“If nothing we do
matters, then all that matters is what we do” Angel, Angel S2
In this piece we will be looking at both video games and pen
& paper RPG’s, and their relationship with Cosmic Horror. We have already
had a look at the bare bones of Cosmic Horror as a sub-genre, and a few
examples of how film can reach into that genre. Now, as mentioned at the end of
the last piece, we will use games to look at a new element to consider when
trying writing for Cosmic Horror: Player Agency.
To keep things as simple as possible, player agency here
simply refers to the control a player has over their own actions in the game,
and the impact those actions have on the game world at large. In video games, a
lower level of agency is not necessarily a bad thing, but for pen & paper
RPG’s a low level of player agency can be crippling. This presents a new
challenge not just for horror games in general, but for those Storytellers
looking to reach into the realm of the cosmic in particular.
Firstly though, let us have a look at video games. In
general, agency in video games tends to be raised or lowered by how a player progresses through the
story – tactics, character builds etc. The meat of the story itself tends not
to change, and player actions usually have very little discernible impact on
the world itself along the way.
Consider the difference between Amnesia: The Dark Descent
and Telltale’s The Walking Dead. Both are reasonably well regarded horror
games. Amnesia is a first-person exploration game, whereas The Walking Dead is
a cinematic, choice based game. Amnesia has the player follow one path and
plotline to the end of the story, whereas The Walking Dead boasts a great deal
of dialogue and action based choices that determine how the story plays out.
Would you say one game allows a significantly greater degree of agency than the
other does?
In this case, not really. The Walking Dead certainly allows
for a little more agency in that you can affect which NPC’s die when and how
they relate to you, but beyond that, the plot is not significantly affected.
You still go through every sequence in roughly the same manner, the ending is
pretty much the same, and no matter how crazy you act, Clementine is not going
to run away or disobey you. So really, there might be the illusion of agency,
but it is not actually there.
Does this make the game any lesser an experience? Unless it
was sold to you as being a game in which your choices mattered, not really. It
is still an excellent example of the zombie-horror genre and true to the themes
of The Walking Dead universe in general. Likewise, Amnesia is no lesser a game
for being on rails – the joy of that game is all in the presentation and puzzle
solving.
What does this mean for the aspiring video game writer when
aiming for the cosmic? Nothing different to anything that has already been
discussed really. The story is still key to whether or not your game hits the
right sub-genre. And so long as your advertising and presentation is
consistent, you don’t necessarily need to worry about player agency that much –
a well written railroad game is still going to be more engaging than a poorly
written multiple choice game.
Unfortunately, this does not work as well when it comes time
to write up an RPG for you and your friends. If you are writing a gamebook for
publication, then everything we have discussed still applies. You will need to
make sure the system you come up with supports the goals of the writing, but
that is a subject beyond this series. You still need that sense of existential dread in the main book, but you also can't give the reader all the answers either. Fortunately, for that corebook your objective is not too different to writing a video game. Where things get really interesting is
when it comes time to either write a module for your setting, or for a
Storyteller to write a game for their group.
Before we get into that, I would like to discuss the concept
of player agency with regards to RPG’s. Roleplaying is generally a
collaborative effort between the Storyteller and the Players. The Storyteller
may create the skeleton of the plot and act as an arbiter for how decisions and
actions play out, but the players are just as involved in determining the
course of the story, and its’ impact upon the world they’re playing in.
Contrast that with a video game, where the story is already written and the
path through the story is set, but the player is just getting hands-on to see
how it unfolds. Simply by taking pre-determination out of the equation, we
greatly increase the agency players have within the game, because they are now
actively involved in crafting the
story, not just interacting with it.
This does make things a little bit trickier when it comes to
writing a module for a setting, and much trickier when crafting a game for your
group. Module writing is a little easier in that you are creating a completed
story (albeit one designed to be open ended to allow for continued play, unless
it is an end-times scenario), but you still need to consider player agency.
Essentially, this means you need to balance the demands of a completed story
with the ability of the players to find unorthodox/unthought-of of solutions to
the scenario. No mean feat.
When writing a campaign for your own gaming group, things
get even trickier. Now you have to have at least the skeleton of a story,
otherwise you have nothing for the players to start engaging with. However, you
also need to be flexible enough to account for the players having the
capability to choose their own path through this world. Once you have set them
loose, they could go anywhere, assume anything is important, who knows? Plot
helps keep people focused, but if you beat down all of their options into one
singular path, then why aren’t they playing a video game instead?
How does all this then apply when seeking to create cosmic
horror in an RPG? We do appear to have a great problem here, balancing
increased player agency with the reality questioning/endless mystery demands of
the cosmic horror sub-genre. If nothing the players do matter in the grand
scheme of things, why bother doing anything?
Firstly, focus on the personal. Sure, the universe might not
care what anyone does, but that family you saved from a cult trying to summon a
monster? They probably care quite a lot. Cthulhu might awake and destroy the
world in a few hundred years, but right now, that Lighthouse Keeper and their
family are happy Deep Ones did not carry them off for unspeakable tortures.
Achievements matter, no matter how great or small.
Secondly, remember to never draw back the curtain all the
way. The characters at some point should realise that what they thought about
their place in the universe is wrong, but at the same time they should never
fully realise any of the greater mysteries out there. Uncovering the link
between Majestic 12 and the Greys is one thing (and a worthy goal in of
itself), but finding out the truth behind the Greys should never happen. Likewise,
it would be best to never lend credence to any particular source of cosmic
truth – it is best if faith is presented as just that: faith. Even cultists of
Azathoth should have no more proof that they have reached some great
universal truth than any other religion.
Finally, and most important for the Storyteller, do not use
the veil of cosmic horror as an excuse to put down your players and arbitrarily
cut their agency/input from your game. Achievements matter, so let the players
have them. Horror in general has a problem with this, and cosmic horror in
particular can very easily turn into “the universe sucks, and so does your
character!” Be careful to avoid this trap – just because the universe sucks
doesn’t mean your game has to.
Hopefully this has been of some use. In the final part, we’ll
do a quick summary of what we’ve covered thus far, and add in a few sources
that may help you go beyond the basics I can offer.
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