We're multiple sessions into this campaign now. I've recently started recording them and editing the audio and will post them here as time allows.

If you're hoping to listen to the campaign from start to finish, unfortunately I didn't start recording until the second "chapter" of the book, so you're going to miss out on some of the backstory. I also haven't posted about the first two scenarios I ran for this group of characters - one, of my own creation, was a starter story that placed them against a fledgling cult of worshippers of The Black Goat of the Woods set in Sicily; the second was Naufractus, another intro story that took them on board ship from Sicily back towards Rome - until they became shipwrecked and came across a brood of Deep One hybrids and a Harpy who attempted to make them a permanent fixture on the island.

I've split the audio into shorter chunks for digestible listening. The first session is split into three pieces, and the second session into two. I'm using Audacity to do the editing and I'm recording the sessions with my HTC smartphone using an app called "Easy Voice Recorder Free." I'm surprised at the audio quality - it's not perfect, but it's not faint or grainy (at least to my ear). I hope it's listenable.

This is a Cthulhu Invictus campaign for Call of Cthulhu that I've recently started running. We're about 6 sessions into the campaign, which I'll eventually try to summarize thus far.

We spent the first session rolling up characters and they all designed their character histories together, so that they had a reason to be with each other from the get-go. I also gave them a background that they were somehow involved with a Patrician's household - he is the Patron for several of the players, and has an interest in things occult and historical, providing further background and motivation. 

• Gaius Tullius Lucinus - Senatore of Rome - Aged 55, the patron, ex-soldier, wears an eye patch, known as a ‘wealthy collector of books and antiquities’. Tullius trades in exotic foods and works of art as well as antiquities.
• Tullia Lucina - Aged 25, eldest daughter of Lucinus, runs the household, unmarried. An ally of the players. Friend (with benefits?) of Herminia.
• Claudia Octavia - Deceased wife of Lucinus.
• Tullius Blandus- Son of Lucinus. He’s mean, and didn’t make much of a name for himself in the army. Not incompetent, but leaves the running of the household to his sister.
• TBD - Daughter-in-law of Lucinus. Wife of Blandus. Something of an ally to the players.
• Servius Hortensius Pictor - Aged 65, Equites of Rome - librarian and counselor, aide to Lucinus.
• Khasekhemwy - Aged 75, Egyptian scholar who puts the household in a tizzy when he visits. An old friend of Lucinus ‘from the wars.’

My good friend, a Happy New Year to you and hope that this missive finds you in good health and prosperity. I must however, report, that I am not doing so well.

Several nights ago, I was to attend a premier showing of The Whisperer in Darkness at a local cinema. Beforehand, drinks were served at a colleague's house. After the showing (which I shall not go into at this time, but let it be said that it was enjoyed) the following were served. I should have known that this was a bad omen:



Afterwards, I returned home to find a package on my doorstep. Opening it, there were two letters (one of which had already been ripped open) and a small box. The first of the letters, printed in a modern typeface and addressed to me, was from a Swiss bank:



I folded open the letter, which was marked with the following strange symbol:



The letter itself described the contents as being an item deposited in the vaults of the bank in October 1924, and left to me in the will of Charles Tower:



As the box was marked "Open letter first!" I did so, noting that it was postmarked Nov. 3, 1920, in Manila, Phillipines; and that it was on the stationery of The Strand Hotel:





Within were a number of mysterious pencil drawings as well as a long letter:





I will not detail the contents of the letter, except to say that the writer insisted that the contents of the box be secured somewhere far away from any Ocean or large body of water; in my excitement, I put aside the letter before reading it and tore open the box, my curiosity getting the better of me:



Within was a red cloth, tied with twine, and holding what felt like smooth stones. As soon as I laid eyes on the sack, I felt a sickening feeling in my stomach. The stones did not so much *stink* as exude some un-seeable but definite aura of WRONGNESS. I carried on with undoing the twine, and opening the cloth. Within were five smooth, black stones:



I reached out a hand to turn them over. As soon as I touched one, I knew I had made a terrible mistake.





The carvings on the stones burn in my mind at night now. I am unable to sleep. I feel a desperate, un-knownable longing now...in my dreams, I hear the crashing of waves, the smell of salt water stinging my lungs. I wake with a start, and on the following day am unable to function, obsessed with the stones. I will continue to document these strange dreams over the coming nights, in hopes that you may make some sense of them. In the meantime, I remain

Yours,
Gladius

I am in the midst of struggling with a mechanical game design for a live action roleplaying game. It's a horror game, and I want it to be about psychological horror; but coming from an action-oriented (e.g., boffer) LARP background, I also want it to involve puzzle-solving, physical interaction, and occasional physical conflict. I want players to come into conflict with each other, but I don't want that to be all the game is about. The game should pose the primary obstacle to the players, provide the primary antagonist, create the structure for the conflict, but allow the players to have interpersonal conflicts and even allow for occasional player-versus-player combat.

The LARP I've been a part of for 25 years is of the controlled, directed, high-production style: a pre-written narrative; actors playing numerous NPC roles; a producer setting up a game course with (often intricate) props, structures and physical locations; multiple, pre-formed teams of player-characters going on the same adventure (one team after another, perhaps an hour apart, we might run 4 or 5 teams of 6-8 PCs through the module in a single day), facing off versus baddies; and so on. The rules of that system are very number-based and action-oriented: while there are both conflict and non-conflict skills, most of the non-conflict skills revolve around specific game mechanics (learning information about an item that's written in a game design document, picking a lock, finding a direction towards a target) rather than about roleplaying interactions. There are very few skills like "lie to someone convincingly" or "embarass someone," probably because it's very hard to standardize this sort of roleplaying effect for a mass audience - what exactly is the effect of being embarassed? Why would I use such a skill when I could just run my sword through her gut?

As a result, the culture within this LARP has evolved in a very numbers-centric way: it's all about the points, and how much damage you can swing, and which magic items you have that allow you to do more things. Player vs NPC conflicts almost always devolve into sword or spell fights. Number inflation is rampant, as players don't want their characters to die quickly or easily in a game. Create your own character, get to level 6 as fast as you can in order to get the "really good" skills. Game designers react by making games "tougher" by adding encounters that drain players of their resources, and yet there always seem to be characters who can stand up to anything a game can throw at them. It's a never ending cycle.

In this system, players rarely come into conflict with each other, perhaps because of the pre-formed team format (in fact, a game designer can run his game with something called the PC Rule of Fairness: "Any player-initiated detrimental action taken against another player can be negated by that player if he so wishes"). A team that focuses on fighting with each other won't succeed at the bigger game, so players typically unite against the game - often to the detriment of roleplaying. Players want to "win" the game, and compare war stories about how much more quickly they took out the BBG (big bad guy) compared to the team that started on course an hour after them. It's this "us vs the game" mentality that, I think, has lead to the rules system developing in the manner that it has over 30 years.

Contrast this with other types of LARP, for example convention LARPs where each player is given a pre-generated character, and they are all thrown in a room together, often with conflicting goals, sometimes with no NPCs and very few external events influencing the outcome of the game. These games are often more about the story of the characters interacting with each other, which some overarching structure: e.g., there's an auction, and each player wants something different (and often conflicting with other players' goals). While their skill systems may have mechanical effects, since the game is more about the "story," I believe these systems often emphasize role-playing effects more so than the boffer LARP I've described above. To use an example from a "parlour LARP" I recently played in, my character was able to do a humiliating slap to another player, that, while functionally debilitating to the target, was realized not as physical damage but as a social or psychological effect. The cheek was left stinging, but it was the pride that really hurt.

Many of these games are about inter-personal conflict. Some of this has to do with the amount of time and physical resources available for setup and play, requiring fewer props and less space than in one of the boffer-LARP settings, and convention games often take place in a location where advanced setup is not feasible.

Perhaps they appeal to different player types. The boffer LARP can be played with zero roleplaying - if you just want to fight, it's possible to get through some games without interacting in any meaningful (roleplaying) way with NPCs or even other players on your team. In contrast, the parlour LARP requires you to constantly interact and roleplay with others, because the majority of the game is about these interactions. Sure, there have been great roleplaying moments in the boffer game, and I'm sure there are amazing props and puzzles in some parlour/con games as well. But I (personally) haven't seen a LARP horror rules set that balances the two. The boffer system seems to encourage the game to evolve in one direction - towards bonking others on the head, towards using skills to overcome challenges that are specifically designed to be solved by skills in the rules book, towards number-crunching and power-mongering. Meanwhile, it seems to me that the parlour LARP rules mechanics lack tactical depth, so the conflicts become focused on psychological interactions.

I'm looking to create something that's balanced between the two. It's really hard to actually scare people, and roleplaying being scared all the time isn't very fun - there needs to be some physical interaction, some puzzle interaction, some "figure out the mystery" as well as "act out your character's story". For me, the attraction to a LARP is that I have to physically perform my actions, and often overcome physical challenges. I want a rules system that will appeal to both camps and form a structure that will enhance both aspects of the activity; a game that allows you to have a deep character with interesting interactions with other players, but also use your own physical and mental skills to overcome real challenges; to figure out puzzles, have meaningful in-character conversations and conflicts, but also have the occasional gunfight against cultists (shooting a Great Old One should not be a viable option, but that's another discussion entirely) and crawl, hands-and-knees, though (black plastic) sewers infested with (foam and latex) Deep Ones.

To a point, I think that the action-oriented style of gameplay may appeal to a broadly wider audience. After all, the whole reason you're doing a LARP rather than just playing in a tabletop game is that you want to get up, move around, and interact with others (whether it's verbally or physically). It's easier for most gamers to pick up a foam sword and swing it than to play a role, although to do either *well* and *effectively* requires skill and practice. Some of this may be that the gamer culture has a much broader "D&D" base than it has a "Storytelling" base.

Really, this isn't even about LARP rules systems - any system informs and leaves its impression on the style of play. Trail of Cthulhu makes the distinction between Pulp (action-packed) and Purist (intellectual) styles. While that's more of a thematic difference than a mechanical one (although Purist caps character stats and forbids restoration of SAN). But very clearly 4th Edition has mechanics that encourage and enable combat (and, even more specifically, miniature-based combat) more so than it encourages and enables roleplaying.

Thus it's important that a horror LARP rules system doesn't push players solely in one direction or the other. Rather, it should support and encourage both types of interaction. How, then, to do that? What kinds of skills encourage interpersonal interactions in a way that has tactical meaning? How can the rules reinforce roleplaying just as much as you reinforce shooting a gun or picking a lock?

Sadly, I've never had the energy to work, keep up with the campaign, and then blog about it after the fact in the last 6 months.

After a 17 months of biweekly play, my group finally finished DotB in a marathon two-sessions-in-one-week blast. We finished up at 1am last night. Here's a recap that one of the players sent out this morning:

<> 3 Investigators Indefinitely Insane:
   Mark, Jamie, Carson
 
<> 3 Investigators Killed:
   Nicholas, Nevil, Madam Z
 
<> 3 Investigators Seriously Wounded:
   Carson, Faith, Evelyn
 
<> 2 Ancient Wizards Killed:
   Lung Fu, Baron H
 
<> 1 Possessed Business Mogul Killed:
   Edward Chandler
 
<> 1 Major Plot to destroy the world foiled:
   Summon the Beast
 
<> 1 deity summoned by investigators:
   Cthugha
 
<> Number of Dirigible Destroyed:
   1
 
<> Number of Brandon's characters shot by Bill's:
   3
 
<> 1 man left standing!:
   Andrew
 
<> Great time had:
   By all!

The investigators woke to find that the events of the previous evening were not, in fact, a bad dream. Jamie, having recovered his wits (or at least arranged his psychoses into an internally consistent way to save his mind from crumbling, began to dissect the beast and take notes. The others, excited by the discovery of the tomb, proceeded with the digging. Shortly, Prof. Galloway arrived with the camel train and the rest of the diggers.

Several days passed during which more of the tomb entrance was revealed. Eventually the first chamber was revealed, a broken seal showing that the tomb had been raided at some time in the past. Unknown to the investigators, though, it was not millenia ago but only 30 or 40 years.

I had created a mental challenge for the party at this point: I found a logic puzzle and converted it to an egyptian theme. Ten cartouches, broken in half, lay scattered about the floor, with five slots in the wall. In heiroglyphics on the wall was the following depiction:

"At the end of time, the Outer Gods created a gate to leave their universe. Azathoth praised the Lurker at the Threshold before they and three others passed through the gate from beyond. The gate was sealed by the last of the gods as he passed through it."
 

1. Yog-Sothoth preceded the Render of the Veils, but was not the first to enter the gate.
   
2. Tulzcha ascended before The Dark, but entered after the Lurker at the Threshold.
   
3. Daoloth preceded Abhoth and Tulzcha, but was not the first to leave.
   
4. The Render of the Veils preceded The Green Flame, but left after the Demon Sultan.
   
5. The Green Flame did not close the gate.

After Evelyn deciphered the fragments, they pieced them together. Mark's claustrophobia kept him outside, and his paranoia kept him from helping the others. He rigged a jerry can of gasoline from the half-track with a fuse as a bomb, and waited outside the tomb entrance.

Meanwhile, in the tomb, the others had noted a slab of stone in the ceiling above the puzzle. Suspecting the worst, they jammed some beams and scaffolding under it. Having solved the puzzle, five of them each took a two halves of a cartouche, joined them together, and stood ready to slide them into place. On the count of three they pushed them into place. With a terrible grating noise, the slab in the ceiling was released from its millenia-old entrapment - they had done something wrong.

{In reality, my intention was that they should place the cartouches, one by one, into their slots in the order that was described in the puzzle. But I didn't want to punish them too severely for something that was not very clear - and I hadn't expected 5 of them to line up under the trap. Not wanting a TPK at this point, I decided that the poles they had jammed into the ceiling, plus the thousands of years of time, caused the slab to jam slightly. I had them all make DEX checks, and those who made it escaped unscathed. The others took some minor amount of damage.}

In the collapse, part of the wall leading into the rest of the tomb was demolished. They made their way down a long hallway, flanked on each side by twin sarcophagi. Galloway, McFarland and Katif, the leader of the diggers, went with them. Noting that the coffins were sealed with a strange green wax, but intent on the tomb, they pulled open the doors to the burial chamber.

From behind them, the grinding of stone on stone resounded through the hallway. In the dim light of their flashlights they turned to see the forms of two mummies, wrapped in ancient linens, but with the heads of crocodiles, shamble towards them.

They made the near-fatal decision to retreat into the tomb, much to Katif's delight. Accustomed to their firearms having effect on their enemies, they began to shoot at the creatures, only to find their bullets ineffective. One by one the mummies struck them down. Katif snuck behind them and grabbed the scrolls of the table by Nophru-Ka's sarcophagus. Andrew, the psychologist, had retreated behind the rest and noted this action. He then saw Katif mumble something under his breath and make a complicated series of gestures with his hands.

Mark, unclear of what was happening inside the tomb and his paranoia rising, began to fire into the hallway, certain that his crazed companions were summoning another beast. Luckily, in the darkness and with a shaky hand, he missed any targets.

Evelyn, Faith, and Carson had all fallen to the mummies. Madame Z, Jamie, and Evelyn were desperate. The only objects at hand were the canopic jars and the small wooden table. Various artifacts were hurled at the mummies, much to Evelyn's horror. Table legs were broken off and used as clubs. In the chaos of his companions falling under the mummy's asssault, Andrew shot Katif in the back, as the last of the mummies was kicked into oblivion by Madame Z.

Emerging from the darkness, Andrew and Madame Z dragged their unconscious companions from the tomb. After bandaging them and tending to their wounds as best they could, the workers helped them to their tents. Later, Andrew went back and burned the mummies and Katif's body, concoting a story that Katif had been slain by the mummies.

In the following days, they nursed their wounds and eventually took what they could from the tomb, discovering that Katif had, in his tent, the rest of their important belongings that had been stolen from them by the Bedouins. Eventually they travelled back to Cairo, where they rested for several weeks until they were well enough to travel back to Boston.

Two investigators went indefinitely insane during the hunting horror's attack: Jamie Buchanan, the anatomist, and Mark Anderson, the mechanic. I gave them the option to come up with their own insanities, but in the end gave them the following suggestions.

Mark Anderson
Paranoid Schizophrenia - The sufferer lives in his own private world of well-constructed meaning. All events are linked together by some single unseen cause. Investigators who tell all they know about the Mythos to unbelieving spectators are often diagnosed as Schizophrenics. Essentially he has become convinced that EVERYTHING is a conspiracy, that everything is connected to the Brotherhood, that the other players are cultists or members of the Brotherhood - Faith is really a sorceress, Carson clearly is working for Carrington, who must be in on it, Andrew's drugs are mind-altering substances meant to brainwash, that Madame Z's tarot cards are really powerful magic, Jamie is an evil murdering physician, etc. Mark can still think logically, talk, and function to an extent, but only to the extent that he is watching the others to catch them in the act and reveal their connections to the Brotherhood. All that they do is meant to further the cause of the Brotherhood. In fact, all that ANYONE does is. But you mustn't let them know that you know.

The effect needs to be detrimental. I want you to be able to contribute, to an extent, to the team and adventure, but your character is so deeply affected by the events that he fears for his life. His actions should reflect this. He can still use skills and knowledge, but should be suspicious of anything the others ask of him.

Jamie Buchanan
Jamie believes he's the best surgeon/anatomist in the world. His past "projects" prove this. He will become the most famous and world-renowned anatomist after he presents his findings in the dissection of the previous beast, and now will wish to immediately dissect this new creature. His past murders are only evidence of his expertise. It doesn't matter now if others know he was responsible for them - in fact, they are just evidence of his perfection and proficiency. They were just a lead-up to his greatest work - practice,  if you will. The homeless man in Boston, the Chinese prostitute, even the Arab youth on the boat - and others before them, in Boston and in Scotland - all practice and evidence of the genius to come.

Once he publishes his next work - Buchanan's Anatomy of Extra-Terrene Creatures - he will be the new Gray. Students will flock to him to learn his techniques. Doctors will admire him. Women will adore him. And of course, everyone else can clearly see how good he is.

He's already got criminal psychosis. The latest events have unlocked a deep-seated Megalomania in him. He will boast about his previous murders - probably in an exaggerated way that makes the others doubt the veracity of his claims - after all, he's insane - but with enough tidbits of truth to make them wonder. If he should relocate the eyeball rosary, there is no need to hide it. He has no reluctance about talking about the beasts and creatures he's seen. If other scoff or disbelieve, it's no matter to him, he knows they are real.

He'll still be playable, to an extent, but driven by an overwhelming desire to exercise his anatomical expertise, let others know about it. Everything he does should be about proving his expertise, finding more samples to dissect, and ultimately writing and publishing his book. To that extent, you should be useful to the party if it leads to your goals. Otherwise you are fairly useless to them. You won't have any fear, but you won't put your own life in danger - on the other hand, you won't hesitate to convince, coerce, or otherwise get others to do the dirty work for you.