#vaesen

faithful hound

Vaesen is a game about investigating the living folklore in Northern Europe. It’s a horror game, but also a mystery game with a…conservationist’s bent? Not only do trolls and faeries and such exist, but they are a necessary part of the topography (physical and emotional, really), and the increasing encroachment of humans into the wild places during the industrial era causes concerns for all creatures, mundane and fantastic. Puzzling out a new borderland for coexistence is often the theme of the game.

I feel like there are two other places where there exist similar tensions between the mythical landscape and the mundane one. This is a sourcebook for one of them: Mythic Britain & Ireland (2022). And it’s written by Graeme Davis, who was instrumental in early Warhammer fantasy and writer of one of my favorite Fighting Fantasy books, Midnight Rogue. In his introduction, he writes how he had always wanted to pen a book like this that married British folklore and gaming; his reverence for his subject matter shines through.

Britain, littered with neolithic site and haunted by fae folk, is such a good fit for this treatment. The first 40 pages is a general sourcebook, listing real world places and pairing them with their most interesting folkloric elements, always with an eye toward the tension between the conqueror (the English) and the (sort of) conquered (the Scots, Welsh and Irish). Elegant and thought-provoking, I could read another 200 pages of this. Davis then presents us with the Society, which is dedicated to investigating supernatural manifestations in the UK. Following this is a long section of new monsters (Black dogs! The Nuckelavee! Knockers! Pooka!). 

The book wraps up with three scenarios. The first is a delicious bit of folk horror that sees the obvious awakening of an unnatural force (a powerful hag) that becomes more dangerous because the people who could stop it initially muck about trying to find reasonable explanations for what’s going on. The second is a reverse, where a local vicar causes problems by trying to purge the mine of its knockers. The final scenario brings the action to the extremely mundane city of London and an artist’s colony with an extraordinary leader.

It’s a fantastic expansion for the game and ripe with possibility.   

My character for a Vaesen game with my friends :D Heidi, an old socialite. I can’t wait to play for the first time 😼🫶 and initial sketch below

It wasn’t a normal illness, of course. Part of her knew this from the first day. Still, when all she had was stubborn defiance, what could she do but lie- even to herself?

She was on sick leave from the Society, though the concept of ‘leave’ had largely fallen out of use as the numbers dwindled- they couldn’t afford to get rid of someone, even someone who was too unwell to be on site more than once a week. Agnes knew several such people who, in some way or another, had become cornerstones- simply because there was nobody else to offer more support than them.

Nobody there suspected anything, of course. And her husband, bless his soul, was the most clueless man she’d ever met. She wondered absently who would realize first- her husband, or one of her friends at the castle. She never stayed away so long- even when she was sick. It was only a matter of time until someone figured out what was going on. She wouldn’t be able to hide it forever. At some point, even if her husband believed that she had caught something- her belly would get too large to hide under blouses and skirts.

The tears welled up in her eyes as she caught her breath, having spit up nothing but stomach acid for the second time that morning. She held the chamber pot with a deathly grip under her callused hands as she started to shake. Her breathing failed to slow as she took deeper and heavier breaths, the blood rushing to her cheeks- away from her hands- until she picked up the chamber pot and flung it across the room in an attempt to get it as far away from her as possible.

The sick splattered across the walls and floors as the pot clanged against the ground. If she didn’t clean it up right now, it would stain within minutes. The snot and tears and throw-up ran down her face and wet her clothes.

It wasn’t fair. She shouldn’t be pregnant. Couldn’t be. Everything was going well. She was happily married. Her husband was wonderful. What he couldn’t offer her in intellectual, or at least interesting, debate, she found in abundance at Castle Gyllencreutz. And what physical intimacy she no longer wanted from him, well. She had Algot for that. Everything had started to fit into place over the last few years, and she had been happy.

This put all of that in jeopardy.

Agnes wanted to scream. To yell. To punch something, someone, for doing this to her- but the spit-up on the walls festered. She turned and grabbed a bucket and a rag.

The trap was so elaborate it didn’t even have the decency to allow her her fury. She had to hide her carelessness.

How would her husband react when he found out? He’d be delighted, no doubt. Start writing down names. Jonas if it was a boy. Lena if it was a girl. She scrubbed harder, trying to quiet the bubbling thoughts in her head.

Kerstin. Jan. Annelis.

The soap foamed terribly on the rag. Her knuckles were bleeding. She put one in her mouth, sucking at the blood, tasting the soap and probable residual acid, as she switched to her left hand. It was over. Her life was over.

What about Algot? How would he feel? …if it was his, would he tell anyone? Would he even know?

She stopped scrubbing.

Agnes would be able to tell. She would know. Algot, even if he didn’t know for sure… would he tell anyone? Her husband? God, what would he do?

It was his fault. None of this would have happened if… if Algot wasn’t around, or if her husband…

It wasn’t fair. She felt her face flushing once again as she swirled the line around in her mind. It wasn’t fair. Her husband would keep going to his job. Algot would stay butler at Castle Gyllencreutz. And she would be at home, taking care of a baby. Watching the world pass her by. Letting people die to Vaesen. People that could have survived if she’d been there. And for what? A little version of her husband?

Nothing would change for them. Nothing would change for anyone but her. And everything would change for her. She’d have to give up everything. And if he found out the child was Algot’s, if it was… what would he do with her?

It was infuriating. She would bear their children. They would live the rest of their lives. They would win. And she would have nothing.

She paused. Her face, which had been steadily scrunching up without her realizing it, relaxed a bit. What if… they didn’t have to know?

Madeleine Lindelöf.

She wasn’t sure. She hadn’t asked, or brought it up. But when she had gone to Studsvik for a job last winter, there had been a lot of unchaperoned women staying at the hotel Lindelöf. Several of them with child. She’d had her suspicions. If it was true… If Madeleine did what Agnes thought she did…

Well. If she didn’t, that would be fine too. She could tell the people of Studsvik it was a miscarriage.

As for her husband… he wouldn’t question it. She was going to the seaside for her health, or for a long-term job from the Society. He might not even care. And the Society would just have to manage without her for a while.

She started scrubbing again, a renewed vigor in her movements. She could fix this. She could recover. She could have the life she wanted again. It would just be a quick blip, in the course of things.

She started to do the math in her head. She could have her stuff packed by tonight. Would she wait until her husband came back before she left? Yes, yes. If she rushed now, it would only be suspicious.

The Society? She would send them a letter. A letter was good enough. She’d be back in a year. She’d be back in a year.

Algot… she shook her head. She couldn’t bear to see him. To talk to him. He would get away with everything. No one would even bat an eye at him if their relations came out.

No, she’d see him again when she came back. Maybe by then, the anger will have faded. Things could go back to normal.

For now… she’d have to make it through.

───────────────────⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺──────────────────

(TW! Mentions of murder, gore, general horror things, etc. You get the gist.)

Horror in TTRPGs is severely common. Whether the genre of the game itself is horror, like Call of Cthulhu or Vaesen, or when there are subtle hints of horror elements throughout your high fantasy or sci-fi campaign. It's only pertinent that horror will always be lurking around somewhere in the darkest corners of your game. Regardless of your awareness of it. Very in character, if you ask me.

In this blog, I'll mostly be analyzing horror that exists in TTRPGs and expressing my own opinion on how to deliver horror as a GM and as a player. Yes, that's right. The players can increase horror in games as well. It's a misconception that the burden of providing terrifying elements in a game falls heavy on the Game Master's shoulders alone.

I. Do You Even Horror, Bro? Forewarning, personally I've yet to try more TTRPGs where the genre itself is purely horror. Despite that, I have played a lot of Call of Cthulhu games and I'm a GM for CoC myself. On top of this, I'm quite a fan of the horror genre in general, from video games to movies. Slashers being a few of my favorite movie genres.

In TTRPGs, horror relies heavily on narration and exposition. Of course, you could provide illustrations and/or visualizations but the effectiveness of terrifying situations in roleplaying games lies in the art of discussing and describing just how horrific the situation is for the characters experiencing it.

How is it that narration plays a far more effective role than just seeing the illustration of a dead body? Well, scientifically your mind connects situations through distinct neurological pathways that trigger a reaction. Now, visuals do still trigger this! But it's fast-paced and happens in the subcortical areas of your brain. For those of you who have zero clue what that entails, it means it's only a fleeting moment of horror when you see a picture of an eldritch monster. Because eventually, your brain gets used to it by memory. It gets desensitized to seeing it.

Meanwhile, when it is described to you in a comprehensive way, your favorite auditory system, the ears, connect with your brain to create deeper, perception-based understanding. You begin to evaluate the description by yourself. The imagination begins to unfold, and you don't commit the picture to memory, you form the memory itself. It allows everything to be highly personalized to what YOU find horrifying. It allows you to immerse yourself by imagining the scenario. And the cherry on top? It allows creativity to reimburse the entire game. Players will start discussing the situation at hand with more levels of analysis because of the differing imaginations that exist in every mind at the table.

Combine auditory explanations and narrative situations with horrific visuals and images that are still relatively open to interpretation and BOOM! You've got effective, not boring, horror! With space to save for the table to add to the drama.

Now, one cannot rely on shock-factor alone. Sometimes, ambiance, tension, build-up, etc. must be used to provide the best fear one can attain. I'll explain more on how a GM may provide spookiness in their campaign/oneshot/adventure down in chapter 2.

II. So You Want To Scare Your Players? So, you're GM-ing your first horror TTRPG, and you're unsure how to actually go about scaring your players. Let's discuss exactly what makes GM-ing horror so fun to execute;

As I've mentioned before, horror in TTRPGs gets executed best through narration and exposition. But there are other aspects that make the scenario that much more fearful.

I might sound like I'm glazing myself (and I am), but I've been praised with my ability to create a scary ambiance. Something about unnerving tensions in the air being crafted through my very words. I found that the best tool to create tension is to use the surrounding area.

Flickering lights, swaying trees, and rustling bushes do help create an unnerving feeling. And it's even better if you have some sort of soundboard. But do you know what else creates a horrific ambiance when audibly describing a situation as a GM?

Do you? No?

Okay I'll spell it out for you, it's adjectives.

Well, okay, you caught me, it's more than that, but that's the start! When describing a situation, adjectives make for good mates. Now of course you could say; "You stand in an eerie, dark forest." But how about we add more adjectives? And make it... dramatic?

"You stand in an engulfing void... A void that staggers in comparison to the darkest pits of hell. The surrounding trees provide a sense of unnerving dread as you slowly feel your way out the forest. You swear you could see faces in the trees."

Being absurd and dramatic with your descriptions help create what's called "evocative language". Meaning your very words evoke feelings into your players. This is often seen in old horror tales like works of H.P. Lovecraft or even Grimm's Fairytales (yes, I know that technically that isn't horror, but it was WAY darker than it should be.)

H.P. Lovecraft is known for being excessive in adjectives. He's known for misleading the reader with his words. To write good horror, you need to stop asking yourself "Can the players visualize what I say?"

Ask yourself; "Can the players FEEL what I say?"

That very aspect you could use is inspired off of his real life quote;

“Never Explain Anything” ― H.P. Lovecraft

THAT! That right there. "Never explain anything" is the basic foundation of good horror. Let your players feel the dread of mystery. Let them question if what you said was for dramatic effect or if you were being serious as hell and it's apart of the game. Let them be confused!! That's apart of the fun in horror! Make them lost!

"The castle was large and built with black stones." Very descriptive, and very effective for visualization. But...

"Ink-dipped halls and deep, void towers rose against an empty sun like a corpse reaching out for a savior."

Notice how the second sentence gives less concrete information. You have no idea if it's a castle, it's really up to you to figure out. But the description itself is something H.P. Lovecraft loves to do, evoke imagination. To quote him again;

“Ultimate horror often paralyses memory in a merciful way.” ― H.P. Lovecraft, The Rats in the Walls

He basically says the best horror uses your humanity. Your humane, weak, pre-existing inability to comprehend the content of fear. And that inability is something you cannot change. That inability is mercy.

Use adjectives, use confusion, use ambiance, and create tension. You'll scare your players more effectively once you start questioning how they feel rather than what they see.

II. So You Want To Scare Your GM?!

You! Yes, you! You're a player now! And your GM is running a horror campaign or oneshot that you're very interested in! But you don't want to be a boring player right? You want to impress your GM right?! RIGHT?!

Of course you do, silly. I'll tell you how!

First thing I see in many players is that you might be tempted to find a solution to a situation immediately. Well I say, don't!

Sometimes teenagers run and fall and die. Sometimes people ignore scary situations due to anger, grief, etc. And die. Sometimes dying makes the story fun! Yes, you might be sad you can't continue playing as your character, but think of it this way, now you get to ask your GM if you can play a new character or even better; NPCs, BBEGs, etc.

Now if you don't want to die, okay, fair enough, here's a new tactic. Embrace vulnerability. And embrace ignorance. If your character doesn't know something, resist acting on out-of-character knowledge. Horror thrives on limited perspectives. Even if you know the monster can't enter homes uninvited, your character might barricade every window anyway because they're terrified.

Also! Roleplay consequences bro, if you lose 5 sanity, don't just say it, act it!

"My character stares at the mirror. I know my reflection blinked. I KNOW it moved."

Make it fun, make it tense. Your party will thank you.

Everyone say hi Elpis (left) and Ambra (right)

Elpis belongs to my sick and twisted friend @grillcheeser <3

Check out Webfest-award winning podcast Spirits and Monsters of Old Seattle, a comedy/horror Vaesen actual-play podcast! Follow a group of paranormal investigators as they solve mysteries and get up to shenanigans in 1880s Seattle!

www.spiritsandmonsters.com