Beyond the failure
In "Stakes are everything" there was one line that is easier written than done: let failure push forward. At the table, with four players looking at you and a die that has just come to rest on a three, "now invent something good" is not helpful advice.
A failed roll that only means "it does not work" stalls the scene. A good failure hands you something new: one concrete complication that pushes the story in a direction. This is the tool, so you never have to invent that complication under pressure.
How it works
Two tables. The first gives you what the action costs. The second gives you what that stirs up in the scene. Roll a d8 on each, or simply take the pair that fits what is happening. Glue them together into one sentence, and you have your fail forward.
You use them at two moments: when a roll fails, or when you want success to cost something anyway, the partial outcome from the stakes chapter.
Table A - What it costs (d8)
| d8 | It works or fails, but... |
|---|---|
| 1 | it makes more noise than you wanted. |
| 2 | your tool breaks or runs out. |
| 3 | it takes far longer than expected. |
| 4 | you get it halfway, not quite what you wanted. |
| 5 | you leave a clear trail behind. |
| 6 | it damages something you needed. |
| 7 | it costs you something you do not get back. |
| 8 | you now owe someone for it. |
Table B - What it stirs up (d8)
| d8 | ...and now |
|---|---|
| 1 | someone comes to see what is going on. |
| 2 | the enemy knows where you are. |
| 3 | someone else has to fix it. |
| 4 | there is less time than you thought. |
| 5 | the group has to choose: push on or turn back. |
| 6 | it hits an ally instead of you. |
| 7 | a door opens that was meant to stay shut. |
| 8 | the plan changes for everyone. |
At the table
The lock from "Stakes are everything." The player fails her roll. You roll: A is 2, B is 1. The lock springs open, but her pick snaps off in the mechanism, and the clicking draws the guard into the hall. The chest is open. There is now also a problem. Exactly the failure that pushes forward.
Another. The group wants over a wall unseen. Someone fails. A is 5, B is 4: they get over it, but leave a clear trail, and there is less time than they thought before someone finds it. No dead end, but a ticking clock.
And success with a price. The merchant from the previous chapter helps the group into the warehouse district, but A is 8: they now owe him for it. That is not a failure. That is a hook for later.
To close
The tables are not an oracle. They are a nudge. Nine times out of ten, the moment you see a complication on the list, you will know something better that fits your story. That is the whole point: they give you a starting point, not a rule.
One failed roll, one concrete complication. That is all you need to keep the scene moving.