably rolls a 1-3. As a result they fall of the roof and suffer level 3 harm. So far so good. However, and this is the bit that confuses me: “But she can roll to resist, right? Yes. She can resist the harm that results from the fall. But she can’t “undo” being forced over the edge.”
Clearly the exact details are up for interpretation, but i am wondering what you folks (and John) have to say: When can a consequence, or part of a consequence not be resisted according to “Don’t roll twice for the same thing”? And how do you even determine what is is a “multi part consequence” (falling, then harm) and what is not?
My groups have always treated resistance rolls as undo buttons, but reading page 199 has really made me think about that.
Resistance rolls are more like near-misses than undoes.
So it’s not like the ceiling didn’t fell on a PC, but that the PC got to cover or dodged out of the way.
Duamn Figueroa it’s more about undoing the consequences, not undoing the fiction I think; So the question is: When can you resist a fictional consequence and when can’t you
The way I think of it to make it easier, I divide the consequences in two parts, one after the other:
The fictional cause of the consequences -> The fictional and mechanical consequences
As in:
You fall from the roof -> You hit the ground. Receive level 3 harm
Initially I describe both, to give a sense of the danger to the players as John recommends. And then when they use resistance roll, I keep the first part, but modify the second one:
You still fall from the roof -> but in the last moment you manage to grab a gargoyle statue that was just below you. (if you decide that she avoids the consequence all together)
Or
You still fall from the roof -> but you fall over some rouble that was in the street bellow. It hurts, but it’s not so bad. Take level 2 harm (if you decide to only reduce the consequence)
This way, the dangerous moment remains and the players can feel more of a badasses because they looked at the danger to the face and still managed to beat it, instead of just “it never happened”. At least that’s the way I see it.
I hope it helps
Opinion: Level 3 harm doesn’t mean anything until it’s written down on the sheet as a specific element of the fiction (Broken leg, or whatever). There is a space between the fiction establishing something (Falling off the bridge and hurting herself) and when the details in the fiction are established (when I write down “Broken leg” in the little box) and resistance rolls slot very nicely into that space. Which is to say that the fiction of “She has fallen and gotten hurt” is firmly established, but there’s a window to determine what “getting hurt” means.
It’s worth being mindful of this, since the GM can make it harder or easier to make resistance rolls based on how she describes things – if she jumps to the end, so to speak, then she’s more or less rolling over the opportunity.
Anyway, that’s how I think about it. As a general issue, this comes up a lot in games where players have any amount of narrative power, and I think resistance rolls were built on top of some of the best practices that have come out of that space.
This is a simple case of the example representing a single consequence: being thrown off the roof. That’s a single consequence, and hitting the ground just naturally means a ton of harm.
The PC can’t resist being thrown off the roof, because that’s what’s going on — that’s what the enemy did — and Resisting doesn’t rewind time on the fiction or enemy actions, generally. The Resistance roll will cover how well the PC weathers the consequence.
Pavel Berlin That is definitely a more interesting question! Once we get into that space, I think there is a large dose of GM and table sensibility in play. If the table has done a lot of games with strong player narration rights, they might be very comfortable with full on retractions. If the table hasn’t, then they might limit it purely to mechanical consequences.
I suspect the middle ground is this – events do not change, but consequences, even obvious-seeming consequences are up for grabs. To take the bridge example, let’s remove harm and say the bridge was over the water. Getting knocked off won’t hurt the character, but will remove them from the scene. Can they resist that?
Well, GM’s call, of course, but if they do resist it, then we’re not saying they didn’t get knocked off the bridge, we’re saying they managed to grab a handhold and are now dangling precariously, and while they’re still in the scene, they are also in a more complicated situation.
(But, of course, if the GM already described the player falling and hitting the water, then the GM has – implicitly or explicitly – made it clear there are no take backs.)
A good comparison can be found in television. Frequently, we’ll see an action with an obvious seeming consequence (our heroes are doooooomed!) right before the scene cuts away to something else, then when we come back we discover that something went differently than we expected (someone showed up at the right moment, the hero had a knife in their boot, whatever) and the story continues. A resistance roll can be like those moments, at least so long as the GM is willing to support it, and the level of retcon is in line with the general tone of the table.
What if as a consequence of the skirmish roll the GM described the scene as the character suffering harm from a blade and then falling from the roof to a platform just below (so, no harm but a new disadvantageous position to take in consideration)?
Could the player take the harm but resist falling?
Or accept falling and instead resist the harm?
(If the question is dumb I apologize but I didn’t read the book with enough attention apparently)
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My personal understanding (the one that I use at the table) is that you have the result of the action (which could be a failure in the case of a 1-3) and the consequences (which are listed in the Action Roll table).
So, if you used Prowl to jump from one roof to the other, and you rolled a 1-3, you have:
– The result of the action: in this case, a failure, so “you don’t get to the other roof (basically, you fall”
– The consequences (harm/complications): in this, it could be “you break your leg pretty badly (harm 3)”.
You can only resist the second (consequences) not resist to ignore your Action Roll (the rule is “don’t roll twice for the same thing”).
So, when you roll, the result of the Action is on the table (you fail or you succeed) but the consequences are still on the table until you choose whether to resist them or not.
For example, on a failed Desperate Prowl roll to jump from the roof of the museum I might say:
“You fall, breaking your legs (harm 3) and destroying the precious statuette that you stole (serious complication)”
“You fall, breaking your legs (harm 3) and land right in the middle of the guarding dogs (serious complication)”
I think the example about not being able to resist being thrown from the roof is more or less a leftover from earlier versions of the rules…
Technically not wrong, but maybe not the best example anymore.
But it’s definitely in line with “reducing the severity”: the GM can decide whether a consequence can be avoided completely or just reduced in severity
A little note, but at the table this sort of thing can be handled by modifying phrasing. If the GM says, “You hit the ground hard, take level 3 harm,” that sounds to me more like a thing that’s just happening, no questions asked.
However, if the GM sees an opportunity to offer the player a resistance roll, the statement changes to, “You’re going to hit the ground hard, and take level 3 harm.” That’s more like a prediction of what will happen without intervention, or a resistance roll.
This way of thinking about consequences is probably dependent on system mastery amongst everyone at the table, but I feel like this is how Blades wants to be played in this context: we lay out the consequences of the worst outcome, and (maybe) try to pull back from there.
Niall O’Donnell that’s whole idea of Consequences/Resisting which is explained at pag 166 “The purpose of Danger & Stress”. To quote:
“The purpose of threatening harm is not always to inflict it, it’s to describe it. The
threats become manifest in the minds of everyone playing, even if they’re avoided.
The bad outcomes are spoken aloud. They hang there in the room as horrible
potential. They’re scary. Then the player gets to roll their resistance, look you in
the eye and say, “No. It’s not that bad. I take the stress instead.” It’s empowering.
They look danger in the face and laugh. That’s the nature of a scoundrel.”
Part of the tone of the game is established through the description of the consequences and how much you can resist (reducing or avoiding).
If level 3 harm is just “deep cut in the stomach” and you can just ignore that by resisting, then the game will feel pretty swashbuckley.
If level 3 harm is “dangling guts” and by resisting you can olny reduce it to level 2 harm “stabbed in the stomach”, then the game will feel pretty gritty.
i havent read everyones responses; but my simplest example is:
you 1-3 on a desperate action in combat; the GM says “you take level 3 harm as the bluecoat shoots you.” You can resist the harm (partially or completely at GM discretion), but you can’t resist the gun shot being fired – which may carry some fictional consequences. If they then say “oh but its important we keep this job quiet can’t i resist the gunshot entirely”… I think I might be tempted to say “well, probably shouldn’t have got in a desperate situation…” Unless this really ruins the fun for the players, it’s fine i think for there to be some unfortunate consequences to failure under high stakes, even if you can resist the worst of them.
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I think the point of the example on page 199 is that you shouldn’t roll for the same thing twice, just like the header above it says. Though it’s not entirely explicit, the example suggests that Arlyn’s counter-attack was a response to the Red Sashes trying to knock her off the roof. If those were the stakes of the roll, a 1-3 means her counter-attack failed, and so she got knocked off the roof.
I don’t think this example is mean to illustrate a hard rule on what can and can’t be resisted. It’s to suggest that you not roll twice for the same thing, and that if the action roll is about whether or not something happens, then either it does or it doesn’t because of that one roll. The subsequent consequences, however, can still be avoided. This is one of those “best practices” things. You can roll for the same thing twice at your table if you want to, but John thinks it’s a bad habit and you shouldn’t do it.
Perhaps a clearer example might be failing a safecracking roll. You can’t resist the consequence of not getting the safe open, because that’s what your action roll was for, but if it blew up because it was booby-trapped, you could probably resist the consequences of you taking harm and the sensitive papers inside turning to ashes.
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Yep, exactly, Johnstone.
Also, MisterTia, Jamie, Alfred, and Rob explain it well, too. Good answers in general here.
Rather than trying to make sense of it, as most people in this discussion seem to be attempting, I’d more readily chalk this one up as a foible or an outdated concept from an earlier version. To me, in most cases, falling from a roof and taking harm is a single consequence because, if you resist the first part (by, for example, catching the ledge of the roof or grabbing onto something on your way down), the second part isn’t even a factor.
Edit: Unsurprisingly, I didn’t actually go into the book to read the example given. With proper context, it makes a lot more sense and is fairly in-line with the rules as written, much less how most RPG resolution mechanics work in general.
It’s not an outdated rule. Johnstone explains the usage clearly here.
I think what might be causing confusion here is that some people are seeing ‘falling off the roof’ as a resistable consequence, as opposed to just what happens because the roll failed. Johnstone’s safecracking example puts that in perfect light: you can’t resist the results of failing your roll to make your roll a success and open the safe.
In the case of the play example, the player’s roll was a roll to fight back so she didn’t get forced off the roof. She failed, so she DID get forced off the roof; the consequence of this is the harm resulting from the fall. She can’t roll resistance to have suddenly succeeded at the roll and still be on the roof, but she can resist the harm that resulted.
“Consequence” and “outcome” are different things in this particular context. The former is resistable, the latter is not.
Yep, exactly.
I think the issue here is that you’re treating two distinct consequences with two distinct mechanical effects as a single consequence of a single failed roll. Falling off the roof is a consequence of the failed action roll. The harm is a consequence of the player choosing not to make a resistance roll. Two separate rolls, two separate consequences.
Resistance rolls happen in the picosecond between the trigger being pulled and the bullet landing in PC-flesh, but the gun is still fired either way. Otherwise it’d be called a negation roll.
I think we should stop using the word “consequence” so loosely when Consequence is a game mechanic.
I would probably interpret that outcome as any two or three consequences: harm (landing hard), complication (not on the roof), lost opportunity (target escapes) or risky situation (dangling from edge). And I’d let a player resist any or all of those.
Harm: soft landing
Not on roof: there’s a balcony or awning just below the edge of the roof, so I can pop back up
Lost opportiunity: I can see them silhouetted against the lightning towers and still have a clean shot
Risky situation: I land quiet, and the surface is clear and secure.
Offering a variety of consequences feels harsh, but we’ve found it can empower the players to shape how they fail, and offer hard choices. It feels very cinematic to get knocked off a roof and end up dangling from the edge mildly concussed and then use your free hand to shoot your assailant when they peer over the edge.
I think I understand you can’t resist the stakes of a roll. If the roll is to see if you open the lock, and you fail, you can’t resist that.
On the other hand, what about a sword fight? You’re rolling to see if you harm them or they harm you. You fail and they harm you, but you can’t resist this harm because it was the stakes? This makes sense, but it makes an odd exception where there is a case you can’t resist harm.
In a fight you’re rolling to see if you hurt them. If you fail, you don’t, and you can’t Resist “not hurting them.” Them hurting you is a Consequence and can be Resisted.
Yeah, Alfred has it.
We skirmish. I try to stab you, you try to stab me. I roll a 1-3. You stab me. I can now resist the consequence of harm, which changes the nature of the stabbing (maybe it’s just a scratch, or you only punctured my coat, or whatever). A stabbing occurs. How bad is it?
In the example in the book, the PC is specifically fighting against an opponent who is trying to drive her off the roof. So the failure means the NPC achieves their goal: “they drive you off the roof”. The consequences of that can be resisted, but the failure can’t be turned into a success with resistance.
The goals of the PC and NPC matter when you make a roll, and they frame the nature of failure and consequences.