Dance Macabre was a dancing larp based on the larp In Fair Verona((In Fair Verona is a tango-larp-love story made by Tue Beck Saarie (Olling) and Jesper Bruun for 30 players. The game explores different love relationships between male and female characters. The focus of the game is the individual character’s emotions and the attempt to overcome problems and fears around the subject of love. In this larp the dancing is the medium of storytelling and we found that very inspiring. For more information check the website: http://www.danceaffair.org/in-fair-verona/)) by Tue Beck Saarie and Jesper Bruun, and on one chapter of Neil Gaiman’s The Graveyard Book. We initially conceived the game as an experiment to find out whether Czech larpers would even be interested in this style of larp, and whether the Nordic larp approach in general would be welcomed in the Czech Republic. We also wanted to identify the scope of adaptations required to make the Nordic larp-like game attractive for the Czech larp community. This article sums up the concept of the game, the mechanics used and the experience gained from the creation and organization of the game.
Dance Macabre has long been an open wound for me – but I mean that in the positive sense of the word, if there even is such a thing as a positive sense of the word. Now it’s become a strong memory, an emotional experiment that I was glad to have experienced. You don’t need to know any dancing; you just have to be willing to leave a bit of yourself in the game. Ciri – player
This form of the larp was largely inspired by a workshop presenting In Fair Verona at Knutepunkt 2011. After starting the preparations for Dance Macabre in summer 2011, we also attended the run of the In Fair Verona larp in Stockholm 2012, and used the in-game and workshop experience, especially some of the character creation techniques, the dancing and game design techniques, to fine tune the design of our game. We also created an Icebreaker workshop and added elements and techniques focused on nonverbal playing in all the workshops. We outline the main differences between Dance Macabre and In Fair Verona in the text to follow.
The setting and the plot of the game were inspired by the Danse Macabre chapter of Neil Gaiman‘s The Graveyard Book, particularly by the idea of a rare mystical occasion where the living and the dead have the opportunity to meet and communicate. Just as in the book, the location and the time of the game were of no particular importance and none too specific. The personal stories pursued in the game involved the crossing of the border between the living and the dead, and opened up issues such as how to achieve emotional closure, how to say last words before the final departure, how to move on with one’s own life or how to find a peaceful rest at the end of things. An example of story in the game might be possibility to meet and say farewell to your deceased love and find the courage to go on with your life with new hope for better tomorrows or your new love. In the game it was possible to seek revenge through fight (played out symbolically in a dance), but it was impossible to kill – although you could choose death for yourself.
Dance Macabre, photo by Šárka Růžičková
Pre-Game Workshops
I think a lot of thought went into the making of the game – any kind of game or preparation, though it may seem pointless at the time, proves to be useful in other part of the workshops. Iva Tatranová – player
One of the important lessons of our experience with In Fair Verona is that we enjoyed the pre-game workshops as much as the game itself. The workshops for Dance Macabre were four times longer than the game, it was therefore necessary to make them interesting and playful to ensure good, comfortable and friendly mood between players for the later parts of the game. We could see from the players’ hesitant behavior before the event that some were not quite comfortable with not knowing how to play the game and what was expected, so we made it our goal to make the workshops as smooth and easy-going as possible, encouraging players to ask for help whenever they lost track or became insecure about anything. The eight-person organizational team was at hand throughout the workshops, ready to step in, assist or answer any questions. We believe this helped the players to get ready for the game as smoothly as possible.
The 14-hour workshops combined dancing lessons, icebreaking activities, and training in non-verbal expression techniques, as well as lessons on how to create strong and enduring characters and stories. Speaking of which, the methods used to create characters and pursue their individual stories were also strongly inspired by In Fair Verona and applied plenty of similar techniques such as props, short concepts of characters, challenges for the character, or relationships with others as the means to deal with character challenges.
To make the game more interesting, we also included a part of the relationship workshop where players were asked to create and experience a same-sex relationship. A relationship with a person of the same sex was also a compulsory part of every character’s relationships in the game as our way of familiarizing players with all possibilities of the dance and game.
The dancing lessons were inspired by the larp In fair Verona too, but they were arranged in accordance with the preferred approach of each teacher (in four different runs of the game, we cooperated with three different pairs of dancing teachers), although all accounted for the specific needs of the game. The first part of the dancing lessons was incorporated in the Icebreaker workshop on Friday evening in order to introduce players early on to the basics of the specific tango motion and the lead-follow principle. The Saturday morning workshop was focused on tango technique only, while in the afternoon we teach people how to express different emotions and attitudes through dance, and how to use dance to establish relationships between characters. The Sunday morning workshop aimed to imprint the underlying nature of each character in the players’ dance and to teach players when and how to break tango rules to better express their character through dance. In all the workshops we demanded frequent alterations of couples and important part of workshops included change of lead-follow roles and dancing in same sex couples.
Dance Macabre, photo by Šárka Růžičková
We used many of the traditional techniques of dramatic education in our Icebreaker workshop and to a certain extent in other workshops too. In the Icebreaker, we thought the players to get used to being in close physical contact with each other, and to engage emotionally in the game. The technique drills also proved to be beneficial in helping the players to improve the quality of their character engagement in the game by giving them access to simple but effective range of movements to express different emotions and to connect different parts of the entire experience into a single whole. We think this was a very important part of the workshops because it helped players find and learn to express their characters even before they start dancing. Some of the techniques were presented at KP2013 in the workshop Shut your mouth and play it out :-).
To help participants remember the rather extensive quantity of information presented in the workshops, we sticked notes on the walls of the room with inspirational texts and important dancing tips or leads.
Just as at In Fair Verona, we reserved the Saturday evening for the Jam (dance party), where the participants may practice their dancing skills or just relax and party with others.
Game Design
The strongest moment for me was when the bell struck for the twelfth time and the whole evening was coming to an end. Death was walking around us and taking the dead back. And when she was approaching us and I saw her catch a sight of us from the distance, we looked each other in the eye; that made me shiver. Estanor – player
Through the workshops the players acquired the basic understanding of the character they were about to portray (to the extent of the information important for the game), its in-game point of departure and motivations, and the background relationships with other characters. This provided the players with the content for the first half of the game. Most players agreed to have their endings resolved through the process of the game, but some might feel uncomfortable about not knowing how it will all end up, so we gave them a chance to arrange their endings ahead of time. This arrangement also gave couples an opportunity to end up with each other without having to resort to steering the game. In the absence of a strict script, we found it important to give the players a precise timeframe to work with, especially considering that each player is in charge of his own game individually. For this purpose, we divided the game into 3 acts, each consisting of 3 sets, called tandas, and each tanda of 4 songs. From the gameplay perspective, the whole game takes place in the short while that it takes the bells to toll midnight. As a result, the ringing of bells divided the tandas, and bells were also used to mark the beginning and the end of each act, and the beginning and the end of the whole game too. Throughout the game, we used large clocks to identify individual tandas and give the players a good sense of how much time they have left to bring their story to its end.
Dance Macabre, photo by Roman Hřebecký
The acts were divided by short intermissions to give players some rest from dancing the whole time. We did not use a proprietary scenography in our workshop but rather follow the design inspired by In Fair Verona played in Stockholm 2012. Unlike in In fair Verona we decided not to include creation of the scenography in the workshops, but it was created by organizers because characters were more archetypal concepts without any occupation or social status and we wanted to save some time in the time schedule of the whole weekend. The set was conceived as a town square surrounded by buildings that are important for expressing various in-game emotions. The buildings were marked only by lines drawn on the dance floor; we also included certain inspirational props that could be used in the dance (scarf, cards etc.).
The figure of Death, the Grey Lady, played an important part of the game plot. Acted by an organizer, she escorted the deceased into the land of the living, and then guided them back to the land of the dead at the very end of the game. While the characters could not kill each other during the game, the Grey Lady might decide to collect a life during the game for some good reason. The characters were also free to dance with her if they wish to settle any old issues, for example ask why she took someone close to them. According to the players, dancing with the Grey Lady was one of the most intense experiences they ever had.
It should be noted at this point that the dancing aspect of the game, which combines argentine tango and contact improvisation, was not used in the game for its own sake, however enjoyable it may be, but rather as the means to an end, an instrument of personal expression of the player’s character and its story. Players in Dance Macabre were encouraged to play the whole game in silence and only through nonverbal communication. Unlike in In Fair Verona players did not talk to each other in the game at all. Even though we had doubts whether it will provide range of expressions wide enough to experience the story in its’ complexity, we were happy to see that it actually intensified the whole experience. The nonverbal aspect of the game made the entire experience considerably more intense and players tended to experience stronger bleed than they usually do from other larps.
After the Game
I was very pleased that the organizers did their best to create good after-game mental hygiene. They were aware the game can be difficult to cope with, that the aftereffects can be long and problematic and so they prepared for it and I think they did everything they could to help us, so that we wouldn’t leave as emotional wretches, but had mostly positive experiences and memories instead. Genevieve – player
Dance Macabre is (for me) like good whisky. First it’s bitter and doesn’t taste like much, but the flavor gradually improves and you start to really appreciate it. The final reflection came too soon for me – I drank too much of that whisky and was still a bit drunk. Maník – player
Dance Macabre, photo by Šárka Růžičková
The game ended on Sunday afternoon and it was followed by short period of deroleing and debriefing. As in In Fair Verona, players were encouraged to discuss their experience and their characters’ stories. The first run of the game revealed that players tended to be very emotional after the game, so we added some techniques to help the de-roleing process (i.e. naming the character, talking about it like about a stranger, a short game reminder about their personalities). The game appeared to exert a rather strong bleed effect on many participants, but regrettably, the timeframe available for the game did not allow for more post-game activities.
Summary
Four steps to a brilliant game: a step to the right, a step to the left, forwards and backwards. Death, love, hatred, forgiveness. Sindor – player
The purpose of Dance Macabre was to introduce nonverbal and dancing techniques as viable in-game communication methods to the Czech larp community, and also to present some of the other interesting features of the Nordic larp-like games. For us as organizers, the experience opened up a whole new host of gameplay possibilities and taught us a valuable lesson on how to work with players who lack previous experience of some of the more novel larp concepts, as well as a lesson about the importance of the deroleing process, and the great impact of the nonverbal aspects on the emotional experience of the game. We are also happy to report that the Czech larp players seem very excited about the game concept and that we have plenty of new prospective players willing to participate in the next runs of the game, as well as old players who wish to re-visit the experience.
Dance Macabre, photo by Šárka Růžičková
One of the most important things we learned was the importance of de-roleing and the deepness of nonverbal communication, which has a great emotional impact on the player, because due to the lack of verbalization it sometimes bypasses the rational parts of the brain and influences emotions of the player directly. For me personally, Dance Macabre was also an important lesson about the differences between games played in Prague and outside of the city, about the impact of location on group dynamics and its influence on the game itself.
Additional Note
The game has now been run eight times. There had been four runs before this article was originally written (2012–2014) and four more afterwards (2016–2019). The last two runs were played in English; one of them took place in the Czech Republic with international players (2018), and the other one was made in the UK in cooperation with local players and organizers, who took care of the production and invited the game designers to run the game there (2019). Neither of the English-language runs set any gender-related rules or content in the game. Players signed up in couples consisting of one leader and one follower, and all the content focused only on the dancing roles, i.e., the same-sex relationship mentioned above became a same-dance-role relationship.
Dance Macabre
Credits: Mikuláš Bryan, Kateřina Bryanová, Kateřina Holendová, Monika Kadaňková, Pavel Mejstřík, Pavlína Mejstříková, Šárka Olehová, Jana Pouchlá, Petr Růžička, Petr Urban, Caminito.Cz, Buenos Aires Tango, Ondřej Vicenik, Van Ahn Nguyenová, Iva Vávrová
Date: 2012–2019 (eight runs in total)
Location: Praha, Vanov u Telče, Svatý Ján pod Skalou, Lipník, Zámek Veltrusy, Krasnice Czech Republic; near Cambridge, UK
Blodsband Reloaded is a Swedish larp campaign inspired by over the top post apocalyptic fiction like Fallout and Mad Max. The event is run once a year and the 2016 edition was played on 16-18 September.
The larp has a very high costuming standard with many different groups doing different concepts. One group is The Machine Dogs who are vehicle borne raiders.
Group members Sabina Sonning, Marta Hansbo and Hans Vrede took some amazing photos at the event and allowed us to publish some of them here:
I’m a larper, so that’s kind of an expected thing. But this wasn’t just any larp experience: this was New World Magischola, a Nordic-inspired game on American soil. Like many Americans who participated in the game, I was equal parts excited and intimidated.
I knew I’d have a once-in-a-lifetime experience, but I wasn’t prepared for the loving and supporting community that would stick with me weeks after the event.
This article describes how I felt about my experience as someone who comes from an American campaign boffer fantasy larp background.
My Background as a Larper
I’ve been participating in live action role playing games for about eight years. I entered the hobby when I attended a PvP (player vs. player) boffer larp called Vanguard (initially Portal II), the sequel to a popular game located in South Jersey in the Northeastern United States.
After sampling a few other games in similar play style, I joined the staff of Seventh Kingdom IGE to handle the out-of-game responsibility of marketing for the first few years of its run. I marketed the game as more immersive((In a US context immersion usually means something external to the player, what is more often called 360 degree illusion in the Nordic countries. Immersion is mostly understood to be an internal state in the Nordic traditions.)) than other local games. I still play there as a PC (player character).
Years later, I began attending larps in other genres, such as the sci-fi Mercenaries of the Galactic Frontier Campaign in the Mystic Realms Multiverse, as well as games within the fantasy genre. Most significantly, I began larping at conventions and played freeform games such as those in #Feminism: A Nano-Games Anthology.
As I started to expand my interest in larps beyond those played primarily in my region, I felt and acted upon a strong desire to blend the styles. When I started attending Double Exposure events and played in This Miracle, a freeform larp by Lizzie Stark and Nick Fortugno focusing on religion and rituals, I asked the other players for permission to take back one of the rituals we’d created and use it as a ritual to an existing god at my home larp.
When I portrayed my established character in the ritual setting, I brought a more aggressive character and play style more commonly used in American fantasy boffer combat games. It’s my hope that both games benefited from this blend and small exchange, and it’s this satisfaction in doing so that led me to snag a ticket for New World Magischola.
New World Magischola is a larp all about attending college as a wizard. It relies on North American lore and traditions and is inspired by the massively successful College of Wizardry, which is run in a castle in Poland.
My Goals at New World Magischola
Nordic larpers played alongside American larpers at New World Magischola
Having experienced immersion and bleed((Bleed is when emotions bleed over between player or character, in either direction.)) at my regular game, I looked for an enhanced version of this experience at New World Magischola. So often, American larpers in my region see bleed primarily as a negative consequence of immersion and over-committed role-play, but I enjoy it as a way to learn more about an aspect of myself.
After I got to know the experienced role-players I’d interact with at New World Magischola via online conversations and Google Hangout sessions prior to the game, I let them know that I was going for some emotionally driven roleplay centered around certain themes.
This type of play is far from impossible to obtain at my usual fantasy games, I should note – one time I experienced missing someone in character and found the scene a cathartic way for me and others to process the real life sudden loss of a beloved member of our larp community. While this type of play is hesitantly accepted in my usual larp community, it is not the norm. Additionally, other real-life societal expectations sometimes endure in the community. For example, the community may more readily accept a woman crying than a man.
Goal 1: Immersion
“Full immersion is dangerous,” one of my friends had told me previously. And he has a point: if you become the character to the point of losing track of the rules in a game involving combat or if you fail to recognize safety words and others’ triggers, immersion could be very dangerous. However, internalizing rules systems – no matter the complexity – has been a safe, useful strategy for me in the past. (This does require either a pre-existing familiarity of the rules system or a game without too many rules).
Having some experience with immersion, feeling comfortable with other participants, and trusting in the organizers, I decided to play as immersively as possible, even opting for an in-game sleeping space. (At New World Magischola, dorm rooms are considered off-game by default.)
The character I played at New World Magischola — Minerva — was stern and often angry. She was rarely effusive with positive emotions. This is a stringent contrast to My Seventh Kingdom IGE character (Ceara) – she’s one of the bubblier characters in game. Minerva hid her expressive vocal talent; Ceara thrives on self-expression. I wanted to play a markedly different character and felt that in a Nordic-style game, my character development would be less hindered (as compared to the American fantasy setting) if I chose to play a character who wasn’t inherently happy.
In real life, I always encounter articles about finding happiness or avoiding negativity. However, life has negative moments. I need to deal with them, not shove them aside. Playing Minerva allowed me to explore this thematically and as a process in a way that the real world does not allow.
Result of Immersion at New World Magischola:
I was out-of-game for less than an hour between game on and game off. I began to feel fully immersed less than an hour into the game. I felt or actively went out of game only for:
Cut scenes (for emotional safety)
To access my phone to check in with my dog sitters
Experiencing anxiety about getting lost (I’m horrible with maps and the campus is large)
A few selfies to document my experience, which I did off-game only because I smile and my character generally doesn’t
Self-care – I had to pause and take a nap; I had to take medication
Immersion helped me expose and confront many negative behaviors – and play up qualities of myself I wish to show to the world more often. Since the game’s end, I have pursued active bleed for the following positive habits once I noticed them forming as a result of the game experience:
Reduction of negative self-talk (“I’m so stupid; I can’t figure out where to find my keys, how can I possibly do anything of significance?”)
Asking for help when I need it: I had a support network in-game. We’re in an out-of-game Facebook group together. Today I asked them for support with a trying situation and I got it.
Being myself instead of what the world expects of me: Sometimes I’m not happy, and that’s okay. Not going to fake it until I make it – I’d rather just avoid wasting my time worrying about the approval of people who don’t matter.
Creative problem-solving: I often feel a loss of control when there is no immediate answer to the problem. How can I use the resources I have to work around that helplessness?
Only apologize when necessary: Apologies are more meaningful when they are rare and reserved for sincerity. I’m not going to apologize to someone if they’re standing in my way or talking over me – but I will apologize if I stand in their way or talk over them.
Respect for proper pronouns: As an editor of subject matter in different fields and subcultures, I can make an active impact regarding this change. I will not wait for a style book to change the way “they” is used. I’ll just make the change. Small policy, large impact.
When the game ended, the debriefing materials and counselors asked us to focus on what we’d like to take away and what we’d like to leave behind. I was surprised to find that I wanted to take away so many things.
Goal 2: Explore Minerva’s Themes: Grief and Loyalty
Having had a positive, cathartic experience exploring grief among trusted friends at a fantasy game, I elected to explore the topic again here. In everyday life, I feel a pressure to “be strong,” especially since other women in geek culture have confessed to looking at me as an influencer.
However, I understand that being strong also means being real about strong emotions and coping with them. New World Magischola provided me with an opportunity to explore and resolve issues that were holding me back.
Grief
I miss my grandfather a lot. He passed away in 2014. When I received my character sheet for New World Magischola, I noticed that her grandfather was a mundane country musician. When I later had the opportunity to request a scene, I asked that the grandfather’s ghost come to find Minerva at school.
I noted on the request form that I was going for some closure and intentional bleed here to keep all parties informed for emotional safety. I was confident that the people handling this would have good judgment, and they did.
The scene created was extremely touching. My character sang to her grandfather and the scene pushed her to accept and process her emotions more readily. I’m extremely grateful to those who helped with the scene, knowing what it meant, and that no one questioned my ability to determine what level of intentional bleed was appropriate for me.
This scene was part of the reason I felt so much peace after I came home from game.
Some people, even in the larp scene, find this whole experience weird or think that bleed is only something negative. While I’ve experienced negative effects of bleed, I more commonly utilize it as a very powerful tool for self-discovery and self-improvement. However, I struggle with a lack of validation for that strategy in my usual larp scene.
Loyalty
I enjoy being valued. Unfortunately, this can manifest in negative attention-seeking behaviors in the real world, like wanting to be noticed by people who mean to harm or manipulate me and others. I used the game as an opportunity to explore loyalty to an entire group of people (my character’s House).
Although Minerva had more personal connections with some than others (and although some of those people weren’t necessarily doing things for the good of the world), this was a much healthier way for my character (and myself) to seek positive reinforcement, approval, and loyalty.. As Minerva, I was able to turn that constant approval into positive actions, like making new spells or mentoring a new House initiate with confidence.
This process is an exemplary one for me to internalize. I don’t want to waste energy on the wrong people, but there are some people in my life who deserve my loyalty. Roleplaying Minerva helped me learn how to differentiate between the two.
Both Minerva and Ceara are extremely loyal characters. This is one of the more rewarding traits for me to play and makes me feel like I can seek and give approval to others in both settings in an emotionally healthy way.
Exploring a World Without ‘-isms’
The week before I went to New World Magischola, my website about women in geek culture was hacked. This happened as my site hosted a series of panels about women in geek culture, representation in films, and communities of color and safe spaces at Wizard World Philly, an annual fan convention in Philadelphia.
The hack may or may not have been coincidental, but the effects were very real: I felt angry, unsafe, and, defeated.
Going into the game, especially after this, was the challenge of playing in a world without “isms.” I’m white, cisgender, and heterosexual, and I’m aware that I likely project many microaggressions unintentionally towards marginalized people.
Additionally, as illustrated by the website hack example, I feel disadvantaged as a woman living in a patriarchal society. I wasn’t sure how I could even begin to pretend to live in something else, so I made it a personal challenge to recognize equality as part of the Magimundi: the magical world in New World Magischola.
I was somewhat accustomed to this in my home larp as my character represents a “might makes right” society. While power matters more than gender in the game setting and the real-world game culture, there are still occasionally some gender dynamics in play (and I willfully explore some of those in-game relationships).
Without the existence of sexism holding me (the player) back at New World Magischola, I found that my character did not question herself very often, and that other characters challenged her on ideas and associations rather than physical characteristics, appearance, or clothing.
Being Perceived as Capable
Minerva was seen as capable as most others in the world because the roleplay mattered more than a preconceived notion of what it meant to be “able.” While I do suffer from chronic pain, it’s usually not visible. I am, however, short in height and frequently talked over by men. Yet within the world, I did not experience this negativity and I was not held back by it.
From a place of privilege, I also found it immersively easier to think person-first: “they’re a Marshal” or “she’s a member of Dan Obeah” versus seeing differences and disabilities as a primary identifying characteristic. It’s not about defining someone else, but being very aware of how they prefer to be identified and defined (or not). It’s important to recognize how someone else wants to be thought of: is this part of who they are? Do they identify this way as a primary means of definition? New World Magischolacaused me to think about these things and have enlightening conversations about them later.
The game world is all about what you can do, not your real or perceived limitations – and your abilities are based on magical prowess and how you interact with the world, not a character sheet with hit points and skills.
I found my real-world biases exposed and as a result, I commit to fighting them post-game.
I also wish to note that the players of the game did explore themes of inclusion allegorically. I made the choice to downplay my character’s biases in certain instances, especially following the recent shooting in Orlando. As my character felt especially close to a vampire hater, I learned that sometimes hate originates from a pain in someone who feels they can’t be healed.
The most significant adjustments I had to make in going from an American fantasy campaign boffer larp to New World Magischolainvolved game format and timing. In most of the games I’ve played, the climax of the story occurs towards the end of the game in a “main mod,” during which the main characters and their NPC (non-player character) allies take on the big bad villain of the month.
What Is a Larp Module?
Modules, or “mods.” typically involve planned scenes during which PCs are presented with opportunities to interact with NPCs and environments in a battle and/or roleplay context. An example: a known friendly NPC acts as a “hook,” asking for adventurers to help him get to another location safely. On the way, the group is attacked by waiting monsters (NPCs). While this is typical of American fantasy campaign style, mods can involve only two people and a high level of emotional intensity. The “main mod” is typically inclusive of the entire group and may involve grand melee combat.
At a game like New World Magischola, this isn’t necessarily the case. The big event at the end is the formal ball. Like classes and meals, it’s built into the schedule of the game. It’s a protected space with wards, so nothing bad can happen there; I got the impression from some College of Wizardry veterans that you should even have your plot wrapped up before the ball.
Emotionally, I was pleasantly surprised at the way the event worked for me and some members of my character’s House. The game got more emotional for me over time. At one point, my character was upset and there were tears. One of the counselors (who are brilliantly counselors in game, but will also talk to you out of game if necessary) came over to check on me. In the last twenty minutes of the game, I managed to wrap up my plot in a way that prevented too much negative bleed.
Competition: Playing to Win, Playing to Lose, and the “Magic” Combination
It’s often assumed that:
American larpers play to win: competitive play in which the game can be “won;”
Nordic larpers play to lose: making choices to create the most interesting or moving scene even if that has negative consequences for their character.
While I love competitive elements, I’ve also seen them create a destructive or win-focused environment in some games and gaming cultures.
At New World Magischola, much of the in-game competition was enhanced by personal rivalry. This especially makes sense due to the elaborate pre-game relationship building some wished to partake in.
In both gaming environments, I have noticed in-game competition taken a little too far — teasing on Facebook about one culture or House being better than another, chants disparaging one group instead of simply promoting one’s own. Overall, I felt like the spirit at New World Magischolawas more welcoming, but that could also be due to a “grass is always greener” or honeymoon effect.
Immersion was prevalent in both styles, though I found myself more frequently and more fully immersed in the Nordic style game. This was due to several reasons:
I didn’t have to do math to think about how many hit points I had
The setting, while magical, was modern, so things like “mundane cars” didn’t have to be “dragons”
Most out-of-game communication took place before the game, very briefly, or through non-invasive hand signals (as opposed to narration or describing things that weren’t actually there)
Immersion Versus Playing to Lose
That said, I didn’t embrace “play to lose” as much as some Nordic style gamers do. This is because of immersion. I was always conscious of safety and ensuring others’ comfort as players, but I wasn’t thinking “what will make a more interesting story?” or even “what would my character do?” Instead, I had chosen to play a reactive character and I did.
In retrospect, there were things I could have done to make more interesting scenes. There were also actions other players took to ensure better scenes for me, but for the most part, I’m glad I stuck to simply being my character and setting her up in a way that encouraged kindness to other players, involving others (not hoarding information), and dramatic, decisive involvement.
What Others Said: Too Nordic or Not Nordic Enough?
I have not played a larp in Europe, but I did hear some College of Wizardry vets describe some differences between the two games. I got the impression that there is less hand-holding at College of Wizardry and less attention to various sensitivities.
As a player, safety is important to me. I need to feel physically and emotionally safe before I can experience immersion, and the rules set in place at New World Magischola made that possible.
Effects of Bleed: Expected and Unexpected
Having experienced bleed before in campaign games, I did expect some lasting effects. I’ve had players treat me poorly because they did not agree with or understand something my character did. Some of them did this unintentionally or they would simply not admit to bleed — since it’s such a forbidden thing in some American larp.
I found that the intentional bleed I sought at New World Magischolawas there and it was transformative. Weeks later, I feel like I really dove into the grieving process and gave myself closure by experiencing grief in game.
What I did not expect was such a strong bond with the other players. Prior to the game, I’d been going through a great deal of personal difficulty and hadn’t been able to connect with other players to the degree I’d wanted, mostly due to real world strain and time limitations. Plus, I thought I’d only be playing this character for a few days: why was it worth it to invest so much time and money into character creation and relationships?
As I mentioned previously, I did spend time on Google Hangouts with the players of my character’s House presidents and other members of our House before game. I was pretty comfortable with everyone in the Hangouts, so this made me able to hop right into character once we were in game.
They seemed like cool people and once we started talking about character development, I could tell that they were all very talented and creative.
What I was not expecting was the out-of-game attachment I’d feel to other players I interacted with in-game. It’s been more than a week since the game has ended and it feels really weird if I don’t talk to the player of my character’s roommate every other day or so.
There’s also the shared experience: it helps me to know that other people miss me. I feel very validated in all of my emotions and actions surrounding the game.
I did find that my return to “normal life” happened a bit faster than that of others. This was likely due to:
Short travel time (6 hours) and little time spent “in transit” (airports, etc.)
Formal and informal debriefing following the game
Immediate return to work
My own expectations for intentional bleed
Being accustomed to returning to work immediately after an intense RP weekend
The need to remain connected with other players was so intense it was surprising. I found that others in the community were experiencing similar feelings, and once I realized that my feelings were typical for the experience, I accepted them. Now I have New World Magischolafriends I’ve already seen in person again and many more that I speak to on Facebook regularly. Aside from the positive bleed (particularly less negative self-talk) I took away from the game, my new friends are the greatest benefit of having played in this community.
Blending Traditions: Reconciliation and Deliberate Infusions
Moving forward, I’m prepared to blend styles as much as existing games will allow. I find the “main mod” in campaign larps irresistible — but in Nordic style games, players are empowered to create plot themselves. Having emotional scenes at the end of the New World Magischola game was a highlight for me. There’s no reason I couldn’t have also had a big duel as well.
I have to accept the fact that there isn’t a big finale, necessarily, in the Nordic style, but that doesn’t mean I can’t work within the format to create something satisfying for myself and others.
Player empowerment is something I want to bring back with me into Seventh Kingdom. As I play a character in a leadership position, I’m already empowered and expected to do some things for the players and characters in my group. While I don’t want to push the limits of what I’m permitted to do — there’s no making up spells on the fly when there’s a 300 page rulebook — I realize that I can create customs and traditions for my character’s kingdom, get them staff approved if necessary, and run rituals and other events within the player group.
During a run of This Miracle at Dreamation in 2014, I wasn’t sure about freeform and Nordic style games. It felt more comfortable for me to play a familiar character, so I played Ceara from Seventh Kingdom. There were not too many character limitations and playing a developed character seemed to help other players as well.
During the game, we created rituals together. One of the rituals we created reminded my character very much of her culture in Seventh Kingdom. With the players’ permission, I took the ritual back to my home larp and involved them in it at the game. The ritual helped to engage new players by providing them with something to do. In this way, I’ve been blending games and styles naturally and the biggest benefits are:
How increasingly comfortable I become in multiple styles
How I provide engaging content that helps other players and enhances the storylines of other characters.
Financial Privilege and Accessibility
Prior to playing New World Magischola, I had been a bit put off by some players in the Nordic scene. While I was open-minded, some of them didn’t believe that I had achieved immersion in “just a boffer larp.” That’s hurtful, because I’m proud of the intense roleplay that happens at Seventh Kingdom and I work very hard as a player to foster that aspect of the culture at the larp.
Additionally, there are comments like “you need to play a game in Europe.” That implies a lot of financial privilege. Like most American larpers, I can’t simply afford to fly to Poland on a whim and play in a castle (even though I would love to play College of Wizardry). At best, for most campaign larpers, that would involve sacrificing their home game for a once per year experience. And when your social community revolves around larp and you enjoy larp, that’s a depressing thought.
Attending New World Magischola was a privilege for me. I made sacrifices to go, as did other members of my household. I’m eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner this week because I wanted to have the right props for the game two weeks ago. That’s not the worst thing ever, but it goes to show that not everyone can easily afford to attend. I was only able to go because I snagged a lightning round ticket during the New World Magischola Kickstarter.
It was worth the equivalent of copay for 19 sessions of therapy that it cost, and was at least as cathartic, providing me with a vehicle for self-affirmation, inclusion, and positivity supported by a loving community.
House Maison DuBois.
American Larpers: A Note on Superiority, Elitism, and Guilt
New World Magischola fell on the same weekend of my beloved Seventh Kingdom IGE. I had no small amount of guilt over heading to another game instead of one I’ve played every month (with one exception, when I was in a car accident) for years.
I lessened this guilt by taking the opportunity to make sure my kingdom group at Seventh Kingdom had everything they needed, to send in my monthly reports and character letters, and to let the game’s staff know I wouldn’t be around.
I had major FOMO (fear of missing out) regarding Seventh Kingdom the whole way down to New World Magischola. By the time the game was over, I was so overtaken with the immersive experience and intentional bleed of New World Magischola that I didn’t even think about Seventh Kingdom until my friend asked – and then I checked the phone to make sure my kingdom still existed in the game and that the king still lived!
The general perception in some international larp communities is that American fantasy boffer larping is pretty low-brow and that Nordic larp experiences are intense, emotional, have less rules, and therefore better. Following New World Magischola, players originating from both styles admitted to these perceptions on Facebook and confessed concern and regret over how it could have affected their play. Most had positive experiences and were so grateful to find that the stereotypes were not entirely true.
Coming back from my first large-scale Nordic-style game and going back to my core group of friends who larp here, I wasn’t sure how to discuss my experiences with them. It was clear I had fallen in love with the new game and the play style; I harbored guilt that I developed a familial relationship in three days akin to one that had taken three years to develop in a campaign setting. This also extended to my non-larp geek friends. “You had to be there” doesn’t sound welcoming. I’m still trying to think of a way to express my appreciation for both styles without sounding superior in either social group.
I tried discussing my experiences with a few close friends from the American larp scene. I called Seventh Kingdom a “boffer game” like Nordic larpers do and got an immediate scowl from my friend. I see myself as continuing to enjoy both styles, but expecting different things out of them:
Games like Seventh Kingdom let you work over time to earn big achievements, which is extremely rewarding. You can’t just “make yourself” a diplomat in that game, but there are avenues to earn it, for example. I like having to earn something over time.
The triumphant feeling of fighting “the Big Bad” at the main mod at the end of the game is exhilarating. I prefer this format of action.
Less rules (like at New World Magischola) promotes immersion and prevents rules lawyering.
Relationship-building is a crucial aspect of both types of games, so long as they involve collaborative storytelling.
Open discussion of bleed, lack of shame, and the unabashed acceptance of the game culture at New World Magischola is refreshing. It’s more than a honeymoon phase, but the fact that it’s new to me only enhances my feelings.
I’m not going to hide the fact that New World Magischola made me a better larper and a stronger, more confident, and more empathetic person. I want to carry those positive traits over to all of my larping experiences.
Recommendations for American Larpers
American larpers attending Nordic games in general and New World Magischola in particular should keep the following in mind:
You won’t get accused of being a “special snowflake.” Make a scene request. Enhance a scene. Do something dramatic. It only makes the collaborative storytelling experience better.
Some preplanned relationships and player interaction helps, especially if you want to feel more comfortable. There’s no need to put an excessive amount of time into it, though. You can do this online, but connecting in person and at the workshops at the beginning of the game is especially recommended.
Wear or do something iconic that is specific only to your character. For me, it was a hat.
In some scenes, you’re a supporting character. In other scenes, you’re the star.
If you need help improvising or can’t figure out a solution to something, ask in-character. Minerva asked her mentor and professors for help with a spell, which made sense in game.
These experiences and comparisons are only mine. Given their own backgrounds and individual larp experiences, each player will have different feelings regarding what it’s like to play at New World Magischola. For me, the game was an unforgettable, life-changing, shared experience.
In the American games I play in the northeastern U.S., admitting to bleed comes with a stigma. At New World Magischola, it comes with the territory. I’d like to see American games adapt a healthier mentality here: it potentially makes role-play and combat more meaningful. New World Magischola wasn’t afraid of empowering players to affect the game world; I’d love to see some of these restrictions similarly lifted in American games. Some do that to a degree — at Seventh Kingdom IGE, characters are encouraged to spend “patronage points” to influence politics behind the scenes. More of that, maybe not dependent on mechanics, would benefit these games.
At New World Magischola, people were focused on the experience. We were told there is no “world plot” like there often is in American games, and there was no guaranteed awesome “main mod” moment towards the end of the game. New World Magischola could meet more American larpers’ expectations by making a slight adaptation to them. The announcement of the house cup winners did provide some closure to the event and players seemed to understand that it was important to tie up plots if possible, but a final, definitive and dramatic surprise scene involving combat might have improved the closure.
Going forward, I aim to willfully contribute to the blending of these styles, especially as games and systems allow. As long as safety is considered, I’m not going to hold back the emotional depth of my roleplay at American games; as long as there is the opportunity to create more final and decisive action, I’ll work on initiating larger scenes in Nordic style games.
My combined experiences in multiple styles and my interactions with game designers have inspired me to pursue larp development. In all styles I’ve experienced, I’ve witnessed sincere community development largely aimed at supporting and caring for other players and the game. I’m inspired – and if I can provide this to others even for a few hours, I will be able to make a positive contribution to the larp community which has changed me for the better.
Cover photo: Wizards posing for a photo before the student ball (play, courtesy of Learn Larp LLC). All other photos used with permission from Learn Larp LLC.
New World Magischola
Date: June 16-19, June 23-26, July 21-24 and July 28-31, 2016
Location: University of Richmond in Richmond, Virginia, United States
Duration: 4 days including workshops, play, and debriefing
Participants: 140-165 per run
Participation Fee: $375 to $895, $450 for a regular ticket
Producers: Maury Brown and Ben Morrow, Learn Larp LLC.
Make-up Lead: Katherine Kira “Tall Kat” McConnell. Prosthetics by Mark Mensch
Costuming Lead: Derek Herrera.
Stitchers: Jenny Underwood, Robin Jendryaszek, Jennifer WinterRose, Amber Feldman, Summer Donovan, Michele Mountain, Nancy Calvert-Warren, Jennifer Klettke, Kristen Moutry, Caryn Johnson, Datura Matel
Music: Original songs (lyrics and music) by Austin Nuckols (Maison DuBois, Lakay Laveau, Casa Calisaylá and House Croatan) and Leah K. Blue (Dan Obeah), lyrics to New World Magischola Anthem by Maury Brown and Ben Morrow, music by Austin Nuckols. Other music and sound by Evan Torner and Austin Shepherd
Props: Mike Young, Carrie Matteoli, Indiana Thomas, Summer Donovan, Kevin Donovan, Gordon Olmstead-Dean, Jason Morningstar, Matt Taylor, Molly Ellen Miller, Michael Boyd, Moira Parham, Martin John Manco, Ken Brown, Dale, Laura Young, Harry Lewis, Mark Daniels, Michael Pucci, Terry Smith of Stagecoach Theater Productions, Yvonne and Dirk Parham, Jen Wong, Caryn Johnson, Jess Pestlin, Orli Nativ, Kaitlin Smith, The Center for the Arts of Greater Manassas at the Candy Factory, Melissa Danielle Penner, Jess Sole, Liselle Awwal, Nathan Love.
Helpers and advisors: Anders Berner, Claus Raasted, Christopher Sandberg, Mike Pohjola, Bjarke Pedersen, Johanna Koljonen, Anne Serup Grove, Mikolaj Wicher, Jamie MacDonald, Eevi Korhonen, Markus Montola, Jaakko Stenros, Staffan Rosenberg, Anna Westerling, Michael Pucci, Ashley Zdeb, Emily Care Boss, Daniel Hocutt, Charles Bo Nielsen, Joe Ennis, Kristin Bezio, Rob Balder, Kat Jones, Sarah Lynne Bowman, Harrison Greene.
Assistance with writing, editing, graphic design, music, art: Frank Beres, Claus Raasted, Richard Wetzel, Bethy Winkopp, Oriana Almquist, Craig Anderson, Zach Shaffer, Erica Schoonmaker, Madeleine Wodjak, Toivo Voll, Marie DelRio, Mike Young, Laura Young, Anna Yardney, Lee Parmenter, Stephanie Simmons, Nancy Calvert-Warren, Jessica Acker, Jason Woodland, Jason Arne, Harrison Greene, Sarah Lynne Bowman, Kristi Kalis, Quinn Milton, Anna Kovatcheva, Browning Porter, Orli Nativ, Rhiannon Chiacchiaro, Miranda Chadbourne, Lars Bundvad, Ffion Evans, David Horsh, Dani Castillo, Frank Caffran Castillo, Dayna Lanza, Sarah Brand, Tara Clapper, Suzy Pop, David Neubauer, Chris Bergstresser, Jason Morningstar, Evan Torner, Peter Woodworth, Peter Svensson, Daniel Abraham, Harry Lewis, Alexis Moisand, Alissa Erin Murray, Jennifer Klettke, Kathryn Sarah, Elsa Sjunneson-Henry, Austin Nuckols, Leah Blue, Joelle Scarnati, Dan Luxenberg, Chad Brinkley, David Clements, Niels Ull Harremoës, Adria Kyne, Emily Heflin.
Production and logistics: Austin Shepherd, Claus Raasted, Olivia Anderson, Kristin Bezio, Shayna Alley, Mike Young, Zach Shaffer, Dayna Lanza, Derek Herrera, Kristin Moutrey, Jenny Underwood, Jennifer WinterRose, Caryn Johnson, Amber Feldman, Michele Mountain, Summer Donovan, Robin Jendryaszek, Jennifer Klettke, Datura Metel, Amanda Schoen, Mark Mensch, Katherine McConnell, Chris Bergstresser, Christopher Amherst, Holly Butterfield, Uriah Brown, Kyle Lian, Evan Torner, Jeff Moxley, Ashley Zdeb, Thomas Haynes, Mikolaj Wicher, David Donaldson, Brandy Dilworth and the staff of the University of Richmond Summer Conference Services office.
The desperation of tomorrow fuels the joy of today. Self-destructive choices don’t seem so bad when there’s no future.
from the End of the Line introduction document
End of the Line is the first official Nordic larp under the One World of Darkness produced by White Wolf and Odyssé since the intellectual property was purchased by Paradox Entertainment in October 2015. While the owner Tobias Andersson Sjogren and creative lead Martin Elricsson have announced that they do not plan to alter significantly most of the existing games or associated production companies, they do plan to create a One World of Darkness under which all of the existing content falls.((UlissesSpiele, “Tenebrae Noctis: White Wolf – One World of Darkness (uncut, audio repaired),” YouTube, last modified Dec. 15, 2015, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LlA6LKUNDWs&list=PLYW0RCU4vh23ZoQC26d8D0O-zvMDrGlQn)) Additionally, they plan to run Nordic-style larp events, which differ significantly from the way traditional Vampire larps are played. These larps are meant to exist in addition to the other larp experiences available, rather than replace them or compete with them in any way. This article will cover the first larp from these official events, entitled End of the Line, which took place in Helsinki, Finland on March 7, 2016 for six hours.((Jussi Ahlroth, “Blood and Close Contact in Illegal Raves — Vampire Larp Played in Helsinki,” HS, last modified Mar. 9, 2016, http://www.hs.fi/kulttuuri/a1457497605103#)) Bjarke Pedersen, Juhana Pettersson, and Martin Elricsson created the larp, running it in the week leading up to the Nordic larp conference, Solmukohta.
Martin Elricsson, Lead Storyteller for White Wolf. Photo by Tuomas Puikkonen.
End of the Line took place in an abandoned mental asylum in central Helsinki.((For a complete photo album, see Tuomas Puikkonen, “End of the Line (larp),” Flicker, last accessed Mar. 17, 2016, https://www.flickr.com/photos/darkismus/sets/72157665084152550)) While the main building was used for briefings, preparation, and off-game facilities, the play space was a multi-storiedbuilding off to the side of the hospital that recently housed squatters. The organizers and volunteers spent a considerable amount of time preparing the space for play, making it relatively clean and safe considering its recent inhabitants. Bonuses of the space included an abundance of gorgeous graffiti and an upstairs loft, which the organizers turned into a rave club. This rave felt authentic thanks to ongoing music provided by the Suicide Club, as well as fantastic lighting, visuals, and scenography by Marcus Engstrand, Anders Davén, and Aleksander Nikulin.
Lighting, Sound, and Scenography
Lighting and sound were integrated into the larp design. The first and last fifteen minutes of the larp were spent in a communal rave “workshop,” in which we all slowly glided in- and out-of-character through dance. This technique proved especially useful in enhancing the visceral physicality that was central to the intention of the larp, as discussed in more detail below; we were encouraged from the beginning to inhabit our bodies rather than view the larp as an intellectual or strategic experience. While many of us admitted to feeling uncomfortable dancing under normal circumstances, our characters regularly frequented these types of underground raves. Therefore, the technique helped put us in the mindset of a group of lowlifes coming together for a shared, not-quite-legal experience.
The Suicide Club kept the dance party going throughout the larp. Photo by Tuomas Puikkonen.
In terms of the lighting, the larp was organized in three acts according to colors, which each represented a specific theme. Red represented Lust/Passion, Green represented Selfishness/Envy, and Blue represented Control/Power. As we transitioned into these phases, which all lasted 1.5-2 hours, we were encouraged to direct our play toward these general themes. However, the colors themselves were only visible from the dance floor, which made it difficult to assess when the themes were active without revisiting the upstairs. Still, having a general idea of the narrative arc toward which we should push helped guide play.
Color was also used in the three meta rooms, sometimes called blackbox rooms in the Nordic scene. As with the Acts, the three rooms were themed and colored Red, Green, and Blue. In these rooms, players could enact flashbacks or hypothetical futures, although we could use the rooms for whatever we chose. In practice, this ambiguity led to some confusion as to whether or not scenes happening in these rooms were transpiring in real time, especially since the Red room featured an eye level hole in the wall through which players could watch. Despite this ambiguity, having experienced both the Red and Green rooms, the themes definitely contributed to the types of play enacted within them.
Traditional Vampire Themes, Setting, and Mechanics
Outdoor shot of the location of the larp, which took place at an abandoned asylum in Helsinki, Finland. The Blue, Green, and Red rooms are visible. Photo by Tuomas Puikkonen.
This larp was functionally different than any Vampire game I have played in the past. As an active participant in both Mind’s Eye Society and troupe games from approx. 1997 to 2010, as well as a researcher who has studied conflict and bleed in White Wolf games, I found this larp appealing to try precisely because we would experience events differently.((Sarah Lynne Bowman, “Social Conflict in Role-playing Communities: An Exploratory Qualitative Study,” International Journal of Role-Playing 4, 2013, pp.17-18. http://www.ijrp.subcultures.nl/wp-content/issue4/IJRPissue4bowman.pdf)) Below is a breakdown of the primary differences I noticed in the design and play of this larp as opposed to traditional Camarilla-based Vampire games.
Most Vampire games center upon the events during and surrounding the vampiric court. The premise of the game is that a secret cadre of immortal creatures who feed on human blood are running the city through a variety of forms of influence, both supernatural and social. For example, a vampire may have control over the Opera House because they have used their supernatural powers to make the owner fall in love with them, which affords them a certain amount of Influence. Similarly, a vampire may have control over a gang in the area or own an underground club where other denizens of the World of Darkness frequent for feeding, seduction, or secret meetings. In general, very few of the humans involved in these exchanges have any idea that vampires exist, as they might become angry and hunt them. Thus, vampires must remain secret and preserve a concept called The Masquerade in order to pretend to be human and avoid detection. Court is one of the only places where vampires can openly show their nature, although they are expected to follow certain social conventions that resemble Renaissance courtier politics as described in Machiavelli’s The Prince. Breaches of the Masquerade are kept to a minimum, as they may result in punishment or death by the reigning ruler.
A Ventrue and another vampire consult one another in a private corner. Photo by Tuomas Hakkarainen.
Since the majority of play happens at court, while gaining these forms of external Influence may take place through role-play, they are represented most often through mechanical abstractions on a character sheet, e.g. Street 2, High Society 1, Herd 3, etc. Players can use these types of Influence to enact some sort of advantage through interaction with the Storyteller. For example, vampires generally attend court having fed upon humans beforehand, which may be represented by their scores in Herd, Manipulation, or Seduction. Feeding allows some mechanical advantages in terms of use of powers, while lack of feeding can lead to dire consequences in terms of loss of control of the beastial nature of the vampire character. In other words, some vampires have an inherent advantage over others in the seductive feeding part of the game, whereas other characters may excel at having Street level contacts that give them access to drugs, gangs, or information that may become useful in play. As mentioned before, this Influence system usually comes into play most often during downtime actions between games or while interacting with a plot through the Storyteller. For example, a player might ask, “I have Street 2. Do I know anyone involved in this gang associated with this plot?” The Storyteller may choose to embody that non player-character (NPC) briefly or simply deliver information gained from that Influence.
While influence actions often take place during downtime in conventional Vampire larps, the players embodied interactions between vampires, street thugs, and feeding victims during End of the Line. Photo by Tuomas Hakkarainen.
Similarly, all sexual, violent, or supernatural activities generally take place off-game or through mechanical interventions such as rock-paper-scissors. For example, if a character tries to seduce another, they may role-play out the dialogue leading up to the attempt, then use rock-paper-scissors to resolve whether or not the seduction was successful. Depending on the comfort level of the participants, they may verbally describe what follows or “fade to black,” but actual physical touch is discouraged in violent, sexual, or supernatural contexts. Players may mime the feeding of blood, but are not encouraged to actually bite one another. A character may direct a slow punch toward another character for dramatic effect, but these actions are rarely meant to feel or look real. Indeed, in the official larp rules for the game, the writers imposed a no-touch rule from the beginning. This rule served many purposes, notably making players feel more comfortable engaging in edgy content and reassuring mainstream authorities that no “real” feeding, sex, or violence was occurring. Depending of the comfort level of the play group, these rules are sometimes bent, but the larp system as is features a large amount of abstracted rules to arbitrate these activities. For example, if combat breaks out in a group with several characters present, each person in the area must declare their actions, which can sometimes take hours to resolve due to the multiple tests involved.
End of the Line flipped the script on traditional Vampire role-playing in many ways, at least as represented by the official rules. Instead of taking place at court surrounded by vampires, the game setting was an underground party. I should note that some Vampire larps do take place in semi-public settings such as nightclubs amongst non-larpers where characters attempt to maintain the Masquerade. Thus, this article should be viewed through my experience with these games, which overwhelmingly took place in private homes or reserved public spaces and focused upon court politics.
In short, my experience of End of the Line was that we role-played out the activities usually handled before game or through game mechanics. As mortals, we embodied those Street and Herd contacts normally represented numerically or briefly embodied as NPCs by Storytellers. We physically played out biting, seduction, brawl, drug use, and partying. While some Camarilla politics took place behind the scenes – Ventrue, Brujah, Toreador, and Malkavians were present – I was able to play the larp as a mortal mostly unaware of these secret conversations and fully feel engaged. Another theme was that at various points of the larp, each of us would feel equally predator and prey. For my character, at least, I felt quite empowered as my drug dealer hipster mortal; sometimes, I was the seductress or corrupter rather than the prey, as was written into my character.
Vampiric feeding and Discipline use sometimes took place in the open, despite the Masquerade rule. Photo by Tuomas Puikkonen.
To clear up potential miscommunication from the outset, no real blood drinking or drug use was present in this larp. Fake drugs consisted of sugar and calcium pills. Fake blood was made of water, powdered sugar, cocoa powder, cornstarch, and red dye. Alcohol was served in small amounts. No fake guns or knives were permitted. Physical fights were permitted with negotiation of intensity, but fighting in general was discouraged in order to preserve the “all is love” rave atmosphere. Sexuality was negotiated ahead of time and was represented by activities ranging from verbal descriptions to dry humping and making out. Players could bite one another, but should do so slowly with clear visual signs of advance facing the front of their victim. Players could tap out of any scene that made them feel uncomfortable.
Themes, Setting, and Mechanics
In End of the Line, the activities that are usually relegated to mechanical representations were enacted physically. The larp did feature some mechanics – actually, a large amount by Nordic standards – but those mechanics often involved physicality. One of Martin Elricsson’s goals in introducing the Nordic style of larp to the larger White Wolf community was to steer away from the “talking heads” larps. In other words, one goal of End of the Line was “show, don’t tell.” Thus, the mechanics were designed as guides toward enacting the physical aspects of play in a consensual way agreed upon by the group, as well as means to conceptualize the character’s goals and typical behaviors. Also, the game featured pre-written characters, which is not usual for Vampire campaign play, but sometimes happens in traditional convention one-shots. Players were asked to fill out a short questionnaire on the type of play desired, as well as email a picture for casting to the organizers. Characters were given at least three ties with other characters and at least two larger subcultural groups to which they belonged.
A millionaire hanger-on; my character’s girlfriend; me as drug dealer and party organizer Carolina Kaita; and my in-game best friend. All three ties in my character sheet worked well for me in the larp. Photo by Tuomas Puikkonen.
Some additional descriptions of the themes and mechanics present in End of the Line:
Play for What Is Interesting
Vampire is promoted as “a game of personal horror” that explores the trauma of losing one’s humanity to one’s increasingly beastial nature. However, because the mechanics of the game are focused upon leveling and win conditions for challenges, play often becomes more about what has colloquially been called “superheroes with fangs.” White Wolf designers such as Eddy Webb have encouraged the concept of Playing to Lose,((Onyx Path Publishing, “Playing to Lose — Atlanta By Night 2012,” YouTube, last modified Dec. 3, 2012, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hrkGTnYjbuM)) in which allowing your character to have some sort of failure can lead to more dramatic scenes, although the impact of long-term play and character investment sometimes make this style of play difficult. Nordic larps, on the other hand, often feature one-shot, intensely immersive experiences where Playing to Lose((“Playing to Lose,” Nordiclarp.org, last modified on May 29, 2014, http://nordiclarp.org/wiki/Playing_to_Lose)) is a normative part of the play culture.
In the briefing for End of the Line, Bjarke Pedersen suggested we Play for What Is Interesting, or Play for Drama, as losing is not always the most accurate description of this style of play. This direction allowed me to feel enabled to have a surprise, in-character engagement and marriage in the middle of the Vampire larp, as it made sense based upon the way play unfolded, but would not normally be classified as “losing.”((For additional photos of the larp, including the engagement and wedding, see Singen Sternenreise, “End of the Line: A White Wolf Larp,” in Exposure, last modified Mar. 15. 2016, https://singen.exposure.co/end-of-the-line)) Of course, my new wife was turned into a vampire thirty minutes later without consulting me, so loss happened regardless, which added more interest to the larp for me. Ultimately, the one-shot format and the fact that the characters were all written to be terrible people allowed for greater alibi,((Sarah Lynne Bowman, “Bleed: The Spillover Between Player and Character,” Nordiclarp.org, last modified Mar. 3, 2015, http://nordiclarp.org/2015/03/02/bleed-the-spillover-between-player-and-character/)) meaning that I did not have to feel terribly emotionally connected to my character or responsible for her unethical actions.
Play for What Is Interesting gave participants permission to take the story in whatever direction they found thematically appropriate. Photo by Tuomas Puikkonen.
Masquerade
Out of around 66 players, only one third were vampires. The rest of the characters were mortals or ghouls, i.e. servants of vampires. As players, we were not aware of who was playing each group and were encouraged to keep this information secret. In this way, the game was — in a meta sense — about enacting the Masquerade, but also about breaking it, as we were encouraged to do with abandon. Unlike traditional Camarilla Vampire games where breaches of the Masquerade are considered treasonous and often punishable by final death, in this game, we were encouraged to play the weaknesses of mortals and immortals alike. When breaches of the Masquerade occurred, mortals were instructed to view them as “drugs gone bad,” “abuse,” or “people pretending to be vampires,” rather than escalating to “vampires exist!” This guideline helped us preserve the Masquerade theme of the game without the larp breaking down.
As a mortal character, I was fed upon once, offered the chance to become immortal, and proffered fake blood to drink from a wrist while in a dazed state, which I eventually declined in favor of asking my girlfriend to marry me. As directed, I played only having a vague recollection of this scene as a “weird drug experience” that let me “see my future,” as the events transpired in the Green meta room.
A potential breach of the Masquerade. The organizers encouraged players to act with greater abandon than in a traditional Vampire larp. Photo by Tuomas Puikkonen.
Stats
Characters were given three base stats that had absolutely no mechanical effect, but rather served as guides to role-play. Some players found these stats pointless, although I thought they preserved the original feel of the character sheet while not limiting my character’s agency. My stats were Using People 3, Cruelty 3, and Jaded 1. Each of us had custom stats based upon the design of the character.
Vampires also had supernatural abilities such as Presence, Obfuscate, Fortitude, Potence, and Celerity, although the disciplines were significantly pared down from the original rules. Presence worked by placing a hand gently on the back of someone’s neck and saying, “You really, really want to do X.” Some examples are “You really, really feel in love with me” or “You really, really want to leave now.” The character under these effects chose how to interpret the command, but was expected to follow it for 10 minutes with no after-effects or memory. Disciplines worked on other vampires as well. From what I understand, Celerity and Potence merely added a bonus to Brawl. Interesting, vampires also could only use certain Disciplines if they fed upon characters that had specific emotional states. For example, “feeding from a forgotten, lonely or homeless person fuels Obfuscate,” while “drinking deep from someone that lusts or loves fuels Presence.”
A player uses the “You really, really….” mechanic for Presence by placing his hand on the back of another participant’s neck to indicate supernatural persuasion. Photo by Tuomas Puikkonen.
Brawl allowed for a mechanical representation of who would win in a fight if winning was desirable. While some players might choose to simply lose, Brawl stats were compared by flashing the number to one another, then discussing how the fight would play out before enacting it. While fighting was discouraged in the overall setting, I did see some fights break out that looked quite physical, as is the norm in many Nordic larps. Players could negotiate how close to real violence they wished to get, from miming to close-to-real physical strength.
Scents
Players were instructed to spray themselves with one of three scents at the start of game: coconut, citrus, or floral. These scents were appealing to vampires in that order from highest to lowest, which most of us did not know until the end. This mechanic was an interesting way to integrate multiple senses into the larp, although practically speaking, it was sometimes difficult to tell who smelled like what scent in close quarters.
Feeding
The feeding mechanic involved the vampire squirting fake blood into their mouth, biting the player with varying degrees of intensity, and licking the wound to heal it. Similarly, players could squirt blood on their wrists or neck and allow players to feed on them, which was experienced as ecstatic by all parties. Similar to the Presence mechanic, the effects of the blood lasted for ten minutes and resulted in feeling dazed and confused about what happened, at least for mortals.
Feeding scene in the Blue room. Photo by Tuomas Puikkonen.
Players were instructed to do all feeding slowly and from the front, although a couple of us experienced being bit and having our neck sucked hard as a surprise from behind while in the process of a slow scene. As the tap-out mechanic puts the onus on the recipient to opt-out if uncomfortable, such a practice led in our cases to feeling uncomfortable with these scenes, as tapping-out at that point would have been too late. However, several of the vampires asked for consent before biting and made sure to act slowly and visibly, which seemed to work well in most contexts. Additional workshopping of the mechanics before the game would have helped everyone feel more comfortable about the expectations ahead of time, as I will discuss in a later section.
Sexuality
As mentioned above, the sexuality rules were the most variable and also, in some ways, the most vague. Sex could be played through activities ranging from narratively explaining what happens to dry humping and making out based upon the comfort level of the participants. While nudity was possible, I did not personally witness much in the rooms in which I frequented. Hypothetically, real sex was possible, though not encouraged explicitly by the organizers.
Physical intimacy was negotiated between players based on individual comfort levels. Photo by Tuomas Puikkonen.
Dance
Players were encouraged to dance through the intro and outro scenes and the DJs played throughout the larp. One interesting metatechnique involved dancing. If a player was looking for interaction, they could enter the dance floor and attempt to engage in eye contact with another player, inviting a scene between the characters. While I did not use this technique often, other players reported it working seamlessly. Also, being able to dance when not engaged in role-play was a nice release for some players.
The dance floor played rave music throughout the night. Locking eyes on the dance floor was a metatechnique for starting a scene with a new person. Photo by Tuomas Puikkonen.
Death or Embrace
Players could determine if and when they wanted to die. A character could be fed upon multiple times with no negative consequences except those the player choose to role-play. Some characters were offered the opportunity to become vampires – i.e. the Embrace — which they would role-play out. I witnessed one character undergo this transformation, role-playing out the proceeding hunger and traumatic delirium post-Embrace quite convincingly. A couple of characters died during the game, with one playing a corpse in the closet for at least thirty minutes at the end of the larp.
Alibi and Agency
The characters in End of the Line were all written to be horrible people, regardless of their status as mortals, ghouls, or vampires. These characters represented the lowlifes of the streets and underground culture. As stated by organizer Martin Elricsson during a pre-game briefing, each character would experience being both predator and prey at some point. My character was specifically written to be a sociopathic hipster party organizer and drug dealer who sometimes messed with people because she was bored. Fortunately, this character was quite similar to my long-running Vampire character in her early days, so she was an easy default for me to inhabit. Other players reported having a more difficult time enacting the darker parts of their character’s nature.
What this design produced is a sense that all people have their inner monster and that vampires are merely a supernatural expression of that inhumanity, a theme that I have always felt was central to Vampire and often overlooked in traditional play. We do not need to look far in actual humanity to see the Beastial nature within us, nor do we need to invent supernaturally creative ways to be cruel and selfish. The metaphor of feeding and domination is useful to play out in this circumstance, but in reality, is no different than how people treat one another emotionally in their darker moments. For more information on this concept, depth psychologist Whitney Strix Beltrán has academically explored this expression of the players’ inner Shadow through Vampire and other games.((Whitney Strix Beltrán, “Shadow Work: A Jungian Perspective on the Underside of Live Action Role-Play in the United States,” in The Wyrd Con Companion Book 2013, edited by Sarah Lynne Bowman and Aaron Vanek (Los Angeles, CA: Wyrd Con, 2013), 94-101. https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/u/1793415/WCCB13.pdf)) As one of the players, Bob Wilson, summarized for World of Darkness News, “Emotionally, people manipulated, lied, and did all the other terrible things people do to each other.”((Harlequin, “‘End of the Line’ LARP Interview,” World of Darkness News, last modified on Mar. 16, 2016, http://www.worldofdarkness.news/Home/TabId/56/ArtMID/497/userid/2/ArticleID/15/End-of-the-Line-LARP-interview.aspx))
Characters in End of the Line often embodied some of the worst parts of human nature, whether vampire or mortal. Photo by Tuomas Puikkonen.
Some of the mortal players did find themselves lacking sufficient agency toward the end of the game, although we were instructed to make our own role-play scenes, also known as “bringing your own basket” to the picnic. One of the problems in traditional Vampire larp is the structural inequalities built into the game, where higher-level players with more status get more access to secret meetings, powers, plots, etc. While the beginning of End of the Line featured an equilibrium of play between mortals and supernatural characters, by the end of the larp, player-characters not involved with secret Camarilla meetings or getting Embraced as vampires sometimes felt excluded from play, as is often experienced by Neonates in traditional Vampire larp. Perhaps adding some sort of element to engage the still-mortal toward the end would help these players maintain engagement and their sense of agency, such as dealing with a police raid or some other type of plot.
Consent, Workshopping, and Debriefing
As mentioned above, the main opt-out mechanic of the larp was tapping-out. This mechanic places the onus on the person receiving the action to be cognizant enough of their own experience to remember to tap-out, to be comfortable enough with their co-players to not feel shamed for not being “hardcore” enough, etc. The organizers did a good job of trying to alleviate concerns around consent in the pre-game social media groups, assuring us that we could exit any scene without repercussion and that actions such as feeding would happen slowly, from the front, and with plenty of opportunity to tap-out. In practice, this rule was not always followed.
In my view, both the aggressor and the recipient should be equally responsible for consent in a scene. Briefly stopping play to check in with another player or negotiate the degree of intensity may cause a short break in immersion, but offers the net gain of allowing players the sense that their personal boundaries are important and will be respected by the other players. This comfort level can often lead to greater intensity if trust is established.
Because of the lack of space in the main building and time constraints, we were only given a thirty minute briefing rather than the usual workshopping often associated with Nordic larps.((The Workshop Handbook, Workshophandbook.com, last accessed Mar. 17, 2016, https://workshophandbook.wordpress.com/)) Similarly, we were not offered a chance for structured debriefing,((Sarah Lynne Bowman, “Returning to the Real World: Debriefing After Role-playing Games,” Nordiclarp.org, last modified Dec. 8, 2014, http://nordiclarp.org/2014/12/08/debrief-returning-to-the-real-world/)) as the organizers needed to clean the site and close it to the players. Some players convened for an after-party off-site, but I was unable to attend due to a conference in the morning.
Organizer Bjarke Pedersen running the pre-game briefing. Space and time constraints made extensive workshopping infeasible. Photo by Tuomas Puikkonen.
I believe that when playing with physically intimate scenes that feature feeding, violence, and sexuality, workshopping serves many important purposes. It helps players build trust before inhabiting their characters; offers opportunities to model and practice the mechanics; and opens up opportunities for players in their assigned groups to negotiate boundaries. We did some of these activities in our small groups over email, but recognizing each other at the venue was sometimes difficult and not everyone in the larp communicated boundaries beforehand. While I respect the fact that logistics for such an event can be difficult, one thing I learned from the Nordic larp Just a Little Lovin’ was the importance of off-game negotiation and workshopping in facilitating the ability to play intimacy more safely.((Sarah Lynne Bowman, “Love, Sex, Death, and Liminality: Ritual in Just a Little Lovin’,” Nordiclarp.org, last modified July 13, 2015, http://nordiclarp.org/2015/07/13/love-sex-death-and-liminality-ritual-in-just-a-little-lovin/)) Additionally, Just a Little Lovin’ featured clear negotiation before sexual scenes and ritualized this play in a way that allowed player input to influence the scene, not just character desires. This practice cut down on ambiguity.
Similarly, debriefing is important when processing the events that happen in such a game. While some individual players felt comfortable speaking informally after the game, a structured debrief – perhaps in small groups – would have allowed people the chance to de-role and speak seriously about their experience. I especially would have appreciated a structured opportunity to speak with the individuals with whom I had intimate scenes, insulted, or threatened in-character. I do think such debriefing sessions should be offered by organizers, but I also think they should be optional for individuals who wish to take part. It was difficult for some players inexperienced with Nordic larp and/or Vampire to transition quickly back to their daily consciousness and not perceive themselves or others as predators, an issue that can be ameliorated in part with a debrief.
The organizers of the larp plan to adjust the next run according to these critiques, with greater variability of options for physical play, negotiation between players, workshopping, and debriefing. In essence, this run showed excellent proof of concept with refinements that should and will be made for future iterations.
The Future of White Wolf and Nordic-style Vampire Larp
The Helsinki run of End of the Line is just the first of several events planned for the next two years. The organizing team plans to rerun a version of this larp at the Grand Masquerade in New Orleans in September 2016.((“The Grand Masquerade,” Masqueradebynight, last retrieved on Mar. 17, 2016, http://www.masqueradebynight.com/)) Potential players should note that based upon feedback, the above-mentioned mechanics and structure may change in the next iteration. Interested players can subscribe to the End of the Line mailing list here. Additionally, this team plans to runEnlightenment in Blood as a pervasive larp spanning many locations in Berlin in 2017 as a part of a multi-day World of Darkness festival.((“World of Darkness Berlin 2017: Enlightenment in Blood,” Enlightenmentinblood.com, last retrieved on Mar. 17, 2016, http://www.enlightenmentinblood.com/))
Finally, Liveform and Rollespilsfabrikken plan to run a White Wolf-endorsed larp calledConvention of Thorns between October 27-30, 2016.((“White Wolf Presents Convention of Thorns,” Cotlarp.com, last retrieved on Mar. 17, 2016, http://www.cotlarp.com/)) This larp will provide an alternate history account of the famous 15th century event in White Wolf history in which the Camarilla organizing body was formed. Notably, this historical larp will take place in a Polish castle and will focus upon interactions between vampires of various power levels, from Neonate to Methuselah. While some of the mechanics will resemble those from End of the Line, the two productions will offer different takes on the genre. In short, World of Darkness players interested in trying Nordic-style larps have several options coming soon.
To summarize, these larps are not intended to replace or alter existing Vampire larps, but rather to add additional experiences for players interested in this style. The physicality of the Nordic approach will likely not appeal to certain players, which is understandable. For potential players unused this style, I suggest fully reviewing the content of this article and other documentation before signing up for one of these games in order to understand the expectations of the play culture. I also suggest being clear from the outset with yourself and your co-players about your boundaries via email or other forms of communication. Players should feel enabled to negotiate those limits before, during, and after play and tap-out of any scene that makes them uncomfortable. In my view, physical play in larp is certainly possible — indeed, some of the organizers of End of the Line started role-playing in traditional Vampire larps before exploring other forms of embodiment — but should be done with careful consideration of the off-game needs of other players.
End of the Line
Participation Fee: €25 Players: 66 Date: March 7, 2016, 6 hours Location: Helsinki, Finland Created by: Bjarke Pedersen, Juhana Pettersson & Martin Elricsson Production: José Jácome & Mikko Pervilä Characters: Elin Nilsen, Jørn Slemdal & Mika Loponen Decor: Marcus Engstrand, Anders Davén & Aleksander Nikulin Documentation: Tuomas Hakkarainen, Tuomas Puikkonen, Julius Konttinen & Joona Pettersson Catering: Kasper Larson & Aarne Saarinen Production assistants: Outi Mussalo, Tia Carolina Ihalainen, James Knowlden, Bob Wilson, Irrette Cziezerski, Jukka Seppänen & Ville-Eemeli Miettinen Featuring: Suicide Club (Gabriella Holmström & Ossian Reynolds) Produced by: White Wolf Publishing and Odyssé with Solmukohta and Inside Job Agency
Cover photo: Part-larp, part-rave, End of the Line provided a unique and authentic World of Darkness experience, in game photo by Tuomas Puikkonen. Other photos by Tuomas Puikkonen.
I thought I’d write up a game summary about my experience playing Fairweather Manor, as there seems to be some interest. My background is as an American larper with some-to-moderate larp experience in the American scene, whose first international larp was College of Wizardry earlier this year.
Fairweather Manorwas set in early 1914, and the larp was run at Moszna Castle, a period-appropriate residence. An international crowd of roughly 150 players participated. The premise was that Sir Edward Fairweather, Duke of Somerset, was celebrating his 60th birthday and had invited many of the disparate branches of the family together to celebrate.
My Character
I was playing Richard Wayward-Fairweather, the patriarch of the American branch of the family. The American branch was represented by myself and my in-game family consisting of my wife, my daughter, my sister-in-law and my niece. Our background was that the American plantation — we named it Wayward Hall — was mismanaged horribly by my elder brother, who had died two years before. It was starting to recover, but still suffered under an extreme amount of debt. My primary goal in the larp was to find investors to restore the manor, possibly by finding a rich suitor for my daughter.
The characters were well-written, but there needed to be more information shared across characters. As an example, my wife had information about our dead son which didn’t make it into my packet. Also, my character had invited someone else to the manor, but I was unaware of it until I was approached by them at the larp.
It would have been very helpful to have a “family background” packet that shared all the relevant common information about the family, then allowing the individual packets to fill out the private information on a character-by-character basis.
Schedule
The game ran from Thursday to Saturday. Thursday we arrived, had about 90 minutes to get to our rooms, change into costume, and play a brief in-character scene. This included picking up our costumes if we chose to rent them. I was staying in a room with the other members of the American branch; noble families were housed together, and this was a great idea, as the rooms were large enough to comfortably accommodate everyone and it provided a way for families to communicate.
After arrival, after everyone had unpacked and arranged their costumes, players broke into small groups for workshops and dinner. The first scene, which was filmed for the documentary, was all the guests arriving at the manor at night, greeting the family, and heading into the great hall for a brief address by the Duke.
Friday and Saturday began with everyone waking up in game. There was generally a servant available in the morning to help us get dressed, which was extremely helpful, as a number of women in my room were wearing corsets. Then breakfast, followed by a brief homily in the chapel. Following that, there were various activities around the manor; examples include a poetry reading, a political discussion, and a scene from a play. This was followed by lunch, another round of activities, some speeches, and an hour to dress formally for dinner. The evening started with dinner, then men and women separated into two groups for discussions. Finally, each night ended with a formal ball: a Servant’s Ball on Friday and a Grand Ball on Saturday.
Meals, with the exception of breakfast, were served for all the nobles at once; servants ate at different times. There was assigned seating and the servants would serve each course to the table in order. Some people complained about the pace of the meals — they ended up taking a significantly longer time than predicted — although to some extent, this was an artifact of the period.
What Worked Well
By far the biggest reason the larp worked as well as it did is the setting, followed closely by the care and effort the players put into their characters and costumes. Moszna Castle is stunning, and filled with servants and nobles, it’s very easy to imagine you’ve been transported back in time.
Another strength for me was the “brute force” design. Some of the hallmarks of brute force design are having many subgroups with different agendas, having members within each subgroup disagree with one another, and seeding power imbalances and secrets through the character writeups. Rather than have specific plots or events woven through the weekend, characters were free to play out their stories naturally, and players were given the agency to create their own game. This allowed a number of different play styles and themes to coexist. Some players lived out a gothic tragedy, others a Belle Époque romance, still others a Remains of the Day-style elegy. This was obviously more work for players, but it accommodated a wide range of approaches.
What Needed Work
There’s only one thing that requires serious attention: the servant/noble mechanics. They are sufficiently complex that I discuss them in more detail below. Otherwise, there were some fairly minor issues to address.
When we arrived Thursday, we were rushed to get dressed for the workshops and the opening scene. I felt like the day could have been structured better. I was hoping to start playing on Thursday rather than just having one short scene, and some of the workshops could have been more focused on specifics like etiquette, rather than the more general information. As an example, a number of nobles found it difficult to get out of the habit of thanking servants when they did something, which struck many people as jarring and out-of-character. Some explanation and practice beforehand could have alleviated those problems.
In casting and plotlines, it seemed like there were a lot of women looking for eligible bachelors, but not very many young men looking for women. This created some frustrating play for some people.
Meals were assigned seating, which I thought was a great idea as it provided an opportunity to interact with people whose characters wouldn’t normally interact. Unfortunately, there could have been more thought put into the rotation; I found myself frequently at the same table with many of the people I had sat with for different meals. Others commented on the same thing.
Servants and Masters
The biggest challenge for the larp, though, was the relationship between the nobles and the servants. While most of the nobles really enjoyed the game, the players to whom I talked who played servants had much more varied opinions. They certainly had a lot more demands placed on them: their day started several hours earlier than the nobles, they were constantly pulled away from their stories to serve the whims of upstairs, and they often had no opportunity to sit down or relax at all.
There were also times — like the servant’s mealtimes, or when they were preparing for their ball Friday night — when it wasn’t possible for nobles to find servants.
I think it comes down the fact that there are essentially two separate and fundamentally different larps running simultaneously, with only a few points of connection between them. I’m not sure that’s a bad thing, but it does require being up front about the experience you should expect as a player. One suggestion, which may or may not be feasible, is to raise the price for nobles, while dropping the price for servants; that makes it more clear what the expectations of each role should be. Increasing the number of servants, as well, would reduce the burden on each individual player while increasing their availability.
Overall
In short, this was a largely successful iteration of the “blockbuster” formula, and a particularly interesting one, proving that it works even for genres which don’t rely on action or adventure to drive their plot mechanics. These games are ambitious and difficult to pull off, owing to their expense, logistics, and reliance on a fully engaged player base to generate play. But when they work, they provide an impressive amount of latitude in the play they can generate, and can be uniquely engaging to their participants.
Ludography
Fairweather Manor (2015). Agata Swistak, Agnieszka Linka Hawryluk-Boruta, Akinomaja Borysiewicz, Alexander Tukaj, Beata Ploch, Charles Bo Nielsen, Claus Raasted, Dracan Dembinski, Ida Pawłowicz, Janina Wicher, Krzysztof “Ciastek” Szczęch, Krzysztof “Iryt” Kraus, Maciek Nitka, Mikołaj Wicher, Nadina Wiórkiewicz, Szymon Boruta. Rollespilsfabrikken and Liveform. Moszna, Poland. http://www.fmlarp.com/
All photos are exclusively licensed for use by John-Paul Bichard. Contact him for use of these and other photos from Fairweather Manor.
The Great War, or the first World War, was a massive, horrible massacre on a truly industrial scale, and it is one of the wars I find most fascinating. I’ve read so much about it it, know so much trivia and still I had almost no knowledge of the Czech Legion in Siberia. Walking a few miles in the shoes of those legionnaires not only opened my eyes to a very important piece of history most of us probably have no knowledge of, but also brought me new friends and some very emotional memories.
NOTE: This article is purposefully vague on the actual events during the larp, in line with the organizers wishing to keep story and plot spoiler free for coming runs.
Legion, or Legie as it is called in its original language, is a Czech larp that had already had six runs by the time the international run was played, and is a game for 54 pre-written characters, both soldiers and civilians. The story is based on (very well researched) historical accounts of the Czech Legion as they found themselves in Siberia, unable to return west to their newly proclaimed state after the collapse of Imperial Russia. It is a rather complex history, one that I highly recommend you at least look up in Wikipedia, but basically they were stuck for years along the Trans-Siberian Railway fighting or negotiating to evacuate to Vladivostok and go home to Czechoslovakia.
The Story of the Legion
When signing up for the larp, players got to describe their views on what they wanted out of the game etc, even writing about a person that they would identify with or be inspired by, and I take it all of this was taken into account when the organizers decided on what characters to offer the different players. Once that process was done players were offered three characters (with a short synopsis) and told to rank them in preference, and down the line you were handed one of them to play.
Characters were really diverse and spanned thematically very well over the different aspects the organizers wanted us to relate to; there were soldiers naturally, both idealistic volunteers and less enthusiastic ex-prisoners of war, there were nurses and civilians, wives and followers, and a few local guides. The character material was hefty, quite a few pages of back-history, motivations, relationships etc and you could tell the organizers had spun a very thick and wide net of relationships, potential drama and friendships (and animosity). All in all I think I had some 80 pages to print in total, including history, character, player notes, practical info etc, so quite a lot to read but very well produced and meaningful.
As stated earlier, the organizers asked us to be mindful of the game not being transparent, and since I don’t want to spoil the game for players who have not yet played it, I’ll just say that the plot itself really felt cinematic but at the same time realistic. There were all kinds of emotions and motivations flying around – love, hate, community, survival, morality vs pragmatism, democracy vs chain of command etc – and I found that it worked really well, especially since the journals pushed most characters into changing or evolving during the game, sometimes in grand ways, sometimes very discreetly. The game has really grown on me once I had time to process it, there was just so much going on and so many emotions to handle that it took time to process it once out of the grueling march.
Dial up the Hardcore
Right from the start we knew Legion was going to be a hardcore larp. Uniforms and gear would be provided. Blank firing guns too. It would be played in the dead of winter in the Czech countryside (one night march the temperature was twenty below zero centigrade), we were going to be marching quite some distance (as it turned out, 25 kilometers through snow and ice, up and down some pretty steep and slippery slopes), we were going to be hunted and harassed and boy, did the larp deliver. For many of us, it was the most physically challenging larp we have ever played, and some players (myself included) came close to the breaking point at one point or another – but I don’t think anyone actually reached the point where they had to stop. I must say I was very impressed by the preparations and care given by the organizers here, which made us feel very safe and able to keep going.
The focus on the physical – the marching, the cold weather and the rest – really brought you into the mindset of being a soldier (or nurse, or prisoner) in a really shitty situation, a taste of what it must be like forcing yourself to go on taking one step after the other or just falling down and giving up. Many of us found the marching and physically challenging environment really helped getting “inside the head” of your character.
Railroading and Larp Culture
Going to an event where there is another larp culture than you’re used to is an interesting experience. Culture clashes will inevitably happen, and I think most of us had that in mind going there. We were not sure exactly what the conventions were or how the play style would be, but the organizers were very clear on two things: the larp would be heavily railroaded and there would be very little transparency and lots of secrets. This is, coming from the nordic larp sphere, a bit unusual but I think most of us just accepted the premise and went along with it – when in Rome…
As it turned out, the format of Legion was in some ways similar to what you’d expect a nordic larp to be, and in other ways contrary to current nordic larp trends. One example of the latter is players not being aware until mid-game that their characters had a scripted death scene and that they would be given an new character for the remainder of the game. That the game was heavily railroaded made sense; if we’d just been let loose in the icy countryside the larp wouldn’t have worked, and some other aspects were both interesting and useful, like the fateplay instructions in players journals or the combat/damage/healing system, but some design issues felt like they could use some improvement.
I think the biggest problem, at least for me, was the sheer amount of stuff to be done once the legion was stationary at a location. There was a conflict between playing soldierly duties (standing guard for instance), resting and recuperating, larping with your co-players and playing out the suggestions or orders in your journal. For some of the locations it felt as if you either had to drop the soldier character to do relationship drama, or vice versa – this however got better once we got deeper into the story. There were other things in the written suggestions that felt a bit weird or off track compared to where you were in the game as well, which kind of made me “hack” the game a bit (even though I tried respecting the rules and vision of the game). Unfortunately, for me and a few other players, the plotlines that had to do with romance came at a time when I was just physically too exhausted to really play them out.
As usual, we had some problems with what I refer to as “larp democracy”, the situation in which your game can become bogged down in debate and making compromises and making sure everyone gets to speak up. We also had the all too common problem of players (as a collective) smoothing over or trying to solve conflicts arising, instead of letting them play out to their conclusion. This was however not the fault of the organizers per se, but a common occurrence at almost every larp (regardless of where), and I think there needs to be instructions, workshops or just talks about it before the game unless that concept is actually part of your design.
In hindsight, the game could have really benefited from an hour or two workshopping how to act as a soldier (lining up, saluting, chain of command, passing orders down the line, marching etc). Because of delays in transporting players to the site etc time ran a bit short.
Czech Your Privilege
Having said all that, I realize I was a guest at one specific event with its own history, norms and culture, and I come from a larp scene where we just have different experiences, different dos and don’ts, so instead I’ll end this short summary with the things I think the organizers did really well. The logistics, information and production values were very, very high – some of it much better than I’m used to from the nordic scene. The organizers had a huge, committed team and they really inspired trust and enthusiasm in me and my co-players. There was so much cool gear, everything was so well planned and executed, and we felt really well taken care of. Very inviting and hospitable atmosphere. I can imagine just how much work went into creating this experience for us. Also, I have never seen a more beautiful larp site than the one we trekked across, and some of the locations were just marvellous.
The NPC team did a marvellous job as well, keeping the pressure up and really populating the locations we visited. You really felt as if the entire team gave their very best performance for us to enjoy. But, maybe the biggest takeaway from Legion is that we were given a story that just grows on you, and makes you realize there is a whole country and its history that you know so very little of smack in the middle of Europe. I now have a burning interest to learn more.
Brothers, sisters, if there is another international run of Legion, don’t hesitate. Sign up. I’ve had maybe one the most powerful and interesting larps I’ve had in a very long time.
Legion: Siberian Story
Date: January 18 – 21, 2016 Location: Czech Republic Length: ~38h game time Players: 55 players + NPCs Website:http://legion.rolling.cz
Cover photo: Soldiers of the legion charging over a field (play, Karel Křemel). Other photos by Karel Křemel and Hana Maturová.
Clockbottom was a larp set in America during the Civil War, with a steampunk twist and elements of horror. About 120 participants from seven different countries gathered during one weekend of September to act out the mysteries in the mining town of Clockbottom. Myself, I played the village’s protestant preacher. It was a role that enabled me to mix with dusty miners, fancy bankers, and everything in between. I liked this a lot, since it allowed me to pursue plots across groups and status levels.
This was my first larp of both the era (1800s) and genre (steampunk/horror). There were both experienced and first-time-larpers among the players, as well as a variety of backgrounds (reenactment, larping, steampunk-nerds, and so on). Since there were participants from all over Europe, the entire larp was played in English with the exception of some characters with Swedish or Danish ancestry (they could therefore speak those respective languages as well).
There is much to say about this larp, not the least regarding the impressive amount of detail in props or the awe-inspiring generosity and inclusiveness in gameplay. I will try to highlight a few phenomenons that stood out in my eyes.
Prologue and the Mine
It is the first time she has had reason to travel down into one of the mines since her arrival in Clockbottom. The air is cold, damp, dark. Yes, it is as if the air itself is dark down there. She cannot help but wonder if this is what being buried alive feels like. The kind woman’s voice instructing them in safety matters upon entering the mine is reassuring though, as is the attentive presence of the timekeepers. She stays close to Witte, knows he will look out for her here as he does in the village. The miners are unrestful, uncertain. What awaits them in here is not only a return to God’s honest work, but a return to the loss of beloved ones. Will there be bodies? A new kind of stench?
One thing that the Clockbottom larp presented, that I have not seen done before, was a prologue. This was a 1-2 hour scene available for those who so desired it, meant to set the tone for the later opening of the larp as well as offering nearly all characters a chance to partake in a common scene no matter their alignments or statuses.
The prologue took place in the mine that was later used in-game. The organizers struck a good deal with the mine company, in which the larp had the use of the mine for free in return for some real work done in there (shovelling gravel, mostly). To have an actual mine to play in was extraordinary what with feeling, immersion and understanding. Unfortunately the mine itself was located about half an hour by car from the larp village, so travelling between the two meant some off game time for those with characters there.
I initially signed up for the prologue to get to see the mine, as my preacher would not spend in-game time there. However, it soon turned out that it was a magnificent way of trying out your character, build some spontaneous relations and plots, and to bring back a shared experience to the actual larp. It is a concept I would love to see more of at other events, perhaps incorporated among pre-larp workshops like this one was.
A Multitude of Larps in One
They have not yet reached the true conclusion of the cipher when she is presented with two sheets of paper. Apparently they have been found inside the propeller resting by the piano in the bar. She is perplexed, cannot fathom how something so secret can be hidden in plain sight and yet remain unfound until now. The content of the papers shocks her to the core, however, quite unprepared as she is for such truths to unravel after all this time. It is the last will of her predecessor, Reverend Smith. She has found no facts regarding his life before, has been met only with silent tongues and shifting eyes when inquiring among the townsfolk. And apparently there was much more she did not know.
Something that to me speaks of a well-planned or well-played out larp, is when there are “many larps within the larp”. Not only as in different plotlines, but when there are actually different types of stories or sub-larps amongst different parts of the player pool. Clockbottom had this multitude of larps to a great extent. For example, the workers had gang- and poverty-related play, the soldiers had skirmishes and soldier-play, the villagers had everyday village life (intercepted by mysteries), the preachers had a lot of religious play and the scientists had their research and experiments. The company administration even found themselves in a spontaneous meta-larp “by telegraph” (which the organizers ran) around selling and buying company stocks. Naturally, this also becomes a believable backdrop for players not currently participating in a certain sub-story.
What connected everything more than other plotlines, however, was the great mystery plot of Clockbottom’s darker secrets. I do enjoy mystery solving in a larp, and have played many such roles over the years. One problem that too often arises, is when players figure out the solution “too soon” and are left spending the last day of the larp in some kind of waiting state. I was concerned that this would happen here as well, since we solved a lot of the clues during the first day. Alas, I should not have worried.
It is the most extensive mystery plot I have encountered, and with such detail in props and clues. Altogether, there were ciphers and codes in Latin, ancient Greek, hieroglyphs, numbers, Cherokee, Bible references and music, apart from the regular notes, diaries, letters and articles in English. There was a copper tablet inscribed with hieroglyphs, there was a full research journal in a multitude of languages and there was an alluring cryptex. Initially, we were three or four people trying to investigate. On the last day of the larp, we were more like twenty I would say. Also, an aspect that furthered the game was that many characters (pre-written by the organizers) held tiny pieces of the puzzle that only made sense together, thus encouraging those pursuing the truth to inquire amongst any and all in the village.
Horror Effects
The crystal clear notes of the eerie tune will haunt her to the end of her days, she knows it even as she hears it there, for the first time. It holds her in place stronger than the fiercest of chains, marks her mind for insanity as surely as water flows downwards. Not yet perhaps, but it will come. The utter terror that fills her veins makes her simultaneously unable to move and acting on impulse. Her voice sounds strangely strangled as she once more calls out, and no one could ever pretend that her words appear intimidating anymore. It is more of a croak, more of a pointless motion to be gone through. Then a pause, a held breath awaiting an answer while frozen lips pray to a God that is far away, too far away, that none such will come.
But it does. Oh, it does.
Apart from the steampunk-Civil War genre, Clockbottom was most definitely a horror larp. Several elements aided in this, not the least the full moon and lingering mist that adorned the village every night. However, there were items and events presented by the organizers that truly laid the base for this feeling of terror. Some were more easily achieved, like the melody that became the tune connected with madness, ghosts and devilry, or the use of “shadows” -a meta-technique where certain “non visible” players whisper, coax or otherwise interact with the character players of the larp in a -during this larp – eerie manner.
Other elements needed more planning. There were tiny sound devices placed around the village, playing five different tracks of “scary sounds” (ie whispers, child’s laughter or scraping noises) at random time intervals. These were really efficient in upping the feel of utter terror, I can confess to that. I must also mention the full-size, very realistic skeleton that was buried in the village graveyard months before the larp. She was unearthed twice during the weekend, and each time it was equally unnerving to find the meter-deep grave gaping open, the nailed-shut coffin lid thrown aside, and the skeleton grinning at us from its grave.
Inter-player Communication
That she has held sermons on top of children’s remains for three years… The thought is unbearable. At last they are gathered; preachers and townsfolk brave enough to take on this gruesome task. Walsh is there, silent and watching. Gibson and Mr Sommer are sturdy and clear-eyed, mayhap they have known about this, or about the murder. The miner who so bravely spoke of crawling in under the church to secure the box is found, and they are ready. Almost – she calls for more lanterns, they must have light. Oh, if they could but have done this in daylight.
Inclusion and playing to lose are two terms that invite you to play generously and humbly (even though your character can be quite the opposite) in order to involve others in your play. The players of Clockbottom did this to such a degree that I was genuinely taken aback. I have not previously seen such generosity and inclusion at any larp I’ve been to, nor how quickly it became a game structure rather than something individual players did.
Taking the great mystery plot as an example, there was never a question of stepping into a closed house with a select few to try and translate the codes. Instead, anyone who curiously lingered by the open table on the main street was invited to share their view on the current matter. Secret notes were shown to any and all who might hold the slightest clue; be it a miner or the company director. When embarking upon tasks in the night or to places we were not supposed to go, there was no real sneaking about. Anyone who happened by was warned about the gravity of the task, but not turned away. What with the plot clues spread all across the board, we probably couldn’t have solved the mystery without including as many people as possible either.
What the cause for this high level of inclusion is, I don’t really know. Perhaps it was the instruction from the organizers on playing to lose. Perhaps it was a positive outcome from the mixing of larp cultures. Perhaps it was a standard set by in-game decision makers that others followed. Either way, I definitely hope to see more of this inclusive larping at future events I go to (and will of course try to do my part).
One thing that I found strangely lacking regarding interplayer communication however, was the lack of just that prior to the larp. There was a forum, but only a few people posted there. I know that there were facebook groups for in-game gangs and groups, but as far as I saw they were not announced too clearly on the main event page. Shout-outs on the main event page rendered few replies from players. Since my character did not really belong to any groups, and since I didn’t activate myself in creating groups for, for example, the “holy folks”, I barely had any communication with others before the larp.
I must confess that this silence amongst players made me a bit worried, and it felt rather unusual what with the plot planning and relation building that today counts as standard preparation for any Swedish larp. Now, based on the prologue and in-game initiatives this was not a problem during the larp at all. However, I must think that this could have presented a considerable threshold for people new to larping, or to people more shy or otherwise unsure of how to make contact with other players (unless they were in active groups already).
Final Words
While there have been smaller 1800s/steampunk larps, I think this was the first larger one that catered to a wider community of players. Although a possible cause for hesitation, it turned out that the gear for this setting was not too hard to come about, perhaps even easier than for earlier historical periods. Combined with the enjoyable aspect of meeting people from other larp cultures (nation wise as well as playing style-wise), I heard many express afterwards that this was a style of larping they’d definitely look into more. And I must say, I think there will be a lot more steampunk in the years to come.
A note regarding things not addressed in this article:
There was some discussion prior to Clockbottom, on the topic of the Cherokee being a part of the larp setting and the risks of cultural appropriation. As I neither played a Cherokee character, nor am of an ethnic group exposed to appropriation or negative prejudices, I did not feel best suited to present that here. There are other players much more eligible for that, and I might just miss the right angles due to my own lack of experience in the matter.