Showing posts with label Horror. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Horror. Show all posts

Saturday, June 6, 2015

Musings on a possible Shadows Left Behind LARP

Being inspired by Alan Wake, Silent Hill and even Forbidden Siren and Dead Space has inspired me to consider how I might create a horror LARP.  Now these are tricky things to run as immersion is key, and even harder things to recruit for as most players understandably want social intrigue, crazy exploration and to indulge power fantasies of being incredibly capable in their hobbies.  Which is fair enough, we never get to be the hero in real life but we do get to be anxious about our shortcomings.

Of course, one can always draw in a bit of a comedic element in a horror LARP like with a Brooklyn Nine Nine against a back drop of Silent Hill but there's oodles of risks there if it veers too far into farce.

Anyway, such a game would encourage a sense of unpredictability.  The rules of the game would change.  One day they might come across hiding from the mist that rolls in from over yonder while another session could involve staying out of the dark and wielding light as a weapon.  Defiling normalcy by setting events in businesses, supermarkets and cinemas can make for interesting (if hard to prop for) locations.

Being trapped and unable to escape the region would certainly add an element of suffocating claustrophobia great for any occasion.  Warping minor reality cues, like cold steam filling the air in a particularly wet fog or certain sounds being amplified, warped or reduced can also occur.

Of course, thinking up a setting is easy.  It's the practical considerations of rules set, immersion factors, character guidelines, advancement and what precisely you do during the game sessions that are the hard part.  Still it does bear thinking about.

I know that whatever I use will have to be simpler than the vampire system I'm currently utilising which has an inherent basic complexity rivalling Pathfinder and Dungeons & Dragons.

Friday, June 5, 2015

My Own Fears

I'll be this isn't what you were expecting when you took a look at this article.  I'm not talking about my fears to do with work or running games.  Oh no, I'm talking about those bits and pieces that creep you out that can empower your own horror games.

  • Something bad doesn't notice you so long as you don't notice it.
  • Paralysis in the face of danger.
  • Someone else's fear / incapacitation / pain.
  • Isolation - either physical or emotional.
  • Things under the bed.
  • Certain movements / shapes that are unfamiliar and alien to us.
  • Crossing the bed boundaries will attract the bogeyman's arms.
  • Inability to see things clearly - possible threats everywhere!
  • Escape routes being routinely blocked off, locking you in with the threat.
  • Exposure to an unseen threat.
  • Inability to hide.
  • Fear of contagion (especially using mundane vectors similar to disease or radiation)
  • The classic Death, Mutilation and Helplessness trio
  • Dying in agony
  • Witnessing a loved one die in agony
  • The ordinary slowly warping from the threat in a setting / location manner
  • Betrayal and realising the one you love has been corrupted by the Threat
  • Feather of mutilation, especially having to self-mutilate to survive
  • Having to do something awful to stop a greater threat (sacrifice one for the many)
  • Being near safety but unable to reach it, getting caught so close
  • Being near a rescuer but unable to call out, getting grabbed or falling down
  • Being the subject of misinformed vengeance (i.e. not my fault)
  • Something that only moves when you look at it.
  • Or the flip side, "Don't blink".
  • Betrayal by your own body.

Thursday, April 9, 2015

Sometimes The Greater Challenge Is A Weak Enemy

There is often the temptation for GMs to make enemies powerful.  After all, good conflict equals a strong story and a strong story holds interest.  Most players (and especially GMs) would quickly tire if there were no challenges in the story and everything could be click-whirred it's way to easy victory.  On the other hand, having *no* easy challenges means that the players can never feel powerful and impressive and, let's face it, most players are in the game for a bit of wish fulfilment.

Now most GMs know a pretty easy balance to strike with this.  You include some mooks and you have a big bad, every single time.  The trouble with this option is that it's simplistic and can be dull in its own right.  Now clearly it works well for action-oriented dungeon crawls but if you consider games like the World of Darkness where combat is rarer and with fewer numbers, the temptation to create powerful antagonists is high.

What we need to do is arrest that assumption.

Sometimes you don't need a powerful villain.  Sometimes a pathetic one is even better.

Let's say you have a group of highly powerful vampires, a few elders even, and they get dropped into a section of the Spirit World.  The obvious option is to have some badass spirits smack them down.  But you could look at it a little deeper.  One is the Prince.  One has a ritual that gives him honorary Spirit Rank.  One is the guy whose Alter-Ego did a great job of breaking everything and is now the Atoner.

Rather than having the spirits beat face and throw down, you could instead build up the creep factor.  Show everything off-kilter.  Reveal the spirits as both clear and unclear entities where one can't be sure where the architecture ends and the spirits begin.  Threaten them with spooky glimpses of nasty looking spirits.  And then during the first major confrontation, have the spirit cower before the Atoner, have it bow and scrape to the elders.

When they make their way to the Big Bad and the Elder buffs for all he's worth to tear the Bad Spirit apart, let it discorporate and have the other spirits cast Numina that banishes them back to their own reality.  Why?

Because the most interesting outcomes for such powerful PCs is What They Choose To Do.  Do they take the peaceful option?  Do they let their successes run to their head and jump out at a truly scary creature on the main road?  Also how does it feel as an Atoner to have the monsters fear you?  Do they attempt to forge the area into their own Dominion and what would be the ramifications of that?

In the end, the character's decisions are key.

Let them decide and see what happens.

Wednesday, July 2, 2014

Decision Making in Horror

Outlast Shows How It's Done
One of the oft-forgotten tricks of a good horror game is that it best revolves around the choices you make and the choices that denied to you.  You can't simply choose to make an infection curable or to deny someone else being infected at all, but you can choose what to do about it and it is that choice that makes the whole thing scary.

Do you leave the room now when there's a creature potentially lurking out there or do you wait?

Do you fight or run from the creature oozing from shadows?  If you fight, will that inevitably lead to you wasting ammunition and health levels and potentially dying?  If you try to run, is there anywhere you can go?

You don't know the outcomes but you do know the questions and in it is within those questions that most of the fear springs.  After all, there is a sort of peace in inevitability.  If you only have one option then at least it's not your fault if something bad happens but what if you could have done something differently?  What if your favourite NPC - your character's daughter - only lost her fingers because of a decision you made?  What if it's your fault?

If you'd only been smarter, brighter, braver, you could have succeeded where now you have failed....

Yes, I know, once that failure hits and the shame and bitterness wells up you've fallen into tragedy (which can be good, too) but it's that fear of entering the world of tragedy that makes fear so salient.  It's the fear of loss, the fear of suffering and pain, that stays with you.

Horror can be made up of many little elements - disgust, shock, pain, scary truths, and strange ways of looking at things - but fear is always anticipatory.  The reality may be terrible but the fear is always of the next step.  So if you make the next step meaningful, if you allow the onus to fall on the player characters, you can create a deeper, richer and more frightful game.

What do you reckon?  How does that sound to you?

Tuesday, June 24, 2014

Stealth & Decision Making

The creature lurking in the grass is my cat, Desna. As you can see, she could manage to make her stealth check if she didn't move by pretending to be a statue or something but she's hardly blending in. White fur among the dark grass tends to do that to you.

She's also highlighting the important difference between roleplay stealth and real world (or at least LARP) stealth. You see, she has made the decision to lurk among the long grasses while sniffing about. She could have chosen to hide behind a tree or walk into the bushes (and has done so, annoyingly enough to me as she's only let out in harness and leash). Each choice she makes determines the likely success of her attempts to hide. While some element of luck and skill comes into it (such as standing really still or for the searcher to happen not to look at the right angle), most of it falls down to her decisions as a cat.

The same is not true for roleplaying characters.

While a player may make decisions within combat (regular shot, called shot, seek cover, weapon choice, at the very least) and the outcomes of those decisions are arbitrarily represented (i.e. dice and stats), the same cannot be said for stealth (or athletics, really). A player can have an epiphany in an investigation or draw on general knowledge, but there's no Aha! stealth moment.

Success and failure is entirely dice related (or point expenditure related). Beyond Stealth, Fight or Flee, there are no credible decisions involving stealth because:

1) While there are sometimes items and equipment which modify stealth, these only come up once when you pick your clothing.

2) Yes, sticking to the shadows and avoiding the squeaky floorboards are important stealth elements but they're also common sense. Thus players will be annoyed if a GM penalises them for forgetting to mention that they're not striding across the brightly lit centre of the room when they say they're sneaking.

3) The ideal hiding place is a nook or a cranny and adults generally live in adult-sized places that don't waste space on nooks and crannies that would fit them. This leaves a much shorter range of hiding places and thus the best choice of hiding place is the most obvious.

4) Few systems (if any) involve a random roll to decide which hiding places are searched and which are ignored. Instead a stealth check is required to see how well a character can lie under a bed or cower in a wardrobe.

5) Timing is irrelevant. The GM doesn't sit there envisioning the patrol paths of the NPCs or making them move across a hidden map while the player waits to choose their moment to rush out. If timing matters, it is because the GM has decided that you took too long or acted too early, largely for narrative reasons.

6) There is only one stealth skill. While some systems split it into Hide and Move Silently skills, this is more of an XP sink than a credible choice as timing is a non-issue and thus the question is never should you wait or should you move, but, when you move will you make that check? If you are better at one than the other then you will rely on that skill but you won't be making decisions around it.

Personally the only way to make a good stealth game that I can see involves the use of tactical maps and floor plans. If you hid one copy behind your GM screen and placed one on the middle of the table, then you could force people to make decisions based on where they went and what they did by moving miniatures around the map. You could therefore increase the random element of line of sight, timing and other details, providing information according to your player character's senses (and rolls) and working from that basis. If your enemy mini happened to be facing their way when they pop out from under the bed then a chase will ensue.

This would theoretically make players more cautious and more alert, simulating the same kind of tension found in a real stealth game. Of course, it could also create a strategic distancing element between player and character as the player stares at the map. Plus Maps = Extra Work.

Anyway, when I get the opportunity I'm going to try this map idea out and see how it works. Meanwhile, if you get the chance to try it out, let me know how you find the technique.

Wednesday, June 18, 2014

Outlast Lingers

Outlast is a terrifyingly good game that lingers with you long after you leave the keyboard. It somehow manages to hit the sweet spot in explaining just enough to make you happy while leaving enough details open and vague to give you something to mull over once you walk away from the game and I think that's important. Games which tie it all up in a knot (or conversely leave you too little to go on) don't make you think about it because there's nothing left over to think about.

I also like how the game actually gives you a small section of gameplay after you succeed rather than simply fading to black. While this is partly due to the type of epilogue you get, it also gives you a chance to wind down. You wouldn't believe how annoyed I am by games that go: "Okay, boss down, level over, roll credits." Umm, what? I finished the game for ... credits? Give me something interesting! Something to chew on! Something to come down on or get whipped up about.

Roleplaying games can learn a lot from videogames (and other forms of fiction) in this regard. While plenty of campaigns aren't made with a discernible end in sight and normally just peter out or are cut off suddenly as interest permits, those that do certainly run the risk of ending it too abruptly. Unless everyone had to die to make the ritual happen, there should be at least a short conclusion as they backtrack through the dungeon or say their parting words to each other before riding off into the sunset or they comfort the survivors, or whatever else it could be.

It's also important to avoid the epilogue simply being an opportunity for the players to randomly talk through their characters or to force it to go on for too long. While the GM certainly shouldn't take full control of an epilogue, they should try to flavour it. Let the characters say their final words while walking through the ruined dungeon or during an after-party celebration or over the graves of their lost companions. Give the players the chance to make it poignant. And, of course, if all the players immediately drop out of character post boss fight and simply want to discuss things OOCly than let them do so but don't force it either way. If the OOC chat goes for a few minutes it's probably best to signal the end of the game by packing up your equipment so that they know the game is over rather than allowing a patchy OOC for several minutes brief IC moment OOC for several moments combination.

Don't be afraid, however, to let each player have a bit of narrative control to at least describe the fates of their character if they would prefer or to hear your pronouncements if they like it better. This can be done OOCly even, as a final statement before they head off.

Considering that people generally play in campaigns for far longer than they watch a movie or play a videogame it's important to give the epilogue a sense of 'conclusion' so that they can bask in a game well ended.

So have you ended any games lately? And if so, did you go for an epilogue and how did that work out for you?

Monday, January 27, 2014

Horrors: Home Front Is Creepy

I'm actually surprised that the various European and United Kingdom Home Fronts haven't been delved into for horror games much before.  I understand that the Occupied and Axis-aligned countries had enough true horror there that you really don't need monsters, but the Home Fronts of Scotland, Northern Ireland, Wales and especially Great Britain work out quite well.

In a time with loud bombs a'crashing, sirens a'wailing and incendiaries a'burning, your neighbours probably won't hear you scream.  Especially if they've taken shelter.  The shelters themselves are overburdened by shelterers so you can come across nearly anyone in those claustrophobic confines.  You might even find yourself in a little-used shelter with a dangerous person for company.

The black outs drop you in darkness, turning a simple act such as crossing the road into a deadly exercise (especially when a shelled road could have treacherously deep pools of water), and preventing you from seeing just who is following you or what that snuffling sound down that alleyway is all about.

The government can get away with doing strange things which don't mean anything to you.  Cardboard tanks may lurk around a building, a block of flats could suddenly become off-limits, and odd fellows in suits could tell you to move along or forget that thing you just saw, and even the media will back them up on it.

There's just such horror potential there, even if you don't spike the risks with burning buildings, gas leaks, black out gangs and having to pull people out of the rubble, dead or alive and perhaps maimed.

But yes, still in musing mode so I thought I would post up a bit on why I adore the essential premise of Horrors on the Home Front.

Friday, January 24, 2014

Little Details: Can You See The Monkey

A monkey chained to a kennel in the loft of a brewery bar.
The world is full of off-kilter details.  Little oddities that draw the eye and capture the imagination.  Strange little moments are all around you if you keep your eyes open and notice them.  It's those strange little instances that really evoke the mood.  Mostly we ignore them or take them for granted, but when our mood is right, we see it and remark upon it.

If you wish to make things sad, point out little details that give that kind of vague air.  Oh, it doesn't need to be rain and sad refrains.  It could be an abandoned doll left in its pram in a trash strewn alleyway.  It could be a cute cottage with an overgrown garden whose windows are boarded over with patterns of graffitti.  The signs of a romantic life matched against abandonment and decay.

These details are particularly helpful to horror where the strange placed among the mundane can better keep your players mentally off-balance, creating the sensation of a world where the rules are not as one would normally expect.
So how do you find these little details?

See them in the world around you.  Keep your eyes open while a passenger in a car.  Take your mobile phone out and take pictures of oddities spotted on the way.  Ruminate on imagery.  Think about it.  Consider it.  Then when you need something to draw upon, some strangeness to reinforce the world, you'll have it at your fingertips.

Thursday, January 16, 2014

Worthy Links: Call of Cthulhu Horror

It's that time of year where everyone dusts off the old bits and pieces that float around their house in the hopes of finally using them in the New Year. I thought that I'd celebrate by putting up some of my old linked Favourites for you guys to peruse.

Lovecraft Bestiary An awesome map of the various Cthulhoid entities paired with a neat little occult symbol. You could even use it as a prop if the investigators arrive at a place owned by someone who knows a little too much about the cosmos. The picture comes from Rogue Cthulhu which is a neat site in its own right. Hey hey! I rhymed.

Some cool music sites include Nox Arcana, Midnight Syndicate, and The Unquiet Void.  These are some creepy songs that can be bought independently and downloaded off the internet.

Some neat sculptures over at Arkham Bazaar includes a nice glow in the dark crow pendant I adore.  I am so planning on buying that at some point.

Zarona's Mythos Tome prints are beautiful works of art that I would love to frame AND use in a variety of game situations.

Meatspider has some very creepy sculptures of Cthulhu idols. Oddly enough, there are no byakhee whistles for sale anywhere that I can see which seems to be a very missed opportunity for an absolutely fantastic prop. Is making a whistle really so very hard?

Free 5 hour Egyptian Soundscapes have got me really excited for the Cairo section of the Masks of Nyarlathotep campaign.

New York Public Library Menus These are brilliant for anyone who wants to be able to print out props of old school menus and let your players salivate as their characters actually choose what to purchase.

Phrasebook Just because it's pretty awesome and certainly useful for folks who want to accurately give a sense of someone speaking a foreign language without having to memorise loads of phrases. These are the most likely ones in a Cthulhu campaign, at least.

The Nyarlathotep Idol *is* something I'm planning to purchase for my Masks campaign. It's just so dang creepy. Of course, I won't be telling my player that.

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

Monday, November 25, 2013

Horrors: The Style is the Thing

One of the biggest things you have to think about in a horror game is, quite naturally, the horror of it all. What makes the game scary? How do the rules complement or detract from it? What kind of enemies will the protagonists face?

My game actually makes it relatively easy to survive the various threats because death isn’t really the source of the horror for this game. Yes, it’s a possibility. And yes, there are things out there which can take you down quickly. But there are other options (termed Critical Moments) for what can happen when you lose all of your health points AND you can choose to trade up to half your health point damage for a single injury instead.

The injuries are pretty simple and straightforward and emphasise the pain of survival. While enough health point damage can slowly kill you through blood loss (at an hourly rate to begin with before becoming a minute-by-minute rate), it can so easily become a simple resource. Injuries, on the other hand, really ram it home that pain hurts.

I have seen some players look at having a single health point left in a classic World of Darkness game. He thought that everything’s fine and was quite happy to leap at a monster that I knew would certainly kill him. When I casually pointed out that he was so badly damaged he could only crawl towards it, he suddenly changed his mind and treated his character as badly hurt.

Injuries also function as a pretty neat reminder to Game Wardens that the character is hurt, as well as how they’re hurt. When a character can carry very little weight due to their bad back, and that comes up in game, the Game Warden then has the opportunity for a little description that emphasises that pain.

Of course, the trick with injuries is to ensure that it doesn’t become a painful sub-system in and of itself so I’ve kept the overall system around it quite simple.

Anyway, the game also has Morale which can be chipped away by various events and bolstered by methods of blowing off steam (venting, fighting, seducing, shopping, etc.). This actively encourages players to have those tense moments in-game as hitting 0 Morale means their character will go into Fight, Flight or Freeze (player’s choice).

Which also fits the protagonist’s mental state.

If you don’t find some release for all the tension you’re feeling, it’ll find it’s own release.

All of this means that it’s a game where the experience of living and surviving the threat becomes the real horror. This isn’t to say that the game is designed around torture porn where the characters are slowly brutalised and abused, far from it as that would soon become either relentlessly depressing or simply tedious.

The game is designed around people actively avoiding harm. Death is a threat but it’s not the only threat. When most people see a knife wielding maniac, they fear death but they comprehend the fear of pain. In this light, even rather mundane situations such as saving someone from a burning building or pulling folk out of the rubble becomes more tense because it’s not just a whittling away of health points you have to worry about.

In the end, you want to avoid pain in general.

Naturally this means that some of the combat rules (cover and concealment, dodge and parry) are designed to allow and encourage the players to attempt to use their terrain to avoid damage so that they don’t feel utterly helpless.

Vulnerability is good, utter helplessness is bad outside of a one-shot.

Next week I’ll talk a bit about the entities and how they play into this particular style of horror.

Saturday, August 17, 2013

Immunity to Death in Solo or Duo Games

This article was inspired by my plans to run Masks of Nyarlathotep with only a single player.  Those who know anything about the highly lethal and wonderfully awesome (primarily pulpy) Masks of Nyarlathotep campaign will likely be divided into two camps by the title of this article.  One would be scandalised by the very idea of it!  Naturally anyone can play the game however they please (Cthulhu players are some of the most tolerant players I've ever seen) but it really doesn't seem like it'd be something they would do.  The other group  might look longingly at the title - thinking lovingly of now-dead PCs, though they, too, might think it could lose something to have a form of immortality.

The most pragmatic might think: "Well, if it's a solo game, I suppose you might have to.  But then, why would you play it as a solo game?"

Well it is hard to get a group of people to play a highly lethal investigative game (at least around these parts) and because I'm crazy.  Also because I wanted to play this out a little more as a psychological game and that's easier to do in small numbers.

But firstly I wanted to address a common misconception: Lethality doesn't equate to fear and lack of lethality doesn't equate to a lack of fear.

Sure, it equates to horror.  Having to watch numerous characters be crushed like bugs certainly adds to feelings of helplessness and "Glad It's Not Me" vibes that surely fits into a horror genre.  Especially if the deaths are well-described and imaginative.

But it doesn't necessarily lend itself well to fear. You see, when a character dies they're ... well ... they're dead.  That's it.  Depending on their method of death one could almost call them one of the lucky ones.  From a pacing perspective, all of the attachment held to the character is destroyed and the build up of tension disperses.

Consider, for a moment, a movie with a really intriguing protagonist.  The tension increases, increases, increases ... then the protagonist dies.  A new protagonist steps in.  The audience goes, "hmm", but they watch and they start becoming invested in their plight and start rooting for them and then ... the new protagonist dies.  Perhaps this time by falling off a high wall.  The audience starts to raise an eyebrow and shuffle about in their seats.  It looks like this is a slasher movie rather than a psychological one and the audience begins to anticipate their demise and wonder how it might happen.

Don't get me wrong. This isn't always what happens but it can happen and it does happen occasionally. Especially when you reach levels of very high lethality.
But what about games with low lethality like Pathfinder or D&D?  They're not conducive to horror.

Well, no, they're not.  I mean, you can do horror games in them just fine for the first few levels but after awhile it becomes difficult not because of the characters' resistance to death but more because they're flinging fireballs and hacking giant trees in two.  The characters lack vulnerability, their options are far less limited, they are geared for running headfirst at their enemies and there's a player expectation for a combat every session that doesn't always leave a lot of space for complex character growth and the slow release of terrible revelations.  As always, it can be done but the system just isn't designed for it.

The horror genre that induces fear is all about one thing.  It's about identification with the protagonist followed by a fear of what might happen to the protagonist.  When the protagonist (in this case, the PC) dies then that identification ends and there's nothing left to work with anymore until the player becomes suitably invested in a new character which both takes time and isn't guaranteed to be as strong.

So what about making the PC immortal?  What is there left to fear in that?

Well, immortality isn't invincibility.  That is a key difference that can allow a whole range of cruel outcomes. 

Describe the pain of injury. If your system allows it, inflict movement penalties as nothing makes a player understand that their character hurts like knowing when their beloved PC is forced to crawl for the exit with a shattered femur.

Provide some sort of incentive to avoid things could kill them.  Perhaps, in the case of immortality, it takes them 1d20 hours to come back to life - a lot can happen in 20 hoursup.  Perhaps their return to life means that someone they know has their life snuffed out.  Perhaps there's no in-game immortality but someone else will always end up taking the bullet like, say, that NPC they've grown to love. It depends on the players.

You can also really ratchet up the terror with situations where death is better.  A cultist who might hack off their limbs and leave them drugged in a basement or stuck in a cage qualifies.  As does being buried alive.  As does insanity.  In fact there are plenty of ways to improve buy-in, boost the fear, and even make the character regret their immortality.  After all, the PC can be tugged between situations where failure brings an awful situation without release or where failure will lead to something terrible happening to those they love.

In many ways, it's easier to identify with the threat of loss and grief rather than the threat of dying oneself.

Finally be aware that Immunity to Death loses its meaning in large-scale games of three or more players and can throw off your horror for a number of reasons.  The players know you can't devote large reams of time to dragging them through threatening realms and while they might wish it otherwise it does have an impact on their character's perceptions of their own jeopardy because of the perfunctory nature of earlier deaths. 

Also bear in mind that immortality, either through out of character or in character mechanisms, won't work for every group. Just like some people will be immunised to fear if there's a good chance they'll lose a character once a year, there are other people who won't give a damn unless the scythe is poised above their skull. Different strokes for different folks and all that.

What do you guys think?  Can Immunity to Death work - especially in a horror game?  What are the problems or benefits of it in regards to your own group of players?

Saturday, July 6, 2013

Lovecraftian Play-by-Posts

If you're anything like me you enjoy thinking about games and indulging in little bits and pieces of games across the week.  Since I love the sight of my own written word - you may have guessed this by seeing my daily posts - I've also been involved in play-by-posts since 2006 and have racked up 10,401 posts across a dozen different games that I have either run or played within.  In truth I've only ever played at www.callofcthulhu.org.uk due to a mixture of easy lay out (each game has its own sub-forum) and its very friendly and inclusive users.  Besides which they combine horror with investigation which is something that I don't get to focus on because my players have other tastes that are happy to tilt that way occasionally but not constantly.

At present I'm running four games - two of which will soon be ending and which I will be replacing with two others.

Welcome to Silent Hill contains two separate adventures where two different characters try to survive the town and its psychological mindscrews, Order cultists, and general violent monsters that aim to destroy them.  Two adventures have thus far been concluded with a resurrected madman called Jack and a distracted mother whose daughter drowned in Lake Toluca (and who later drowned herself as penance).  At present a violent thief was sucked into foggy and dark Silent Hill after stealing a book from the Order (Father Vincent) and a private investigator has entered the town in search of his client's wife who went missing a few years after the PI found her cheating on him.

Misery Orphanage is set in a country area, UK, during World War II where a group of orphans have to survive an encounter in the cellars where they find a doorway into what appears to be a burning section of the Middle Ages.  The matrons of the orphanage appear to know what's going on but no one else down there does.

Home Front Mythos is set in Norbury, UK, during World War II where a group of characters head to an air raid shelter but a direct hit on the top of the underground shelter knocks them to the ground.  By the time they clear the rubble (while the air raid continues), they find the shelter within emptied out and a hole burrowed into the ground that leads into a series of tunnels that leads to a man's cellar where a group of shelterers are kept naked in a large cell.  The shelterers appear to be drugged ... but it turns out to be so much worse.

I will also be running The Last Express by the end of July where players pick up passengers aboard the Orient Express in August, 1939, shortly before the onset of World War II.  It takes inspiration from the computer game of the same name where the Orient Express is a hotbed of intrigue, romance, wheeling and dealing, and occult involvements.  Every week of real time will progress the game by fifteen minutes and the players can freely move between various compartments and most of the train cars interacting with each other and the NPCs.  Rather than playing the part of investigators, per se, each character could be friend or foe - cultists, arms dealers, spies, family members, businessmen, and ex-nobility could all number among them.  The game has plenty of opportunities for people to board at each train station so feel free to drop me a line over there to join.

I will also be picking up Raiko's Masks of Nyarlathotep game in which I used to be a player and am currently in the process of figuring out which of the old players would like to come back as it stopped about a year ago in the second chapter.  If anyone would like to pick up an established character (some only have about 8 - 12 pages of quite entertaining readings) then feel to say so in the Chit-Chat section.

Anyone else tried their hands at play-by-posts?  Had fun with it?  Gotten frustrated?  What web-site do you use?

Sunday, April 28, 2013

American Horror Story

Wow.  That's all I can say about this television series.  Wow.  I have just finished watching the second season of American Horror Story which is set in an asylum and I'm rearing to watch Season 1 and Season 2 all over again.  There is something deeply disturbing about the show.  It's hard to predict.  It connects storylines in very twisted way.  It plays with the horror tropes, mixing things that you don't expect to see mixed, and it isn't afraid to do terrible things to its characters.  Not at all.

I'm still reeling from the amazing television marathon I got to enjoy this weekend and I'm overjoyed at the news that there will be a third one.

One of the most amazing parts of it is how it can take characters who would otherwise be deeply unlikeable (i.e. Sister Jude) and make you really feel for them by the end of it.  All of the characters feel fully realised even when they're villains.  The actors are exceptionally good, switching between emotions in a realistic and sometimes quite sudden manner.  The cinematography has a number of gosh-wow moments.  The sets are fantastic.

I think this is what the World of Darkness was meant to be.  This is what the core books have suggested.  Hell, it might even be a bit Kult.  Reality is screwed.  So many people have been screwed up, their minds twisted, their consciences askew, so that even escape isn't what you think it is.  Salvation can be close at hand yet so far away.  People are pulled by urges, temptations, and it's a rare soul who manages to rise above it and do what's right for the right reasons.  Yet still the characters grow, and unlike in the Walking Dead where they tend to grow worse for wear, here they often grow into better people.  Which might not save them, but still, it keeps you caring and caring is hooked.

In truth, I have played in one game like this and it was pretty hard-core.  The Storyteller was prone to switching games, though, so we never got through more than a few sessions.  It was a shame because even though it was hard, it was compelling.

So yeah, if you like horror, go and watch these two television seasons: Murder House and Asylum.  Later there'll be one called Coven.  They're each entirely different storylines and seem to delve into different sorts of mythologies.  It's very good, though.  I can't recommend it highly enough.

Thursday, April 11, 2013

Extra Credits Advice Useful For Games Mastering, Part 1

While a pen and paper or LARP roleplaying game is distinctly different to a videogame, we can learn from videogames the same way that movies can learn from books and plays.  While we should never try to ape videogames, we can take a look at them to see what aspects or factors can work, which aspects can allow us to draw some of the same enjoyments from roleplaying games that we do from videogames, and also what doesn't work.  A videogame with heavy exposition, for example, can really help you identify how annoying and boring that can be.  While you could learn the same thing in books and movies, videogames have greater freedom and choice (though never as much as a good roleplaying game) and therefore the similarities are more easily noted.

So after that explanation on why it's worth looking to videogames for advice, here's a list of links from the Extra Credits guys that can be useful for Games Masters.  I'm bound to do another article on this later as there are far too many good videos with that group to list all in one article.  So here's the start.

Differences in Scale vs Differences in Kind discusses fundamental game principles that affect people's interest and excitement in games.  In other words, it is better to include greater variety (in Kind) rather than simply adding more of the same thing, i.e. more monsters or bigger ones (in Scale).  Of course, there are limits where too much variety becomes silly.

Intrinsic or Extrinsic Motivation discusses how sometimes we keep doing things in games that we don't enjoy in and of themselves, but which allow us to access something we do enjoy.  Sometimes this is worth it.  Sometimes not.  As different players have different interests, at any one time the party will have some who are extrinsically motivated (i.e. dealing with story to get to the combat) while others are intrinsically motivated (ooh story!).  This is absolutely fine, so long as at least someone is intrinsically motivated by it, including the Game Master.

Starting Off Right talks about the different sorts of methods used in videogames to start off a game well.  In truth, in roleplaying, a Game Master normally gets at least one session at around four hours to hook the players so you have more leeway than in a videogame's first five minutes.  Players also generally don't have the ability to just switch to a different Game Master on the drop of a hat so the pressures aren't as intense.  Still, it's good to try to build a compelling start and this video goes over a number of different categories of beginnings (bearing in mind that a few of them can be blended together).

Horror Protagonists discusses how horror is most effective with vulnerable protagonists which is one reason why it is difficult (though not impossible) to run a horror game in a medium to high level Pathfinder campaign. They also discuss how horror can also come from the trope of "The Monster is Me" where the protagonist turns out to be evil.  Watching this video made me think about how this is something that the various World of Darkness monster genres tries to play with.  Of course, it can be difficult to reinforce the reality of this without irritating and alienating your players or letting it slide into the wish fulfillment and power fantasies that often (but don't always) underpin most people's attempts at playing evil characters.

The Beast Macarbe talks about three types of monsters.  The abstract monster where you put people in an uncanny situation with an abstract monster that you learn very little about, the monster that either "represents or brings out the worst aspects of our characters" such as Pyramid Head from Silent Hill or zombies causing humans to do terrible things, or the monster that represents some awful aspect of humanity in general, such as how vampires represent greed, gluttony, and the fear of being buried alive.

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Creepy Manor Brainstorm

I adore creepy manor stories - especially in older eras or fantasy. They're just a super cool location. I'm not a fan of haunted mansion ghost stories, though. Perhaps I just find it hard to sympathise with the super-rich yet incredibly bland families that populate them. I liked the American Horror Story family but they were intriguingly disfunctional and their mansion was a lot smaller than that used in your typical haunted mansion movie. I find modern haunted tales set closer to my personal experience such as apartment buildings or regular homes to be more emotive. I suppose the distinction is the level of realism. Haunted mansions are generally not surreal enough to warp my mind enough to fear it nor is it close enough to my own experience to make me uncomfortable in my home. This isn't any mark against haunted mansions but it sort of explains why I don't personally care for them very often.

Anyway, onto the list:

Hedge Mazes (claustrophobia, confusion, artificial naturalism, beauty contrasting horror) - Castlevania
Drawbridges that shut at night (foreshadowing of night horrors, fear of being trapped outside, isolationism) - Zelda: Ocarina of Time
Curtain Walls and Moats (archaic, claustrophobic when inside, fear of the outside world, fear of drowning) -
Multiple Safe in the Moat outside (fear of drowning, difficulty in staying alive due to need to tread water) - Zelda: Ocarina of Time
Porcullis (fear of entrapment, fear of decapitation or having it dropped on you, fear or murder holes above, isolationism)
White roses in a rose bed with a few red roses (suggestive of sin staining innocence, of blood stains)
Atrium in Disrepair (beauty contrasts with horror, rays of sunlight in gloom if only a few windows or they're faded, fear of the open, almost cavernous symbolism)
Overstocked large library (multi-storeyed thus who's peering down, books strewn about or piled suggest obsessive research or pseudo-scientific enemy, hidden secrets, dark truths)
Violinists (a musical instrument that is pure, beautiful, yet so often mournful or eerie)
Piano playing (sometimes eerie, beauty contrasts with horror)
Sudden discordant end to a song drifting through the rooms (mystery, possible foul end)
Stuffed animals (desecration of the dead, taxidermy equipment is wicked looking, suggestive of grand hunts, pride in violence)
Wax Mannequins (uncanny value, fear that they might be human, fear they moved) - sometimes a monster in games
Suits of Armour (archaic, mystery of what's inside, fear they moved) - often a monster in games
Partially submerged room (fear of what's hidden, unreality, reminder of fragility of the world beyond nature) - often hides monsters in games
Blood spatter leading to an area (fear of injury, fear of death, anticipation toward a revelation, evidence of violence, temptation to follow, temptation to render assistance)
Blood smear leading to an area (fear of injury, fear of death, anticipation that you will see a corpse, evidence of violence and possibly someone trying to hide that violence, temptation to follow, knowledge their dead)
Stained Glass Windows (religious connotations, beauty contrasts horror, mysterious figures exalted, obscured world outside)
Depraved nobility (fear of no recourse, fear no one would believe you, fear of how far they will go)
Weathered stone and aging grey brick (ancient secrets, archaic, sense that the best times are behind us)
Isolated location (fear of being cut off, isolationism)
Village of the Downtrodden by the manor (fear of disease, superstition, clues as to threats, xenophobia, strange customs)
Heavy curtains (blocks the world outside, wealth contrasts horrors)
Follies - Artificial Ruins and Caves (mystery, false history - perhaps real if transplanted ruins from elsewhere)
Victorian oddments stack every surface (mystery, plenty to see, suggestive of travels)
Exotic vases, statues, steles (secrets, strange history, xenophobia, fear of the unknown)
Experimental Chambers (fear of injury, fear of cruel science)
Crumbling stairwells (fear of injury, archaic, best times are behind us)
Hidden Doors (unknown intentions, secrets, mystery)
Creepy puzzles to unlock certain doors (unknown intentions, sense of playfulness but perhaps cruelty, plus reminders of similar videogame experiences in creepy games)
Tape Recorders, Film Reels, Slide Projectors (archaic, disconnect from our modern reality, mystery of what will be seen, growing revelations)
Journals, Diaries, Letters (voyeuristic peek into what may not be expected to be seen, mystery, growing revelations)
Occult books with bookmarks (cruel hints of terrible things, growing revelations)
Survivor that dies after you leave them briefly (fear of death, fear of not being there for people)
Need to hide from an unstoppable beast (fear of being found, regression to childhood, vulnerability)
Twitching, spasmodic enemies (uncanny valley, suggestion of pain or alien movements)
Teleporting Monsters (fear of where they're gone, knowledge they could appear anywhere, fear of being spotted, inability to predict the threat)
Gouged lines in the walls (threat of violence, hints as to the enemy)
Masks (hidden selves, mystery, beauty contrasts horror, suggestions of decadence, implied history of the masks)
Antiquities (histories, so many lives witnessed by that object)
Creaking Floorboards (hints of someone approaching, gives away own position, sense of age and decay)
Radios (unreliable connection to the outside world)
Rain, Storm, Dreary Weather Patterns (needing to shelter somewhere unsafe)
Fog (mystery, hidden threats, reduced visibility)
Altars (religious significance, xenophobia, impressions of sacrifice or religious cruelty)
Dungeon with chains and cell bars (miserably history, fear of death and entrapment)
Greenhouse choked with exotic plants (nature trying to escape artificial confines, exoticism, beauty contrasts horror, threats from unknown plants)
Guard dogs (threat of injury, threat of betrayal from man's best friend, fear of death)
Guard dogs showing terror (fear they know what you do not, anticipation)
Boarded up rooms or areas (fear of the unknown, curiosity about what is hidden)
Inhuman or robotic seeming servants (fear of the unknown, uncanny valley, fear of monsters wearing human skin)
Seductive nobility (fear of missing out on something fun, fear of monsters wearing human skin, fear of consequences of sex)
Disturbing paintings of dreary or darkened landscapes or scowling individuals (fear of corrupted genealogies, sombre atmospheres)
Queer historical accuracies, i.e. fainting rooms and photographs of recent corpses that look sleeping (alien nature of our own history, unpredictability)
Long histories i.e. curtain walls that are 400 years old, ruins from the middle ages (mystery, fear of the barbaric past and what may be left behind)
All too helpful and prescient butlers (norms of a prior era, mundane training or mystical abilities, vulnerability)
Silent servants standing patiently by (alien norms of a prior era, easy to forget yet always watched, vulnerability, ghostly resonances)
Statue of an angelic woman that weeps tears of blood when you approach as an ill omen or the creation of a monster to attack (macarbe, image of death, religious significance, surreality - stone should not bleed) - Castlevania 64
Blood weeping through bricks or scratching behind bricks and stonework (what may lie behind it, hidden monsters, buried alive)

What else might you add to this list of creepy manors?  Any and all ideas are welcome!  Monsters, events, locations, places....

A good link filled with architectural elements in the References section.

Monday, August 6, 2012

Notes from Amnesia: Monsters that Aren't

I swear that some of the sections in Amnesia have no monsters whatsoever. I can't be sure of this. I didn't stick around. I didn't test the issue. But I'm pretty sure. In one of the earlier bits, my fiance DID test the issue by casually strolling around on a second play through. This just added to the drama and tension because while I got to see the hints - the splashes, the shadowy figures - I didn't get the 'reveal'. Remember that each encounter with a monster increases familiarity and familiarity really is the bane of horror.

One whole technique is to make the familiar feel unfamiliar to put people on edge, after all.

This is something we can certainly use in our horror games. Tease the players. Make them think that the monster *might* be there. That, in fact, they *might* be being stalked. That if they step into the light, they *might* be spotted. If they happen to pass through the light and not get attacked, breed a sense of relief that they happened to make it.

Perhaps make some rolls on the sly, ask them to make a Luck Roll or a Stealth Roll. Perhaps ask them to make a Perception check. If they succeed, give them more hints - a werewolf's spoor, bloody claw marks, an odd sound that turns out to be a bunch of wires swaying in the wind - but if they fail, simply nod and say nothing.

This allows you to build up the anticipation without making any revelations. This makes the players start to wander because, even if the characters don't believe they're being stalked, if you start asking for certain rolls than the players will. It's all about using the meta considerations to your own advantage, after all.

Its a horror game.

It doesn't have to be fair.

Thursday, August 2, 2012

Notes from Amnesia: Coping with Unbearable Tension

One of the things about Amnesia is that its damn scary. So scary in fact that you sit in a state of tension for about as long as you play - especially if you play it alone and at night like I do. The trouble with it is that I can only play it for short doses, about an hour, which is fine for a videogame as it makes it feel much longer than it likely is. The trouble occurs when you're involved in a roleplaying game and the tension starts getting unbearable.

If it were a videogame, you'd switch it off for now, head into the light, and come back later (perhaps tomorrow). If you're sitting around a table, you have to either take it on the chin or break that tension somehow. Perhaps you go to the toilet and take a few extra minutes in the light. Perhaps you head into the kitchen for a Milo. Perhaps you start making random television references and start making ridiculous jokes - out-of-character, of course, because in-character nervous banter often just raises the tension as much as it breaks it.

Which one are you?

Heck, sometimes its the Storyteller who will break tension - which can be quite problematic as they've got a far greater tool kit for damaging immersion. A random joke masquerading as in-game description. A silly NPC popping up for comedic effect. They can certainly find a way to pop that tension balloon.

So what to do?

Well, firstly acknowledge that this is making you tense. Hell, you can reduce tension for yourself without damaging other people's tension by simply stating it aloud: "Gawd, this is intense" or "This is scaring the $#@! out of me." It'll make everyone else MORE tense but you might find some relief in camaraderie or simply by taking the distance and the time to ponder your own feelings.

If that doesn't work, try making those comments and bits of banter in-character. Yes, its not a perfect solution because it generates tension to feel your character's desperation but it should make it more palatable. People make jokes to comfort themselves and to take comfort in other people's receptivity to those jokes. It'll still help you get through this.

If you really need a break RIGHT NOW than quietly excuse yourself to grab a coffee and drink it in the light for a few minutes or take a toilet break where you actually check your Tweets or something. That way you can take a break from the tension without popping it completely.

And be aware that you are one of the lucky few who have been able to experience such tension in a game. Its a great way to get that adrenaline going without ever actually being at risk of injury.

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Game Translation: Amnesia

Amnesia is a first person game that follows Daniel, an amnesiac who awakens on the castle floor and must piece together his memories before the mysterious Shadow kills him or tears down Castle Brennenburg around him. He also learns terrible secrets about the man that he turned to for help - a man called Baron Alexander. The game itself is a very pure form of survival horror where you can't attack the enemies - you can only hide from them and hope for the best while you attempt to assemble what you need to move on. To make matters worse, you will go insane unless you're in the light but you only have a limited number of tinderboxes to light darkened areas and monsters can see you when you're standing in the light.

The trick to this sort of game is to avoid the high graphical tricks and twists (or in a roleplaying case, avoid fancy descriptions of horrors) and instead focus on what you don't show. This works terrifically well in any horror format. Doors are blown open, beckoning people into well-lit rooms in a way that encourages you to slam the door shut and keep going. Piles of gore in the corner might be bloody skulls or something else equally mishappen and flyblown. Something beneath the stairs might be rotten grapes or eye balls. You can't quite see what it is. In a roleplaying game, you could simply give things a vague description with the caveat "You're pretty sure you don't want to know."

Of course, to best hammer home the reasons behind not wanting to know any more, you should probably give them a consequence for taking a closer look. Some sort of sanity mechanic (such as the BRP Call of Cthulhu percentile system) or even a set of five tokens that you lose one by one whenever you see something terrible is necessary here. That way the players will have to weigh their curiosity against the diminishing stack of tokens and the risk of panic or fainting (or even suicide) that will occur if they lose the final token. Ensure if you use a token system, however, that there are opportunities to regain tokens.

Sanity loss should also have a progressive feeling to it in order to help it feel organic. In BRP, if you lose 5 sanity points in one hit you will go temporarily insane. If you lose 20% of your overall sanity in quick succession, you will go indefinitely insane. These insanities flavor both the experience, the Keeper's descriptions, and the players' choices when roleplaying the investigator.

Alternatively, if you're using a token system, you can simply put in extra issues with each lost token. Let's simply look at the levels of insanity from Amnesia and match them to this possible token system. With all five tokens, you're fine. With the loss of one token, your hands start trembling (-1 to all Dexterity checks). Lose two tokens and you get this profound sense of vertigo that throws off your depth perception (-1 to all Perception checks). Lose three tokens and the vertigo deepens and you start swaying a fair bit (-1 to all checks requiring Balance). Lose four tokens and you briefly collapse and are therefore helpless. Lost five tokens and ... well, I won't spoil it. Obviously all of these penalties are cumulative.

Noises can be used to good effect if you have ready access to a laptop or have a really good stereo remote control. You can set it up to have creepy background music (Silent Hill and Midnight Syndicate soundtracks are good for this) and then have a separate program with the available sound effects on it so that rather than describe the creaking door you can have the sound play while you simply smile.

Amnesia also has a series of intuitive key in lock puzzles. That is, rather than having to figure out how to, say, place sixteen skulls in such a fashion that they spell out a certain word, you instead need to find an object that allows you to pass through a locked door. Even the more complex puzzles, such as starting the elevator, is largely intuitive with a need to place in the right devices and put coal inside a particular device.

Amnesia is also a game of environmental hazards. Certain fleshy growths can injure you. Waiting in darkness will slowly drain your sanity but staying in the light will draw the attention of any passing monster. Simply looking at the monsters also drains your sanity. So it ends up being a game of very simple resource management where you need to weigh the benefits of lifting your lamp briefly against the dangers of revealing yourself.




Sometimes its good not to see things clearly....


This first person game also removes all of the Heads Up Display as much as it can. One's steadily decaying sanity is displayed through strange visual effects including bugs crawling over the screen to demonstrate the sensation of bugs crawling across your skin. Damage is shown by a splatter of blood on the screen that quickly clears. If a player wants to see how they're doing, they have to open up the inventory screen and hover their mouse over an image of a brain + spine for their sanity, and over their heart for their health. Even in these cases, there's no math. Simply a description: Your head is pounding and your hands shaking OR A few minor cuts and bruises.

This is the trickiest part of running it in a roleplaying game. There is safety to be found in numbers. They're quantifiable. There's a sheet in front of you that reinforces that this isn't a person but an imaginary creation based off mathematical decision making (or at least founded upon it). This isn't necessarily a problem but there are a few things you can do to reduce it.

You can turn their health into some sort of token system so they feel they are losing parts of their characters to the dangers. You can remove their access to their health so they have to rely on your verbal descriptions. You can remove the sheets entirely and either have them simply make a single dice roll to see if they succeed or fail on their attempts to scramble onto a box without being hit OR you could simply rely on their descriptions. If they mention they hide in a wardrobe when they hear the footsteps, then it doesn't find them. If they say they're hiding in the shadows, let it work. Simply turn an egg timer and withdraw tokens for each minute that passes so that they have to wait and hope that it leaves in time - which is probably will, though may not.

A campaign based around Amnesia, or including elements of it, should appeal to Explorers as a good portion of the game involves wandering around a creepy old castle seeing what's inside and learning new things. Investigators will enjoy the slow revelations as the mystery unfurls, especially if you make a point to hide a few of the clues so they have to be clever to find it. Their curiosity alone may be enough to motivate them.

Tacticians will enjoy balancing their various needs but won't enjoy the fact that they have to keep choosing between losses rather than finding the right winning action. Expect some degree of frustration, though if well roleplayed and responded to, the frustration could be played out in character and add to the immersion and realism. Communicators won't have all that much to do as the game is, by necessity, quite lonely. However, in a party-based game they might get enough kicks out of the reactions of the other characters. There are plenty of possible places in locations like Castle Brennenburg where the characters could safely converse if they shut the door and turn a candle on.

Action Heroes will quickly come to resent all the stealthing around and hiding from the monster. In frustration they are quite likely to try to smash the monsters.

If you'd like to take a look at the trailer to learn more about this game, you can check it out here. If you'd like to read the sort of tropes that Amnesia used, you can find them here.

For the next Game Translation, you have a choice of these: Left for Dead, The Sims 3, Half Life 2, Skyrim, The Last Express, Gears of War, Mass Effect, Dracula: Origins, Realms of the Haunting, Dragon Age 2, and pretty much any survival horror or horror game. If no one picks anything by next week, it'll be Sims 3.

If you want to see the list of games I've done thus far, you can find the Game Translation series starter over here.

Thursday, July 5, 2012

Non-Horror Players in a Horror Game

One thing I've come to notice is that there aren't many players who come to roleplay horror. Generally, they come for wish-fulfillment, for empowerment, for a sense they are making a difference, or simply explore what it's like to be in another person's psyche. Sometimes they even come to roleplaying games to switch their minds off after a hard day at work.

These motives can run contrary to the desire to play a vulnerable person who is slowly (or abruptly) being traumatised by a changing world that cannot be controlled where the best they can hope for is a return to the status quo. Even those who simply wish to explore another's mind may not enjoy exploring the mind of a person who's sanity is slowly being reduced to a burning wreckage.

I get around it somewhat by playing with the Hope and Horror aspects of the horror genre. I tone down the relentless nihilism of the World of Darkness where everyone is a bad person and I introduce them to good people who are trying to make a difference - and even succeeding! I give them a chance to make an impact - to be heroes - even if they have to suffer first. I also tend to situate true horror scenarios where they are vulnerable victims of circumstances beyond their control within a greater campaign framework of heroism and success. This gives the horror scenarios greater contrast, gives them greater attachment to their characters and to NPCs, and keeps them from burning out.

But still it remains apparent to me that I don't have any full on 'horror' players in any of my tabletop games. Some enjoy tragedy and others adore darker themes, but none of them seem to come to game looking to get scared - at least, not on a regular basis. I could be wrong (I so often am) but that's how it appears to me.

It's fine by me, in truth, because they're open to the genre enough for me to get my horror jollies while still forcing me to expand my range. I find, though, that it's worth keeping in my mind the reasons why most of my players attend games so that I don't get frustrated if a player keeps breaking the tension or another player tries an action movie response to a clearly horror movie monster. They don't always do this, but the more a campaign turns toward horror, the more likely these antics become.

So remember when this happens to you in your preferred genre. It's not players being bad or inconsiderate people. It's just players trying to get back to what they enjoy most about the campaign. We would do the same.

The trick I've found is to clearly signpost in game that this is a horror scenario and allow it to remain an enclosed game. That way the players can relax into it while knowing that their favourite aspects of the game will return soon. Do you have any tricks to the trade?