Weapons Kill People

Turning the corner, you run into a hated enemy. He lets out a chuckle before shooting you point-blank. Now: why is your character still alive?

I think we agree, dear reader, that it would suck (at least a tiny little bit) to have your beloved character eat shit instantly at the hands of a a single bullet to the organs. Most systems and GM techniques make efforts to not let that happen: clearly defined circumstances and stakes, a chance for your PC to react or dodge, a chance for the shooter to miss or only inflict a light wound, and so on. But this is not what the post is about. The example at the top asks a very simple question: What, in the universe of  your game, ensures the PC surviving that gunshot? 

An it doesn't have to be a gun, if you're a hardcore anti-gunnist. It can be a sword, spear, knife, crossbow bolt, snake bite, laser blast, magic fireball, landmine, anti-armor tank shell, rending demonic claws, or a good old brick to the head. These things all have the same purpose, a life-ending tool or ability is being used with the goal of ending your life. So, again: Why can you be in a situation where a lethal thing is inflicted upon your character, yet you can be 100% certain that it will not be lethal?  

Not having a answer to the question is possibly my greatest pet peeve in the tabletop hobby: why is it, other than inertia, that a dagger deals 1-4 hit points of damage, and my fighting-man has 10 hit points, making it textually impossible for me to be stabbed to death until an arbitrary number of successful hits? Why is the (on average) fourth hit the one that actually kills me dead? Why do serpent venoms and pit traps only ever impair or exhaust, without actually killing? I'm sure you've all had at least one conversation about this in the past, in which someone (maybe even YOU!) explained the abstracted nature of TTRPG combat, how gameplay comes from resource management and tactical decision making, yadda yadda. The simple question stands: Why how come the bullet can't won't not kill you?

In my endless quest to not let well-meaning non-confrontational strangers get off the hook, I present to you: 

The "Weapons Kill People" rule: 

Things presented as deadly to a regular person should be deadly to a regular person.

In other words, if your game features a deadly weapon, and that deadly weapon cannot outright kill a regular, unremarkable human being in a single attack or strike or whatever, then you either need to fictionally justify that fact, or you need to change one of the above facts: either the weapon isn't deadly, or the humans are not regular.

 Now in case it wasn't obvious, a player character is under no obligation to be a regular person. In fact, only a fraction of the games I know are about ordinary people: exceptionality is a pretty common feature of being a player character, and often brings with it an explanation of what allows them to engage with the game's premise. This, ideally, also explains what about them grants resilience to getting brained with a pipe. But, if this is not the case, and your characters are not presented as somehow superior to any other guy, then the rule very much applies.

Similarly, the actual math of lethality is really not what matters. Whether you decree that the firearm's chances of being lethal are 50% or 5%, that's your call; you know what suits the tone of your game, you already know what makes sense for how you handle fights, stabbing, and the like. The rule's only requirement is that it can happen: if shooting or stabbing people will never ever kill them quickly, you need to reevaluate what exactly murder is in your game. 

Now, while I think the above is very simple, I'm sure that some folk will have a gut problem with the premise, and want to discuss. And while I have no intent of budging on this stance, I'll happily anticipate a few of the questions that might come from this. 

Q: Why does it matter?
A: Because I find it difficult to buy into a game world where the logical function of things is overridden by mechanics. This is a common gripe, but this particular thing is one of the most annoying to me. 

Q: Does that mean that PCs all need to be fragile and at permanent risk of instant death?
A: No. All this means is that you need to quantify why your PCs are exceptional in a way that makes them capable of avoiding immediate death in a fight. Are they great fighters and always defending themselves effectively? Does the magical nature of the world somehow grant them exceptional resilience to harm? Are these fated heroes guarded by the invisible hand of fate or divine intervention, their fate keeping them alive longer? Are they just really lucky and somehow always avoid internal organ damage until the very end of their HP bar? I can think of literally infinite ways to justify why this doesn't happen to PCs, just give me something, anything.  

Q: But the balance-
A: Let me make this incredibly clear: I have absolutely no interest in the "game design" side of this argument. I could not care less about what the gameplay ramifications of a character potentially having their soul removed by a single instance of bodily harm. This is not about balance, elegant systems or best practices for interesting gameplay; this is exclusively about the believability of the world your game takes place in. If a regular person being vulnerable to sudden death somehow desperately screws up your game concept... I guess, reevaluate? 

Q: What about [game], where [the rules are such that this is not an issue]?  
A: That means that the system in question doesn't suffer from the problem this post is about. Congratulations on your superior taste in tabletop gaming, and thank you for reading; I love you. 

Q: It's not fun if my character can die suddenly and without a way for me to prevent it!
A: Not only is that not a question, but you could only possibly have this reaction if you didn't actually read the post. You are ridiculous.   

Note: If you're not this guy, but see someone else comment on the post with that sentiment, please point them to this section and then make fun of them. You have my permission.