Common wisdom in design circles holds that dice mechanics should be fast, simple, and easy to understand. To fixate on beautiful mathematical bell curves is a rookie mistake. To fixate on making your dice mechanic totally unique is amateur.
I am about to claim otherwise.
The recent popular ttrpg-based video game Baldur’s Gate 3 does something interesting. When you make an active skill check in dialogue, you are completely pulled out of the conversation, and presented with a screen full of flash and fanfare for you to roll the d20 and add your bonuses. What could have possibly possessed them to do such a thing? What a terrible idea! Or is it?
I think Larian (the developers) did this because they understood that the moment of rolling that d20 is an inextricable part of D&D. There is a “feel” to stopping everything in order to go through the process of a skill check, and I believe that is no accident of design.
Yes, it’s true that you are pulled out of the story in that moment. However, when you return, you return bearing gifts; engaging with mechanic has given you a new emotional state of mind to carry into what comes next. In D&D’s case: thrill, defiance, commitment, expectation, curiosity.
And D&D is far from the best example of what I’m about to talk about.
I believe a dice mechanic need not, even should not be a mere uncertainty engine. Is it then, for the pure joy of hearing click-clack? Is it for the psychological endorphin rush of gambling? No, it can be more yet than those things. I will now offer you the claim that the dice mechanic of a game, by having a certain dicefeel, by having certain kinds of mathematics, and by taking the player out of the story at a specific time, in a specific way, can be used to reinforce the theme of the game.
Allow me to demonstrate with two examples from my own designs.
One of my side projects, currently a mere concept, is a game about being a resistance movement against an all-powerful, tyrannical regime. I conceived for it a dice mechanic that, mathematically is very near-identical to a simple ( 1d6 + X vs. Static TN ). But instead, I will use the following mechanic: The player rolls two d6 dice. The GM, representing the tyrannical regime, takes the higher of the two as the target number to beat; the player must now add their bonus in hopes of beating it. This mechanic reflects the unequal power dynamic, where the regime always has the advantage.
For my main project, even since the earliest days I played with associating the “feel” of specific dice with specific things.
- d8’s - “spearheads” - are used for action, offense, taking the initiative.
- d12’s - “turtleshells” - are used for reaction, defense.
- d4’s - “caltrops” - are used for complications, uncertainty.
These sorts of subtleties may go completely unnoticed by the player. When subtle thematic reinforcement is seeded in every aspect of a game, they come together to build a strong atmosphere.
There is more to be gained still from a dice mechanic that is uniquely tailored to its game. It can anchor the player to the system, cementing your game system in the player’s memory as a part of the experience. Dread’s jenga tower, which for the purposes of this is equivalent to a dice mechanic, is synonymous with the system itself for anyone who knows it. It’s also another excellent example of how the mechanic plays into the theme: the jenga tower is even the biggest driving force of building the titular dread in player’s minds.
In conclusion, I say go out there and make your wildest dice mechanics! Make it unique to your game! Make it sing, when the players roll dice, or draw cards, to solve rubiks cubes, or whatever you can come up with, make it sing the song of what is to follow!