Lon on Horror Gaming: The Second Crucial Element


#1

Part 1 in this series here.

The logical jump from Identifying Emotional Payoffs in the game you’re preparing for (or playing) would be to go straight to: Well, how do I make those emotions happen in the right order and proportion to satisfy all the people involved?

But if you went straight there, you’d be jumping the gun. There’s a couple more Key concepts and theoretical underpinnings to dig into before we start getting all practical about it.

This post is going to be about what most people would call the spectrum of Agency vs Railroading. Which is a great framework that is plenty for most GMs, especially new ones. But when we start talking about Horror, it requires a more granular look at what makes it up. Because much of what makes Horror horrifying, as folks called out in the comments of last post, is the sense of loss of control. (And as a bonus, realizing the deeper components of Agency vs Railroad is going to help you craft a more satisfying game in any genre!)

Some questions to consider for yourself before I start spouting off Wordy Bastard opinions and such:

  • *WTF is Agency, really?

  • Is “Railroading” truly the opposite of that?

  • Given that I’m presenting Agency vs Railroading as a spectrum, how far into each spectrum are you comfortable with?

  • How far in either direction is “too extreme to be fun anymore” for you?*

Thought through ‘em? Good. So here’s the thing about the Forest of Agency vs Railroading… it’s made of Trees. And it can be hard to see the individual Trees because our brains are fundamentally Lazy Beasts.

But when you zoom in really close, you discover that it’s mainly just two types of Trees in this particular Forest. And each can be considered—needs to be considered—as their own separate spectrum if you want to make full use of this concept.

The two spectrums that make up Agency/Railroading are Autonomy and Freedoms. And each of those types of Tree can be broken down even further.

So, by Autonomy, I mean specifically: the degree to which the player has control over their character, and whether any portion of that control is shared with the GM (or occasionally, other players).

I’m talking about everything— from interior landscape stuff like backstory, emotions felt, goals, preferences, intentions, decisions, opinions, and reasons why—to external stuff like visceral reactions, obvious actions and how they go about them (e.g. slowly because tired, or slowly because meticulous, or slowly because it’s something they’ve never done before), how much they divide their attention and alertness to the other parts of their surroundings as they do so.

By Freedoms, I mean specifically: the range of options available to both the character and the player to choose from in trying to reach their goals or deal with their current situation.

Like Autonomy, this can be divided tidily up into two broad classes of option—Situational freedoms define what approaches and actions are available to the character within the narrative reality of the story at any given moment (There’s an Eye Beast: Attack it? How? Hide from it? Where? Run? What direction?)—and Story freedoms are about the degree of narrative control the Player has to elaborate on setting details and “world facts” like in the Spotlight Method discussed in ICRPG Vigilante City (it’s a city street, so it’s bound to have some parked cars and stoplights, right?). In more narrative abstract game systems like FATE this control can extend quite a bit further than setting.

Okay, so with that framework in place, I’m going to close this post with a grid and a quick observation about it. I used LOTR as example because more people are likely to be familiar with it than any horror flick I could pick.

Notice: LOTR is a gigantic epic, but if you look at it in chunks of story, it goes Top Right, Bottom Right, gradually Top Left creeps in, then Bottom Left AND THEN back to the Shire in Top Right Land, all flush with new heroic skills and traits and no one is in any significant danger of losing control of their character’s actions.

As with ALL gaming—but especially so with Horror Gaming, which quite often RELIES ON some kind of loss of control as the source of threat/fear (even if just as trapping)—if you start in one quadrant and stay there the whole session (or campaign) your game will likely feel stagnant, like you’re somehow leaving some money on the table and can’t figure out why.

For a horror game to feel like a Horror Game, the GM needs to have an idea how and to what degree the risk of losing Autonomy and available Freedoms will change over the course of the game. The better that trajectory matches the emotional genre arc your players are looking for = the more satisfied everyone will be with your Horror Game.

I’ll throw an example of using this in a Horror Genre in the comments. Because damn. I am a Wordy Bastard.


Lon on Horror Gaming: The Third Crucial Element
#2

Let’s take a simple Action Horror one shot: There’s a bunch of xenos creeping on my hometown, it’s getting bad. But wait! If we can make it to the armory, we can get guns and fight back!

The trajectory of this one shot would likely be from Top Left to Top Right.

Compare that to say a Survive a Cruel World style Delta Green campaign in the middle of Losing To Azathoth. Things are going tits up real fast. Sure they got guns, but PCs will realize how little value they are against Azathoth soon enough. Sure they can investigate but the answers keep pointing to things that don’t make sense or devil’s choices between a couple awful fates that are neither one going to be okay and ending up with one of them can’t be avoided. There’s a pound of brain flesh to be paid, no getting around it.

The trajectory of this campaign should probably not even hope to see the light of Top Right. So probably start in Top Left or Bottom Right for the first little while, then visit the other one for a bit, before triggering the Point of No Return and entering Bottom Left quadrant for the Lovecraftian flavored finale.

ETA
Running a High Fantasy campaign? You’re likely to hang out in Top Right mostly, but each challenge you face will likely see you visit one of the other quadrants for a Scene or Session maybe, before jumping back into Top Right again. The odds of your table enjoying more than a splash or so of Bottom Left are exceedingly slim. That’s better suited for the midpoint and end of an Epic Fantasy game.


#3

Dude, these are lovely!

I’ll get back to you about putting these in a book in two weeks or so.


#4

Brilliant.

As far as applying this to scenario design, would you look at it as, for example, Act I (Rooms 1 & 2) is Top Left, Act II (Room 3) is Bottom Right, Act III (Room 4) is Bottom Left?


#5

@Shadymutha Seems like a perfectly legit horror pattern to me. This could also make a good caper arc. They need cash and a lot of it as the only way to payoff a dangerous debt (Top Left) so they start working on a plan to rob the Maguffin Casino. As they work it, they enter Bottom Right, where the gang is variously tested by a losing time servicing that gambling addiction, chasing the allure of fast bedcompany, and maybe getting a good drunk on. Despite all this, they still have learned enough about the joint to have gained some options about how and when they will make their play at the heist. Then in Act 3 they’re committed to pulling off the heist and in the middle of it so no backtracking, but things are going wrong all over, including someone’s greed or addiction derailing their Autonomy for a clutch round or two. (Aka Bottom Left.) Will they make a clean getaway? Who knows.

Also though, Do keep in mind you never have to move several quads or be repetitive about the patterns you use. Sometimes just a good ol fashioned slide into madness from Top Left to Bottom Left is going to be plenty!


#6

I am absolutely loving these posts. Not only is it good for organizing your mind for game prep, but genuinely sound advice for regular story writing as well!


#7

That’s definitely the dirty little secret of these posts if they have one. What makes Good Gaming in any genre is the experience of a good story at table. Understanding fiction mechanics and how the brain works can point to some unique angles and opportunities for preparing encounters with enough detail to keep players engaged yet still open ended enough to allow for responsive improv and sudden course changes in the moment that still satisfy underlying brain needs for story structure.