To people who can tell a good ghost story, this stuff may be old hat, but I'm hoping there are some young gamers out there who want to run horror campaigns to whom this might provide help.Have you ever said to yourself, "Okay, I have Heroes of Horror, and I want to run a horror game," then gone to all the trouble to learn the taint rules, parse through the Vile Feats, and write a horror adventure? Then you play the adventure out, and something doesn't quite gel. The players aren't scared.
In D&D, for whatever reasons, I find that it's more difficult to affect players' fears than if they were all individually reading a book, or having a dream, or in a movie theatre. One reason for this might be that in all of those situations they are alone, and sensory information is being described to them in a sort of "tunnel-vision" format. That is, without distraction. Both dreams and movie theatres consist of images being projected at you, often uncontrollably. A nightmare is essentially a dream where your ability to effectively interact or exert control over the "story" has been lost. In a book, your attention is fixed on letters running across a page. These mediums have the viewer/dreamer/reader's rapt attention and thus have the ability to manipulate their emotions with some impunity.
Of course, you aren't scared if you never fall asleep and have that great nightmare, or if someone in the seat behind you is interfering with the dialogue of the slasher flick by talking on their cell phone, or if you are reading Stephen King in a car but keep getting carsick and can't pay attention to all the gory details. The point is, the only time these things "get you in the mood" is when they have your full attention.
How is this different from D&D? Well, how many D&D sessions turn into jokefests or get derailed by tangents? How many players frustrate their DMs by fiddling with the figurines or doodling on their character sheets when they should be listening? How are you supposed to scare people when their buddies are all around them, and they're all very conscious of the fact that they are sitting in your basement eating cheetos and drinking soda rather than in a haunted house?
Well, there is a form of group horror experience that has worked for generations: the campfire ghost story. Here is a link giving some brief tips on how to tell an effective ghost story.
How to apply this to D&D? First of all, most good campfire ghost stories actually imply some danger to the people listening to them. In my Boy Scout troop when I was younger, ghost stories about "The Green Lady" abounded. She was a female camper who had drowned in the pond at this one particular campground. It was said that her ghost still haunted the campground and wandered through the woods looking for people to come swimming with her in the pond. If you were caught out in the open, the Green Lady would drag you into the lake. Now, this is a somewhat unsophisticated way of scaring a group of 10-year-olds, but suffice it to say that we all stayed in our tents at night while at this particular campground, and when we went out, it was always with a buddy. In retrospect, the ghost story was a rather clever way of using our adolescent fears about women to enforce the buddy system. One interesting thing was that the Green Lady was never actually described to us beyond the fact that we knew she had to in some way be green. Leaving this to our imagination was also key, because I still to this day have a horrific mental image of what she looks like, and it's worse than anything that I could have seen in a movie.
A lot of books and movies seek to duplicate this effect of "bringing the horror close to home." In H.P. Lovecraft, when reading about the Necronomicon, and how passages of the book make a reader insane over time, you can't help but wonder if that extends to the passages that are written in the stories. Having the stories take place in actual US towns such as Providence, RI, and telling the story as a historical account, add to the horror because it implies that the reader has actually stumbled on to real facts about the universe... that otherworldly entities from unfathomably far reaches of the cosmos are manipulating events on Earth and silently engineering an apocalypse. "The Ring" also does this - the audience in the theatres realizes that just like the characters on screen, they too have seen the forbidden tape and will, in seven days, meet a most untimely death at the hands of a water-drenched little girl. Now, as soon as they put the book down or the theatre lights come back on, they are let out of the illusion, but for a moment or so, something quite interesting happens. They are brought out of their physical space and into the story, where the author or director grabbed them by the lapels and whispers, "You're next!"
Conversely when people play D&D, they know that the things that happen to their characters don't happen to them. D&D is usually played with tons of distractions, with joking friends close by, with the lights on so you can read the rules should it come to that, etc. In short, your average D&D session is not at all suited to manipulating emotions so much as just having some fun, strategizing a little, and doing some pretending. It's more akin to an improv theatre troupe than a campfire ghost story. The question is, how can you make it more like a campfire ghost story?
1.) Dim the lights. Sounds lame, but it's pretty essential. If possible, have the DM be the only person well lit in the room. Put a light source behind the DM screen so they can see the light hitting you but can't discern where it's coming from. It's getting nitpicky, but fire is spookier than flashlights, so use candles. Not only does it ever so subtly put your players into the mood while they're playing, but it also sends a blatant signal to them as soon as they enter the room that this is going to be a more moody adventure (and hopefully will suggest that it would be polite to play along, but for some people this is assuming a lot.) This also serves to take focus away from the whole group, and instead on whoever is talking at the time. Maybe pass a light around to whoever's turn it is, if your players don't think it's too goofy.
2.) Take away distracting things. I know its sacrilege to some people, but for horror adventures, miniatures suck the imagination out of the monsters. Part of what makes horror monsters effective is lack of description. Representing it as a miniature, no matter how cool or scary it's supposed to be, will turn the monster into a little plastic object that weighs less than a pound, fits in the palm of your hand, and would look cool in a display case. In fact using miniatures at all just signals to your players that the game is more about strategy than horror, and making strategy available to them implies that the monsters can be dispatched through teamwork, when really you want them to feel like it's a miracle that they survive any encounter. Also, when playing without figures, the players are placed in this strange mental state where their characters are in a very vague place with a very vague adversary... this immediately puts them out of their comfort zone. Also take away anything else that might distract their imaginations away from the horror. Dice should be fine, but leave the rulebooks at the door. Have the DM make all rules calls and tell rules lawyers to stay at ease for the session. The DM should do as much of the rolling as possible without slowing the game down. Having the players do too much of the rolling will punctuate their emotions with math, which is not what you want to happen.
3.) Add props that add to the story. Perhaps the murderer carries around a little wooden box with ornate carvings which he caresses occasionally, looks inside, and shows the contents to people he's about to murder. Have the PCs track down this murderer, only to find his living quarters uninhabited... save for the box. Present the players with a physical box that fits the description. It doesn't matter what's inside. What's important is setting up the horror of the box adequately beforehand. If you've done this, hopefully they won't look inside at all. Or if they do, they do so with much reservation.
Another prop, just off the top of my head, is to put mirrors in the room. If you've turned off most of the lights, players whose eyes are drifting and letting their minds wander will suddenly see a figure staring at them from the dark, outside the circle of players, only to find out that it was their reflection. One prop that isn't particularly horror oriented but is nonetheless cool I heard from a fellow geek in Borders. In his games he had people actually take swigs from little tumblers when they had to drink potions. In his game, this meant that in order to heal yourself, you had to drink lemon juice (which I thought was sadistic.) But in a horror campaign this could also be used. If players suspect that an NPC might be a vampire, have them find a cup of red liquid in his private study by the chair. Now present them with a glass of thick red liquid. It's just beet juice (which is nasty enough), but they'll hesitate to drink it, and the other players will jump when the person who took a sip gags and realizes it's not fruit punch.
4.) Hit home with the players. This is the tough one, so it's left optional. If you can, try to make a story that, like Lovecraft or the Ring, implies danger to not only the PCs but also the players. Perhaps there is a mantra spoken in abyssal that causes NPCs to go insane. Perhaps have the PCs come across a cursed doll that doesn't leave them alone. Before the players leave, slip a doll into one of their backpacks. I remember an ebay listing of a possessed teddy bear that was particularly unnerving. Stuff like this is harder to think up than putting mirrors in the room, but it's much more effective when done right.
The key in all of this is that your players have to actually want to play a horror game. Just like hypnosis only works on people who are receptive to it, you can't scare someone who'd rather be playing a hack-and-slash style game where being in their character's shoes gives them a power trip rather than a loss of power. Also, realize that a lot of scary stuff and lighting candles in peoples basements tends to say "creepy pagan ritual" to a lot of conservatives and reinforces the whole Jack Chick school of thought that D&Ders always do this stuff and actually believe it. So obviously, before you try to bring any horror elements into your game make sure everyone is receptive to it and understands that it's just fun and games.
Now present them with a glass of thick red liquid.
Not always a good idea. Take into account allergies, outright distastes (beet juice is icky, in my opinion), and beliefs (especially concerning alcohol). Players having to drink their own drinks when their characters do so adds a level of verisimilitude, however.
I've never run a purposefully horrific game, but I've done things that turned out to add a great deal of horror impact. I find these things play on very primal fears and emotions. If you put the players' characters into these situations where their survival is challenged by either things that feel very much out of their control, or things that just make a very visceral connection, players naturally start to feel frightened for their character's lives.
For instance, I had a pair of players who were trapped in a burning building. They sought refuge and escape by climbing into a cooler well in the back of the building. They knew that the well was connected to a system of aqueducts, but not how. They'd never seen it before. So the guy with the better lungs takes some ropes and ties them together setting up about 100 feet of slack. He tells the other guy, who is wading in a 3x5 foot square basin of water, to hold the rope and start drawing it in if he feels a series of hard tugs.
Then the swimmer clamors into the aqueduct and starts swimming. I take him out of the room with a couple of dice and let him roleplay it away from his friend, who I say to him as we step out of the room "Ok, we leave you crouched in the cold water of the cooler well, the rope is slack, and your friend has disappeared into the black aqueduct."
We roleplay this guy swimming in an aqueduct in pitch blackness. He finds a sort of chimney that leads up to possibly some air. But the rope doesn't reach far enough. He's nearly out of breath, so he decides to drop the rope and swim up for air. Fortunately he finds air, but when he dives again, he can't find the rope. So he's struggling to find this stinking rope and running out of air. He's swimming as hard as he can in the direction he 'thinks' is the way he came all the while scrambling for this rope. Finally, he finds it but he's out of air and making checks to avoid drowning and has no idea how far he's swum. He says, "I begin to tug the rope... HARD!"
I invite him back into the room, and the other player is sitting there with this unbelievably worried look on his face. I quickly tell him, "You start to feel desperate tugging on the rope!"
The player responded in a startle, "OH MY GOD!!! I PULL!!!"
I was truly amazed at A- how panicked the swimmer had gotten imagining himself in this dark claustrophobic underwater situation, and B- how terrified for his friend's life the other player had gotten sitting by himself in a room, essentially feeling just as abandoned as his PC was and imagining the worst.
I've had other situations with similar psychological effects and it all had more to do with playing on basic primal fears and emotions than tricking them into drinking beet juice or hiding creepy dolls in their backpacks. I hadn't dimmed the lights, nor did I have any props.
I think it helps too that I've studied Hitchcock in school and there are a great deal of suspense and thriller narrative devices and cinematic methods that lend themselves well to generating these emotions in players.
I should go back and examine some of the moments I can remember that made my players feel the suspense and see what I can come up with.
Not always a good idea. Take into account allergies, outright distastes (beet juice is icky, in my opinion), and beliefs (especially concerning alcohol). Players having to drink their own drinks when their characters do so adds a level of verisimilitude, however.
Oh gosh. Yeah, let me clarify... I'm not advocating you to gross out or intoxicate your players. Maybe beet juice was a bit out there, but personally I'd rather have that than lemon juice, but that might just be me. I assume a certain level of trust when I'm suggesting the whole drink idea, and that the DM is actually worthy of that trust and won't do terrible things to their players. Not something to do with strangers. This is just a suggestion for a way to make the roleplaying a little more palpable and therefore add to the mood.
All-around good advice. However, D&D, on the whole, isn't so conducive to horror settings by virtue of its types of spells and monsters. Remember that in a horror game, magick and creatures require subtlety and mystery (unless you are simply bent on a gross-out). Giant dragons and magic missiles don't work well. Fortunately, Heroes of Horror, manages to work in such aspects of D&D to make the game better geared towards horror. (Creepy monsters/scenarios, twisted magic, etc.)
Not always a good idea. Take into account allergies, outright distastes (beet juice is icky, in my opinion), and beliefs (especially concerning alcohol). Players having to drink their own drinks when their characters do so adds a level of verisimilitude, however.
Someone who has allergies shouldn’t go around tasting stuff that resembles the products that they might be allergic to. I say do it, and if want keep some benadryl handy.
As far as the post above me. I love it! Splitting your players up is always great. I used to kick players out of the room if they weren’t active, and I think I am gonna go back to that.
Sinaz raises very good points on the idea of primal fears. Another simple way to do this, I believe, is to actually limit healing. Players become a lot more reluctant to jump into fights and dangerous situations when they know there is little healing that can come there way; heck, this can even make those heroic deeds that much greater. The Paladin who engages the obviously-superior Demon Lord in single combat to distract him and allow his comrades to escape becomes much more complicated than a simple "fight or flight" decision for the party.
-Shadow Mage
For instance, describe an encounter with undead in a desecrated area that are only still standing due to the bonus hit points due do desecrate as 'should-have-fallen-over-but-haven't', emphasizing the large, disabling nature of the wounded undead and the utter lack of effect that said wounds are having on slowing the undead down. Throw in a knowledge(religion) check to recognize the desecrate effect, and you've just thrown a wonderful sense of worry at your players, with little cost or investment.
The second way is to keep them involved with the characters. Keep a large cast of distinctive NPCs with strong personalities, so that when the utterly horrible things start to happen, they happen to people the characters know about, care about, and can't easily replace.
Finally, don't neglect pacing. This is something that can only come with experience, but know when to simply build tension, when to start layering on the dark, and when to go for the big finish.
For example, I'd describe, in detail, how the people of the village were killed. I had a couple of players actually squirm and look away from me (I wasn't disgusting about it, just truthful).
Second, I always described the weather...raining and storming, just plain dreary, it definitely helps with atmosphere.
Third, NPCs were generally mis-trustful. They didn't care that the PCs lost a member going after the werewolf, even if it was to save the village. They didn't want to rejoice or feel bad in case another werewolf came along and punished them.
Fourth, and finally, I left a lot of things open. Was that a dark shadow in the corner? Was it the werewolf we fought in this room over here? Or did something get away. What were those strange markings? How come Comprehend Languages did not work? How come I felt dizzy every time I read them??
Needless to say, to this day my players refuse to play another game like that. Not because they didn't enjoy it, they just don't like being paranoid and afraid all the time with characters....
Thanks a ton! :D
2.) Take away distracting things. I know its sacrilege to some people, but for horror adventures, miniatures suck the imagination out of the monsters. Part of what makes horror monsters effective is lack of description. Representing it as a miniature, no matter how cool or scary it's supposed to be, will turn the monster into a little plastic object that weighs less than a pound, fits in the palm of your hand, and would look cool in a display case.
I see where you're going with this, but I don't think it's really the proper solution. In my experience, the best way to inflict fear in your players is to keep as much as possible a mystery. Instead of not using miniatures, I would encourage you to not use any monsters out of the book. Make up your own, and make sure the players know that what they're looking at is not a Displacer Beast, even if that's the mini you're using. Try to have the monster behave in unexpected ways. Having the giant squid-faced beastie that just rose up out of the water walk right past your PCs in the first round of combat, as if heading somewhere in particular, can add an effective element of horror. Where is it going? What will happen when it gets there? How powerful must it be if it doesn't deign to even acknowledge the heroic party who are standing right in front of it?
The creepiest zombies I ever ran in a game were the ones who didn't move until they were attacked. The PCs spent several sessions carefully sneaking past the zombies, always looking over their shoulder to see if something they did would trigger the dead bodies to motion. Eventually they began to think they were just dead bodies after all, and then one poor sap decided to take a skin sample for experimentation...
Never clarify questions the PCs have that aren't directly related to the rules mechanics. They'll ask you what's going on, offer guesses as to "what this thing is" or what it's trying to do. Don't affirm or deny, don't even say "maybe." Just smile and let them wonder. Do it right and the players' own imaginations will scare them much faster than anything you can say or do. The key is to deny them as much information as you reasonably can.
The same thing applies to horror. When you're describing things, use a flat, almost dead tone (but don't let it get boring; we don't want Ben Stein). When you use this tone, even the slightest emphasis or inflection on your words will perk your players' interest and get them worrying. I find that an effective use of this technique is to emphasize a mundane object, note some disturbing or unusual feature of that object, and then continue on with my description as though nothing unusual had been said.
The real clincher is though, that there is nothing wrong with the object; you've gotten them on edge for nothing. Do this a few times, and your players will ignore it. That's when you spring the polymorphed monster, or animated homicidal dolls or what have you on them. The amount of suspense you can generate just with that little bit of tone change is stunning.
I find that as in all story-telling, the various elements of the story are often not as important as the delivery. Delivery and timing are what make horror games horrific; pace your words, find the right tempo and timbre. I've always been good with my rhetoric (I can't sing, but c'est la vie) and I favor dead-pan humor. The key to making it funny is to time everything perfectly and in the right tone.
Ohh yes. I used to run regular games of Chill (TM, Mayfair games). I purposely ran it by candle light with a soundtrack to one of the Halloween movies playing in the background. I had such an absurd sense of timing with the soundtrack that it really enhanced the game and creeped out my players, as I had hoped. Real fun when they can get so absorbed that the soundtrack has a very real effect on their game play and state of mind. Things like this can really help players to get in the "scary/frightened" mood that their characters are in. Never forget the power of props, sounds, and gaming atmosphere.
On another note, if you want a good lesson in horror roleplaying, pick up a used copy of Chill and its supplements (if you can find them). Tons of great information and techniques for running horror games. Running the game is also great practice and great fun too. Rumor has it a new edition is in development by the present holders of the IP.
Also the Heroes of Horror D&D supplement is indeed a great tool for the same purposes.
I eventually became so adept at these kinds of techniques that one memorable game had one of my players so strung out that he was actually jumpy and uncomfortable in the dark hallways of our dorm for the rest of the night, he was very VERY spooked.
Point being, never NEVER underestimate the power of props. They may seem cheesy when you think about them "on paper," but once you use them and see the effect it has on your players, you'll wonder why you never used them before.
Basically, his character was a doctor living in 1930's New York. The elderly and ill were getting mysterious notes promising them eternal life and giving them the address of a lakeside resort. When they would arrive at the lake, the Great Old One Glaaki would pierce them with its spines, turning them into its slaves. A few of the people/zombie-slaves turned back up in town, and that is how the PC got involved.
Some of the highlights:
A zombie broke into the PC's apartment while he was at work and was making a mess of the place. Description of the zombie was key here, as was the resulting struggle. From that point on, the player was nervous about going back to his house.
The PC had found a book that had taught him some spells, one of which would create an illusion that the target's insides were bursting forth. He was trying to convince someone of what was happening, and the person didn't believe him. The PC tried casting a spell on him to convince him that everything was real, and guess which spell he picked? ;) After my description, the player had actually forgotten that the spell was an illusion and started playing the PC as a fugitive.
There was a deserted dirt road outside of town that ran alongside a series of farmhouses and into some woods. This was an improvised detail that ended up becoming a wonderful red herring that provided some chills of its own. The PC decided to go out there one night, and I decided that something lived out near the farmhouses. I didn't have any idea what I wanted to put there so I just made up descriptions of the PC hearing noises and seeing shapes out of the corner of his eyes. At one point, I had a large piece of sheet metal be blown across the road, and the PC hightailed it out of there.
At the end of the first night, we both were actually shaken up. Mind you, this is a guy that lives on horror movies, and neither of us expected the game to affect us the way that it did. I think that for me it was due to the fact that I was improvising, so I didn't even know where some of the story was going to lead. Everything just fell into place in a manner that DMs dream of.
Unfortunately, the second session was not as effective. I set the mood in the same way, and was improvising the second half of the story. It never really came together though. I think that I tried to work too much into it this time, including a lengthy dream sequence and an entity living inside of the PC. There was really no foreshadowing, and I was trying too hard to repeat the previous session's success.
So to make a long post short, some DMs may have more fun improvising a horror session because it allows them to see what gives the players the fantods and play accordingly. It also feels a bit more like a communal storytelling experience rather than running a script. I would also recommend proper foreshadowing and just the right amount of description. Too much and you are trying too hard. Not enough, and your players are focusing on filling in the gaps rather than how creepy the situation is.
Leaving this to our imagination was also key, because I still to this day have a horrific mental image of what she looks like, and it's worse than anything that I could have seen in a movie.
I think that's not a very good idea. Your players take all their cues from the DM. If you don't describe a creepy house well enough, they'll assume there are things there that aren’t. If you don't describe a monster in the correct way, then there is no way for them to know what it should look like. You mentioned Steven King, and he has to give good descriptions or the reader gets lost. I've been running a horror campaign for a while now, and I agree on some things, such as the darkness, the tunnel vision, I really love the mirror idea, but I know that my players get more creeped out if I describe in utter, chilling detail of what they see, feel, smell and hear.
2.) Take away distracting things. I know its sacrilege to some people, but for horror adventures, miniatures suck the imagination out of the monsters. Part of what makes horror monsters effective is lack of description. Representing it as a miniature, no matter how cool or scary it's supposed to be, will turn the monster into a little plastic object that weighs less than a pound, fits in the palm of your hand, and would look cool in a display case. In fact using miniatures at all just signals to your players that the game is more about strategy than horror, and making strategy available to them implies that the monsters can be dispatched through teamwork, when really you want them to feel like it's a miracle that they survive any encounter. Also, when playing without figures, the players are placed in this strange mental state where their characters are in a very vague place with a very vague adversary... this immediately puts them out of their comfort zone. Also take away anything else that might distract their imaginations away from the horror. Dice should be fine, but leave the rulebooks at the door. Have the DM make all rules calls and tell rules lawyers to stay at ease for the session. The DM should do as much of the rolling as possible without slowing the game down. Having the players do too much of the rolling will punctuate their emotions with math, which is not what you want to happen.
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I'm curious to know your opinion on a scenario I'm planning on running in the near future. I plan to go resident evil on the players by having them walk into a city only to find it's infested with super-zombies. Would it add or subtract from the mood to use a map? Zombies aren’t that scary, so I was thinking that using a map to show the hoards of zombies would be more effective than describing zombies as far as the eye can see. Wouldn't an actual number that would be impossible for the party's level to overcome be more effective?
Horror is an emotion which grows from feeling helpless -- not helpless to make decisions nor helpless to avoid a railroading, but helpless to affect the antagonist. It is difficult to introduce such a feeling into a battle-hardened group which normally expects to be able to defeat or at least stalemate opponents.
As an example, let's look at the first two Alien movies. The first movie was a straight survival-horror. The antagonist clearly outmatched the crew from the moment it was revealed and it could not be successfully confronted by the crew.
In Alien 2, the horror started later. The marines expected opposition, but they also expected to overcome it. This is what they were trained to do. Horror did not set in for the characters until their numbers began to dwindle and their resources were cut off.
Action-based RPGs like D&D have the problem that the characters already expect to encounter pretty nasty things and emerge victorious. Worse yet, the players have the expectation that their characters will overcome the enemy forces and achieve victory. Driving home horror is as difficult and time-consuming for the adventurers as it was for the marines and involves the same set of steps.
1 or 2) The group becomes isolated and cannot retreat to safety.
1 or 2) The group discovers the entity from which horror will flow.
3) The group's initial plans fail through poor intelligence, poor planning, or active enemy action. Resources and options begin to dwindle.
4) The opponent's true nature is revealed and the group begins to grasp (rightly or wrongly) that they do not have the capability to win.
Nothing seems to spook my players more than a monster they have not seen before :P A hidden roll, a new spell (or a known spell with a different description), an obscure feat (-WHAT- DID HE JUST DO?), these scare players most of all.
Oh and get rid of miniatures and grids, as said already. Miniatures don't matter anyway, when the PCs are beset by an unknown number of faster Zombies with Improved Grapple and high strength that appear out of the thick fog surrounding the players. You just place them where it's most scary and go for the PCs' throats.
I mean, a zombie should be scary, but who's afraid of the slow thing that attacks you by... punching you? In how many horror movies do zombies actually punch anything?
