A Good DM Understands The Rules Before Changing Them

There is, perhaps, no more hotly debated topic than Rule 0 when it comes to RPGs. For those who aren't familiar, Rule 0 is the one that's usually stated in the introduction to a game where the creators point out that this is your game, and you bought it. If you feel that certain aspects should be ignored, changed, or tinkered with, that's your decision, and you should run the game that makes you and your players the happiest.

Do whatever, we've already got your money!

This is very similar to the advice that I've seen in a lot of creative writing classes. It goes something along the lines of, "It's your story, write it however you want to. The rules only exist as guidelines!"

While this advice is inherently true, anyone who's tried to read fiction written by someone who thought their story was so brilliant that it shouldn't have to adhere to convention or common story structure knows just how badly awry this can go. Because as I said over on The Literary Mercenary, Good Writers Understand The Rules Before They Break Them, and the same goes for all the dungeon masters out there.

You can change absolutely anything in the game. But you need to understand what you're changing, and the wide-reaching effects it might have, or you could end up chopping off your nose to spite your face. Because you're basically pulling up the files that make the game run, and making your own changes to the code. If you're not sure what you're changing, or all the aspects of the game it can affect, you can do more harm than good.

Wait... Was That a Load-Bearing Rule?

Oh shit... I might have just made things worse...

I've been in a lot of games over the years, and more than a few of them were run by dungeon masters who were more than happy to change rules they didn't like, or to port things in from other games to suit their fancy. Generally speaking, I've found that DMs who understood the game and had a firm grasp on the rules could make this work. Those who had only a rudimentary understanding of the game, though, ended up making things much worse than the so-called problem they were trying to fix.

As an example, I've met several dungeon masters who wanted to take Pathfinder, and run it as a low-to-no magic system. As such they limited, or outright banned, spellcasting classes for players, and made magic items rare-to-nonexistent in their campaign. While this eliminated fully half of the game's playable content (given that a roughly half of the classes and archetypes in the game get some form of magic or magical abilities), that's completely possible to do. However, when these DMs tried to run a game that followed the usual progression of challenge by level, they noticed something straight away... the difficulty curve went vertical in a big damn hurry.

Shit! That's the third TPK this level... what the hell?

The reason for this is that Pathfinder is a high fantasy game, and the progression of threats players face at higher and higher levels assumes they have access to magic. Not just for the purposes of healing (though that is a concern, since taking total rest heals double your class levels in a day, and that means a fighter could be in traction for a month just to get back to full strength from a single mid-level scrap), but just to be able to face certain monsters with any expectation of wining. Damage reduction that specifically ignores attacks not considered magical is very common starting at around CR 5, and it only gets harder and steeper from there.

Now, that doesn't mean you can't run a relatively low-fantasy game using Pathfinder... but you need to understand that just eliminating your players' access to magic is essentially removing half the pistons from your engine, and expecting it to run more efficiently now that there's less weight. You need to consider all of the things that choice effects, from how you expect PCs to heal, to which monsters they can realistically fight, to how that changes the value of certain classes and abilities.

In this situation, it's often just a lot easier to run a system that does what you want in the first place, such as Conan: Adventures in an Age Undreamed Of or perhaps Dungeons and Dragons 5th Edition, instead of trying to twist the core system in knots to do something it wasn't really meant for.

Whether you want to eliminate alignment in a game where it actually has effects on your character actions and the world around you, you want to throw out feat taxes because you think they're a drain on gameplay, or you just want to import a different game's rules for handling grappling, energy resistance, or weapon degradation, you need to be able to see all the ways this change is going to effect the game going forward.

Because if you change something, you're essentially throwing a rock into a pond. As such, you should have some idea of where the ripples are going.

Avoid The Cascade Cock Up

For those fortunate enough to have never experienced this phenomenon, a cascade cock up is when one thing goes wrong, which makes something else go wrong, and it continues on until you realize you've pulled the level on a Rube Goldberg device you hadn't realized was there, and whose end goal you're not entirely sure of.

Oh crap... where's the stop button?

You started with something small, maybe. But that small change had an unforeseen outcome, and now you've got a problem. So to try to fix the first problem you make another change, but that also results in a fresh set of problems. Now you've got to change something else in order to keep your first change valid, but it opens up a whole different can of worms.

There are two things you need to help prevent this. The first is to know the game you're modding so that you understand how all the moving parts are connected. The higher your degree of system mastery (or the fewer moving parts your game has), the better the chance that your changes will work they way you intend them to with minimal side effects. The second thing you need to do is actually run a few scenarios, even if it's just you sitting at your kitchen table and rolling dice, to see just how well this change holds up to the action.

Because when you make a house rule, you're essentially writing a patch for the existing game. You need to make sure your patch doesn't accidentally put your players on god-mode, or end up making your enemies into unstoppable monsters because of an unforeseen complication.

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That's all for this week's Moon Pope Monday!

Again, for more of my work, check out my Vocal archive, and stop by the YouTube channel Dungeon Keeper Radio. Or if you'd prefer to read some of my books, like my sword and sorcery novel Crier's Knife or my latest short story collection The Rejects, then head over to My Amazon Author Page!

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5 House Rules I Wouldn't Recommend

Everyone's table plays a little differently. Even if you think of yourself as a straight, by-the-book sort of dungeon master, chances are good there are a few things you've altered for when you run your game. However, in all the tables I've been to, and in all the players I've spoken with, I've heard about some house rules that just didn't work. It was like the dungeon master popped the hood on the game, nodded at the engine, and then deliberately dropped a monkey wrench straight into the gears.

Just trust me, this will make it work better. MUCH better.

The more I listened, the more I've heard stories about house rules that are fairly widespread, but which I felt the need to talk about all the same. Not because they make a game unplayable, but because they just don't add the elements they're often intended to.

As always, if you like them, you're more than welcome to keep using them. For my part, though, I would recommend against the following...

#1: Critical Fumbles

Again? Goddammit, Dave!

I figured I'd get the controversial one out of the way first. And, to be clear, this is not addressing games where critical fumbles already exist as part of the core mechanics. It's expressly for games where it's something you choose to add over and above what's already in the game, say by using the Paizo Critical Fumble Deck, or a homebrewed chart.

The idea, for those not familiar, is that when you roll a fumble (a natural 1 on a d20, or having more 1s than successes if you're playing a game with dice pools), something bad happens to your PC. Maybe they accidentally stab themselves, dealing damage and have to fight at a temporary ability penalty. Maybe they break their weapon. Maybe they fall prone. Whatever it is, through pure, random happenstance, you now find yourself at a disadvantage. In some cases, a disadvantage you might not be able to come back from (such as breaking your only weapon, or falling prone with no way to stand up lest the crowd of thugs beat you to death from all the attacks of opportunity you'd provoke).

Why I Don't Recommend It...

Aside from making it feel like players are being punished for something that is completely out of their control (which they are), it's important to consider lasting damage. If your party's fighter breaks their longsword fighting a door guard, they are now out their primary weapon, and have to face the rest of the dungeon that way. That could greatly affect their ability to use feats or class features that require that weapon for the rest of this arc if they don't have a way to replace it. Compare that to a monster breaking their weapon, and look at the difference in impact.

Your monsters are supposed to lose, and so anything that affects them only matters for one fight, more often than not. Something that can permanently affect a PC will last for the rest of the session, if not the rest of the arc. Even if it's something they can repair (cast make whole on a broken weapon, lesser restoration to undo ability damage, etc.), that still uses resources. More importantly, though, it feels like you're being punished for trying to participate in the game. Especially players who, like myself, can roll half a dozen critical fumbles in a row, which can make it feel like you'd be better off just not playing at all when you get your wrist slapped for trying.

If you want critical fumbles to feel like they matter, without being a punishment, I'd recommend checking out Want Your Games To Be More Engaging? Then Make Failing Interesting! for some advice on that subject. If you're really tied to the crit fumble mechanic, though, then just make sure none of the punishments last more than a round or two, and that they don't result in permanent problems that can be a drain on party resources.

#2: Damage Caps

Meh, worst he can do is 6 health levels. Bring it on, chump!

The nature of raw chance is that, sometimes, you deal a metric ass ton of damage. You typically see this in games with dice pools, where it's possible to keep rolling "exploding" dice as long as they come up with their maximum value (Chronicles of Darkness and Savage Worlds are the two games that come to mind). When a storyteller feels that one character has the potential to do too much damage, they often attempt to level the playing field by instituting a damage cap.

In short, it means that a character can only deal a maximum ceiling of damage, no matter what the dice say. Sometimes the ceiling will be determined based on your stats (a cap equal to your weapon's rating or your attribute score, whichever is bigger, for instance), and other times it will be a flat cap.

No matter which way you're going, though, I wouldn't recommend it.

Why I Don't Recommend It...

The goal of a damage cap is, typically, to make it impossible to one-shot-kill a character. That sounds like a noble goal, and the mechanic is perfectly functional as a mechanic. However, it drastically limits the ability to play certain concepts, and it's hard to get away from the meta-knowledge that no matter how big and burly that ogre stalking toward you is, he has to hit you at least twice to take you down. Even if you aren't a tank.

Additionally, instituting a damage cap doesn't stop the arms race to see who can be the biggest badass (since some DMs use it as a way to curb aggressive tendencies from players who want to use their ability to crush a foe's head like a grape as a negotiation tool). All it does is change up which things get boosted, and what becomes more valuable.

As an example, if you knew that your character could only inflict a maximum of X amount of damage per attack, then instead of trying to get one big hammer, you'd instead max out the number of attacks you could deliver, thus making sure your storm of swords got the job done another way. Alternatively, if you limited everyone to a single attack per turn, or made the cap for total damage in a round instead of per attack, then the new arms race would be to beef up defense and health as high as possible to merely outlast your opponents. In either case, the behavior will probably be the same as someone knowing they were ripped enough to just one-shot-kill an enemy. And that's without the option of hiring on your own goon squad to act as a private army, which is something else you may see as a strategy to deal with getting around a damage cap.

You get much better results by making players' actions matter. Sure, you can kill that guy, but will doing so mean you're now wanted for murder? What about his 17 kinsman who are going to want revenge? And so on, and so forth. When you add in the fact that a damage cap means that players are less likely to feel threatened, since they know that one lucky shot from a random NPC can't explode often enough to put them on death's door, it's just not a great solution unless you're looking to remove the feeling of danger from a scenario and draw everything out.

#3: The Initiative Shuffle

It's all right... I'll get him next round!

Initiative is one of those fundamental building blocks of combat in most games. Because even if everyone is acting at the same time as they bob and weave, firing arrows and slinging punches, you need to decide in what order people get to resolve their actions. Sometimes rolling a high initiative is the difference between getting that all-important spell or sneak attack off before the villains do something to screw with your plan. Sometimes it's just routine, and doesn't matter much in the end.

There are some storytellers out there who want to roll for initiative each round. Again, if you absolutely love this mechanic, then you do you, but I just can't see where you're coming from.

Why I Wouldn't Recommend It...

As folks who read my post Avoid Shoelacing Rolls, and Watch Your Game Improve know, I'm generally not a fan of adding even more randomness to a game when it has no real impact on how we're telling the story. And given that people's bonuses to initiative are probably not going to change significantly from one round to another, this feels like a serious drain of energy that could be better spent elsewhere.

Because sure, Ragnar might roll a 16 on the second round instead of the 2 he rolled initially, but Chorus the diviner still has a +15 bonus on his roll. So, in addition to just adding more randomness (and making one more thing for you to keep track of), it doesn't actually make that big of a deal in the long run. It also ignores mechanics that tend to be in place, such as readying actions or delaying, which will move your place in the initiative order anyway.

A lot of DMs argue that this is for realism, but game mechanics aren't meant to be realistic. They're meant to act as conflict resolution tools within the story we're all telling. Shaking the initiative up every turn does no one any favors, and draws out what is already one of the longest parts of the game.

#4: Every Missed Shot Hits A Party Member

"Will you guys chill? I haven't shot any of you in, like, five turns."

Ranged combat is a part of almost any game. Whether it's the elvish longbowman, or the cyborg sniper, someone always wants to get comfortable and provide support fire. Nothing wrong with that. Most games even take into account the fact that shooting into a frenzied melee is more difficult than just shooting at an enemy standing in an empty field, and so they give you some kind of penalty to your shot (typically something you can overcome with the right class features, merits, feats, etc.).

However, there are a lot of people out there who feel that doesn't go far enough. So they make it a rule that if you fire into melee and miss, well, then your round still finds a target. Problem is, that target is almost always an ally of yours.

Why I Wouldn't Recommend It...

There is only one game I've ever played where, "Miss the bad guy, hit a friend," was an actual, in-the-book-rule, and it was in Deadlands. In order for that rule to take effect, though, your character had to have the Major Drawback "Grim Servant O' Death" on their sheet. So, the only occurrence of this being a core rule in a game I've come across admitted that it was a huge burden, and something players should be compensated for having to deal with. Note that we're referring to regular ranged weapons, here, not grenade templates whose actual trajectory matters on a missed attack.

Partly this is because most games already have a penalty associated with shooting at targets engaged in melee, and that penalty is the challenge they're overcoming. Making them attack their party members if they fail is just adding insult to injury, and stripping your players of the ability to fight at long-range as long as someone is a melee brute.

Just like with the critical fumbles, you can argue all you want that this affects the monsters just as much, but your monsters aren't supposed to survive the fight, so it doesn't matter if one or two of them get shot in the back by mistake. Those monsters only matter for the half a dozen rounds they're a threat. The sheer amount of times a PC archer will miss is way more significant, and will have a much bigger effect on the other players, and the game.

#5: You Can't Hit Him, He's Already Been Attacked!

Ah ha! The day is mine!

Generally speaking, if you can reach an enemy in an RPG, then you can attack them. You may not succeed, but you can at least make a go of trying to bust their chops, smash them with your mace, or put a bullet between their eyes. However, there are some storytellers out there who have put forth a system that, essentially, says a target can only be attacked a certain number of times per round. After that, you either need to hold your action, or pick a different target.

All I have to say to this one is, "Huh?"

Why I Wouldn't Recommend It...

This one is a lot like damage cap rules, in that I can see what it's supposed to do, but it accomplishes that goal in the most ham-handed way possible and destroys your immersion in the process. Because the goal appears to be to draw combat out, while also providing some measure of safety to characters so they don't just get their heads smashed in right off the line.

The problem is that this rule flies in the face of logic.

Let's take a WoD game as an example, since these games tend to be where this particular house rule crops up a lot. You have three big, nasties come bubbling out of a lab, black muck and acid blood flying. The first uses its turn to close with the pack of werewolves that have broken into said lab. It attacks. Now the leader returns that attack. Then his beta, coming around to the side, gets a swipe in. Even though there's plenty of sight lines straight to the thing, and there are several more pack members in the rear guard with high-powered rifles, they now can't concentrate fire on the monster. Not because they can't see it, or because they can't shoot it, but because this rule says they have to pick a different target, even though strategically it would be smarter to blow away the one monster before picking a new one to chip away at.

This rule has all the subtlety of a big, flashing red wall in a sandbox video game that tells you you're out-of-bounds. All it does is break immersion, and limit your options for no reason other than drawing out combat (something that should definitely not be a goal of any storyteller), and providing a kind of rules-based plot armor.

For my two cents, if you can reach the bad guy, or they can reach you, then it should be game on until one of you drops or legs it. Even if that means all 25 members of the enemy SWAT team are drawing a bead on you because you stepped out of cover.

Miss Any of Your Least Favorite Rules?

This is by no means an exhaustive list, but I tried to stick to the most general rulings I've heard and seen that I considered bad decisions beyond, "The DM banned X race and Y class," though I have plenty of arguments there, too. If I didn't include your favorite (or least favorite) house rule in this week's Crunch topic, then please leave it in the comments below! Other readers might have a story of their own to share.

Also, if you're looking for the opposite of this post, you might want to check out 5 of The Best House Rules (in Pathfinder). Most of them aren't really that edition-specific, though.

For more of my work, check out my Vocal and Gamers archives, and stop by the YouTube channel Dungeon Keeper Radio! Or if you'd like to read some of my books, like my sword and sorcery novel Crier's Knife, head over to My Amazon Author Page!

To stay on top of all my latest releases, follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, Twitter, and now on Pinterest as well! And if you'd like to help support me and my work, consider Buying Me A Ko-Fi or heading over to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a regular, monthly patron! Even a little bit of help can go a long way, trust me on that one.

No One Cares How You Game At Your Table (So Just Play The Way You Want)

As I've alluded to before, I spend a lot of time on social media and on various boards talking about games. I share my work, I answer questions when I feel my knowledge is worthwhile, and I do my best to help where I can. However, I've noticed this thing that happens a lot in the digital world of game conversations, and it confuses me.

The scenario goes like this. Someone, either in the main body of a post or in a comment, will talk about how their table has changed a particular rule, or about how they would rule something as a dungeon master. Then someone else points out that their house rule, or their ruling, is not in-line with what's actually in the book, or the official errata from the game's creator. This makes it a house rule, rather than a by-the-book ruling.

Then a huge argument breaks out.

Hey, I didn't start this flame war!

Now, I'm going to say something that shouldn't be all that controversial; pointing out that something is a house rule is not the same thing as saying someone is playing the game wrong. It is simply an acknowledgement that the rules at your table, and the rules in the book as they're written, are different. That's it. It is as close to an objective fact as you can get in the world of RPGs.

If someone has a problem with the way you run things at your table, then you need to ask yourself two very important questions:

- Question #1: Do you value this person's input?
- Question #2: Is this person sitting at your table?

Assuming the answer to both of these is no, you should ask yourself a third question... why do you care?

It's Your Table, Play It Your Way

As long as there have been RPGs, there have been players arguing over how to play the games. However, I can guarantee you that no one out there is upset knowing that somewhere in the world there is a table playing their game, breaking all the established rules, and having fun doing it.

So why are you wasting your time defending yourself, and what makes you happy? Instead, take that energy, and plan your next game session with it!

Stupid rules lawyer, eh? I'll show him how this rules lawyer builds a kickass dungeon!

There is no wrong way to run a game. If you run all the rules as they exist in the book, and that makes you happy, then do that! If you change up your players' hit points and race bonuses, but the rest is mostly okay, then do that instead! If you overhaul huge portions of the rule book, and that is just fine with your table, then shine on you mad bastard!

Curmudgeons have been with us since the start of the hobby, whether they take the form of by-the-book purists who prosthelytize theirs as the one-true-way to play, or anarchists who claim that no rules matter and it's all about your creativity. There are hundreds of different approaches, and if you have found the one that works for you, then you (and the rest of your table) are the only ones who have to enjoy it. And if someone fundamentally disagrees with you about something like this, that's great, because it lets you know not to invite them to your table.

Remember that this holiday season as we all unwrap our new dice and start planning our campaigns. Because the phrase "house rule" isn't derogatory, you are free to change whatever you want, and if someone who doesn't have an invitation to your table has a problem with it, then you can keep on scrolling and leave them shouting into the void. You've got a game to play.

That's all for this week's Moon Pope Monday post. Hopefully it helps some folks out there when it comes to perspective, and remembering that you don't have to engage with things if they aren't helping you. For more of my work check out my Vocal archive, or just go to my Gamers page for all my tabletop articles. You should also head over to the YouTube channel Dungeon Keeper Radio where I get together with other gamers to make videos for players and dungeon masters alike!

To stay on top of all my latest releases, follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter. And if you'd like to support me you can Buy Me A Ko-Fi, or go to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to throw a small tip my way every month. Or, if you're looking for something to satisfy your hunger for books, you could stop by My Amazon Author Page where you'll find all kinds... like my sword and sorcery novel Crier's Knife!

Some of The Best House Rules in Pathfinder

We all know that every dungeon master has his or her unique style. Some DMs like to play epic music during fight scenes, and some like to keep player chatter to a minimum during combat. Some like to create spur-of-the-moment performances, and some like to read descriptions straight out of the book. And while all of us are playing with the same rule books, every dungeon master will have his or her unique tweaks to the game.

These are some of the best, general house rules that I've encountered in my time as a player.

Rule #1: Everyone Gets Max Hit Points. Everyone.

There is nothing more frustrating than playing a barbarian or a fighter and through the power of ill-luck winding up with fewer hit points than the evoker with consumption. While being turned into a glass cannon can lead to creative uses of resources and unique methods of compensation, that doesn't make it feel any better when your hard-hitting melee combatant concept has become a one-hit wonder in the wrong sort of way.

That's why one of the best house rules I've ever come across is that everyone gets max hit points according to their level. Everyone, at all times. Don't even bother rolling.

There is a catch, though...

This rule is a bit of a double-edged sword, though, because it means the monsters get the same deal. On the one hand, this means your party is going to be in for a challenge when they come into the dragon's cave, but on the other hand it also means that you won't end up with a weak final boss because the bugbear chieftan rolled minimum pips on all of his hit dice when the DM was putting the sheet together. You simply calculate your max, dust your hands off, and get back to adventuring!

Rule #2: Re-Roll 1's (And Sometimes 2's) During Character Gen

This might seem like a pity rule to some players, but those players have obviously never seen someone like me roll stats for a new character. Adventurers are supposed to be different from the common populace, and every now and again these characters should have a lower-than-average stat or two that makes their strengths seem all the more heroic.

But what do you do when you have a sheet that's a single 10, and all the rest are single digits?

Hell, even my charisma is an 11.

If you roll 4 dice and drop the lowest number you've got a half-way decent shot at creating a workable adventurer. If you allow players to re-roll 1's then you've made the minimum stat you can have a 6 (something I think we're all comfortable saying is a big enough hurdle to overcome). Again though, this is a rule that cuts both ways, since your DM should use the same creation rules for NPCs and villains.

Rule #3: Deathblow Narration

This one doesn't have any mechanical benefits, but it can get players more involved during combat. It's particularly useful for groups where combat is already a big slew of numbers, and you want to try to slowly inject RP into things. Dealing a deathblow to a monster is always reason for a little excitement, and getting players to ride that wave by describing how the rogue's dagger slid between the orc's ribs, or how the ranger sank her final shaft into the wizard's throat before he could cast another spell, is pretty easy to do.

Not only that but it makes player narration something special. If you're not part of a RP-heavy group that narrates every attack and defense in combat then handing the mic to the player when he or she drops a bad guy is a great way to put emphasis on what just happened.

If you have Cleaving Finish you only get a single narration.

Rule #4: Death Monologue

This is another way to keep RP going, and it often lets characters go out like the badasses they should be when, inevitably, someone dies.

The idea of the death monologue is that the party are the heroes on the big screen, and if they're going to go out they should get to say something as they cross over. Perhaps the paladin, upon finally being brought low, says something like, "No, that's all right, there's no need to carry me," implying that her soul is already being escorted to the after-world. The barbarian, upon being impaled on the blade of a black knight might spit blood in his helmeted face and growl, "Be seeing you real soon," before finally dying.

It also makes zombies creepy as hell when they mutter the same thing over and over.

Death monologues are ways for players to inject one last moment of awesome into a character before decisions have to be made by the party. For instance, the rogue might have been a brash, cocky, know-it-all, but when he died clutching the cleric's sleeve and begging for forgiveness with blood flecking his lips, that kind of visceral going-out might motivate the party to at least try to bring him back. There are questions, whose answers they might not know any other way, and the player will get the chance to see how being dead for a little while affects the character.

Do they fight harder to prove they're still worthy of heaven, or do they try to balance out their mis-deeds because even a few hours in hell is enough to light a fire under them?

Rule #5: Cure Spells Have A Minimum... If You Want It

We've all been in that situation; the chips are down, the party is bleeding, and it's likely that at least one party member is going to go down before the fight gets finished. The cleric chants, holds her holy symbol aloft, and presses her hand to the fighter's wound healing him... of less damage than the monster's strength modifier.

Saw that one coming.

There are certain things in Pathfinder you just shouldn't leave up to chance, and one of those is using a 4th level spell and hoping against hope that you don't roll a whole bunch of 1's. In order to take the chance out of this roll it may be a good idea to let healing spells (or harm spells used to give HP back to undead) automatically heal 5 points per d8 that would be rolled. You can still roll, if you think you can get more, but that guaranteed minimum is often a lot more helpful than the fickle finger of fate.

And as with all of the previous rules, this one applies to the villains as well as to the heroes.

What Makes A Good House Rule?

Most of the time house rules are meant to solve specific problems in specific groups. One DM may feel that halberds are reach weapons, so he gives them that property. Another may feel that reach weapons should be able to be used against adjacent enemies as a swift action. Some DMs will change initiative rules so there's only one roll per side, and others will make it so disabling traps is a multi-step process instead of a simple roll of the die.

House rules are often judged on a case-by-case basis, but the important thing to remember is that house rules need to be applied unilaterally, and regularly in order to work. And generally speaking house rules should take chance out of something, rather than put more chance into the game. There's already enough chance for a natural 1 to be the death of your character without making players roll more often.

Also if everyone at your table really disagrees with your house rule, it's a good idea to listen. You and your players both have to work together to tell a story, and for that it's important for players to feel like they're being challenged without feeling like they're being punished. Especially if you can't use the excuse of "look, that's what it says in the book."

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