Horror is one of the most enduring genres in tabletop RPGs. Every system dips its toe into something spooky at least once, it seems. This is a little surprising, though, as real horror in an RPG is hailed as nigh-impossible to achieve. A reliance on the intangible – and the party’s constant desire to be goofy little guys – make true terror difficult to manifest.
That being said, 13 Omens is a horror slam-dunk. Its incredibly simple rules (surprising, I know, from the designers of Pathfinder) are tailor-made for tense one-shots. The system only needs a few standout mechanics to make you feel nervous. And I was very nervous in my demo game at Gen Con.
The omens
13 Omens follows in the footsteps of two of my favorite tabletop RPGs: Ten Candles and Dread. Both are designed for horror one-shots, and both employ props to make the terror more tangible. Dread swaps dice rolls for a Jenga tower, which kills a character off if they cause it to topple. Ten Candles, meanwhile, snuffs out candles with every failed roll, and everyone dies when the last goes out.
13 Omen’s schtick is dice in a bag. Every time a roll is called, the player pulls two D6s from a dark bag. The result of these is compared with a Target Number consisting of your proficiency in the relevant stat and difficulty modifiers decided by the Host.
“The host, the person who runs the game, doesn’t roll dice at all”, Joe Pasini, lead designer of 13 Omens, tells me. It’s very much a player-led system, but the Host has a unique way to influence play. “They add dangerous dice to the bag to make it scarier.”
These dice are your titular 13 Omens. A game begins with just one of these different-colored d6s in the bag, but the Host gradually adds them during play. They tend to appear when characters interact with the evil force plaguing them – or attempt an action that’s particularly risky.
“The physical act of reaching into a dark bag and hoping you don’t pull something bad is really compelling”, Pasini tells me. He doesn’t really need to tell me, though, as the demo says it all for him. The tension is palpable when a bag pull is called for. You could slash it with a blade.
It’s not quite as tangible a fear as in Ten Candles or Dread, though. Those games’ props have more capacity for metaphor than a pool of D6s. A sputtering candle or a teetering tower is always going to be more evocative than pips on a die. Still, 13 Omens gets a lot of mileage out of these relatively abstract objects.
Plus, dice have perks of their own. They’re an accessible entry point to roleplay, and they offer more mechanical flexibility. Ready for a shock twist before act two? 13 Omens has found even more interesting ways to mess with our math cubes.
The victims
Omen dice also represent how badly a character is wounded by their trials. Each begins life totally unscathed (lucky them), but once the horror shows begin, the pain comes thick and fast. “This is three or four hours of ratcheting tension”, Pasini says, “and it’s all about attrition”. “You’re losing power as you go, you’re getting more scared, and worse things are happening.”
There are two currencies to track your suffering. The first is Strain, a mark that affects your Aspects (stats) by adding a Flaw to their future rolls. When rolling with a Flaw, you draw a third die from the bag, roll all three, then take the lowest two as your final result.
There is an opposite positive effect in the form of Edge, which lets you take the highest two rolls. Either way, however, you’re drawing more dice from the bag – which makes getting an Omen die more likely.
This is utterly awful thanks to our second currency: Wounds. When you roll an Omen dice and your result is lower than the current ‘Act’ of the game (one, two, or three), you take a Wound. That Omen die leaves the current pool (yay!) and is placed on your character sheet (less yay!).
Gain four Wounds, and you’re dead meat. Or you’re traumatized beyond repair. Or something worse. Whatever torment your Host dreams up, it means you’re out of the game.
As the Wounds and Strain rack up, every move you make could mean disaster. It keeps you on the edge of your seat, and you weigh up every choice.
I felt painfully human during my demo demo. I took fewer Wounds than everybody else, so was expected to lead the charge into danger – but a few bad rolls could change everything. What if I don’t make that jump across the chasm? What if going first – or last – in the marching order puts me in the firing line of whatever lurks in the dark?
Omen dice are nerve-wracking, in the bag or on your character sheet. “When everybody is near death, you’re on a knife’s edge”, Pasini adds. “If anyone dies, all their bad dice go back in the bag – and are more likely to be drawn.” “This really cascades in a fun way in later acts.”
The house of horrors
Let’s talk about those ‘acts’. Every game of 13 Omens follows a three-act structure, like an actual scary movie. Act two triggers when the fifth Omen die enters the bag, and act three begins after the ninth is added. By the time the final die is added, the story is wrapping up, with characters’ fates all but sealed.
“The three-act structure really lends itself to, as I call it, ‘getting the giggles out'”, Pasini tells me. “I’ve played a lot of horror games where you’re with friends and goofing around, and sometimes that means horror games don’t feel scary enough.” “In act one, you have the freedom to goof around and get to know the characters”, he explains. “It’s very low stakes, and then it naturally gets scarier – people get really invested in ways I haven’t seen in other games.”
Speaking from experience, act one gives you time to get your bearings. Your personality is summed up by a handful of stats (Courage, Evade, Fight, Luck, Perception, plus a few story-specific aspects), two unique perks, and the gear in your bag. The details are up to you to hash out through play, and act one is the perfect breeding ground for personal quirks.
Act two, though, is where you find out who you really are. The monster of the week rears its ugly head for the first time, and you see who panic turns you into. Me? I was eager but inexperienced, flip-flopping between total cowardice and rushing hastily into danger to prove myself (and protect my friends).
13 Omens’ pacing is one of its major strengths, giving you space to live out these complex character arcs before giving you a gruesome on-screen death. A few extra rules act as additional support beams.
For example, if you happen to die uncharacteristically early, “the Host can decide not to kill you yet – and wait for a more dramatic moment to snuff out your life.” “There’s also rules that let you participate even when you’re dead”, Pasini explains. “You can use a flashback to say ‘remember when I put this in your bag earlier?’ and help the living characters out of a tough spot.”
Roll credits
One taste is never truly enough to assess a tabletop RPG. I’ll need more testing time to determine if the balance of each act is as stable as Paizo says. Plus, as eager as I am to play 13 Omens again, I want to see if I feel the same after five games, or 10. One-shot systems must struggle harder for replayability than your average Pathfinder or D&D.
Right now, all I can give you is a first impression – but what a spectacular one. Paizo set out to create a system with a narrow scope and a simple execution. Somehow, that’s manifested as an emotional, effective RPG that scratches all my horror itches. Can’t wait for my schlock story to get a sequel.
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Source: Wargamer
