Horror 101: A Beginner's Guide To Being Creepy Beyond All Reason. Version 1.1 So you've gotten comfortable with your group. Under your careful direction they've busted ego-smuggling rings, prevented Uplift genocide and even saved the Official 433 Eros Competitive Poledancing Team from Captain Spacebeard and her Tentacle Pirates. Now it's time to take it to the next level, and run a horror scenario. This essay has been written to provide some basic advice by touching upon the elements which define the genre and how they are usually expressed, followed with a quick and dirty example of how to put those principles into practice. Let the lesson begin... [center][b][u]1. Basic Principles.[/u][/b][/center] [indent][u]What is Horror anyway?[/u][/indent] The essence of Horror is helplessness when confronted with Terror; the [i]intolerable[/i] frisson of being confronted with a situation or entity which evokes a fight-or-flight reaction (re: something Scary) and being denied the ability to do either. In this, Horror can provoke an emotional response of a depth and power unattainable by other genres, and is concordantly more difficult to reliably evoke. There are two elements upon which Horror stories live and die; More than any other genre, Horror requires the players suspend their disbelief and become emotionally invested in the plot, which means the characters and setting must be [i]believable[/i]. If the villain acts erratically or the plot has logical errors then the players are no longer fighting for their lives against an implacable foe, but sitting around a table in utter safety. The second element is suspense. The threat to the characters must be omnipresent and immediate to keep the characters on edge, but the [i]anticipation[/i]of that threat gives the story lustre and depth. The characters cannot be given a chance to relax or forget that the threat is there, even if the source of their fear isn't actually an active presence. [indent][u]What Makes Things Scary?[/u][/indent] In order to drive the characters in a horror plot to action, they must be confronted by something Terrifying, achieved by arousal of Primal Fears and use of Indicators. Incorporating these two elements into the plotline, characters and environments is therefore the key to creating a Horror scenario. Indicators are stimuli considered disgusting, disturbing or creepy, and whilst they typically aren't frightening themselves, they signal the presence of something to be afraid of. They are tools to create tension, suspense or anxiety, and to communicate the nature of the plot on a visceral level. They can take essentially any form required, but are all based around discrepancies from how things “should” be; a breadknife in a kitchen is normal, one in the bedroom is an indicator. Whilst many things can be considered sources of fear or terror, that fear inevitably grows from so-called “Primal” or “Basic” fears, whose roots reach down to the darkest and most ancient constituents of the human psyche. In order to make a Horror scenario, these fears must be incorporated into the plotline and/or antagonists, by taking the general idea for the form of the scenario and considering in turn how each of the Primal fears is involved or expressed. In no particular order, these fears are; [i]1. Extinction.[/i] Whilst it is tempting to refer to this as the fear of death, it is more accurate to say this is the fear of ceasing to exist – that death is The End. The obvious way is to arouse this fear is by having the monster kill things, but don't expect it to have much of an effect: the disconnect between player and character will dull the bite unless the victim is a character the players are especially fond of, and re-sleeving relegates that to being little more than an annoyance. More effective are effects which threaten the character's mind or identity. Growing insanity, memory alterations and loss of continuity all function here, as do alterations to the character's emotions or personality, unexplained access to knowledge or skills, or memories of unknown origin. [i]2. Mutilation.[/i] The source of Body-Horror, this fear is centred around the integrity of the subject's physical form being compromised, and can be aroused by anything which distorts it from it's “intended” state. The most common method of evoking this fear is through the removal of elements; injuries create voids where flesh should be, from small cuts in the skin all the way up to the absence of limbs and organs, whilst disease and age cause the subject to wither and rot. The addition of improper elements can also arouse this fear, such as the presence of foreign objects, body components in the wrong place, and mutation or transformation. An important thing to keep in mind is that this fear's intensity is defined by the extent of the disfigurement rather than the amount of damage done; a monster that skins it's victims but leaves them alive is more terrifying than one that kills it's victims “cleanly”. [i]3. Isolation.[/i] Whether physical or social, humans have an implicit need to be around their peers, and the knowledge that help is far away or unreachable can be profoundly disconcerting. Stranding the group in a cave system, in the martian wilderness, on an exoplanet or on a ship will all touch on this fear, and work well for monster scenarios. Social isolation through abandonment, rejection or betrayal can be even more powerful, but is harder to use and more suited to a longer campaign. In monster scenarios, this is often expressed by the protagonists either not being believed by those they seek aid from, not being able to trust those they would otherwise depend on. [i]4.Worthlessness.[/i] This abstract fear is based upon the integrity of one's sense of self-worth. Cosmic horror revolves almost completely around this concept, by presenting a situation where the character's lives or goals are devoid of meaning. Shame and Humiliation have a similar effect, degrading the subject's ego through feelings of irrelevance. Anytime a character avoids seeking aid or performs an act because they fear ridicule or punishment, they are being driven by this fear. [i]5. Powerlessness.[/i] H.P. Lovecraft once wrote; [i]The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown”[/i], but the reason [i]why[/i] the unknown is so terrifying is that we are, by definition, helpless against it. Even the most mundane and banal things can evoke this fear if one has no control over it, such simply being in a job one does not enjoy, whilst anything that physically restrains the subject form action will act similarly. A human in the grip of this fear will do almost anything to escape from it even to the point of self-destruction; when subject to a terrible event, many will wonder why they “deserved” it, and the question of whether death is preferable to slavery is as old as slavery itself. [center][b][u]2. The Nature Of The Beast.[/u][/b][/center] Every horror story needs something to provide the source of Threat towards the characters. This is often an individual or group of antagonists but may equally be an event or condition, such as the passive apathy or hostility of the universe that defines Cosmic horror. However, even if the later is the case the pacing and effects on the characters should be equivalent to those of distinct entities, and so all possible threats and antagonists can be combined under the moniker of “Monster”. When considering the effects the Monster has on the group, there are certain elements that need to be included to set it apart from more mundane foes, starting with why the players can't just shoot it in the face - assuming it has one of course. [indent][u]Unnatural Endurance.[/u][/indent] There are two broad solutions to this quandary; either the Monster is abnormally resilient to harm, or they can be defeated piecemeal but there's always more waiting around the next corner. The second of these options is the simplest, and choosing it means the monster exists as part of a group or swarm, such as a Horde of Zombies. Individual members may still be resilient but can be defeated with sufficient effort. When representing such a Monster mechanically it can be useful to actually rule the Horde as a single entity using Swarm or Group rules as appropriate for the system, and simply ignoring effects that would apply to single members if the group. A single creature that is effectively impossible to kill is slightly more complex, both thematically and mechanically. Thematically, there needs to be some in-game reason why the Monster cannot be significantly harmed with the weapons [i]available to the characters[/i]. If they are only armed with wrenches and crowbars this can simply mean the Monster is armoured, but if the players are toting grenades and plasma weapons a tad more imagination is required. Mechanically, this will be expressed in two ways; The first will be some form of damage reduction or resistance, depending on the system. As Monsters are by definition abnormal the form of that resistance is entirely arbitrary, but should probably be kept simple to prevent the mechanics getting in the way of play. A few simple examples are having the Monsters armour ignore armour penetration values, imposing a maximum on how much damage the weapon can do, or placing a cap on how much damage the Monster can take per attack/round. The second method of expressing the monster's resiliency is by cheating; until the scenario's climax, the monster doesn't lose Durability but instead retreats from combat once amount damage value has been met. [indent][u]Nasty Big Pointy Teeth.[/u][/indent] Once the monster is capable of "Not Dying" it needs some method of inflicting harm on the Players. A common pitfall is to simply give the Monster an attack which deals large amounts of damage, but this is actively counter-productive; a horror monster needs to build suspense and tension and whilst the threat of damage is ostensibly alarming, once the attack has been made the target either dies, freeing it from the threat of further attack, or it survives which lessens the perceived threat. Good horror monster attacks are attacks which are detrimental or terrifying without being excessively deadly, such as those with a cumulative effect, those which ignore the victim's defences, or attacks which damage something other than the target's physical health. Cumulative attacks have little immediate effect but prepare the target for a separate attack with significantly greater consequences, such as the monster grabbing the victim in it's mouth before biting down as a separate attack, or the madman inserting the needle before pushing the plunger. The pause between the first and second effects allows the victim a chance to avoid the majority of the damage whilst preserving the sense of danger associated with a high-damage attack. Attacking something other than health takes advantage of an interesting mental quirk in gamers; whilst an average gamer can watch his character take vast amounts of damage and feel mere alarm, threatening his gear will arouse outright panic. There are multiple ways to express this depending on the nature of the Monster. The simplest versions are to have the monster's attacks deal SV in addition to DV or have the attacks reduce the victim's armour. Other possibilities are attacks which give wounds or traumas in addition to those caused by DV or SV, or by draining Rez points or Moxie. It should be noted that any losses dealt should be [i]temporary[/i], otherwise the player's tension and and alarm at the monster may transforming into [i]actual[/i]anger at it's controller. Permanent effects should be restricted to the domain of Plot points, and applied with purpose and forethought. [indent][u]Special Effects.[/u][/indent] The final note for a monster are it's special abilities; those little details which give the monster character and flavour and more importantly allow the monster to get around the players' machinations and generate tension. What the monster can do is limited purely by the nature of the setting, but there are some very simple guidelines to narrow down the infinity of possibilities; 1. A monster should have one or two abilities to allow it to engage or escape from the players, or influence them without being present. These need not be especially showy or dramatic so long as they are consistent with the monster's nature; a Werewolf tearing through a wall is infinitely more preferable than having it teleport through, despite the ultimate effect being similar. If the Monster's presence is implausible some related element can be used instead; the Alien couldn't be there, but a Facehugger could. 2. If possible, keep the list of abilities small. The fewer distinct abilities a Monster has, the easier it will be for the players to suspend their disbelief. 3. Unless it's [i]absolutely[/i] necessary, avoid granting the Monster new abilities in-game. Giving new abilities to defeat the players is sometimes necessary to keep the plot moving, but if they get wind of it then all the atmosphere and goodwill will vanish in a burst of annoyance as they cease to be invested in the game. Even if this hazard is avoided there remains the serious risk of rendering some other aspect of the plot nonsensical, again risking the suspension of disbelief. [indent][u]The Unimportance Of Numbers.[/u][/indent] Those uncomfortable creating stats for antagonists shouldn't worry too much as the specific numbers representing the Monster's abilities are secondary to the nature of those abilities, and can be modified on the fly. A monster should never be able to fail at something it can do under normal circumstances, so rolls should only come into play when in direct opposition to the characters. A skill level of around 60 should suffice when a monster is good at an ability, and around 80 on those abilities it excels at. Stat blocks are useful, but largely because their creation helps create a more complete picture of the monster's abilities, or for consistency should the Monster make a repeat performance in a later scenario. [center][b][u]3. Impossible Landscapes.[/u][/b][/center] [indent][u]Setting The Scene.[/u][/indent] The environment in horror scenarios initially performs the same role as in other genres – it provides context and depth to the plot, can provide challenges and threats to the characters, and provides methods to gain information about the story. As such it's fairly easy to convert a given environment to the horror genre using Indicators which either complement those of the Monster to touch on more primal fears, or reflect them to create an appropriate atmosphere and give information about the antagonist before they actually appear. The atmosphere can be further intensified by attaching indicators or threats to the tasks that the characters must perform to progress the scenario – that is, make the acts they need to perform to proceed those they normally baulk at. As with the Monster the feeling of danger is more important than the actual level of threat. By implying a computer system is infected with an Exsurgent virus, or placing a plot-item in a room filled with an unknown Nano-Plague, it's possible to foster intense distress even if there is no virus and the Nanites simply cause excessive full-body hair growth. [indent][u]Hidden Dangers.[/u][/indent] Environments also perform the important task of picking up design elements that would otherwise be confined to the Monster, or may even act as the Monster all by themselves. The most blatant and useful example of this is to confine the characters to the monster's hunting grounds and preventing them from escaping it's influence. Passive examples include simple locked doors, incremental weather or being in space, whilst active methods involve labyrinths of death-traps or hostile entities. It should be noted that this is an [i]extremely[/i] important element that is all too often neglected; it is easy to rely on the willingness of the players to keep them within the confines of the scenario, but this simply depends on the players ignoring a flaw in the story rather than repairing that flaw. This needn't be physical, a psychological or character-specific restraint can work if it's sufficiently compelling – just be prepared for the character/player deciding that that remaining isn't worth it. [indent][u]The Use Of Language.[/u][/indent] Regardless of genre but especially in Horror games, when considering the descriptions of the locations (or monsters for that matter) it pays to consider how the environment effects [i]all[/i] the senses, rather than just sight. Describing how the air smells or the texture of the walls under the character's hands solidifies the area in the players' minds, drawing them into the scenario. This applies regardless of genre, but is especially useful in horror. Similarly, the use of baroque or evocative language draws attention and focus important features whilst conjuring associations to guide the player's and character's responses. Creating a small list of descriptions whilst designing the location can help to cement the “feel” of the area, and provides a handy resource to be used in-session. [center][b][u]4. General Tips.[/u][/b][/center] [indent][u]Give It A Twist.[/u][/indent] Whilst by no means necessary a twist in the story is always an enjoyable element to make a story memorable. The trick is that a good twist must make sense and be, paradoxically, predictable on some level. Once the twist has been revealed the players should be able to look back and see that it was always there, but they missed it due to in-character deception or through their own false assumptions. [indent][u]Know When To Stop.[/u][/indent] It's easy to go overboard with indicators, powers or baroque vocabulary. Only provide abilites or details enough to convey the message, and then [i]stop[/i]. The exact level is going to be dependent on the players so pay attention to their mood; if they look like they're drowning, you've gone too far. [indent][u]Don't Cross The Streams.[/u][/indent] If at all possible avoid adding more than one Monster type to the scenario, unless the interaction of the Monsters is vital to the plot. It may seem interesting but more often than not it simply acts to dilute the effect of both or confuse the players. In this case, the whole is almost always less than the sum of it's parts. [indent][u]The Ladder Of Success.[/u][/indent] A useful trick when writing the climax is to consider multiple endings or circumstances depending on the group's successes and failures throughout the scenario. A “Ladder of Success” can help keep track of what's happened, and what that means. Simply create a table with two columns; on the left, write a clue or effect the players can acquire during the scenario, and on the right put what effect that has on the climax. Then write out the climax as a worst-case when they fail at everything, and modify it according to the Ladder as necessary. [indent][u]Player Agency.[/u][/indent] The great paradox of horror is that whilst the characters must be helpless there must nonetheless be some possibility of overcoming that helplessness; there must appear to be a possible solution to the problem, even if it doesn't actually exist. Using a Monster or modelling the acts of a situation as a Monster helps to solve this problem, as it implies that the threat can be understood, defeated or evaded. This needn't be the case, but the possibility should suffice to prod the characters into action. It may well be that there is no way to defeat the threat and that all the characters' struggles are for naught, but that's a revelation for the climax of the scenario rather than the beginning, with the plotline being essentially one long red herring. Thinking about the scenario's storyline as a whole and how the character arcs are to develop can help keep this in mind, so the realization that the characters' actions were futile becomes a bittersweet resolution to the characters' actions rather than impeding them. [indent][u]Epilogue.[/u][/indent] Once the scenario has come to a close it's worthwhile giving the players a short epilogue, even if the character's can't know about it, detailing how the Monster has only been defeated rather than destroyed. Alluding that a zombie escaped the purge, or that an alien egg remains intact, can provide the final layer of varnish to a satisfactory scenario. [center][b][u]5. Example Scenario - “A Question of Responsibility”.[/u][/b][/center] Let's say that I want my group to investigate a hidden research laboratory run by Project Ozma. I know that I want this to be a Monster scenario, which will either be an Agent or one of the experiments, but that's all I know going in. Looking through the Primal Fears for inspiration presents an interesting possibility; the monster is both Agent and Experiment, who has been betrayed ([i]Isolation[/i]) and converted into a test subject ([i]Extinction/Mutilation[/i]) against their will ([i]Powerlessness[/i]) because of an earlier failure on a mission ([i]Worthlessness[/i]). Let's call it "The Convict", and that it was an agent the players defeated in an earlier scenario. Now I know what it is, it's time do decide what it does. The transformation into the Convict is solidly Extinction so we'll carry that forward with an attack that harms the target's sense of self. ASync abilities jump to mind here, and that fits well with the experimentation theme. The simplest method for this will be an attack which also deals SV, but let's go a bit further – the attacks don't just damage the Ego, they actually change it, implanting self-destructive urges and the drive to betray the group! To represent this, SV loss will be cumulative for generating traumas, and those gained will be based around distrust, sorrow, and treachery. Unfortunately, aSync powers don't work on Synthmorphs... or at least, they [i]shouldn't[/i]. This problem suggests an interesting avenue of experimentation for the Lab – they were researching how to translate aSync powers into a digital medium. Another problem is that aSync powers need skin contact to work and the players are going to be wearing armour. There needs to be some way for the attack to worm it's way through the player's defences... such as wormlike tendrils growing out of it's hands, penetrating the armour and flesh of the victim, and providing a Mutilation Indicator. This should suffice for offence, so it's time to worry about keeping the Convict alive. The Convict used to be an Ozma agent which would suggest body armour as an option, and incorporating bare flesh into the design can act as another Indicator. The aSync aspect also provides an interesting option in the form of Precognition, which can be easily leveraged into a defence – it can tell where the characters are going to fire, and move to avoid the shot, represented by a -20 penalty to the attacking character's MoS. Both the attack and defence are interesting abilities so I won't give the Convict any more special powers, and shift them to the Lab instead. Automatic turrets can can provide combat if necessary, and drugs or other substances in the air provide further possibilities. What's missing now is something to keep the Convict away from the Players whilst they're exploring the Lab. It's doubtful that the workers there wanted it wandering around willy nilly, or worse yet [i]leaving[/i], so there has to be something confining it which we can expand to keep it in certain sections of the lab. We've already been using mental manipulation as a theme, so lets run with that and say the Convict has been behaviourally altered to stay within certain areas marked with purple light. On the other hand, it needs to be able to do something to the characters outside those area, so let's say that it can overcome the restraint temporarily but the mental effort weakens it's powers – now we have a reason for it to retreat from combat as necessary. As times goes by this restriction can be weakened, allowing the Convict to get at the players and eventually escape. A standard layout for the Lab can be used, with research labs, holding cells, living quarters and so forth. I don't want anyone else there, so I'll say it's been recently deserted, with signs of hurried evacuation. The players will show up, and after they've looked around a bit they'll meet the Convict which will keep them from leaving – they can find safety in the inner labs where the Monster can't go... yet. In order to creep the place up a bit, some indicators are called for; - [i]The facility is on low power mode so the lighting is intermittent and weak.[/i] - [i]The air won't have been circulating so I'll describe it as stagnant, tainted with disinfectant and sweat.[/i] - [i]The walls are cold and unyielding.[/i] - [i]A surgical room, scoured clean save for a child's doll on the floor under the operating table.[/i] - [i]Empty cells with class doors, one with a smear of blood at head height.[/i] As a side effect of the trace chemicals in the air and as an allusion to the nature of the monster, I'll say the characters suffer from headaches or mild hallucinations, increasing in severity as time goes on – simple whispering or impressions of motion should be enough. Now all I need are clues and elements for the group to discover to help them defeat the Convict. Research recordings can provide backstory and give the group ideas, and the automated turrets can be subverted to provide assistance. The most vital element will be an aSync-suppressant gas which they can release into the ventilation to weaken the Convict' powers and give them a chance. Looking back, I seem to have everything I need. The player will investigate a hidden aSync research laboratory, supposedly abandoned but really inhabited by a warped and defiled creature - a minor foe betrayed by the organisation they trusted. To escape with their minds and bodies intact they'll have to uncover the dark secrets of the Laboratory and the experiments performed within before their foe breaks free of it's constraints. For the epilogue, I just need to allude to the other experiments the lab may have contained, and why it was abandoned – an open mystery I can build upon in the future. From this point forward preparation will be the same as any other scenario; drawing up maps, writing NPC dialogue and creating statblocks. [i]“You turn around, and see a figure where moments ago there were only shadows. For a moment, it appears as though someone has tried to force a suit of combat armour into a hollowed out human skin, but you realise that skin is actually bonded to the dark blue composite, the pale flesh blending visibly with the plating.[/i] [i]It extends an arm towards you, and crimson worms burrow out of the the figure's palm, writhing hungrily towards you with sharp, bony tips.[/i] [i]Roll Will times Two, and then Initiative.”[/i] [center][b][u]6. Final Thoughts.[/u][/b][/center] Whilst this has been written with Eclipse Phase in mind the principles within apply regardless of setting or media, and the topic has been presented in a very formulaic manner as it is supposed to cover the very [i]basics[/i]of writing Horror. Ultimately, these are all simply guidelines to be broken as needed. The vital element is that when a rule is broken, thought should be given as to [i]why[/i]it needs breaking, and what effect that will have on the plot's timbre. I hope that that this has proven helpful. Now go out there, and teach your players that they have nothing to fear but fear itself... and [i]you[/i]. --- So, fellow Forum Dwellers, what do you think? If I've missed a point, or something needs more detail, or you just plain disagree, please post – all questions, comments and criticisms are more than welcome :D.