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It’s time for another edit-a-thon! Previous events made many qualitative new articles and changes in the Wiki.
An edit-a-thon is an event where we gather and work very focused on putting in content into the Nordic Larp Wiki. Let’s make the great Nordic Larp Wiki even grander!
The edit-a-thon will be coordinated over at Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/events/875866419122959/
Cover photo by Chris Keating (source).
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Our story took place aboard the M/S Lyckan, a former German navy freighter with a horrific history of atrocities. A research expedition to Kirkenes in Norway had unearthed a strange statuette, which was brought on board during M/S Lyckan’s last journey out of Kirkenes for the winter. Aboard were the expedition, the crew and captain, a group of workers, a doctor and nurse, a group of dilettantes and adventurers and a few others.
Mare Incognitum was a larp set in Lovecraft’s Cthulhu Mythos, aboard the decommissioned destroyer HMS Småland. We wanted to create a claustrophobic horror larp that relied more on atmosphere and “slow pressure” than shock and jump scares; more on subtle, personal horror than on monsters and gore. We chose, unconventionally, to do a 1950’s Lovecraft larp rather than the classic 1920’s setting, both because it fit the actual ship better, but also to be able to use the Second World War as a tapestry for much of the background, something we think worked out very well.
We realized early on that we were going to have to do multiple runs of the larp in order to be able to finance it properly, and we decided on doing three runs of the larp for 26 players each game. Wise from the experiences of our last Mythos larp Terra Incognita we tried our best to have a fifty-fifty ratio of women to men, and to let chance dictate who got the spots for the larp (with a few exceptions).
This strategy proved to be successful, both in terms of equal representation and in terms of players we didn’t personally know – you can get comfortable as an organizer and mostly cast people already known to you. Most of the final participants were from Sweden, but we also had participants from Denmark, Norway, Finland, Estonia, Great Britain, the US and Spain.
We also tried to have at least 20 percent beginners at the larp. However, quite a few of the beginners dropped out before the larp, so the 20 percent was not fully realized.
The location, the ship, made many decisions about the story for us, which is how we like to work – do something within a set of limitations. It was going to be claustrophobic and dark, and the players were going to be cut off from the outside world; all great components for creating horror. We first decided on the basic outline of the story: first some normality onboard the ship, followed by the ship getting stuck in the ice, then taking away comforts like lights and food, a slow escalation of weirdness, clues, handouts and events leading up to a crescendo in which the players are confronted with their doom.
It was quite a challenge writing twenty-seven interesting, multifaceted characters and fitting them all together in the story, making sure to give all the players both agency and internal logic. It was important to us that we created characters that would be fun to play even if we completely removed the horror and supernatural elements. We had utilized skjebner (fate-play) before, and for Mare Incognitum we gave all the characters several fates and triggers (“if x happens, do this/react in this way”) in order to create hooks for the players nudging towards insanity or to create potential for scenes or conflict. Once we had assigned players to the characters we tweaked those characters who were not Swedes (different background texts).
Characters were divided into groups; an expedition of scientists, a group of workers, a group of dilettantes and adventurers and their servants, etc. A big help here was a drawing board, where you could connect the different characters and how they related to each other in order to visualize possible plots, twists and subgroups.
As we said earlier, we used the Second World War as a background for many of the characters, and the war itself was used as an underlying subplot; the ship had previously been the stage of some atrocities during the war, and many documents, letters and signs produced for the larp and spread around the ship contained info on this backstory which we think added another layer of horror underneath the Mythos horror.
This also offered us the opportunity to treat the ship itself as a character in the drama and the ship’s history was lent physical form as shadows from the past via odd messages on the radio but also as actual Shadows (NPCs giving suggestions or insights to the players, but being invisible to the characters).
Early on, we decided to aim for a creeping, slow horror rather than “in-your-face” jump-scares. As is the key to most Mythos horror, the horror is ancient, does not care at all about humanity, and is more or less impossible to understand – and there can be no defeating the horror, only a short respite.
The key things that made this larp were, we think, the ship itself (i.e “the stage”), the handouts (handwritten diaries, letters, photos, documents, etc) that gave background and increased the sense of horror onboard, the characters (pre-written and designed for drama, conflict and a slow descent into madness) and a combination of creative NPCs and on-the-spot game-mastering.
The sound system used onboard greatly helped in creating mood and atmosphere. Having great players also helped a lot.
Creating horror, we believe, is a very delicate and sensitive thing.
Pace it too slow or too fast and you burn out the players or destroy the narrative, show too much of the horror and you risk it losing it’s power. Give the players too much to do – like reading handouts and completing tasks – and they can become too focused on doing and not feeling.
But on the other hand, if you give the players too little to do the sense of “developing” story or of getting anywhere might be lost and the players may become tired or bored.
Our larp had its fair share of pacing issues (which we tried correcting during subsequent runs), and as an organizer you have a hard time gauging what the players are feeling or currently doing, and you might panic, thinking the players are bored, and start doing things that screws up what might be an excellent atmosphere for the players.
We had a radio room, where the players diegetically could speak to other ships in the area as well as the coast guard, and we think it worked out better than we had imagined.
At first it functioned as a source of information and safety for the players (there was always an “external party” they could talk to), but as the game progressed the voices on the radio increased the feeling of isolation and the problematic situation the passengers were now in – coastal stations reporting that the storm was gaining in intensity, ships reporting that they could not reach them to help, etc.
Players in the radio room could also experience semi-meta gameplay; strange voices from the past, weird monster sounds, voices speaking to them from beyond the grave etc, which worked really well – especially so since the room was rigged with a night vision camera so we could identify players and simultaneously read up on their back-stories as we spoke to them.
We put some effort into making sure all the characters for the larp were as gender neutral as possible. Any character should be playable by anyone without any (or very little) modification. We were also very strict in keeping the ratio 50/50 between (self-identified) males and females. We realize that we need to actively work more to create a game with actual equality in regards to gender, and this is something we’ll have to keep discussing and working on.
Tech never works flawlessly. It will break, or you’ll have great problems getting it to work right. Always plan for that if you intend to have a tech-enhanced larp. Keep an “analog” option for your players. Also make sure tech is dead simple to understand, then dumb it down even further. Test the tech in extreme conditions. Try everything beforehand, multiple times, to find the glitches. Our sound system gave us extreme headaches until we managed to get it working right.
We railroaded the end too much, which felt weird and out of place. This is bad design. Try to avoid that unless you have a kick-ass ending that you feel works no matter what state the players are in.
Bring in new players, and people you’ve never worked with before. Don’t be afraid. You might just be amazed (like when the new blood don the wellingtons, and take on the monumental task of cleaning out the poop floating all over the kitchen). Make sure you have a great team of NPCs and functionaries to back you up when you get tired or busy.
We are somewhat stuck in the 360 design model, and we were sometimes hesitant to break the diegesis in order to spook players or use meta techniques to further the game, but once we did it was universally well received and really worked out well. We need to stop being afraid of breaking the 360 illusion.
Keeping players up to date is very hard, even if you just choose one single channel for that information (email for instance). Do NOT rely on Facebook at all, but also keep in mind that players will miss emails and will not read all your text. Be very, very clear in writing, and repeat everything that is important several times.
In the end we’re happy to have created the larp together with the kick ass participants and our excellent crew, to have run three fairly different runs. The participants humble us with relevant feedback, making us wanting to continue, and also letting others learn from our mistakes (and successes). It was a great larp for most, but it could have been better, and we’ll work on that until next time!
Credits: Olle Nyman, Sara Pertmann, Sebastian Utbult, Andreas Sjöberg and Simon Svensson. Crewed by 15 additional NPCs and deckhands.
Date: November 28-30, 2014
Location: HMS Småland, Gothenburg, Sweden
Length: 10 hours
Players: 78 (26 per run)
Budget: ~€6,500
Participation Fee: €65 – €110 (depending on income)
Game Mechanics Diegetic Game Mastering, Honour System, Slow take- off, Slow Landing, Soundtrack, Pre- written characters,Shadows, Narrative Voice-Over, Playing to lose, Brems, Kutt, Pre-larp Workshop
Website: http://iäiä.se/
This article was initially published in The Nordic Larp Yearbook 2014 which was edited by Charles Bo Nielsen & Claus Raasted, published by Rollespilsakademiet and released as part of documentation for the Knudepunkt 2015 conference.
Cover photo: The organizers have an in-game radio conversation with the stranded travellers. (Play, Jonas Aronsson). Other photos by Jonas Aronsson.
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Livsgäld, translated roughly as “the price you pay for your life”, was a low-fantasy larp held in November, 2014, in Halmstad, Sweden. The larp was played in Swedish, had 40 participants, three non-player characters and four organizers. The spots for the players were given out through a lottery process, where participants first signed up over the span of a week after which a draw was made to see whom among the players would receive spots. The larp used two criteria to divide the various players into different pools – we first divided the player group into self identified men, women and non-binary individuals, with a goal of as many self identified men as women in the player group. After this division was made, we went on to divide by age. Ten spots were reserved for the 25% who were youngest of the player group, twenty spots were reserved for the 50% in the middle and ten spots for the oldest 25% of players.
Despite our efforts to achieve this balance, when drop-outs were taken into account, we did not have enough reserve players among men in the latter stages of the process and the actual game ended up with a skewed ratio, with more women than men attending.
The setting for the larp was a world known as Xaos, constructed by organizer Simon Svensson.
The larp itself was centered around an isolated culture that had been existing on its own for hundreds of years in a single village. The culture entirely lacked a social sex-based gender, the focus was instead on four elements that were seen as part of your biological entity in the same way as gender is for us today. The concepts ‘man’ or ‘woman’ did not exist, even if the members of the culture were physically identical to us.
The story played with themes of survival, both literal in avoiding starvation, but also cultural survival when the old ways did not work as they used to. The food stores were low and for many years, the fields had gotten more barren, the hunting had diminished and tensions were on the rise. During the larp, the People, as they were called, had to confront whether they would rely on the extremely conservative foundations of their entire people, the cultural values they held sacred, or brave the dangers of the unknown.
The unknown also held the mythological threat from a civilization that once held the people as slaves and were said to roam the wilderness in search for them.
The culture was one of shame and guilt, where the personality traits that are often seen as good today were considered destructive and bad (bravery, creativity, being outspoken, self-confidence), while atypical leader abilities – intuition, empathy, carefulness and cowardice – were seen as positive and constructive traits. Conflicts were solved by smoothing over and handling the fallout rather than the cause.
If the main storyline was the food crisis, the actual focus of play was the social pressure that was a natural part of such an isolated society; a society where the equilibrium rests on shame and the silencing of dissenting voices. When the crisis became more outspoken, all the tension that was stored in the various dynamics between the collectives (the family units of the game), individuals and between element-genders rose up to the surface. Love was lost, forbidden love was uncovered and the young members of the village were initiated into their collectives, to live with them for the rest of their lives.
During the larp, three unknown spirits also appeared, brought into the village by some of the fire-gendered, the most oppressed of the four elements. These spirits turned out to have different agendas that they tried to pursue through affecting the people and their ways.
In the end, a choice was made. Their existence doomed, they refused to go quiet into the night and fade away. The village abandoned their ancestral home to face the unknown on a great exodus, knowing well that most of them would not make it.
Calm gazes with the power to silence loud voices. Tears that are swallowed, hidden away to uphold the illusion of well-being. A collective where everyone is included. Yet, some are still left outside, isolated. Love filled with demands exists side by side with the search for acceptance. To be loved, not for the person who I am but despite of it. Livsgäld. One larp, many emotions followed by important insights. I was not poor when I went there but I left richer than I was before. My new found riches are thoughts and a new way to view the world.
These thoughts by one of the players include some of our core design elements. When we created Livsgäld, we had three major design goals. They were:
The first point was one of the first that we decided on and our philosophy towards gender was based around the thought that, in order to achieve gender equality in a larp, you could not simply remove gender inequalities and otherwise keep the same traditional fantasy or modern setting. We would still have hidden patterns and behavior that were modelled on inequality. Instead, you have to remove them and replace them with something else that could take their place. This philosophy guided us as we created the Livsgäld world.
The second idea was based on the observation that fantasy worlds are often inherently conservative. They are worlds where uprisings are bad, where feudalism works, where power is rightfully inherited and where loyalty to authority is something noble.
They are worlds where individual bravery and vigilantism is held as the norm of heroic behavior. We wanted to challenge these concepts and show a world that worked differently from how we expected a fantasy world to work. We knew this would be a challenge for our players since we had already removed so many other familiar points from the players’ horizon of expectations and recognition, but we did not want to create a gender-equal world only to reproduce the normative, traditionally masculine traits as superior.
The third point, narrow focus, was something we’d learned from the countless fantasy games that exist out there in the more mainstream fantasy genre. Many of them present a whole fictional world for the prospective larper with nations, maps, cultures and religions all presented in short written format, easily overwhelming their players. We wanted Livsgäld to exclusively present relevant information for the players, where every piece of information was something that had an impact for the People and the experience at the larp.
Inspirations from the Nordic larp tradition were games such as Mellan himmel och hav, for a different way to construct gender and personality traits, Hemligheten, for the way it portrayed a low-key fantasy setting, and Brudpris for handling a culture of shame and invisible barriers.
There were many things that did not happen as planned or expected and there were many story elements that were identified as flawed or working in an unintended way. Even as the game came to a close, we had already learnt a lot. After the game, the players were asked to give the organizers a week of stories, a week where feedback and criticism could wait.
When this week had passed, a document was published with our the organizers’ design thoughts, containing thoughts on what had gone wrong and what could be improved, along with a feedback form for the players. We felt that this approach helped players focus on areas that we had not already reflected over.
The feedback form received answers from roughly half of the participants. The most widespread reaction which was echoed by nearly every feedback form, was that the participants had experienced a sense of leaving their own social gender behind. No longer did they feel the internal or external pressure to act their gender.
Despite of this, several individuals noted that actual behavioral patterns still conformed to those they had been taught all their lives. It is not surprising that players did not adapt entirely new patterns of behavior simply from two days gametime and a day of workshop.
However, it is noteworthy that the expectations to behave in the same ways were perceived as lacking. It was more out of comfort and habit that the players acted out their off-game gender identity, rather than a feeling of pressure or expectation.
Another common point of feedback was that the elements had felt like castes, rather than gender. There had been a lack of sexualization or the tension that exists between genders attracted to each other and they had felt like ‘roles’ in society, rather than something natural you were born to.
Many felt that a workshop for translating typically gendered behavior, like flirting, sex and attractive stereotypes, into the Livsgäld world, would have been a boon to the larp. That was, according to the players, the most difficult part of the setting.
The biggest lesson we learned was to trust in the setting and the characters to provide the content. An element was introduced early on that was meant to be kept low-key: the three foreign spirits. However, their occult nature and mystery quickly spiraled it up to the top and it became a major plot. Many players reacted as if they had to solve it, rather than use it as background material. Had we informed everyone about the element beforehand and kept its function transparent, we feel that it would have filled its function more properly.
We are glad that we created Livsgäld and in many ways, it felt like a success. However, it also felt like a game that explored relatively unknown territories and in doing that, left a lot of room for improvement.
Everything points to the fact that Livsgäld changed the way people thought about gender, if only for a little while. In this, we hope that Livsgäld can be an inspiration to others and that we will see more games exploring similar themes.
As a closing statement, here are some thoughts from one of the participants, taken from their blog post about the larp:
It was scary, in a way, to see how effectively we changed our way of thinking and behaving over a mere weekend. It showed me how easy it is to create oppression on completely arbitrary grounds, and how real those feelings provoked can be even though you know it’s just play-pretend. But most of all it gave me hope. If we could change our way of thinking and behaving so easily over such a short period of time I have no doubts about that it can be done on a much larger scale. All it takes is that most of us play along.
Credits: Kajsa Seinegård (main organizer), Simon Lindman Svensson (co-organizer), Carl Nordblom (co-organizer) and Jennie Nyberg (co-organizer)
Date: October 30 November 2, 2014
Location: Primus Vicus medieval village, outside Halmstad, Sweden
Length: 60 hours in-game, 16 hours pre-game workshop
Players: 40
Budget: ~€5,000
Participation Fee: €70 standard fee, €50 for low income participants and €90 for high income participants
Website: http://projekt-xaos.zaramis.se/
This article was initially published in The Nordic Larp Yearbook 2014 which was edited by Charles Bo Nielsen & Claus Raasted, published by Rollespilsakademiet and released as part of documentation for the Knudepunkt 2015 conference.
Cover photo: The water-gendered: soft, emotional leaders (Post-game, Frida Selvén). Other photos by Frida Selvén.
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In the end they will lay their freedom at our feet, and say to us, “ Make us your slaves, but feed us.
Last Will is a larp on the subject of a fading human dignity in a world run by money and consumption in which people can be bought and sold as commodities. The larp is set in a future where debt and poverty breeds slavery and slavery perpetuates poverty.
The larp was run by the organization Ursula, and the story was set in the gladiator-stable Jericho, with six fighter-teams as well as an administrative staff running it all. The larp depicts some twenty hours in Jericho. The trainers and the coach prepare the fighters for gladiator fights, the doctor and psychiatrist evaluate the fighters and other team members, the pleasers perform their duties towards the fighters, as do the physiotherapists while the guards make sure everyone does what they should do and only the right people slips in the showers.
All the while lives and relationships go on. Some of the people in Jericho are free workers, having contracts that allow them a salary and a little more freedom but also the risk of being let off with no further notice.
Others have signed a life contract, which gives them the security of food and a roof over their heads, but no say on almost everything else. It is the day before the national election to parliament, but only the free workers needs to decide if they should take the risk to sign up to vote or not. The lifers need not worry; they no longer have the right to vote.
Last Will revolves around hope in a hopeless situation, where the desire to create a future battle with constant fighting against fear and hunger. In a time when freedom is weighed against security and survival every day the question echoes – What is my value?
Slavery – the word makes us think about chains and whips, blood and colonialism. But the system of humans as commodities is even more widespread today, wrapped in inhuman working contracts and debt that is passed down from generation to generation. We wanted to show what losing self determination does to a person and that it can be done with a piece of paper just as much as with chains of iron.
India: The forced labour of women and girls has become known as the “Sumangali system”. It affects unmarried girls and women aged between 13 and 18 years old who work on three-year contracts, often in mills that operate 24 hours a day, using three shifts. The workers are not only required to work any shift but also to carry out unpaid overtime. The girls are confined to the mills, sleeping in hostels, during their contract period and are rarely, if ever, allowed out during that time.
We wanted to create this larp to look at modern slavery through the lens of a fictional future. We can not claim to give a true portrait of a sweatshop in China or a mine in Africa, but by taking bits and pieces from different places and putting them together in Jericho, we can give our participants a feel for what life is like when agency has been taken from you, and what it does to you when you feel that you have no value. And what it makes you do to other people. We hope that experiencing something with your whole body will make you take something home from it.
The setting of a gladiator-stable was a design choice we made to incorporate play on the loss of bodily integrity. We wanted people to sell their bodies to be used by others, for pleasure, entertainment or profit, but we didn’t want to portray a brothel.
As you read this, Last Will will have been run two times, and as we write this, we are preparing for the second run. We decided on doing a second run after the preliminary sign-up for the then only run had over a hundred people sign up in less than a week. The larp was massively hyped, and the first run sold out in only eight (8) minutes.
For the second run we used a different sign-up system than first-come-first-serve, and a hundred people signed up to let us draw lots for the 44 spots on the game. It is strange to arrange a larp with such a hype. Thrilling, but scary.
Will we be able to deliver what all these people fervently wants us to?
What exactly was it that they thought they would experience? Had they really all read the participation contract? And if so, why were they surprised when we told them that they would not get eight solid hours of sleep? The sleeping schedule was a big issue, and something we will re-design for the second run. Having two runs and an extensive questionnaire after the first run gives us this chance of re-evaluating our design choices.
Based on the questionnaire and our own evaluation, we have decided to change some things in the pre-larp workshops and post-game debrief and the above mentioned sleeping schedule, as well as little things as the amount of in-game drugs already present on the game floor at the start of the larp.
In all, we wanted people to get a feeling of how poverty deprives you of your agency. Participants telling us things like this makes us believe we came quite close to our goal:
You felt like an animal, in your head. Everything but the here and now disappeared. You were stripped of your agency and told to shut up when you had opinions. Zero discretion, zero authority. All actions were reactions. Your initiatives were very few and usually caused by something that happened in the past and had the purpose of keeping up appearances.
It was overwhelming, overpowering and scary; my first reaction was that I never wanted to expose myself to anything like that again, but when the experience settled with me a bit, I realized that it had developed me – I realized that I was actually grateful that I am free and I have a healthy and loving family. This is how Ursula really succeeded: rarely have I been so submerged in dystopia. Every little thing played its part, from the crowded gym that served as venue for the event to a clogged drain, the violence, the horrible vacuum-packed food. I felt hopelessness, like a serf and completely lost.
We have been asked why we think this larp got so hyped, and while we can think of several possible explanations for it; we had a very nice presentation package, the setting and roles intrigued many people, and we offered an intense experience without an overwhelming amount of preparations or money needed – we also got another explanation from a friend:
It was the Hardcore larp of the year, and there was a demand to fill.
To be honest we hadn’t really thought about it as hardcore ourselves when we designed it. We focused on the story we wanted to tell. We wanted our players to live and feel the horror, frustration and degradation of their roles. We did not see this as a game for everyone, nor an experience that anyone would want to have.
We did have some players that were fairly new to larping. That was not a problem, though. Like in most games of this type we put a lot of effort into introducing the players to the world, making them feel safe with each other and providing a safe space in which they could indulge in some horrible play.
What we worked for, and hope we succeed with – at least for some – was to leave an impression on our players that would help them see and think about slavery and poverty from a new perspective.
These are some snapshot images from Last Will, told by participants of the first run:
The player of Jericho’s Coach gives us a snapshot from the darktime:
I open my eyes and stare out into the darkness with eyes hurting with the lack of sleep. At the same time thoughts grind and grate. They are always the same thoughts. I am thinking about how it would be if I wasn’t in this sour sweat-musk of Jericho. I am thinking about what I would have done if I had not signed that lifetime-contract.
As always I cannot form a picture in my mind of a different kind of life and I come to the conclusion that I can’t because I have been here for so long that I have forgotten what it is like out there, in freedom. At least I am not hungry. /…/ When the lights come on and the morning buzzer sounds I am nauseous from having gotten too little sleep. The Lifer collar has made an indent into my neck and I casually scratch it as I pack away my sleeping gear.
The player of the fighter Eli tells us this story from not long after she and her teammate have been in the pit fights:
The doctors came by the Team 2 sleeping area and injected Eli and Milo with pain relieving drugs to make them able to impress during the owners’ visit, despite them having been badly beaten up and injured in the arena just hours before.The words with which this was done made it perfectly clear that Eli and Milo were regarded as no more than animals: “There’s going to be hell to pay for this later, but they’ll be fine during the visit.
Another fighter gives us a snapshot from her game:
The time before my fight was quite extraordinary, and coming back from the fight, too.You really felt like a broken star.” /…/ ”The second time the lights went out, when Mitsuki’d been walking back and forth outside the toilets to wait for the painkillers to set in, and finally went to sleep, and just lay there and stared into the ceiling, and felt that this was her entire world, her entire life. It was breathtakingly horrifying.
The player of one of the psychiatrists tells us about a memorable moment:
The rape of Ataru was incredibly strong. As I imagine a real rape in war or a concentration camp. It was so deliberate, so well planned. Not in any way about sex, just power. Ataru sat there, extremely passive, eyes staring straight down at the floor. Never said “no” or “stop” but just sat there. Silent. Motionless.
The player of Team 6’s pleaser tells us about an impression from the game:
Cleaning the shower room from blood after love interest JT6FIL’s suicide. It was horrible but also became a very private way of saying goodbye.
Credits: Frida Gamero, Annica Strand and Sofia Stenler
Date: August 15 – 17, 2014 and January 2 – 4, 2015
Location: Stockholm, Sweden
Length: 23 hours game time, 3 days total
Players: 44
Budget: ~€3,000 per run
Participation Fee: €73 regular price, €37 subsidized price
Game Mechanics: Not described.
Website: http://lastwilllarp.com/
This article was initially published in The Nordic Larp Yearbook 2014 which was edited by Charles Bo Nielsen & Claus Raasted, published by Rollespilsakademiet and released as part of documentation for the Knudepunkt 2015 conference.
Cover photo: A lifer collar with the Jericho id-code. (Post-game, Ylva Bergman). Other photos by Lisa H. Ekbom, Sofia Stenler and Annica Strand.
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Honor. Love. Patriarchy
Brudpris (Bridal Price) is set in Berge, a rural village in the fictional Mo culture. The culture of Mo is inspired by Nordic rural 19th century aesthetics. They live isolated from the outside world according to their strict patriarchal honor culture.
The culture of Mo requires every adult person to show control and restriction. Mo believe women carry a potentially dangerous force inside them – the Force of Life. If harnessed, this power will grant them children and allow the Mo people to live on. However, if women are not controlled by the men of Mo, the Mo people believe this power will destroy their land in a blaze of fire and chaos. The chaos within every woman can be stronger or weaker, but it is always there. Therefore, every woman must be the responsibility of an adult man, who will make sure her behaviour doesn’t endanger Mo.
The story in Brudpris revolves around the young boys and girls who are ready to leave the relative freedom of childhood behind and step into their respective roles as adults. Their fathers will find suitable partners for them, and every young woman will be married to a man who, from then onwards will be responsible for her. For the girls, this means an end to freedom; for the boys, the beginning of a crushing responsibility.
The original idea for Brudpris was to ‘turn up the volume’ on real world gender roles to make visible social norms and cultural practices we rarely notice in our real lives or would attribute to our own culture.
We chose the Nordic historical inspired setting to avoid creating an ‘otherfication’ effect. Had we, for example, chosen to set the larp in a setting close to what we as westerners consider to be ‘typical honor culture’ countries, we would not only have had severe problems navigating some cultural appropriation dilemmas, but also risked making it look like “these people are not like us” – which was the opposite of what we wanted.
Katrin is shaking after the forgiving-ritual. Hilda leads her beloved little sister into their tent where Katrin breaks down and starts crying. Hilda holds her and feels her own tears burning behind her eyelids, but she does not cry, just comforts her sister and dries her tears.
You did so wellsays Hilda,You did not cry out there where others could have seen!She corrects her sister’s head scarf and gives her a smile before they exit the tent again. Hilda walks with a straight back. She is a woman of Mo.
The meal is finished. The wife, Runa, says:
Tonight is the last night we dine together as a family.The sky, the moon and the heavens fall on Lars. But instead of showing this, he asks:Does anybody want some more water?Each member of his family replies with a nod. No words. No tears. It simply isn’t done in public in this family. They seek each other’s eyes, giving hints of their true feelings behind the facade. Still, the time they have left together isn’t enough. Not even close. Lars remembers he must get more water: Empty glasses look bad. He rises and imagines how his heart is left on the floor when he walks away. To feel and not allow yourself to show it. To love and not be allowed to say it.
For the people of Mo, living a respectable and good life is about control and order. The patriarchs of the families are the carriers of both their own and their family’s honor. Everything their family members do will reflect on them. Most families have a little more leeway in private, away from the eyes of others. Internal struggles are common, but no family would willingly expose these problems to others.
Another design challenge was explaining and using honor as a design feature. Although most are familiar with the term honor culture, we knew that the full meaning of honor, and the impact it has, would be hard to communicate to the players. For this reason we chose to create a religious explanation as to why women had to be controlled and why men had to take responsibility for them. This was the Force of Life. It gave a reason why it was important to control women’s behaviour. As a natural consequence, women in this culture had the sexual initiative, since men were expected to control both their own and their wife’s sexual drive.
We also wanted to make clear that the honor culture of Mo was not a matter of personal choice or preference for the characters. It was integrated in every aspect of life, and going against the cultural norm would ha ve severe social consequences. Brudpris is chamber drama where the family unit is the focus of everyone’s play. Every family has secrets that can cause a public scandal if they are revealed. The feeling of constant pressure is kept by making public outbursts costly for everyone involved. Public scandals always have severe consequences. And if it is a woman who shames her husband, father or brother, she might be beaten publicly. Or in the worst case even killed.
The men watched each other, or they believed the other men watched them. At no point could a man show his true feelings or show any sign of weakness without losing face in front of his peers. For me, this was one of the hardest parts: To be forced to do terrible things, while not being allowed to share it with anyone in Mo. In the game setting, this was normal and part of the responsibility of being a man.
The Keips are the third gender of the Mo culture, recruited from boys who either fails the manhood test, or who don’t want to become men. The Keips are the only ones who can talk freely to anyone they wish; they play a key part in making the Mo culture function as a whole, crossing the social and cultural firewalls between men and women.
This culture makes for a slow and quiet gameplay. Players rarely show ‘big’ emotions; the drama is played out with discreet gestures instead of obvious ones. Things are said with gazes, a discreet touch, a mumbled word of comfort, a quiet tear that is quickly wiped away.
It was a terrible experience on many levels, this was really the quintessential nordic larp self-traumatizing emotional masochism that we all love and celebrate. But not a gratuitous one, like many strong games it had a basis in reality, that crept up on you afterwards and made you realize new things about people in the world.
Forgive us. You had no way of changing your life. For your sake – and mine – I will make my own life different.
You are just 34 years old and have many more years to live. I’m also 34, but my life is vastly different from yours and I will not let it go to waste.The only thing I want to keep with me from your life, is how your lust was so simple and powerful. It was probably the only positive thing about Mo. I will not be ashamed or let the culture – my culture, in the real world – turn me into a sexual object.
Some larp experiences you carry with you as not just a memory, but physically in your body. For me that is what happened after Brudpris. My character Hilda was a young woman. She was mature for her age and perfectly adapted to the violent honor culture she had grown up in.
It was easy, comfortable even, to slip into her subdued body language and thought patterns. It was like an amplified version of my own teenage insecurities. And after the larp I felt that it was hard to move quickly and act out; my mind had also been partly absorbed by her. I still can’t feel hatred towards the men who mistreated her, I just feel love.
Love because the violence was proof that she was loved and cared for. A Stockholm Syndrome so strong, it still lingers long after the larp is over.
And yet, that alluring lack of responsibility for my choices, that wish to be carried, that fear of talking and laughing too much, all resurfaced in you and moved you to give up everything.
I wish it all had come from you (Beatrice) – because I certainly didn’t want to find that in me. I’m sorry.
We can’t be sure if this is the first game designed with honor as its main design feature, but we can tell that we sure didn’t have many examples to look at. We wondered at several instances if this larp was playable at all, or if the extreme imbalance in player agency would make it entirely dysfunctional. Regardless, we knew the game would put pressure on both the male and female cast.
We wanted the (players who played) men to be powerful, and the (players who played) women to be close to powerless. Still, one must not believe we designed this game only for misery. We wanted to balance the horror and injustice by adding love, desire, affection, music and dancing. We wanted characters and families to feel relatable, like real people.
Brudpris is a game that will stay with us a long time. Seen from our eyes as organizers, it was both gut-wrenchingly sorrowful and soberly beautiful, horribly cruel and heartwarmingly human. And although we put as much dedication as we could into the game design and preparations, it is the players who made the vision come to life.Their dedication to this game, their characters and each other have been complete. It is by far the best reward a larp organizer can get.
Credits: Anna-Karin, Carolina Dahl- berg, Tor Kjetil Edland (producer) and Trine Lise Lindahl (producer)
Date: September 17 – 21, 2014
Location: Vestmarka, Norway
Length: 3 days
Players: 50
Budget: €6,000
Participation Fee: €110 (normal) €75 (youth)
Game Mechanics: Minimal. In-game cultural rules.
Website: http://brudpris.wordpress.com
This article was initially published in The Nordic Larp Yearbook 2014 which was edited by Charles Bo Nielsen & Claus Raasted, published by Rollespilsakademiet and released as part of documentation for the Knudepunkt 2015 conference.
Cover photo: Jan and Eskil in a conversation (Play, Simon Svensson). Other photos by Simon Svensson and Anna-Karin Linder Krauklis.
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Mare Incognitum was a Swedish Lovecraftian horror larp set on a ship (familiar to visitors to Monitor Celestra) in the 1950s. It was organized by Berättelsefrämjandet and had 78 players, spread over three runs, from Sweden, Norway, Denmark, Finland, Estonia, Spain, UK and the US. All three runs were held during the weekend of 28-30 November, 2014.
Photographer Jonas Aronsson took some great photos during and before the larp and we got his permission to publish a few of them here:
You can see the rest of the photos in Jonas Facebook gallery:
https://www.facebook.com/yonazarith/media_set?set=a.10152576129364506.1073741862.590469505&type=1
You can read more about Mare Incognitum at the larps website:
http://iäiä.se/
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Kristin Nilsdotter Isaksson has written an article, translated from Swedish by Charlie Charlotta Haldén, on the ongoing discussions about sexual assault within the Swedish larp community.
On June 17, 2014, a new Facebook group was created for Swedish-speaking larpers who identify wholly or partially as women. The idea was to create a sanctuary for discussions about different aspects of being a female larper. Small questions, big questions, and questions of vital importance.
Lately, a darker subject has crept into the discussion threads, and during the past few weeks, a tsunami of voices has swept over us. Post after post, comment after comment, telling stories of painful experiences. We’re talking about sexual assault. At larps, or in larping circles. Over a thousand posts detailing experiences, sharing thoughts, discussing preventive measures, and not least, holding out hands in support.
”It’s so important that we talk about our experiences. About how common this is, and that it’s not OK. About our right to say no, and that it’s never, ever, acceptable for someone not to listen. Everybody knows a victim, but nobody knows a perpetrator, and it’s time to take a stand now.” (anonymous)
You can read the complete article over at Spelkult:
http://spelkult.se/testimonies/
The article got a lot of attention in the swedsh LARP-society and also outside, with a interview in Swedish radio. There is a lot of discussions going on and preventive arrangements from organizers and fellow larpers to immediate stop this kind of acts.
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A journey through horror, steampunk and mystery
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.
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.
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.
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.
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).
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.
All photos in this article are by Ida Mary Walker Larsen.
You can find an in-game short story from Clockbottom by the author of this article, Emma Ström, here:
http://goo.gl/8IfJX5
Written by
Disclaimer: The opinions expressed herein are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the official
policy or position of Nordiclarp.org or any larp community at large.
Editors note: This is a reply to the opinion piece by Sanne Harder titled “The Law of Jante in Nordic
Role-playing” that ran on Nordiclarp.org on 11 July 2014.
I read Sanne Harders text about “good role-playing” with great interest. Harder pinpoints some very important issues
within the Nordic larp scene. Status and nepotism are indeed present, though we perceive ourselves as open minded and
egalitarian. We are absolutely lacking a discussion about “what makes a good role-player” and how to improve ourselves.
I will however argue that discussion must have different premises than the ones Harder suggests.
How can the good larpers help the Nordic larp scene as a whole?
There are problems
within the Nordic larp arena concerning the perceived equality. Questions about accessibility, equality and everyone’s
right to feel welcome and getting the support one needs (regardless of gender, ethnicity, sexuality, ableness etc, not
to forget previous experience or lack there of). This of course overlaps questions such as “what makes a good larper”. A
non willingness to address questions about what makes “a good larper” can conceal underlying structural problems
concerning status. Status among larpers and status concerning different genres. Believe me, as a player and producer of
Vampire larps, somewhat perceived as the larping
equivalent of Harlequin novels, I have some experience in the matter. But let’s focus on the text itself. What problems
are determined, what is the solution and – of course – what is a good larper? And how can the good larpers help the
Nordic larp scene as a whole?
“The Law of Jante”, I would say, is one of the most misleading descriptions of scandinavian
collectivistic culture.
To pinpoint the essence of the problem Harder exemplifies with “The Law of Jante”.
“The Law of Jante” (established by danish-norwegian author Aksel
Sandemose), I would say, is one of the most misleading descriptions of scandinavian collectivistic culture. The
premise is highly individualistic – the collective holds back and shames any individual that outshines, or threatens to
do so, any other member in the collective. For instance the 6th law of Jante is – “You’re not to think you are more
important than we are”. Well, guess what – I couldn’t agree more. Nobody is more important than anyone else. I do
believe this sentence should pervade every larp. Even if you are an outstanding larper (I will address this question
later on) your experience and your presence is not more important than anyone else. An “anti-Jante-approach” to larping
would be somewhat dangerous or at least counterproductive. Do we want larpers to strive after outshining each other? To
teach them that talent makes you more important than others?
Harder also exemplifies with a stereotypical (and yes, I absolutely agree, highly recognizable) character; the
Gamemaster of Doom. A big problem seems to be letting newbies have their first experience lead by such a person, risking
scaring them off. But what about the Gamemaster her/himself? Who should she/he play with? How should she/he become a
better player/gamemaster? I don’t see how “rescuing” newbies from this horrible first experience benefits the larp scene
as a whole. Simply because the larp scene is a collective. Simply because elitism and focus on individuals will always
be somewhat excluding.
Let me be crystal clear. Opposing elitism does not mean avoiding boosting each other or acknowledging talent. It means
that a talented person (in one particular area) is not more important than a non-talented person. It does not mean not
acknowledging people’s safety concerning questions about gender, ethnicity, sexuality or ableness. What it means is that
no person is more important than another because of talent.
A good experience starts long before the larp itself – making props, building the group, making
people feel welcome and safe, taking care of possible conflicts, communicating and inspiring people.
So what
makes a good larper? I will address two issues here. The authors focus is individual talent, acting especially. It seems
like the author means that a good larper enters a group and inspires them with formidable acting. But first of all;
larping is not about acting, not only. A good experience starts long before the larp itself – making props, building
the group, making people feel welcome and safe, taking care of possible conflicts, communicating and inspiring people.
Not by outshining them, but by making the experience interesting and of course somewhat challenging on a personal level.
This demands a whole set of different talents – logistics, a bit of leadership, communication, craftsmanship, writing,
composing, creativity, social skills and – this is important – the ability to step back and let other people into the
limelight. Not everyone can possess all qualities, but everyone can possess one or a few, which are equally important
and – of course – should be boosted and verified.
A focus on the acting part of larping also makes a rather narrow path to walk on the way of improving. A path demanding
talents that not all players have to begin with. Hence arguing good acting makes a good larper is somewhat excluding.
But once again, there are so many other qualities that benefits the group, should we choose to change our focus. And I
believe we should. Because, second:
Larping is namely not individualistic, it´s collectivistic. Larping is not a tabletop RPG; the “good larper” being the
equivalent of the hero/PC and the “not so good larpers” the NPCs. Every players experience is equally important, some
needing more boost and guiding, others quite self sufficient, and some very experienced and/or talented can help and
push their fellow players.
The good role-player’s focus is one the group, not on her/himself.
The players I have
encountered that I would describe as good role-players are the ones that makes the inexperienced player feel more
confident, the ones that easily can take over an entire scene but takes a step back and boosts the quite wallflower to
take the lead, the ones that make people solve problems, challenge themselves and step out of their comfort zones. I
would argue a good larper builds the group, facilitating other players, plays in a giving, generous and not self
centered manner. The good role-player’s focus is one the group, not on her/himself.
I do agree that “leading by example” is not a bad thing. I do agree this is a discussion we should have to improve
ourselves as players and producers. I do agree that recruiting “good larpers” can lift an arrangement or a group, but
not by making it a “one man show”. It`s all about the group. Discussions about what makes a good larper and how to use
the good larpers to inspire and challenge other players are more than welcome. But if so I do believe the premises must
be larp as a group effort where nobody is more important than anyone else, where nobody is excluded due to lack of
talent. Not even the Gamemaster of Doom.
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Swedish larp organizer group Berättelsefrämjandet will run a retreat for larp writers in early June:
We want to gather creators, critics and scholars of larp for an extended weekend of gaining insight and inspiration to create better larps. We will discuss, reflect on and produce larp ideas in an organized manner.
The retreat starts Thursday afternoon 5 June and ends after lunch 8 June 2014. It will cost around 900 SEK (€100) including lodging, food, materials and transportation from and to the nearest bus stop. It will be held in a cabin near Gothenburg, Sweden.
Read more and sign up on the website:
http://beratta.org/retreat/
