So, as I mentioned last time, I finished two massive campaigns spanning roughly eight years of effective play between them. Each of those endings taught me something about GMing that I think we can look at when we are ending the game.
Last article, I looked at a long running D&D game and how that went. In this column I’m going to look at a totally different game and what it can tell us about other genres and systems as well as expectations in game. So this time, we are talking about Control.
The Campaign
Control has been a Vampire: The Masquerade chronicle of kindred in Mid 90’s Washington DC set around themes of control, conspiracy and trust. It’s went the distance, often feeling like a vast unfolding TV series where each revelation led to something else and some new beat for each character. People have changed and grown and fought against themselves, outside threats, internal betrayals and it has mostly been about the dense political interactions between vampires in the city, the occasional hair raising fight that usually ends in a death and investigation of various mysteries that end with connections to a bigger, much scarier mythos.
This requires a very different resolution than a D&D game. I wanted to resolve the plot beats in a way that does hint that some characters might be going on to be part of bigger plots, but if they do, it’ll require moving away from the focus of this campaign. And others might instead choose to keep what they’ve got and be happy with the unlife they have without risking things.
Above all, I wanted to make sure the end was deeply personal. The game is about tragedy and personal cost. I didn’t want the end to be easy. Some people might get a happy ending but it was in no way guaranteed.
This then, requires a delicate touch.
The Setup of The End
To begin with, I’ve been continually reinforcing the message that an ending in this game might not end well and I in no way guarantee everyone will walk away happy. Doing this from the start is important; it allows the players time to come to terms with a horrid fate way before the game ends.
I purposefully put two things to resolve in the game. One was a big metaplot that involves finishing the schemes of an elder vampire. Partly, this was because that was the main focus of the campaign, partly it was because that is the classic vampire mode of play and I wanted to give these players that experience. It was also the focus because I wanted to hide the actual important moment of the last session of the game. That really the final moments would be about deciding the fate of Anderton, a darkly infernal charmer who had been sentenced to final death.
Considered a friend to some of the group, an enemy to others, a known infernalist to all, Anderton’s fate not only was a way for the party to have something dramatic to chew on, but was focused on Vampire‘s core stat – Humanity. What does it do to us if we sentence this person to death, even if they evil? This isn’t combat, we have to decide to help condemn him. Does that sort of action condemn us too?
Given that in the first scene of Control the characters had been all together in the game, a similar execution had happened but then they had no power, it was also about breaking the cycle of violence and deciding if they’ve become part of the organised social machine they hated at the start. Meet the new boss, same as the old boss.
The Final Moments
It very quickly fell apart and I loved it. I watched these characters who had been allies only a session before, working together in order to stop the plot of this ancient being, now in these final moments, tear themselves apart and destroy friendships forever. Some of them had breakdowns and blamed others, some argued on principle against the disgust they felt for the accused. Eventually the accused managed to get a word in and used his words to not beg for his life but ask that the most humane member of the group be the one to finish him. He then provoked another member of the group until he lost control of the beast inside him and leapt to attack, the scene becoming a confused mess of fire and flight.
This tragedy caused some players to cry and others to feel deeply moved. But I think it went down well here because we know the game we are playing: it feels right, that we were always heading here. The idea that control of the scene was always in conflict, that I was going to twist the knife one more time, that it would inevitably come down to the frailty of humanity: it was always there in the subtext of the game. It’s the genre of the game, personal horror.
When thinking about endings, genre and mood are so important in setting expectations – but also the fact the players have a sense of urgency they won’t have elsewhere. Near the end, the players are also searching for an ending and you can use that anxious energy. You could use it in a way where you all work together and find a clean resolution because you know it’s ending. All I did here was refuse that energy. I made a scene go on long enough that the players felt uncomfortable and gave themselves enough rope to hang themselves with.
I held off that ending just for a little while. Enough to make the players sweat about what is happening, give them time to completely wrong foot themselves and wait until they realise they are responsible for the ending. At the end of the game is the moment the GM should have the least control. It’s up to the player characters to work towards an ending, the GM by then is just a facilitator of that end. But that doesn’t always mean giving them a simple out. In the case of a game of this genre, you have to work them hard find the moment it is ok to turn off the camera.
Once the chaos has happened, I moved into trying to get the dust to settle. I was able to just test some of the players foundations one last time, allow them to contemplate who they are going to be going forward or be marked by this moment, before heading towards shorter, sometimes narratively satisfying conclusions. The kindred went on with their nights, some leaving the city, some staying. I gave them the chance to either forgive or at least move past it. And this low level ending, almost quiet compared to the sound and fury of before, gave the players a satisfying conclusion, maybe to return one day, maybe not.
And it didn’t need any more fanfair. It was quiet. And in this is our final lesson. To never lose sight of the fact that the ending of things is about the characters story. They should choose how it ends. They’ve earned the right to write those final moments. Let them.
And that’s the end of our talk about endings. I’ll see you soon. Perhaps we’ll talk of new beginnings.
Creative Commons art: “A grotesque avant-garde vampire” by MontrealDigital, “The Bite of a Vampire” by am-Alnath and “Vampire’s Blood” by Zeilyan.
