Years ago I ran a game of D20 Modern using D20 Call of Cthulhu/D20 Delta Green over three years that culminated in the characters facing down the apocalypse. I thought the campaign was successful...until I polled my players and realized they weren't happy with it. Here's what I learned.
The Campaign
The basic campaign was a Majestic-12 style series of agents who were handpicked to defeat Lovecraftian threats. The establishing backstory put them through training in preparation for the horrors that would come, but it felt more like a superhero game or a secret agent game than a horror game. And initially at least, that's what the game was -- fighting terrorists while trying to keep their cover as regular citizens. You can read the entire story hour here.
It didn't last though, at least in part because I had always planned to introduce a grand Cthulhu-style arc. More and more supernatural elements crept in, our heroes' abilities increased as they got more powerful, and soon one of them was a psychic capable of bringing down entire buildings on bad guys. Their firepower increased accordingly. In the finale the heroes discovered that they were all masks of Nyarlathotep -- clones who were fated to rule the world -- and to avoid evil winning they self-destructed by aiming an orbital laser at themselves. I thought it was epic.
My players hated it. In fact, it was the last time I ever gamed with them. So what went wrong?
We Didn't Create a Social Contract First
Everyone in the campaign was a friend of mine for decades, so our play styles were well-established and they were comfortable with me as a game master. But that wasn't the problem -- or rather, that level of comfort is what enabled me to spring a Cthulhu-style game on them.
I never asked the players if they wanted to play a horror game. Call of Cthulhu had a bad rep with them as a game where "you go nuts and die." What the issue really was about was player agency, and my players were concerned that in running that kind of horror game they wouldn't have a lot of control over their characters. Although we dabbled in corruption mechanics, we didn't implement any sanity-shattering rules. Despite this, the players still felt I forced a play style on them that they didn't sign on for.
Call of Cthulhu and D20 Games Have Different Power Arcs
It's worth noting just how opposite these two systems are, even though they can look similar -- D20 Call of Cthulhu has stats for lots of Lovecrafitan monsters, but that doesn't mean the play style is the same. Simply put, playing a game of Call of Cthulhu means you buy into your character's weaknesses. My brother, who enjoyed playing his character as a terrified wimp (and also the geeky genius of the group), dove into his role as someone who would lose his mind when faced with extraterrestrial terrors. The other players didn't find it amusing, and frequently complained that the monsters were overpowered.
Of course, the monsters WERE overpowered, which is part of what makes Cthulhoid monstrosities so terrifying. Often the players had to find other ways to defeat creatures besides just shooting them or blowing them up. D20 Modern lends itself to a combative style of play, but the nature of investigation and the cautious approach was at odds with their competitive play style that they took from D&D.
These two confounding factors led to a bigger problem which I only began to notice near the end of the campaign.
"The Needs of the Many Outweigh the Needs of the Few"
As the campaign progressed, our heroes -- well aware that the end of the world was at stake -- began to take on a nihilistic view. They didn't care who they killed or blew up if it meant defeating entities from beyond from destroying the world. Their argument, one that was difficult to counter as their characters saw more and more hideous monsters lurking in the shadows, was that they had to do whatever was necessary to get the job done.
This changed their behavior in scenarios where for example, there was the possibility that a kindly old lady might be possessed by an evil entity, or someone might be held hostage. They didn't care, they had a world to save, so they would just blow up everyone to be safe...and if someone innocent got hurt, well they probably would die if the world ended anyway.
In some ways I had succeeded in turning the characters into the monsters they eventually became. I never forced them -- the character decisions all led to the point where they ended up having to make sacrifice to save the world or revert to their own selfish ends -- but my vision of the characters "going out with a bang" as part of their grand sacrifice ultimately soured them on the game completely. It sounded great on paper, but it wasn't fun.
If I were to do things differently, I would talk over the tone of the campaign first and be honest with them about what was to come (without giving too much away of course). In the end I think I knew they would say no, which is why I ran the campaign the way I did. Although the game concluded successfully, knowing the players didn't have fun in the latter parts of the campaign is a harsh lesson to learn after three years of gaming together. Because if we're not having fun, why bother gaming at all?
The basic campaign was a Majestic-12 style series of agents who were handpicked to defeat Lovecraftian threats. The establishing backstory put them through training in preparation for the horrors that would come, but it felt more like a superhero game or a secret agent game than a horror game. And initially at least, that's what the game was -- fighting terrorists while trying to keep their cover as regular citizens. You can read the entire story hour here.
It didn't last though, at least in part because I had always planned to introduce a grand Cthulhu-style arc. More and more supernatural elements crept in, our heroes' abilities increased as they got more powerful, and soon one of them was a psychic capable of bringing down entire buildings on bad guys. Their firepower increased accordingly. In the finale the heroes discovered that they were all masks of Nyarlathotep -- clones who were fated to rule the world -- and to avoid evil winning they self-destructed by aiming an orbital laser at themselves. I thought it was epic.
My players hated it. In fact, it was the last time I ever gamed with them. So what went wrong?
We Didn't Create a Social Contract First
Everyone in the campaign was a friend of mine for decades, so our play styles were well-established and they were comfortable with me as a game master. But that wasn't the problem -- or rather, that level of comfort is what enabled me to spring a Cthulhu-style game on them.
I never asked the players if they wanted to play a horror game. Call of Cthulhu had a bad rep with them as a game where "you go nuts and die." What the issue really was about was player agency, and my players were concerned that in running that kind of horror game they wouldn't have a lot of control over their characters. Although we dabbled in corruption mechanics, we didn't implement any sanity-shattering rules. Despite this, the players still felt I forced a play style on them that they didn't sign on for.
Call of Cthulhu and D20 Games Have Different Power Arcs
It's worth noting just how opposite these two systems are, even though they can look similar -- D20 Call of Cthulhu has stats for lots of Lovecrafitan monsters, but that doesn't mean the play style is the same. Simply put, playing a game of Call of Cthulhu means you buy into your character's weaknesses. My brother, who enjoyed playing his character as a terrified wimp (and also the geeky genius of the group), dove into his role as someone who would lose his mind when faced with extraterrestrial terrors. The other players didn't find it amusing, and frequently complained that the monsters were overpowered.
Of course, the monsters WERE overpowered, which is part of what makes Cthulhoid monstrosities so terrifying. Often the players had to find other ways to defeat creatures besides just shooting them or blowing them up. D20 Modern lends itself to a combative style of play, but the nature of investigation and the cautious approach was at odds with their competitive play style that they took from D&D.
These two confounding factors led to a bigger problem which I only began to notice near the end of the campaign.
"The Needs of the Many Outweigh the Needs of the Few"
As the campaign progressed, our heroes -- well aware that the end of the world was at stake -- began to take on a nihilistic view. They didn't care who they killed or blew up if it meant defeating entities from beyond from destroying the world. Their argument, one that was difficult to counter as their characters saw more and more hideous monsters lurking in the shadows, was that they had to do whatever was necessary to get the job done.
This changed their behavior in scenarios where for example, there was the possibility that a kindly old lady might be possessed by an evil entity, or someone might be held hostage. They didn't care, they had a world to save, so they would just blow up everyone to be safe...and if someone innocent got hurt, well they probably would die if the world ended anyway.
In some ways I had succeeded in turning the characters into the monsters they eventually became. I never forced them -- the character decisions all led to the point where they ended up having to make sacrifice to save the world or revert to their own selfish ends -- but my vision of the characters "going out with a bang" as part of their grand sacrifice ultimately soured them on the game completely. It sounded great on paper, but it wasn't fun.
If I were to do things differently, I would talk over the tone of the campaign first and be honest with them about what was to come (without giving too much away of course). In the end I think I knew they would say no, which is why I ran the campaign the way I did. Although the game concluded successfully, knowing the players didn't have fun in the latter parts of the campaign is a harsh lesson to learn after three years of gaming together. Because if we're not having fun, why bother gaming at all?
