On Terror & Horror (by bawylie)

[Bawylie]

To frame what I'm talking about, Wikipedia: "The distinction between horror and terror is a standard literary and psychological concept applied especially to Gothic literature and film.[1] Terror is usually described as the feeling of dread and anticipation that precedes the horrifying experience. By contrast, horror is the feeling of revulsion that usually occurs after something frightening is seen, heard, or otherwise experienced. It is the feeling one gets after coming to an awful realization or experiencing a deeply unpleasant occurrence. In other words, horror is more related to being shocked or scared (being horrified), while terror is more related to being anxious or fearful.[2] Horror has also been defined as a combination of terror and revulsion."

Alright, good. Now, if you know me, you know I write adventures to cultivate specific emotions or experiences. While I know some of these things can come naturally (or organically) from play, I still prefer to guide and direct and evoke desired responses in my players.

One thing I have some difficulty doing is terrifying them. Horror is fine. Scaring is fine (particularly jump-scares). But terror is a kind of anticipatory dread.

I'd say I'm relatively lethal as a DM, but these D&D characters (regardless of editions past 1e wizards) feel so capable, so heroic, that terror is a difficult seed to plant and harder still to cultivate.

I use framing, call-forwards, telegraphing, and surprise (so I am familiar with and competent to execute a lot of the tools that go with my game-style), but I'm still having a terror-block. I believe it's because the players don't have fear for their characters' well-being until they're actually IN a bad way. I want to start that fear earlier, though, and take it on a roller coaster ride.

So instead of a "by numbers" post, I'm asking: Have you felt terror at the table? Under what circumstances? Have you seen it in someone else? Under what circumstances? Have you created it? What did you do? Do you have this problem as well? What are the best ways to scare your players - without actual DOING anything to the characters?

-Brad

 

[sleypy]

Page 1

My DM did bad things to us and then conditioned us with a sound effect to know when those bad things might be happening later.


Eberron; a rocky coast of Khorvaire. The party of five is searching for a mysterious cult amid misty night and an abandonded town which just that morning had been filled with good people. Something weird is going on, but it's D&D. We fear not night nor nasties. We come across a building torn down with a strange circle in it. As we approach two things happen. Seven forms in cloaks step out from the buildings and surround us. And the DM plays the Lavos scream from Chrono Trigger. We jump, he laughs and then, cruelly, asks us roll will saves. Robert the Drunken Luckcleric (me) saves. The sorcerer does fine. The bard fails. We laugh at how poorly she rolled but we aren't worried; it's the bard. The rogue barely saves.


Then our one shotting, min-maxing fist fighter, sticky grab pirate half-orc fails his save. And freaking murders the bard and sorcerer in two rounds before getting out of it. Robert saves them, and then we barely manage to win the fight.


A few nights go by and we aren't worrying about much as we investigate something else.


We get into a fight and things are going fine. And the DM plays that sound again. He doesn't ask for any checks this time and says that while we feel a psychic pressure, we don't feel any compelling. The cry is from too far away. Now we're freaking out and continue to do so any time that sound pops up for weeks until we kill the thing that was making it.


Set up, teach the players to be afraid of something and then keep them on their toes with it. If they think they found away around it, bring it back and make it worse for their efforts. Teach them fear the way you teach a dog to sit. Strong reinforcement.

I like this. The groundwork does involve negative conditioning - in other words, you have to do something to them. But this works.


I wonder if there ARE ways to terrify without training?

bawylie wrote: So instead of a "by numbers" post, I'm asking: Have you felt terror at the table? Under what circumstances? Have you seen it in someone else? Under what circumstances? Have you created it? What did you do? Do you have this problem as well? What are the best ways to scare your players - without actual DOING anything to the characters?

I can recall a time when the players were really freaked out by a couple of things in the Paizo adventure path "The Shackled City," which I ran in 3.5e but changed it up to be set in Sharn (Eberron). The first time was during the 1st-level adventure which was a dungeon complex. In that complex were dark stalkers and dark creepers which are particularly good at hiding. So I had one of them hidden sort of in a doorway in a 5' wide hallway. As one character passed by, I took a surprise attack and offed his character immediately - dead as disco. (Easy enough to do in that edition at 1st level.) I guess that's the horror. But what followed was the terror because the rest of the players were so scared they didn't even approach the body of their fallen friend.


In that same adventure path, the characters had earned their way into being invited to a posh party thrown by the city's elite many of whom (unbeknownst to the players at the time) were villains involved in the campaign's primary conspiracy. It was a masquerade ball that was symbolic of some kind of victory of a demon lord long ago with people dressing as heroes or demons and whatnot. (Struggling to remember all the details - it was 8 years ago or something.) One of the player's invitations indicated he was to dress as that demon lord and during the party he got a lot of deference paid to him by all these high-ups. It started to really weird him out. The scene culminated in a ritualized mock combat between him and NPC playing the part of the hero that slew the demon lord. I downloaded that weird music from Eyes Wide Shut (the ritual scene in the mansion) and had it on a loop during this bit. He fully expected to be sacrificed but that never came to pass. There was a lot of tension in that game, plenty of terror but no horror.


Of late, I haven't been trying to evoke terror or horror in the players with D&D. I just don't think it's the right fit. I could probably do it and reliably so, but I've instead been turning up the volume on what I think D&D is chiefly about - heroic fantasy action/adventure. Perhaps I'll try my hand at a Ravenloft thing after I'm done with the Planescape one-shot I'm working on now for D&D Next and the super-optimized PC one-shot "Min/Max Beyond Thunderdome" that my players challenged me to create for D&D 4e.


Have you tried the whole Jenga block thing from the Dread RPG? That probably makes for good terror. I haven't tried it myself and I know you're a fan of minigames.

WFRP game. Warp Stone dust. (evil mutagen that can make you crazy)


We got covered in it. We didn't know what affect it will have. We still don't know what effect it had on us, but our DM said not to worry, when you encounter the right monster, you'll know.


Also, it helps if you can play suspensful music

bawylie wrote:I like this. The groundwork does involve negative conditioning - in other words, you have to do something to them. But this works.


I wonder if there ARE ways to terrify without training?

The training has to happen at some point. It can be part of the characters background story or part of the premise of the adventure, but at some point the characters had to have a source that cause them to be afraid.

I have used the jenga technique for suspense-based challenges. Suspense is a mild form of terror, perhaps. Maybe I can expand on that.

sleypy wrote:

bawylie wrote:I like this. The groundwork does involve negative conditioning - in other words, you have to do something to them. But this works.


I wonder if there ARE ways to terrify without training?

The training has to happen at some point. It can be part of the characters background story or part of the premise of the adventure, but at some point the characters had to have a source that cause them to be afraid.

One minor-ish thing. The characters feel whatever the players say they feel and I don't care. I want the Players to feel the terror.

Cover the Jenga blocks in deadly spiders maybe?

iserith wrote:Cover the Jenga blocks in deadly spiders maybe?

Horror.

I think I'd be terrified - anxious and fearful at having to pull a block to resolve an outcome in doubt. Obviously, putting deadly spiders on the thing is farsical but wouldn't that be terror? Seeing the spiders is horror... having to pull blocks covered by them is terror?

Originally posted by sleypy:

bawylie wrote:So instead of a "by numbers" post, I'm asking: Have you felt terror at the table? Under what circumstances? Have you seen it in someone else? Under what circumstances? Have you created it? What did you do? Do you have this problem as well? What are the best ways to scare your players - without actual DOING anything to the characters?

No. Not ever. I have seen other people get scared, but most of them scare easily and wasn't due to anything special at the table. Its been pretty binary. Either the person scares easily or they do not. When it is someone that I know scares easy and is interest in that kind of game. You have to play on their real life fears to create it in the game. Keeping it dark and quiet around the game table before and during the game. Speaking quietly and giving clipped descriptions and never answering any question with absolutes. When players start joking around give out a important piece of information and when they ask you to repeat yourself say things like "don't worry, it wasn't important."

I HATE horror stories, and I HATE being terrified. I scream and jump during scary movies, especially the JUMP OUT AND SCARE YOU BOO! type of movies. Slasher flicks? No. Gorn? Nuh-uh. Monster movies? Nada. Can't deal with it.


AND YET.....


...I love running horror sessions. I love building terror in my players. I think I'm okay with running it because I'm not the one being scared. Since I know what's coming, what's in the shadows, what made that sound, I feel safe and secure.


Horror is easy. As Bawylie identified, horror is revulsion coupled with fear, typically of fear that what is revolting will happen to you. Terror is the hard part. Terror is anticipation. Terror is being scared that something scary is going to happen. Terror is, like, meta-fear. It's being afraid of being afraid.


Terror lies in the space between knowing and not knowing. If the players are completely unaware, blissfully ignorant of their peril, then all you can get is shock. Shock is good sometimes, but it's not terrifying by itself. it can be a catalyst for terror, by letting the players know there is something "out there" to be terrified of (or rather, to be terrified of being horrified...). Terror comes from knowing that there is something to be scared of, but not knowing what that something *is*, where it is, and when it will happen.


Terror is knowing enough to know that you don't want to know more.


So, how to do terror? It's imparting knowledge, little by little, and you'll likely have to play off of tropes. I wish I could break it down for you like your excellent "By the numbers" posts, and I believe it can be broken down that way; I'm just not capable of doing that. I just do it through feel. I use background music pretty liberally. BBEG have "theme songs", and when I start to play the theme song when he isn't physically there, the players react. Sometimes the BBEG is present, but not in front of the PCs. The music is a presage to his entrance. Other times I use the theme to indicate infliuence, where the BBEG has sway over the situation, even if not physically there.


For example: I ran a Star Wars-ian space opera game a while back. There was a Darth Vader-like character who was generally an to the universe. He had a theme. When, much later, the party defeated some bounty hunters, I played the theme, and the players made the connection. When the party came across a ruined settlement on a distant planet, I played the theme quietly as they explored the buildings and remains. They made the connection: The Darth Vader guy did this. Even if not directly, his presence in the universe has had ripple effects, and this settlement is ruined because he exists.


The music imparts knowledge without getting explicit. The players make their own connections or associations. I guess that's the key. The players have to make the connection or association on their own. They have to connect the things they are experiencing now with the things they think might happen. They hear the wolf howl in the distance. The shadows move on the periphery of their vision. But there has to be a payoff. They can't all be red herrings. If there's no payoff, no eventual reveal, then they begin to not be concerned about the howls and shadows. Those all become inconsequential details that amount to puffery.


I dunno. I'm rambling. Hope this helps.

Foxy has articulated my problem better than I did!


Now, doing it by feel I think is right, but you have to know what you're feeling. How do you know when the groundwork your laying is making connections? How do you know when it's coming off as background noise?


There has to be evidence of a threat, a Phantom Menace, if you will. But there also has to be a payoff - a manifestation of that threat, in some form, to seal the deal.


I think we need to explore further the "evidence" bit. What makes for terrifying menace?

Got a couple terror/horror moments just in my last game this past Saturday.


Approach of 7 hobgoblin airships towards the fortress the players were guarding: Terror


Summoning of 6000 demons to combat the hobgoblins and butcher them to the last man: Horror


Creeping realization as they investigate matters that the 6 mile-wide sphere of annihilation-bomb they unleashed a couple weeks ago has had unforeseen, possibly catastrophic consequences: Terror


Watching their King and brother NPC of the parties barbarian gut & then decapitate a duke to ascertain power over a city fairly out of the blue: Horror


Upcoming terror will be when/if they start to realize that the King has had his mind hijacked by the disembodied psyche of a mind-flayer experiment they brutally executed a couple days ago.


Upcoming horror will be when they realize the missing ley-lines from the annihilation-bomb have coalesced into a Jormungand, a guardian of the planets magic that takes the form of a hydra large enough to literally reach the clouds (about 8000-10000 ft tall)


Upcoming terror will then be realizing that that is only the first jormungand and that it's arrival will herald other smaller ones (though smaller is HIGHLY relative in this case).

I think you have to show reasons for the terror that work both on the character level and the player level. In the days of level drain, my characters were terrified and horrified when dealing with undead with that power. If I have some metagaming players, I might start rolling d20's a lot to generate the feeling that they are missing something. You have to threaten them on all levels.


Maybe leave evidence that a more powerful group was slaughtered by the villian they now seek. Lost diaries can help.


I also find having a large monster like a dragon approach from a distance can build tension. Or perhaps a ghostly wind that keeps tearing at their clothes or snatchng paper out of their hands. Shadows can be scary if used right.


I find having a monster they can't identify or who exhibits power that is hard to classify can be fearsome. Finding NPCs who've been affected in some mysterous way via curses or strange conditions can help.


Players are in my experience smart so scaring them is not easy if they don't perceive that their characters are genuinely threatened.

Doing things by "feel" often means you have to draw from experience. Having to either experience are seen the causes of the fear first hand.

I'll have to disagree with the whole smart thing. Being more intelligent doesn't prevent you from being afraid. Its very often the case that people who get afraid easily had some form of tramatic experience in the past. Also, rational and intelligent doesn't go hand and hand.

As they say on rpg.stackexchange. If you want players to fear some terrible fate, you have to be willing to "pull the trigger", and they have to know you are willing to pull the trigger. The only way for them to know, is for them to experience it.

Terror = they have to know that there might be things happening beyond their control that bode very ill for them or things they like


Horror = seeing bad things actually-factually happen to them or things they like


A paper-tiger only goes so far.


The players have to know that things in the game may actually go down in ways they are not prepared for...and that things may be personally lost that they really, truly wish were not gone. We value things because they are hard to replace. If a PC is (or has) something hard to replace...the players will fear for it. Terror/horror then comes about as a natural outcome fo legitimate danger.

Do those things actually create Terror or Horror though? I'm just not seeing how the possibility of character death is going to inspire either. The player isn't going to face real fear and the character is going to be as scared as the player decides they are.


In my living cthulhu game players can only have two characters per season and are eliminated for the rest of the season if both characters die. I have yet to see any anxious looks., even from the table that gets flag as "deadly."

I think then that being emotionally invested is a prerequisite to terror. Anticipated loss, though, isn't the only terror. Fear of what won't happen, fear of what will - but in either case it still has to be 1.) conceivably possible or likely 2.) related to something players are attached to.

Terror aside, what techniques do you use to encourage players to become emotionally invested? (Perhaps that will reveal some ideas to getting the terror angle down.)

bawylie wrote:I think then that being emotionally invested is a prerequisite to terror. Anticipated loss, though, isn't the only terror. Fear of what won't happen, fear of what will - but in either case it still has to be 1.) conceivably possible or likely 2.) related to something players are attached to.

Yes. One has to care.


When George Sirett (a prominent NPC in my game) was murdered by one of the PCs, when they found out there was legitimate horror that it had happened. Same as when the king slew the Duke. in both cases there was complete silence for quite a while as people just had to try and process it. In the first case, they really liked the NPC and he was helpful to them...so his death was very impactful. In the second case, they were prepared for the king to cede authority...something they didn't want really but had come to accept...so the complete reversal and surprising action took them off guard...the suddenness and unexpected brutality of it resulted in some real, mouth-agape horror.


Good times.


Oh for another example...


We do a lot of stuff via email between sessions to maximize our game time...it was via email that I revealed the arrival of the 7 hobgoblin airships by sending a picture of them. Saturday, Bob who plays the gnome sorcerer told me (and I quote) "Man that email ruined my day" and we had a laugh...but he was at least partially serious. His heart SANK when he saw those airships.

That's a complicated stew.


I create NPCs that are complex, friendly, helpful, & memorable.


I create resources and contacts.


I reward positive & proactive action.


i identify their goals and offer leads on progress toward them.


I pull the rug out from beneath them.


I hurt them.


I threaten existential death (character sheet in the shredder).


I read their faces and react. These sorts of things.

I've been thinking about this some more, and I remembered another example from my past. It was terrifying, but not necessarily horrific, so it might help isolate where the terror comes from.


The basic gist was that the PCs were exploring a dungeon complex that had long been abandoned, and the PCs were in search of a MacGuffin and whatever treasure they could find along the way. I had conditioned them to expect traps and a few "natural" monsters (beasts and bugs, as opposed to social monsters like goblins or gnolls). What was the rumble, where was that heat coming from? Players began to wonder, and more than a couple suspected something "was up". To help prolong the suspense, I "paid off" the sounds with seeing ruined masonry and stonework collapse and rumble. It sounded similar to the rumble they heard earlier, didn't it? This also had the benefit of introducing them to my "avoiding damage from falling stone" mechanic which would come into play later. They found themselves blasted with hot air from vents below, most of them natural. A little investigation revealed that this dungeon was built upon an active geothermal location, and the original inhabitants used it for a power source. Okay, so tension relieved, but danger increasing. This place could crumble at anytime, and the deeper they went the hotter it became.


Yet something was off.


The various natural beasts that lived in the dungeon complex liked heat; that's why they lived there. Yet they became less prevalent the deeper the party delved, contrary to expectations. There was definitely *something* that was keeping the wildlife from going to deep. Huge piles of rubble dotted the large hallways, most of them obscuring huge holes in the walls, with giant passageways running through the earth. The original builders certainly hadn't made those. So, now I have players definitely certain that something was "out there", but they had no idea what it was.


One of the greatest moments was when they found the remains of a giant purple worm, way bigger than any purple worm had any right to be. First, elation at having figured out what made the tunnels adjoining the hallways. Then, concern over what killed it. Lastly, fear that whatever *did* kill it still lived nearby. I should note that the party was around 5th level. They now felt way out of their element. Whatever was out there was way beyond them.


Right around the time the party began to question the wisdom of going forward and finding the MacGuffin, there was a cave-in. It was a cool little scene that spiked up the immediate threat and adrenaline of the party. Roll to dodge falling rocks, save for damage, use their cleverness to survive, etc. It broke the rising tension, provided some catharsis. But in the end, the way back was blocked. They'd have to find another way out; that meant going deeper, or using the side tunnels. Was this railroady? Yeah, probably. It also brought the tension right back, with the dial turned up a bit. Not only was there something down there, they now were more or less trapped with no immediate way to get out of the situation. They were going to have to confront whatever it was that they least wanted to confront. They were now terrified.

Didn't Ravenloft call this a malign change of perspective?


The idea being that whatever this is, it's within your comfort zone, and then you gradually peel away the comfort zone and put them in an alien experience.


Like a terror being gradually increased to a horror. Interesting.


Ps foxy, don't let me stop you writing a "by numbers."

bawylie wrote:That's a complicated stew.


I create NPCs that are complex, friendly, helpful, & memorable.


I create resources and contacts.


I reward positive & proactive action.


i identify their goals and offer leads on progress toward them.


I pull the rug out from beneath them.


I hurt them.


I threaten existential death (character sheet in the shredder).


I read their faces and react. These sorts of things.

All those are things that I would like in a game (though I don't really like the 3rd one.) However, none of these things would make me scared; it all sounds awesome and would all make me extremely happy cause that is what I want out of a campaign.

I think it comes down to control. We feel scared when we are out of control, when we realize that things happen and we can't influence them. My players were scared and worried about the big something, but they didn't really become terrified until they realized that they couldn't avoid it. There was an inevitability to the threat, whatever it was, that hung over them.


The found a dropped shoe, and they were now waiting for the other shoe to drop. The other shoe, they realized, was going to drop no matter what, and they had no idea what it was how it was going to happen.


They knew enough to know that they didn't want to find out and know more, but they also knew they were going to find out, and that's what the terror comes from.


Think about the teen slasher flick. Aside from it being overplayed and somewhat rote, examine how the audience gets terrified. The blonde girl goes out on her own. She enters the dark room. "Hello?" she calls out. Is the character terrified? Probably not. She's scared perhaps, but she's more likely curious. Why else would she be investigating? The audience is terrified for her, because we know something she doesn't know. We know there's a killer on the loose, and we expect the killer to kill. Dramatic irony. We don't know how she's going to die, but we know she's going to die (at least, if the movie is playing it straight and not subverting tropes). Our terror comes from knowing yet not knowing. The filmakers know this, so they can play with us, the audience. The girl can explore the room, turn on the lights and find there's nothing. It was only a tree branch scraping the window, or something. Phew.


Then BAM! THE KILLER JUMPS OUT AS SHE LEAVES THE ROOM AAAAAAAAHHHH!


Or not. Maybe she lives even longer. The filmakers can stretch out the tension. Maybe things stay dark. Maybe a cat jumps out of the trash can, and there's a rattle in the alleyway. A gust of wind, perhaps. Or was that something rushing by her quickly?


The point is that we the audience are separate from the character. Her terror isn't our terror, and our terror isn't hers. With an RPG, that isn't the case. The audience is the character and vice versa.


When we watch the teen slasher flick, we aren't in control. We can only watch helplessly as the girl stumbles about in the dark, oblivious to her own peril. We shout "Don't go in there!" because we know what she doesn't know. We are out of control.


So, to incite terror in your players, you need to make them feel like they are out of control. You can't rob them of their autonomy, else you're not playing an RPG anymore. But you have to make them feel helpless.

Creating things that the players like, making them feel like those things are always going to be there and then ripping them out of their hands suddenly and unexpectedly. Or hinting that those things might/will/could be taken from them. One good trick is to remember that you don't know which NPC the players are going to like. It might be the sweet daughter of the farmer who was killed in that kobold attack. It might be the hilariously inept but humbly selfless and chivalric noble. It might be the funny good aligned goblin who hangs around the party from time to time offering them "expies." Heck it might be one of the villains who, devilish actions notwithstanding, is happy to share a meal with the heroes and offer them a spot in his organization if they ever see fit to change sides.


Make NPC's fun. Make note of which NPC's the players think are interesting. And then very carefully choose one to threaten. Make plays to real fears. Adult fears.


Kidnap the girl. Murder the nobleman. Disappear the goblin. Give a note from Dr. Affable.


Not all at once. Not even all of those. Pick which one you think would most threaten them and why.


The girl is someone that they have helped before. Make sure they have seen her time and again throughout earlier adventures. She offered her house as shelter even when the town wanted to run the group out. She always welcomed the group and would send letters even as they traveled the country. Now someone has taken her away. Why? Who? Is it to strike back at the group? Who else has gone missing that the group doesn't even know about?


Dr. Affable's letter is a sign that things are ramping up. He sends a letter asking for help from the people he has faced off with before, but ended on good terms with. He might even have beaten them before, but spared their lives because he's such a good sport. If he's asking for help, what the hell is threatening him?


And so on. I'm no DM,but these sorts of things are really more about story building than anything else. It's harder because you have to subtly guide 5 people to begin to ask the questions from which the dread is derived and then begin to frustrate their efforts to get the answers a bit. Atmosphere, props, sound effects. All of these can help, but ultimately you want to have a list of questions that you want to hear asked or hinted at being asked by the players at the table. Then they are on the right track, and the questions are doing their job, grinding out that little adrenaline drip of fear in the back of their minds.


Does anyone have a particular movie or book that might be helpful in showing these tension building techniques? For the use of sound to empty the viewers bowels, I will always point to What Lies Beneath with Harrison Ford. I can't watch that darn movie without muting it.

Part of this is that players with good, vivid imaginations help. I was once running a World of Darkness game for some friends, and one amongst our number was there to hang out, but wasn't really into rpgs. Now, I never got gory. I never got graphic. My watchword though, was atmosphere. About five minutes into the setting, he had to leave because he was too freaked out, and it wasn't because he thought we were weird or anything. He made it clear that the narrative was simply too scary, and that if he hung around any longer he wouldn't be able to sleep that night. What scared the hell out of him like that? An abandoned office building, dark, low-lit corridors, and some strange signs that something maybe not human had been there. Every once in a while a PC would hear whispers close behind them, turn to look, and nothing would be there. No gore, no grotesque beast, no jump scare, nothing but details designed to set a specific tone.


One of the most powerful atmospheric tools a writer has in their arsenal is that of lighting. The degree and color of the lighting can really set the tone for a scene. And playing off tropes really does help, one of the best ones being "nothing scarier than your imagination." There is a horror movie out there that had really terrible writing. A nonsensical plot, flat characters, and sometimes the event sequences were so dumb it was comical. But I've yet to see a film that does terror as well as this one. I speak of course, of The Strangers. The Strangers is a great horror movie much in the same way that The Marine is a great action movie, or The One is a great martial art movie. Phenomenal representation of genre tropes, but weak at best in the literary department.


There's this one scene in particular that I'm thinking of where there's a close-up of someone washing dishes, and we see her face well, but we also get a kind of reverse over-the-shoulder shot of the hallway behind her that leads to the rest of the house. It's night, and the lights aren't all on, so the hallway kind of gets swalled by the yawning dark. Then, we slowly see this sickly, pale face - which we later recognize as a mask- emerge from the dark, and just watch. It just stares at the woman doing the dishes -and due to the angle, the viewers as well- for several seconds before vanishing back into the abyss. It was an amazing bit of cinematography. What was notable about that sequence was that there was no sound accompanying the reveal apart from what you would expect in the real world. There was no chime or tone, just a person washing some dishes in a sink. With each sequence though, with each reveal, the killer(s) get progressively closer to their victims, until finally the climax of the film is hit.


Another way to do this is with juxtaposition. An idyllic world where everything appears right on the surface, with just a couple clues here and there to show that there might be some dark underbelly that few are aware of, is another way to go. But this post is long enough already so I won't detail that here.

bawylie wrote:To frame what I'm talking about, Wikipedia: "The distinction between horror and terror is a standard literary and psychological concept applied especially to Gothic literature and film.[1] Terror is usually described as the feeling of dread and anticipation that precedes the horrifying experience. By contrast, horror is the feeling of revulsion that usually occurs after something frightening is seen, heard, or otherwise experienced. It is the feeling one gets after coming to an awful realization or experiencing a deeply unpleasant occurrence. In other words, horror is more related to being shocked or scared (being horrified), while terror is more related to being anxious or fearful.[2] Horror has also been defined as a combination of terror and revulsion."


Alright, good. Now, if you know me, you know I write adventures to cultivate specific emotions or experiences. While I know some of these things can come naturally (or organically) from play, I still prefer to guide and direct and evoke desired responses in my players.


One thing I have some difficulty doing is terrifying them. Horror is fine. Scaring is fine (particularly jump-scares). But terror is a kind of anticipatory dread.


I'd say I'm relatively lethal as a DM, but these D&D characters (regardless of editions past 1e wizards) feel so capable, so heroic, that terror is a difficult seed to plant and harder still to cultivate.


I use framing, call-forwards, telegraphing, and surprise (so I am familiar with and competent to execute a lot of the tools that go with my game-style), but I'm still having a terror-block. I believe it's because the players don't have fear for their characters' well-being until they're actually IN a bad way. I want to start that fear earlier, though, and take it on a roller coaster ride.


So instead of a "by numbers" post, I'm asking: Have you felt terror at the table? Under what circumstances? Have you seen it in someone else? Under what circumstances? Have you created it? What did you do? Do you have this problem as well? What are the best ways to scare your players - without actual DOING anything to the characters?

It seems you want to evoke the feeling of vulnerability.


If so, make one out of every four to eight encounters, way too powerful. So the heroes must run away, or avoid it and cope an other way besides combat.


The heroes wont know for sure if a particular encounter is one they can survive.


Some time ago, when joining a group of experienced players, the DM described a monster. The other players flew into palpable dread, suspecting it might be excessively powerful, and informed me that this DM mixes in encounters that are too powerful. This is a technique - mixing up the levels of the encounters - that I now do myself. It has many benefits, including verisimilitude, but one of them seems to be the possibility of dread.

That's why I don't balance enounters at all. I use a bunch of random charts culled from all over that are appropriate for the environments they're in and let situations dictate the encounters beyond that. The players are never really sure if they're getting in over their heads or not.

bawylie wrote:So instead of a "by numbers" post, I'm asking: Have you felt terror at the table? Under what circumstances? Have you seen it in someone else? Under what circumstances? Have you created it? What did you do? Do you have this problem as well? What are the best ways to scare your players - without actual DOING anything to the characters?

I have felt terror at the table. However, it's a rare flower that most people don't seem to understand how to cultivate; even when they do, you have to have the right conditions. I was playing a solo adventure in Ravenloft; it was just the DM and me, and my character began with no NPC allies. The adversary of that adventure was a flesh golem (it had to be cut down in capability for my level 3 character to face it alone). My character picked up some NPC allies, and we eventually found the lair of the creature. The flesh golem had a petrifying laugh as a special ability; not petrifying in the sense of scary, but in the sense of turning to stone.


When we confronted the creature, it immediately used its petrifying laugh. All of the NPCs were turned to stone, but my character was not. Special note: there were no saves involved in this; it's just something that the DM ruled to be so. Naturally, my character fled. For the next week of in-game time, the creature pursued my character. As she fled, she would hear it laughing far off in the distance; the laugh carried like a wolf howl. Given the power that the creature exhibited, my character couldn't feel safe enough to rest with that laughter in the distance, not even when she finally made it to a town, which is rough for a 3e psychic character.


She eventually encountered a traveling monster hunter; he agreed to help her kill the creature in exchange for her help in hunting down the monster that had slain his family. When they fought the creature, it used a stone club that was actually an arm that it ripped off of one of her NPC allies; she recognized it from the pattern of the embridery on that NPC's shirt sleeve.


I have also created terror, both as a player and as a DM. As a player, I had a star lock PC in 4e who had been touched by the far realm in her youth. Without any astrology training, she could name all the stars of the night sky. She also had fingers that were longer than normal, that had an additional jointed segment, and that ended in black claws that could be used as daggers (except they couldn't be thrown). She also had a long, prehensile tongue that made Gene Simmons' tongue look like it had just gotten out of the pool.


Being touched by the far realm, she wasn't in her right mind. When the party she joined stopped to rest for the night, she took her turn at watch. She spent much of it talking to the stars and herself. The rest of the party was more than a little concerned that something would show up while she was distracted. Then, it got really fun when she noticed the rapid eye movements of one of her sleeping allies. She crept over to where he was laying and carefully watched him as if she could somehow see his dream by reading his face. When he rolled over onto his back, she leaned over him to watch him.


The other PC woke up with my character straddling him, her face an inch or two away from his. They never let her take watch alone again after that.

bawylie wrote:I like this. The groundwork does involve negative conditioning - in other words, you have to do something to them. But this works.


I wonder if there ARE ways to terrify without training?

I have found that one of the keys for good terror is, surprisingly enough, empathy.


As a shy person, I like to listen to and watch people. D&D provides a lot of opportunities for coming to know the people you play with. You get to see their sense of humor; I've never been in a group that didn't joke around the table a little bit. You get to see how they react to interpersonal conflicts, either with other characters or with NPCs. You get to see how they react to threats and stress, especially in combat, and you get to see what kinds of mood-setting description best affects them.


Empathy is one of the bright lights that makes our world a better place. However, to everything that is light there is a dark side. And, empathy is a tool you can use to comfort and to unnerve.

@MechaPilot: How Campbellian. You're one of the few people that I have seen that has independently recognized just how powerfully we can influence a person by what are otherwise ordinary, everyday unnoteworthy interactions.

Thisishowitends wrote @MechaPilot: How Campbellian. You're one of the few people that I have seen that has independently recognized just how powerfully we can influence a person by what are otherwise ordinary, everyday unnoteworthy interactions.

Thank you. I assume by Campellian you mean Joseph Campbell, and I consider that high praise.

We now have the interacting concepts of dread, empathy, and attachment to consider.


The chase or hunt (illustrated by mechapilot) wasn't even on my radar. It is now.

I have caused my cousin to associate the hook-hammer with quest ending bloody massacres and treasure loss.


The item scares him even if just lying on the floor. Won't even pick it up.

Foxface wrote:I think it comes down to control. We feel scared when we are out of control, when we realize that things happen and we can't influence them. My players were scared and worried about the big something, but they didn't really become terrified until they realized that they couldn't avoid it. There was an inevitability to the threat, whatever it was, that hung over them.


The found a dropped shoe, and they were now waiting for the other shoe to drop. The other shoe, they realized, was going to drop no matter what, and they had no idea what it was how it was going to happen.


They knew enough to know that they didn't want to find out and know more, but they also knew they were going to find out, and that's what the terror comes from.


Think about the teen slasher flick. Aside from it being overplayed and somewhat rote, examine how the audience gets terrified. The blonde girl goes out on her own. She enters the dark room. "Hello?" she calls out. Is the character terrified? Probably not. She's scared perhaps, but she's more likely curious. Why else would she be investigating? The audience is terrified for her, because we know something she doesn't know. We know there's a killer on the loose, and we expect the killer to kill. Dramatic irony. We don't know how she's going to die, but we know she's going to die (at least, if the movie is playing it straight and not subverting tropes). Our terror comes from knowing yet not knowing. The filmakers know this, so they can play with us, the audience. The girl can explore the room, turn on the lights and find there's nothing. It was only a tree branch scraping the window, or something. Phew.


Then BAM! THE KILLER JUMPS OUT AS SHE LEAVES THE ROOM AAAAAAAAHHHH!


Or not. Maybe she lives even longer. The filmakers can stretch out the tension. Maybe things stay dark. Maybe a cat jumps out of the trash can, and there's a rattle in the alleyway. A gust of wind, perhaps. Or was that something rushing by her quickly?


The point is that we the audience are separate from the character. Her terror isn't our terror, and our terror isn't hers. With an RPG, that isn't the case. The audience is the character and vice versa.


When we watch the teen slasher flick, we aren't in control. We can only watch helplessly as the girl stumbles about in the dark, oblivious to her own peril. We shout "Don't go in there!" because we know what she doesn't know. We are out of control.


So, to incite terror in your players, you need to make them feel like they are out of control. You can't rob them of their autonomy, else you're not playing an RPG anymore. But you have to make them feel helpless.

Building on this theory of control, I think it's worth noting something else. If you look at RPGs that are specifically designed to run horror, you'll see a common theme: nonrenewable resources. Dread (the jenga game) is a good example. In order to progress, you need to spend a resource (pulling a block out of the tower). You know that, at some point, you're going to run out of that resource, and then you will die. Not "maybe I'll roll badly and die," but "sooner or later, my number will come up." That helpless inevitability is a great tool.* You know in advance that bad stuff is going to happen, just like the audience in the slasher flick knows the blonde is going to die. You don't know exactly when, and you don't know exactly how, but you know that no matter how lucky you are you can only get so far before the blackline bursts over the fan and something really terrible happens. There is no possibility that you will roll enough natural twenties to avoid paying the piper. You may do well enough that you save the day, but there will be a cost. That produces both helplessness and anticipation: you know bad stuff is going to happen but not what or when, and you feel helpless to protect yourself.


D&D doesn't have a mechanic like that, but it's doable anyway. One way is to use a prophecy. Establish that prophecies are unavoidable in your world, and then provide a prophecy that something vague but horrible will happen today. On a similar note, a big bad with an established track record for making good on his threats despite PC interference can make a vague threat not dissimilar to the prophecy ("I will destroy something you love, and there is nothing you can do to stop me!"). Keep in mind that the players have to actually believe that they are powerless to stop him. In keeping with the trope, it's good to let them believe they might prevail against all odds, if only briefly ("it's just a cat") before the horrible thing pops up anyway in a completely unexpected way (if Foxface's words, "bam the killer jumps out as she leaves the room aaaaahhh!"). Alternately, you could produce the limited resource in a less mechanical fashion. Have you ever read the original "The Birds"? The one Hitchcock adapted into his film? Same basic plotline, birds go all homicidal. But the terror of it came from the isolation. The protagonist had this nice fortress, he was holding his own, he was safe for now. But the whole world was (probably) dead. Sooner or later, he was going to run out of essentials. How was he going to get food when the farmers were all dead and he could only go outside for a few hours a day? How was he going to get medicine when the doctors were all dead? He could raid the supermarket and the hospital for a while, but sooner or later he was doomed, no matter how good a job he did defending himself, and you knew it. Terror. Getting players to believe that they are going to run out of food, water, wakefulness, or HP can work. But it has to be a certainty to go all the way to terror. Not the kind of asymptotic certainty that eventually you'll roll a 1 on an important check, but the true kind that even under the best of circumstances you're living on borrowed time. Environmental effects that drain HP (no save), or that will kill you if you sleep (Freddy Krueger style), coupled with seemingly impossible challenges to escaping the environment, for example. Later on you can reveal a hidden escape hatch, but the terror exists only until that light at the end of the tunnel is revealed.


And as has been said already on this thread, the players need to believe that you will pull the trigger. This may require that you pull the trigger once or twice. It may not.


*Incidentally, this is where I disagree with the likes of Haldrik and Yagamifire. It's not enough that the players don't know if they will survive. They have to know that they won't. Or at least that something equivalently bad is going to happen to them (actually killing the whole party can be evocative, but you then have to start over from scratch the next time you want to evoke something).

I think I've achieved terror a lot more than horror.

Adding "inevitability: real or perceived" to my mental list.


@Em, great. Tell us how.

 

[sleypy]

page 2

@MechaPilot do you think that insight is a poor substitute for empathy? I ask because I think you may have just touched on why I have not been very good at creating terror.

sleypy wrote @MechaPilot do you think that insight is a poor substitute for empathy? I ask because I think you may have just touched on why I have not been very good at creating terror.

Can you clarify the difference - or what you feel the difference is?

bawylie wrote:

sleypy wrote @MechaPilot do you think that insight is a poor substitute for empathy? I ask because I think you may have just touched on why I have not been very good at creating terror.

Can you clarify the difference - or what you feel the difference is?

Well I see insight usually means you have a understand of a person or thing. Where empathy is the ability understand and share someone feelings.

The best example I can think of is a criminal investigator most defined trait would be insight. A special needs teacher's most defined trait would empathy. One job benefits/suffers from being emotionally detached and vice versa.

sleypy wrote:

bawylie wrote:

sleypy wrote @MechaPilot do you think that insight is a poor substitute for empathy? I ask because I think you may have just touched on why I have not been very good at creating terror.

Can you clarify the difference - or what you feel the difference is?

Well I see insight usually means you have a understand of a person or thing. Where empathy is the ability understand and share someone feelings.

The best example I can think of is a criminal investigator most defined trait would be insight. A special needs teacher's most defined trait would empathy. One job benefits/suffers from being emotionally detached and vice versa.

Being able to realize someone is feeling something (insight) does not equate to knowing why they are feeling it (empathy). The latter is very important for invoking that feeling in the future.

I would argue that it is the other way around. Empathy is sensing that someone else is experiencing certain emotions. Insight is understanding why that person is feeling certain emotions.

If I walk into a room and there is a sense of depression there and I see my buddy is face down at his desk, I might sense that he is the source of that pervading down feeling in the room. "You all right, bro?" "Yeah... Can you get me some coffee?"

If I was at the coffee pot and a coworker said to me, "Hey man, do you know what's going on with Buddy? He seems really down," I might have an insight into why he's feeling that way without actually sensing what he is feeling. "Yeah, he's going through some tough times right now. Take him some coffee, he'll be fine." This second scenario works whether or not I had seen my friend earlier.

While it's really all semantics I personally think that having both (regardless of which definition you assign to which) is important. You need be able to key into what your players are feeling and figure out which parts of your presentation or emmergent interactions are freaking them out so you can capitalize on them.

MINOR ADVENTURE SPOILERS: MINES OF MADNESS

I think I was able to successfully instill both terror and horror in the last game I DM'd. Here's the story:

When I ran the Mines of Madness, the characters stumbled upon the room with the cockatrice eggs before running into the cockatrices (cockatri?) themselves. They properly identified the eggs, decided to smash all but one (which they decided to keep for a pet), covered themselves in the contents of the egg as camouflage(?), and went on their merry way.

I decided I was going to have the last egg hatch sometime soon after and it (by die roll) happened in the middle of the dwarf skeleton encounter. The Gnome thought he would be clever and try to convince the hatchling that he was it's mother and have it attack the skeletons.

"The young cockatrice looks at you and begins screeching. You hear several echoes from somewhere, deeper in the mines respond in kind. Elf, your turn."

The look of panic on everyone's face was priceless! Everyone just kind of sat there for a second, speechless. I rolled initiative for the screeching and set a secret DC for the birds. The screeching got closer or further away depending on the d20 roll. The Paladin and the Ranger decided to muzzle the cockatrice which I turned into a skill challenge where a fail meant being bitten (animal handling from the holder, sleight of hand from the muzzler) and that really seemed to stress everyone out, especially when the Ranger (muzzler) almost failed the roll.

Just as they were about to finish off the last skelington, the d20 decided the cockatrice would make their entrance. I threw a couple extra birds into the mix because we were running with an extra player and the increased numbers really was horrifying for them, especially when I reminded them that they were covered in the blood and guts from the eggs. They all looked pretty defeated, lol.

TL;DR: I set up a potentially deadly scenario and reminded the players that time was imperative. The randomness of when or where the enemy would come from kept players on their toes more than a set countdown would, I think. You can prepare yourself for a danger you see coming, but if you don't know how much time you have..? I think the muzzling scene was a nice bit of serendipity, as it foreshadowed what the party would be dealing with if they didn't end the encounter soon and find a place to hide/hunker down. I really liked that and I might use it in the future.

Ok so there's a tension, there, between an inevitable consequence and the uncertainty of how & when that consequence will manifest.

I think I'm at the point where I can say: "Terror arises from the stress between a dreaded inevitable phenomenon and the perceived inability to predict or mitigate the manifestation of that phenomenon."

That's the fertile ground, I think, from which our "fragile flower" grows. So, if we were intentionally creating terror, we would require a "Dreaded Phenomenon" and a some kind of "Mysterious Ticking Noise" (a countdown of sorts that reminds us it's getting closer but never tells you exactly when).

Past that, we get into some of the groundwork of attachment (see Revenge byNumbers) and creating an ephemeral threat. I think we need to expand on these bits.

Magi_theKid wrote:I would argue that it is the other way around. Empathy is sensing that someone else is experiencing certain emotions. Insight is understanding why that person is feeling certain emotions.

If I walk into a room and there is a sense of depression there and I see my buddy is face down at his desk, I might sense that he is the source of that pervading down feeling in the room. "You all right, bro?" "Yeah... Can you get me some coffee?"

If I was at the coffee pot and a coworker said to me, "Hey man, do you know what's going on with Buddy? He seems really down," I might have an insight into why he's feeling that way without actually sensing what he is feeling. "Yeah, he's going through some tough times right now. Take him some coffee, he'll be fine." This second scenario works whether or not I had seen my friend earlier.

While it's really all semantics I personally think that having both (regardless of which definition you assign to which) is important. You need be able to key into what your players are feeling and figure out which parts of your presentation or emmergent interactions are freaking them out so you can capitalize on them.

I would consider your definition of Empathy more ESP than purely empathy. Picking up little details that get translated into emotions in you mind would be insight in my opinion. If your actually snagging emotional energy out of thin air then that is a little bit beyond simple empathy.

bawylie wrote:Adding "inevitability: real or perceived" to my mental list.

@Em, great. Tell us how.

I believe my examples in my first post are at least a partial answer.


Things which can create terror.....
1. Physical evidence of incredible wrath and destruction
2. Suddenly discovering that the party is inside a trap that is gradually bringing them their doom.
3. Seeing an NPC that the group knows is a bad dude get curb stomped by a villian. EIther before their eyes or off camera with a good retelling.
4. Reliable methods of attack fail spectacularly. That lightning bold just healed the giant iron man. Your sword bounces off his armor.
5. The environment is falling apart all around you creating a ticking clock while you are locked in mortal combat.
6. Loss of memory. Have the entire group come to realize that they've all lost several hours.
7. The constant feeling of being watched. A repetitive sound of some approaching threat. A horrible smell that is growing stronger. Engage the senses.
8. Creatures that threaten not just their hit points but their levels and items as well. (e.g. rust monsters and wraiths)

You have an approach that I think needs more explanation. I don't need to enumerate the differences in our play styles, but you arrive at things like this "without planning" I guess.

So what exactly ARE you doing? Do you decide "ok, now for terror" and start doing things on that list? Or do you recognize terror in the players and amp it up?

I mean, please dumb this all the way down and walk me through the decision process or writing process. (I doubt your campaign calendar has "Tuesday - terror" on it). So I'm really curious how this works for you.

1, 3, 4, 6, (sometimes 7), & 8 are horror. We can do horror - how are you getting terror?

bawylie wrote:You have an approach that I think needs more explanation. I don't need to enumerate the differences in our play styles, but you arrive at things like this "without planning" I guess.

So what exactly ARE you doing? Do you decide "ok, now for terror" and start doing things on that list? Or do you recognize terror in the players and amp it up?

I mean, please dumb this all the way down and walk me through the decision process or writing process. (I doubt your campaign calendar has "Tuesday - terror" on it). So I'm really curious how this works for you.

1, 3, 4, 6, (sometimes 7), & 8 are horror. We can do horror - how are you getting terror?

Maybe I am confused on your definitions but I thought terror was impending threat and horror was threat in action. Maybe theres some overlap in my examples.

When I am designing the sandbox that represents my game world at the start, I do all sorts of planning. I figure out how all the locals have been interacting prior to the adventurers arriving. What is the balance of power? What are the interesting undiscovered things?

Sure if I have some "event" that is planned on the calender then it could induce terror. An enemy army marching towards the gates of the city might be terrifying if they care about the city at all.

I just decide that today my group is doing this or that. I just design a big enough sandbox to keep them occupied for a while. Then when it looks like the sandbox isn't big enough any more I expand it more or the group moves to a new one. Think of my sandboxes as zoomed in areas on my world map. I know some things about every square inch of my world but I don't know it to the sandbox level of focus. For a given campaign I will usually zoom into an area and create everything in much greater detail. That will include a bunch of potential adventures. Some more detailed than others. Most not super long.

I have ran a dungeon centric campaign before where the sandbox was this massive dungeon beneath the city. The city was big too so that made for a lot of possibilities. The dungeon was not monolithic. Think of it more as an environment than a single adventure.

The sandbox concept is flexible. It requires bursts of intense work but it also gives the players the feeling they can go where they want and do what they like without me forcing them down a particular path.

If I wanted to run a particular series of adventure in a more linear fashion it would be launched from the sandbox and then the group would return when done. Personally, I'd avoid that as a common practice. Sometimes it makes sense if the party is really focused on some particular task that deserves the development.

Big potential requirement of terror/horror from the players = they have to know you're neither for them nor against them and stand by what you roll.

1) Give the players something they really care about. That might be their characters lives, or it might be an NPC or organization, or it might be an awesome magic item. That's up to you. It's also the hardest step of the entire process.
2) Enlist one of the players to assist you, but don't tell them why. Play up a thing that their player cares about.
3) Take away that thing, irrevocably and suddenly. This is "Day one, fight the toughest guy in the prison" priming.
4) Put the characters in a situation where neither the characters, nor the players, know what is going on. Do whatever you need to to obfuscate. Illusions, invented monsters, unreliable narration, swapping ot collecting character sheets so that players have to remember things, , etc etc. Keep it moving and don't stop for questions. Information is the enemy of Terror.
5) Have a playlist setup of music that starts normal or orchestral, builds to power, and then goes creepy and ominous. You can never go wrong with echoing childrens laughter.
6) Threaten the thing they love, but don't attack it directly. Wound it. Laugh at their discomfort as if you, the DM, have gone off the rails.
7) Throw in a plot twist or MacGuffin that seems like their salvation.
8) Pass notes around to one player asking them a lot of seemingly random questions. They will begin to stop trusting each other, and the paranoia serves your cause
9) Have the MacGuffin not work, but make it seem like it's the fault of the player you werwe passing notes to. (Bonus tip: have it be the same player as in Step 2.)
10) Give them a last desperate escape chance...

and let it work. Phew!

In the middle of the next session, after everything is back to normal and everyone is full of soda and chips, BAM! The Terrible Threat reaches up from Carries grave and grabs them! Fight for your lives, chummers.

Emerikol wrote:

bawylie wrote:You have an approach that I think needs more explanation. I don't need to enumerate the differences in our play styles, but you arrive at things like this "without planning" I guess.

So what exactly ARE you doing? Do you decide "ok, now for terror" and start doing things on that list? Or do you recognize terror in the players and amp it up?

I mean, please dumb this all the way down and walk me through the decision process or writing process. (I doubt your campaign calendar has "Tuesday - terror" on it). So I'm really curious how this works for you.

1, 3, 4, 6, (sometimes 7), & 8 are horror. We can do horror - how are you getting terror?

Maybe I am confused on your definitions but I thought terror was impending threat and horror was threat in action. Maybe theres some overlap in my examples.

When I am designing the sandbox that represents my game world at the start, I do all sorts of planning. I figure out how all the locals have been interacting prior to the adventurers arriving. What is the balance of power? What are the interesting undiscovered things?

Sure if I have some "event" that is planned on the calender then it could induce terror. An enemy army marching towards the gates of the city might be terrifying if they care about the city at all.

I just decide that today my group is doing this or that. I just design a big enough sandbox to keep them occupied for a while. Then when it looks like the sandbox isn't big enough any more I expand it more or the group moves to a new one. Think of my sandboxes as zoomed in areas on my world map. I know some things about every square inch of my world but I don't know it to the sandbox level of focus. For a given campaign I will usually zoom into an area and create everything in much greater detail. That will include a bunch of potential adventures. Some more detailed than others. Most not super long.

I have ran a dungeon centric campaign before where the sandbox was this massive dungeon beneath the city. The city was big too so that made for a lot of possibilities. The dungeon was not monolithic. Think of it more as an environment than a single adventure.

The sandbox concept is flexible. It requires bursts of intense work but it also gives the players the feeling they can go where they want and do what they like without me forcing them down a particular path.

If I wanted to run a particular series of adventure in a more linear fashion it would be launched from the sandbox and then the group would return when done. Personally, I'd avoid that as a common practice. Sometimes it makes sense if the party is really focused on some particular task that deserves the development.

Terror = Anticipatory fear
Horror = Reactionary fear
Hodor = awesome

DemoMonkey wrote:1) Give the players something they really care about. That might be their characters lives, or it might be an NPC or organization, or it might be an awesome magic item. That's up to you. It's also the hardest step of the entire process.
2) Enlist one of the players to assist you, but don't tell them why. Play up a thing that their player cares about.
3) Take away that thing, irrevocably and suddenly. This is "Day one, fight the toughest guy in the prison" priming.
4) Put the characters in a situation where neither the characters, nor the players, know what is going on. Do whatever you need to to obfuscate. Illusions, invented monsters, unreliable narration, swapping ot collecting character sheets so that players have to remember things, , etc etc. Keep it moving and don't stop for questions. Information is the enemy of Terror.
5) Have a playlist setup of music that starts normal or orchestral, builds to power, and then goes creepy and ominous. You can never go wrong with echoing childrens laughter.
6) Threaten the thing they love, but don't attack it directly. Wound it. Laugh at their discomfort as if you, the DM, have gone off the rails.
7) Throw in a plot twist or MacGuffin that seems like their salvation.
8) Pass notes around to one player asking them a lot of seemingly random questions. They will begin to stop trusting each other, and the paranoia serves your cause
9) Have the MacGuffin not work, but make it seem like it's the fault of the player you werwe passing notes to. (Bonus tip: have it be the same player as in Step 2.)
10) Give them a last desperate escape chance...

and let it work. Phew!

In the middle of the next session, after everything is back to normal and everyone is full of soda and chips, BAM! The Terrible Threat reaches up from Carries grave and grabs them! Fight for your lives, chummers.

Help me out: are these steps? Or is each considered separately?

Can you put these into a narrative example?

Seeing the blood and guts of a previous victim is horror. Wondering when that's going to happen to you is terror.

Hmm. I don't think info HAS to be the enemy of terror. Sometimes having a lot of info can create the terror. It is often lack of power to influence that is the source of terror. Info can go either way.

Bawylie

Help me out: are these steps? Or is each considered separately?

Yes, they are steps. More or less in order.

Can you put these into a narrative example?

That would take way more time than I have to devote to this. (I tend to overwrite) And it would be fruitless even if I did because too much depends on the idiosyncracies and structures of your personal campaign. Ask yourself how you would apply each step to your group, you'll see the pattern quickly enough.


Yagami Fire

It is often lack of power to influence that is the source of terror. Info can go either way.

This is one of the differences between things that terrify people in the real world, and things that terrify them in game. In the real world, by default you don't have perfect information. In a game world, you do to a much larger extent, unless the games moderator makes sure you don't.

I stand by my statement. The Unknown will always be more terrifying than the Unstoppable.

DemoMonkey wrote:Bawylie

Help me out: are these steps? Or is each considered separately?

Yes, they are steps. More or less in order.

Can you put these into a narrative example?

That would take way more time than I have to devote to this. (I tend to overwrite) And it would be fruitless even if I did because too much depends on the idiosyncracies and structures of your personal campaign. Ask yourself how you would apply each step to your group, you'll see the pattern quickly enough.


Yagami Fire

It is often lack of power to influence that is the source of terror. Info can go either way.

This is one of the differences between things that terrify people in the real world, and things that terrify them in game. In the real world, by default you don't have perfect information. In a game world, you do to a much larger extent, unless the games moderator makes sure you don't.

I stand by my statement. The Unknown will always be more terrifying than the Unstoppable.

The difference between the unstoppable and stoppable is often simply having the information related to stopping it ^_~

sleypy wrote @MechaPilot do you think that insight is a poor substitute for empathy? I ask because I think you may have just touched on why I have not been very good at creating terror.

I believe that insight is also a key element. This is how I see it:

Insight will let you understand how a person is feeling by correctly reading their posture, their facial cues, the way their speech changes (in tone, tempo, word choice, and so on), and any other emotional "tells" that they might have. Insight is the information gathering arm of social interaction.

Empathy involves putting yourself in another person's shoes; at its highest levels, this means letting your insights into another person provoke an emotional response in you. Whereas insight is information gathering, empathy is unity. Setting aside thoughts of self and letting someone else's feelings touch you emotionally is the one thing that we are capable of that comes closest to one becoming the other person.

Without insight, empathy can only be weaponized when a player wears her heart on her sleeve.

DemoMonkey wrote:I stand by my statement. The Unknown will always be more terrifying than the Unstoppable.

Strongly disagree.

It's not that the unstoppable is more terrifying than the unknown, or vice versa.

If you don't know anything, you're ignorant to the threat, and thus cannot be scared. At best, you can be shocked. Shock isn't bad, per se, but it isn't terror. You have to know of the threat to be scared of it.

I will grant that complete understanding undermines the terror. Absolutely true. A monster movie becomes less terrifying once the audience has seen the monster full-on (with very rare exception). But if you don't know that a monster is out there (either as the audience or the character) you can't be scared of it.

I also think Powerroleplayer was on to something when he mentioned non-renewable resources. This ties back into control, or rather the feeling of helplessness.

You're right Foxface, but I think perhaps you are misconstruing how I am using the word "Unknown". I am using it in the context of a terrifying threat that you know exists, but not knowing it's nature or how to combat it.

So "Unknown", and not "Unaware of the Existence of".

bawylie wrote:I think I'm at the point where I can say: "Terror arises from the stress between a dreaded inevitable phenomenon and the perceived inability to predict or mitigate the manifestation of that phenomenon."

That's the fertile ground, I think, from which our "fragile flower" grows. So, if we were intentionally creating terror, we would require a "Dreaded Phenomenon" and a some kind of "Mysterious Ticking Noise" (a countdown of sorts that reminds us it's getting closer but never tells you exactly when).

Past that, we get into some of the groundwork of attachment (see Revenge byNumbers) and creating an ephemeral threat. I think we need to expand on these bits.

Attachment: In order for the players to care about something, that thing must either be (1) Useful to Them or (2) Emotionally Interesting to Them.

Useful is easy, but it doesn't have to be simple. A +1 sword is useful, but it's hard to threaten and not really worth the effort. The +1 Sword that has proven to be useful time and time again and which a character has grown to associate with their character is a moderately worthwhile target. Obviously the threat of losing something that just has utility (such a Potion of Invisibility) isn't going to cause terror, except in certain situations(Trapped in a broomcloset, the Rogue knows that he can escape the mutant cyclops lurking outside if he can just quaff that Potion of Invisibility he's been saving for months. He reaches into his bag and just as he realizes that he lost his bag outside the closet, the cyclops opens the door.) where that utility is particularly suited to their survival/ success overall. A place however. Now we're talking.

I've mentioned the idea of crafting NPC's who the players can reliably count on to be included in adventures from an early level. I can't emphasize enough how important they can be both to the setting and as tools for ripping your players hearts out still beating. The trick that I have observed from the player side which seems to work the best is to sprinkle in new characters and let the players tell you which ones they liked the best. The ones that they assign characteristics to and expand on even when they aren't around. Take note of what they add to the character and bring some of that out in them the next time. Make their appearance in the story become accompanied by cheery cries of, "Eh, it's NPC! What is he doing here, that goof?" Combine that with making these characters useful. They have advice, food, jokes, a place to stay, a secret passageway, connections to the undercity, anything that the players might like to make use of consistently. Don't fall into the trap of treating these characters like vending machines, but let them help the characters as any person might for a group of friends.

These characters, by virtue of being in a certain place which you have no doubt ornamented with delicious verbal illustration, will help build the setting and certain locales. These locales are also NPC's of a sort and they can serve the same purpose as the NPC's that live in them. The parties favorite tavern, perhaps the place they met and that serves as their homebase. The Wizards College where their scholar friend works and helps them with weird scrolls the party finds in between giving lessons and grading papers. The ever open home of someone they saved. These are places where the team should meet and use often until they become as inseperable to the party as the characters that live there.

These kinds of utility to me, are the ways to create an exploitable attachment to the players.

I don't know what I can much say about the second component, except that sometimes you can get lucky and make something or someone who is emotionally interesting to the party with it being strictly useful. It could just be that the stupid good aligned goblin is kind of cute and funny in it's inept attempts to help the party, so long as it doesn't get in their way. I don't know. It's a hard one to craft intentionally, but it can be used.

I'll let others comment on this before I make a move toward working on the concept of the Ephemeral Threat.

DemoMonkey wrote:You're right Foxface, but I think perhaps you are misconstruing how I am using the word "Unknown". I am using it in the context of a terrifying threat that you know exists, but not knowing it's nature or how to combat it.

So "Unknown", and not "Unaware of the Existence of".

Well, in that case carry on.

I don't think one necessarily needs an attachment to be threatened in order to be terrified. I think it is alltogether common, of course, and the most common attachment is probably one's attachment to one's continued existence.

I think terror comes from not understanding how things happen/will happen, and also knowing that one can't do anything about it. I suppose in that case the attachment could be one's attachment to being able to be one's self and control one's environment, but that "attachment" is so broad as to render the term empty.

So, I don't think attachment to something at risk is critical, but I will concede that it is useful.

Build up tension, then spring something on them with little time to think or plan, just react.

DemoMonkey wrote:Yagami Fire

It is often lack of power to influence that is the source of terror. Info can go either way.

This is one of the differences between things that terrify people in the real world, and things that terrify them in game. In the real world, by default you don't have perfect information. In a game world, you do to a much larger extent, unless the games moderator makes sure you don't.

I stand by my statement. The Unknown will always be more terrifying than the Unstoppable.

I would say that it matters what information. Some information definitely should or even must be withheld to create terror. I think, however, that some information can be provided without meaningful impact on terror, and other information can be provided that actually enhances terror. I've never tried the taking/swapping character sheets thing myself, but I A) don't see how that enhances terror (feel free to enlighten me), and B) imagine it would actually detract from terror by necessitating increased table talk (a chorus of "what's my bonus to handle animal?" and the like distracts from the atmosphere and immersion). Withholding information about how the unstoppable thing can be stopped, on the other hand, is absolutely essential.

As to the distinction between the unknown and the unstoppable, I would clarify what should be meant by the unstoppable. The unstoppable is not the bad guy that will create the bad thing. It is the bad thing itself--the death of your character, the loss of your favorite item or NPC, the victory of evil over good... You have to know that something bad is going to happen, that is what makes it scary when the dumb blonde in the slasher flick walks down the dimly lit hallway when we walk down dimly lit hallways ourselves all the time without a tickle of fear. You know something is going to pop out at her (it's a gorram slasher flick!) and you are dreading that moment. Knowledge is here facilitating terror. The unknown monster is more terrifying than the unstoppable monster, sure. But a large part of that comes from the fact that you know that the unknown monster is going to do something terrible, and you can't stop it because you don't know what the monster is and thus how to fight it. It's terrifying because the bad thing is unstoppable, even when the bad guy himself is easily stopped once out in the open.

Information that tends to render the bad thing worse and more unstoppable will increase terror. Information that renders the bad thing more predictable is generally bad, in part because it can lead the audience to think they can use that information to stop it, in part because it leaves less room for them to imagine a bad thing that is even worse than what the DM had in mind. It could however increase terror if it does neither of those things. Imagine a torturer who has you strapped down explaining exactly what terrible things he's going to do to you: you're helpless to stop him, and they're worse than the simple beating you had in mind. That's terror if anything is. I suppose the general state of cluelessness (a la removal of character sheets) can help engender the feeling of helplessness you're going for, but I would shy away from restricting access to mechanical information because you don't want to increase focus on mechanics.

 

[Tom B1]

Good data here.

Thoughts from my past and present experience:

I was a player in an underdark party. We were in a dark underground city with all sorts of underdark races. One of the PCs got into trouble in a temple (mucking about). It cost him his hand and we were all captured. We were to become galley slaves. No weapons, manacled, one of us missing a hand... and we felt weaker than our foes. Terror of our predicament, but horror at the ease with which one mistake led to a potential TPK. (We got out by starting a fight on the deck of the ship before we were taken below an manacled... biting, using manacles to batter and choke, and me taking the ship's master, a Drow, over the side in a grapple... I had higher Con and expected him to run out of air before I did... which proved true... and it turned out a piece of jewelry I found much earlier but had not had identified was in fact a necklace of adaption... but I didn't know that when I grappled him over the rail and into the harbour).

The sense of oddity, of uncertainty of the laws of the game, the sense of dangers we hadn't fought (mind flayers, aboleths, etc) and the horrible nature of what would happen to a group losing a party... that added up to dread.

Another time, I had a couple of party members encounter Ice Trolls. The trolls were only 2HD and the players were 2nd or 3rd level. BUT, the Ice Troll required a +1 weapon and the party had no magic weapons. 'chip' 'chip' 'chip' and no real damage. I saw players that would normally have all sorts of bravado recognize the pickle they were in, the unstoppability of their foe, and then the running away ensued!

A party of Elves exploring an old abandoned underground Dwarven City were being very quiet. They knew something horrible had happened to kill the occupants, but no idea exactly what. (Of course, the Bard wandered off, the Cleric felt he had to protect the Bard went after him and nobody else knew... so separation of the party - always a great tension builder - was achieved). The bard and cleric blundered into the area of the broken main gates... and skeletons of dwarven warriors rose silently.... the bard noticed but had phobia undead and lit out of there like a bat out of Acheron.... leaving the Cleric alone and surprised by the undead. Meanwhile, the others (ranger, fighter, mage, fighter/mage) were exploring the rest of the city... while the undead dragon on the ledge at the top of the vault was simply waiting for them to come out...

The party were showing signs of terror - missing party members, too quiet, creepy breezes and overly silent spaces - and then while the mage investigated a mine entrance (and met a guardian Earth elemental) and the fighter/mage and ranger watched, the fiighter got swooped upon suddenly by a huge skeletal dragon.... the spectators were terrified and didn't want to yell to attract the critter so they were miming huge teeth closing to the fighter and hoping he'd see and check his six....

The terror came from the apparently overwhelming threat, the ominous silence and emptiness of the place (and obvious signs of tough defenders having fallen but not clearly how)... and the horror came when the party recognized the foe - energy drain, life draining breath, flying, large claws, wings, bite, etc... darkness... they won, but there were several incaps that could have ended up as deaders.

A party once faced elves that were effectively invisible in the forest. They steadily lost HPs to unseen snipers. Random area of effect spells weren't wiping out the hidden elves. The fact the fight was in 3D (ground, trees, underground tunnels used for surprise and hidden movement....) and the fact the team was steadily bleeding HP without being *able* to identify or injure the foe... that's terrifying. The party retreated from the forest and the mage was so frustrated he was blowing trees to bits with lightning bolts just because he couldn't do anything effective....

Lately, in an attempt to draw in the Eldritch Evil sort of themes, players have been exploring a dark temple under a Borderman temple (a much older, deeper evil delving under the local people's cave church complex). I regularly ask for passive perception rolls with no comments on results ... 'You don't see anything' 'You aren't sure if your eyes are playing tricks... you don't see anything tangible' 'Your skin is crawling, but you don't see anything'. When they enter certain parts of the dungeon and trigger traps, interact with statues or odd magical walls and frescoes.... they make saves (and fail) and get penalties to stats, to initiative, to strength, fatigue or other state effects (nauseated, sickened). This is MUCH more effective than actual HP damage - gory wounds are taken in stride... conditions that reduce effectiveness with no clear idea how to fix them... THOSE are scary (even though the net effect may not be huge...). NOT KNOWING how this is done, how it is removed, when these accumulating nasty effects will end, and knowing there's some weird 'does not belong in our dimension' sort of vibe leaves the characters jangled and unsettled.

Go outside the rules. Create effects, sounds, hallucinations, gases, contact poisons that are hallucinogenic, do whatever it takes to take the party outside of the head space of 'I have healing and high HP and good weapons so nothing scares me'. Oh, you are fatigued? Sickened? Nauseated? Sounds working differently? Illumination whacky? Strange sounds? Enemy effects that aren't just hit point loss... now that's when you start to creep out your players.

Critters with fuzzy spider legs or bodies. Critters with tentacles and too many eyes. Shambling horrors with no eyes or mouths, but ropey strength that are good at slow strangulation.... critters that phase in and out round to round or can emerge from a shadow to strike and then fade away to strike again, harrying, weakening...

You need players to face things they don't understand and don't understand how to counter, to suffer effects that are tied to locales and impose conditions vs damage, maybe healing doesn't work as it should in eldritch shrines or divinations produce horrific nightmares and stun those using them....

And always, make unnecessary random checks for hearing, seeing, other forms of detection... sometimes let them hear or think they see something, other times nothing ...that they notice! Never say nothing is there.

Separate them if they let you. Being alone without being able to watch your back is tough. Sticky black gunk that they sink into to the knees and have to fight to escape. Spider webs. Halluncination so the real and unreal horrors are hard to differentiate. Get caught fighting on very unsafe terrain with possibilities of lethal falls or collapses. Poisons that run slowly but inexorably. Give them foes that seem to be unstoppable or that are easy to kill, but keep getting back up.

Make them way to run, to flee, to never re-enter the dark place they are escaping.

1st edition left a lot of this sort of atmospheric stuff to GMs so they made it up and it was scary.
2nd -> 4th (and even 5th, but it once again is a bit more like 1e) specified *everything* so DMs didn't make up this sort of stuff and so players knew adventures were balanced for their conquest. in 1e, you could sometimes find a +3 sword at level 1... and sometimes your encounter was a level 5 encounter so you'd better be alert, cautious and smart in EVERY encounter....

Let the players know you are:
a) Willing to kill them if they are stupid or not cautious
b) Willing to hurt them if they aren't careful and explicit about what they do to stay alert and to watch for threats
c) Happy to make them suffer - conditions, poisons, illness and disease, strange magical or inter-dimensional effects, corruption...
d) Ok with bleeding them a bit at a time vs. foes they don't know how to truly defeat... and that keep coming.....

Once you've established that they, as players, do NOT know everything that can come at them or how to deal with such encounters and effects... then they know they have to play smart, cautious and get lucky to get out safely. And sometimes, they'll learn they NEED to run, to flee, to bug out... because if they don't, they WILL die.

And if the will die in horrible ways (brain eaten, plant slowly absorbs them over 10 years, slowly eaten from inside to host a critter, etc), they'll want to avoid that and will be thankful for simple dangerous foes doing only NORMAL damage...