| Losing Sanity Steve Hatherley (published in The Unspeakable Oath #14/15) Organising the Convulsion 94 tournament was, for most of the time, a whole heap of fun. Perhaps the worst bit was actually writing the damn scenario itself. However, figuring that nobody would be publishing this two-part epic, I let everything hang much looser than I would were I writing for, say, Pagan Publishing. Statistics were thrown out of the window (I hate writing them - and nobody complained, or even commented!), useless comments bandied about and I took a lazy attitude to anything that bored me. Amid this heresy, I left in the Sanity losses for the assorted grisly events that peppered the adventure. You know the sort of thing: "Her head explodes in a bloody pulp of brains, bone and hair - lose 1/1D6 SAN." It feels so natural; part of the language that is Call of Cthulhu. Anyway, I had not paid much attention to these (as when I run a game I tend to throw SAN out with everything else) until one of the playtesters commented that the SAN losses for the scenario were rather extreme. Apparently one investigator finished the adventure with a single-figure SAN score, which pleased me no end. But yes, I saw the problem - I wanted the investigators to finish the tournament, after all. So I trimmed the SAN losses by a few points here and there, enough to make the tournament playable, but it set me thinking about the viability of the whole Sanity mechanic. I have already admitted that I rarely use it - but why? According to the rules, a character's Sanity represents his mental strength. The lower his Sanity, the more unstable he is. That's fine in theory - but unfortunately, that's all it is: a theory. The reality of the SAN roll is that it gets in the way. It gets in the way of a good story, and it gets in the way of the atmosphere. It doesn't really represent mental strength because, except when you need to make a SAN roll, it doesn't actually do anything. Instead, all Sanity does is provide keepers with another way of incapacitating investigators. Great Cthulhu need not be the gross, invulnerable entity it is made out to be: that 1D10/1D100 SAN loss is sufficient to keep it alive almost indefinitely. This has lead to Call of Cthulhu becoming known as "the game where everyone dies or goes insane." While some notoriety is good for a horror game, in this case it is more of a curse than a blessing. For several reasons. First, it deters new players. I'm not talking about people new to RPGs (who, fortunately, can often be suckered into playing), but those with just enough knowledge to be put off. Other games put the players into heroic roles where "winning" means getting all the glory. As we all know, Call of Cthulhu does not work like that. Unfortunately, the fact that there is a specific mechanic to drive investigators insane puts some people off. Second, going insane ruins play. Temporary insanity is bad enough, but permanent insanity is no better than character death. In cold, hard terms a failed SAN roll means that a player is excluded from the game - just when it gets interesting. It means the introduction of another new character, in campaigns where character turnover may also be considered too high. This is an extreme result for a couple of rolls of the dice - something that the player has almost no control over. However, the worst flaw with the Sanity rules (and this really is a cardinal sin) is that they spoil the horror of the moment. Just when things are getting exciting, when the putrescent mass of rotting flesh lurches from the shadows to rip the policeman's head from his shoulders, we are supposed to stop and check the investigators' Sanity. The players are torn from the evocative description, the scene, and the atmosphere and instead their attention turns toward the dice and character sheets. A few minutes later, a few Sanity points less and the action resumes. But - the moment has been lost. The horror, which the keeper has spent the last twenty minutes building up to, has been wasted. The player's attention has been diverted by a clunky mechanic, reminding them they are only playing a game. As Sandy Petersen wrote in the Convulsion 94 programme book, "THE HORROR'S THE THING" (his capitals). Nothing in Call of Cthulhu is more important than horror. Remaining faithful to Lovecraft, having accurate weapon statistics, an accurately detailed background: these are all second to scaring the shit out of the players. And, as nice as the Sanity rules appear on paper, they really screw up any attempt at horror. Things proceed from bad to worse if any of the investigators actually fail a Sanity check. The table of insanities and phobias appears, and we are inevitably treated to a display of comedy-roleplaying quite inappropriate to the situation. Yes, a properly played insanity is a wonderful sight, but in my experience it leads to exaggeration and silliness. I do not even like the list in the rulebook as it only results in keepers choosing a random insanity, rather than considering the situation and choosing a carefully tailored derangement. The sum total of all of this is that a random roll of the dice results in an equally random insanity - and a complete lack of feeling. Players cannot be expected to roleplay an insanity for which they have no sympathy. Call of Cthulhu is an old game. Born in 1981, it survives through to 1994 pretty much unchanged. Five editions have added a bit of polish and spit, but the basic mechanics today are thirteen years old. And therein lies a problem. Thirteen years may not sound like much, but roleplaying games have progressed considerably since then. Back in 1981, we were still learning how to play. Mechanics like Sanity were fine back then, when we needed guidance and advice on how to behave. But not now. We're older, wiser, and we have the benefit of playing the newer games. As a result, we are better players and keepers. Even new players are better, because today's rules are well-written and full of advice. We don't need clunky mechanics to tell us how to roleplay. We do not need to force random SAN rolls, because we can tell when the players are scared shitless. Players will role-play the effects of failing a Sanity check without prompting. I've seen them flinch, shudder and panic in the face of the Cthulhu Mythos. Why do we need a damn mechanic when the players do it naturally anyway? And if I want to inflict a phobia, or insanity, I can tailor it to the situation. I don't need to give it a clinical name, I just tell the player that his character has a problem. I can then work that problem into the game: the player reacts because he remembers the situation that caused it. Surely this is better than a random mechanic completely independent of the player's reactions? The Sanity roll is yesterday's mechanic. It should be taken out into the yard, shot, and boiled down to make glue. It was born of a time when we were less confident of our roleplaying, and did not trust players. Well, times have changed and it is time that the rules changed with them. Goodbye, and good riddance. Copyright (c) 1997 Steve Hatherley four letters at random - games - tales of terror - freeforms - friends |