Horror In TTRPGs From The Perspective Of Someone Who Scares Easily

I'm just going to come out and say it: I have a rough relationship with anxiety, and horror media is one of those things I avoid almost altogether because it ruins my brain long after it's concluded. While I enjoy grimdark fiction, twisted fairytales, and other horror-adjacent media, I often cannot abide by true horror as it strikes something that is more than just uncomfortable inside me. That being said, one place where I have found peace and even joy in the horror genre is that of TTRPGs and other board games. Why is this? 

What Makes Horror In A TTRPG Different? 

First and foremost, when watching a film or reading a book, even if surrounded by people, I find them to be mostly solitary activities. Often, it is culturally inappropriate to talk during movies, and the suspense of horror can easily be broken by casual conversation, sort of missing the point of such films. Conversely, collaboration and conversation aren't just incentivized when engaging in spooky time games with friends; they are actively required for the complete gaming experience. That is where I find the line to be drawn and why I adore scary fictional scenarios through the lens of a game rather than other traditional media. 

There is something about the cooperative elements of playing a game set in a spooky setting that hits differently. First, I am not alone. We are all going through this experience together, and alleviating the anxieties of being alone relieves the senses. Secondly is my trust in my friends and family with whom I choose to play these games. It's no small feat to make me, a self-professed scardie cat, comfortable with the intentionally uncomfortable space presented by a horror game. The trust we share, along with a drawing of lines and veils, helps to protect my psyche from the torment that I commonly attribute to horror and allows me to engage with the medium without feeling existential dread, which can persist days or weeks after consumption. Finally, the third point is control. When you play a horror-based game or TTRPG, you are in control of the characters, their actions, and, in some ways, the scenario presented. As with most anxiety suffers, a huge issue I face is feeling a lack of control over my life, my future, and my reality. Therefore, being given some fraction of the reigns in telling a story, rather than being subjected to it, comes paired with a soothing sensation that takes away the bitter bite at the edge of anxious thoughts. 

Hence, with that long-winded preamble out of the way, I'd like to talk about my experience with horror and suspense gaming and how they have changed my perspective as a player, dungeon master, and storyteller.  

Mansions Of Madness

"We could just not bother the unimaginable demons crafted by our darkest desires and go drink at the tavern instead."

The Rogue

Lovecraftian fiction and I have a vile history marred by the scars of a love-hate relationship. On the one hand, the unknowable and unfathomable horror of the universe is rife with material for making some of the most compelling experiences that encapsulate the human experience. On the other, the unknowable and incomprehensible horror of the universe is terrifying to the point where it sparks a crisis of the existential variety into the very depths of my soul. As such, I was trepidatious when first encountering Mansions of Madness. However, I had no idea how wrong the assumption I would hate it would be.

The narrative of Mansions takes heavy inspiration from H.P. Lovecraft's collected works, with a healthy helping of traditional fantasy and noir elements woven throughout. It is pulpy, existential, and incredibly dark fiction, making it a perfect tabletop game setting. However, the beauty of Mansions of Madness is that it doesn't revel the grotesque or have any of its scenarios be unwinnable. Yes, many of the sessions I've played of the game have ended up in outright or mixed failure, but never once did I feel hopeless or powerless against the forces allied against me. That is where Mansions separates itself from its source material, as the original lore of Lovecraft presented a bleak interpretation of existence and called upon themes of horror that eat away at the psyche and scream of madness. The addition of friends doing ridiculous accents and hamming up the more unrealistic elements of the game helps, too. 

Ten Candles

"Death comes for us all. Not as a looming force of evil or malicious intent, but as an old friend guiding us to our next adventure." The Cleric. 

As of the time of writing, I have only played a single game of Ten Candles, and it stands as the inspiration that sparked the idea of this article. On the surface, Ten Candles appeared to me as yet another off-the-shelf horror TTRPG designed to scare players while empowering GMs to make a story about the unknown and the dark. However, after just a few pages of reading, it was plain to me that this was a game designed to be a narrative celebration, not for the GM or the writers, but for everyone gathered around the gaming table. 

I'll not spoil many of the mechanics or storytelling elements here, as if you are interested in playing, the less you know about the system, the better. What I will say is that the system is designed to slowly build tension and subvert the expectations of the players, along with the game master. However, the game's mechanics are hardly necessary when compared to the narrative-building element of the game. At the start of a session of Ten Candles, it stated plainly and with complete confidence that none of the player characters will survive the night, and once the tenth and final candle is blown out, everyone's characters will be dead. Knowing how the game will end first and foremost, the narrative becomes about the journey to get to that inevitable outcome, not the conclusion itself. During play, you will have the room lit by just ten tealights and will be burning your character's traits throughout, watching as mechanically and narratively, these characters are stripped of what made them unique and ultimately unifying them in their inevitable demise. 

While the premise may seem bleak, and it is, there is something about playing Ten Candles that screams to be heard as it shouts about the value of life and the experiences we have before our deaths. It gets very meta in a sense, and never have I experienced a piece of media that scared me to the core but left me feeling oddly hopeful for the future. Moreover, with the ritualistic elements of the game, from the burning of papers to the blowing out of candles, it fosters a sense of community that brings a table together over time, crafting a cohesive narrative told in equal parts by the players and the game master. If you ever have the chance to play this game with a group of friends, especially if they are all good storytellers, then don't pass it up. No matter what your opinions are on horror, Ten Candles strikes a chord and instills a vibe that is different from any other experience. 

Dungeons And Dragons

"I'm a DRAGON. Stop trying to seduce me and be AFRAID!" - The Ancient Red Dragon to the Bard. 

This wouldn't be a Brazen Blog post if I didn't mention D&D at least once. While the big-daddy of TTRPGs is a lot of things and can cover just about any genre or trope, there are a whole lot of horror roots that spread across the history of DnD. Have you ever been playing a nice fun game of Dungeons and Dragons only to have your character knocked out and battered by an unknowable force of nature like a Beholder or Mindflayer? Are you the kind of person who hits every treasure chest before opening it because a mimic once almost ate your character? Both of those scenarios, and so many more, are innately terrifying. Yet, as quintessential D&D experiences that are at their roots built from horror, it is done in such a way that it is approachable and easy to digest, even for someone like me.

D&D's system, at its core, is made to empower players and GMs alike. As players, you take on the role of adventurers, heroes, or ordinary folks thrust into a life of the extraordinary. As the GM, you are entrusted by your table to craft storylines and plot hooks that the party will enjoy. In both cases, there is a lot of power given to you, not just mechanically but narratively as well. When you sit down to lead or conquer the hordes of the undead, you know there is a chance of victory, and that chance is only compounded by the allies who surround you in and out of the game. Horror tropes in D&D have never struck the anxiety chord with me because my personal gaming philosophy is to tell a satisfying narrative and pluck at every emotion essential to the human experience, fear and terror being just one of those parts to a gratifying whole. 

So, with that all said, I'd like to empower folks like me to give the horror genre another try. Get out there and experience a game like Ten Candles, or gather your party and delve headfirst into the unknown chasms of the Underdark. When horror is done right, you will come out of the experience with a greater sense of self and drive to make the most of your time on this Earth. And if it's not done right, perhaps it is time to make your own horror game with all the safety trappings and themes you and the people around you enjoy.