Although it’s frequently referred to as such, horror maybe shouldn’t be thought of as a genre at all. Rather, like magic and fantasy elements, it’s something that can be added to any genre to give a very different feel. Thus, horror isn’t found in the Cypher Character Guide and is instead presented here, along with …And There’s Magic, because it can be added to any other genre. Unlike the other genres, horror doesn’t necessarily suggest a setting. Any setting can be horrific. Horror is more of a style. An approach. A mood.
This chapter discusses ways to take any kind of setting or story and make it horror.
Horror isn’t about technology levels or character options. It isn’t really even so much about plot or action as it is about feelings. A good horror story frightens and unnerves (in small doses).
Horror is found in mood and atmosphere, both in the game and at the table. Your storytelling skills can maintain the right vibe in the narrative, but you’ll want to take steps to maintain it among the players as well as their characters.
Running a good horror game is difficult. Consider these tips to scare, creep out, or generally unnerve not only the characters, but the players as well.
Horror games allow us to explore some pretty dark topics from the safety of our game tables. But before you do that, make sure everyone is okay with that. Find out what your players will find “good uncomfortable,” which makes us squirm in our seats in a great horror movie, and “bad uncomfortable,” which actually makes a player feel nauseated, unsafe, or offended. Being scared can be fun, but being sickened isn’t.
Consider the age and maturity of everyone in the game, perhaps in terms of the movie rating system. Tell the players what you think the game you’re running would be rated. If everyone’s okay with an R rating, fine. You can have a spooky game that’s on the level of a kids’ movie rated G—more like Scooby-Doo than Saw, in other words. A PG rating might be right for a game that’s more creepy than horrific, with ghosts and spooky noises but not axe-wielding maniacs.
The different ratings suggest different kinds of content for your game. Finding a dead body is horrible, but watching someone get decapitated is something else entirely. Getting chased around by an alien that wants to eat you is one thing, but having it gestate and burst out of your own intestines is another. You need to know where the line is for everyone participating, and you need to know it right from the beginning.
For more information and advice on safe ways to address consent issues in your game, read the free Consent in Gaming PDF at myMCG.info/consent.
When the PCs encounter something shocking, many times the most realistic response is to scream, stand in abject horror, or run. That might not be the smartest thing to do in the situation, but it’s genuine. What would your accountant do if they saw an axe-wielding maniac coming at them? Let’s face it, unless they truly steeled themselves with all their will, they’d probably scream and run.
When a PC encounters something horrific, utterly disgusting, dreadful, impossible, or otherwise shocking, call for an Intellect defense roll based on the level of the creature involved, or simply an appropriate level as decided by the GM (see the Shock Levels table). Failure might mean that for one round, the player loses control of the character, and the GM decides what the PC does next. This usually means that the character runs, screams, gibbers, stares slack-jawed, or just does nothing. However, GMs should welcome player input into this situation. The point is to portray that when we’re shocked, we don’t always react in the best way, the smartest way, or even the way we want to. Fear is a powerful thing.
Alternatively, failure on the Intellect defense roll might mean that the character suffers Intellect damage equal to the level of the defense task. This indicates an overall toll that numerous shocks and horrors can have on a person. You might have a situation where a character literally dies of fright.
[BEGIN TABLE]
Event Level
Something unexpected darts or jumps out 1
Something suddenly moves just out of the corner of the eye 2
A sudden loud noise (like a scream) 2
Unexpectedly seeing a corpse 2
Watching someone die 3
Seeing something impossible (like an inanimate object sliding across the floor) 4
Watching a friend die 5
Seeing a monstrous creature Creature level
Witnessing something supernatural (like a spell) 5
Seeing something mind-bending (like an impossible, multidimensional demigod coalescing out of thin air) 8
[END TABLE]
For horror games, GMs can implement a rule called Horror Mode. The idea is to create a feeling of escalating dread and menace by changing one die roll mechanic. In the game, things begin as normal. The PCs interact with each other and the NPCs, investigate, research, travel, and so on. But when they enter the haunted house, the serial killer gets close, the elder things beneath the earth awaken, or whatever horrific situation planned by the GM begins, things change. At this time, the GM announces that the game has gone into Horror Mode.
This is a key for the players (not the characters) to recognize that things are getting bad. It’s the RPG equivalent of spooky music beginning to play in a horror film. While in Horror Mode, the rules for GM intrusions governed by die rolls change. Normally this happens only on a roll of 1, but when Horror Mode starts, it becomes a roll of 1 or 2. And then it escalates. As time passes, GM intrusions happen on a roll of 1 to 3, then a roll of 1 to 4, and so on. This potentially means that a die roll in Horror Mode can indicate success in a task and still trigger a GM intrusion.
As the intrusion range changes with each escalation, the GM should announce this to the players. The feeling of rising tension should be dramatic and overt.
[BEGIN TABLE]
Activity Intrusion Range Increases by 1
Exploring a large area Every time a new intrusion is indicated by a die roll
Exploring Every ten minutes or every time a new intrusion is indicated by a die roll
Combat Each round
[END TABLE]
For example, while the PCs are exploring a dark swamp (a large area), the game goes into Horror Mode and intrusions are indicated on a 1 or 2. During this exploration, one of the players rolls a 2. Not only is there an intrusion, but now the range escalates to 1, 2, or 3. The character is almost dragged into a spot of quicksand-like muck. Then the PCs find an old abandoned house in the middle of the swamp. They enter, and now the escalation rate goes up if they roll a 1, 2, or 3, or every ten minutes that passes in the game. They explore the house for twenty minutes (escalating intrusions to 1 to 5), and during the investigation of the kitchen, someone rolls a 3, triggering an intrusion. A cabinet opens mysteriously and a strangely carved clay pot falls, striking the character. This also escalates the intrusion rate, so they now occur on a roll of 1 to 6. When the PCs reach the attic, they encounter the dreaded swamp slayer, a half man, half beast that thrives on blood. It attacks, and now the range goes up during each round of combat. After four rounds of fighting, intrusions happen on a roll of 1 to 10—half the time. Things are getting dicey, and they’re only going to get worse.
When the GM decides that Horror Mode has ended, they should tell the players and set the GM intrusion rate back to normal, happening only on a roll of 1 or when the GM awards XP.
(Horror Mode is a very “meta” rule. It gives players knowledge that their characters don’t have. This is similar to how the viewers of a horror movie or readers of a horror story often know more than the characters on the screen or page. It heightens the tension. Players can express the start of Horror Mode by having their characters talk about goosebumps or a feeling of being watched, but this is not necessary.)
With the GM intrusions coming fast and furious toward the end of Horror Mode, it’s easy to run out of ideas. In combat, intrusions might just mean that the monster or villain gets a surprise extra attack or inflicts more damage. Perhaps a PC is thrown to the ground or nearer to the edge of a cliff. If the characters are running away, one might trip and fall. If the PCs are exploring, a bookcase topples, potentially hitting someone. Think of all the similar moments you’ve seen in horror films.
Sometimes, if the GM prefers, the GM intrusion can simply be something frightening, like a moan or a whisper. These aren’t dangerous to the PCs, but they escalate the tension and indicate that something bad is getting closer.
In fact, while in Horror Mode, GMs should mostly refrain from doing anything bad, ominous, or dangerous unless it’s an intrusion (either from a die roll or through the awarding of XP). In a horror game, GM intrusions are an indication that things are bad and getting worse, and whenever possible, the GM should allow the Horror Mode escalation to drive the action. This makes the GM more of a slave to the dice than in other Cypher situations, but that’s okay.
Consider this example. The PCs have tracked something that is probably committing a series of horrific murders to an old factory. They enter the building to explore. The GM knows where the creature is hiding in the factory, but decides that it doesn’t become aware of the characters until an intrusion is indicated. The only clue the PCs have is a mysterious noise off in the darkness. The creature doesn’t move toward them until another GM intrusion occurs. Now they hear something dragging across the factory floor, coming closer. But it’s not until a third intrusion occurs that the creature lunges out from behind an old machine at the PC who rolled the die.
In some ways, the status quo doesn’t change until an intrusion happens. This could be seen as limiting the GM and the need for pacing, but remember that the GM can still have an intrusion occur anytime they desire, in addition to waiting for the low die rolls.
(GMs may want to limit the number of intrusions to no more than one per round, no matter what the dice indicate, but that should be based on the situation.)
Having characters descend into madness is an interesting facet of some kinds of horror and can make long-term horror campaigns more interesting. The easiest way to portray blows to a character’s sanity is through Intellect damage. When PCs encounter something shocking, as described above, they always take Intellect damage. If this damage reduces their Intellect Pool to 0, their maximum Intellect Pool is reduced by 1, then they immediately recover Intellect points equal to 1d6 + their tier.
Characters whose maximum Intellect Pools reach 0 become partially insane (see the box). They immediately regain points (equal to 1d6 + their tier) in their Intellect Pool. If they ever reach a permanent Intellect Pool maximum of 0 again, they go become fully insane and are no longer a playable PC; they become an NPC under the control of the GM.
Intellect Edge offers an interesting means to portray a character who is knowledgeable (and perhaps even powerful in terms of mental abilities) yet mentally fragile. A character with a low Intellect Pool but a high Intellect Edge can perform Intellect actions well (since Edge is very helpful) but is still vulnerable to Intellect damage (where Edge is of no help).
Since Cypher games are meant to be story based, players should recognize that the degrading sanity of their character is part of the story. A player who feels that their character is going mad can talk to the GM, and the two of them can work out the means to portray that—perhaps by making the character partially insane, permanently trading up to 4 points from their Intellect Pool to gain +1 to their Intellect Edge, or anything else that seems appropriate. Mental disorders, manias, psychopathy, schizophrenia, or simple phobias can be added to a character’s traits, but they don’t need to be quantified in game statistics or die rolls. They’re simply part of the character.
Inabilities in personal interaction or any area requiring focus might be appropriate, perhaps allowing the PC to gain training in weird lore or forbidden knowledge. Or maybe the opposite is true—as the character’s mind slowly slips away, they become oddly compelled or can obsessively focus on a single task for indefinite periods, and thus they gain training in that topic or skill. These kinds of changes could be balanced with inabilities, such as being unable to remember important details.
As another way to represent madness, the GM could hinder Intellect tasks that would be considered routine, such as “remembering your friends and family” or “caring what happens to your best friend” or “stopping yourself from injecting a mysterious substance into your veins.” These routine tasks normally have a difficulty of 0, but for a PC who has lost their mind, they might have a difficulty of 1, 2, or even higher. Now the character must make rolls to do even those simple things.
What is presented here is a very fictional look at “madness,” of a kind you’ll find in old horror films or books. It is not a realistic portrayal of actual, real-world mental illness any more than reducing individuals down to a single adjective, noun, and verb is a realistic portrayal of all the things that go into a real person.]