- Horror Roleplaying Part 1. Setting the Mood.
- Horror Roleplaying Part 2: The Setup
- Horror Roleplaying Part 3: The Vampire
- Horror Roleplaying Part 4: Zombies!
- Horror Roleplaying Part 5: Cthulhu Mythos 1
- Horror Roleplaying Part 6: Cthulhu Mythos 2
- Horror Roleplaying Part 7: Cthulhu 3 – Tomes and Dreams
- Horror Roleplaying Part 8: Roleplaying a Victim – A Gamer’s Response to Sieg
Zombies are one of the all-time great horror sub-genres, and they fit extremely well into almost any setting. There are many different flavours of Zombie, however, and you shouldn’t just automatically choose the most obvious.
First: Voodoo zombies. Raised by the will of a priest or shaman to do his bidding, not driven by any inner urges but the will to obey. For a good iteration of this type of zombie I would point you to the film “White Zombie”, starring Bella Lugosi. Despite the somewhat racist tone implied by the name (“Surely this Voodoo rubbish only effects black people… What? It works on White people too? Horrific!”) this is one of the all-time greats of zombie cinema, and served as a starting point for the genre to develop.
A second type of Zombie narrative focuses on a narrowly defined group of the undead. These tales usually explain the existence of zombies by either the experimentations of scientists interested in blurring the lines between life and death, or overcoming death through scientific means. A limited zombie outbreak might also be provided for through more esoteric means – either a type of ghost story in which the physical remains of the dead rise along with their spirits to claim vengeance for some past misdeed. Magical revival without the element of control might also fit into this second type of narrative. At any rate, these are stories of animated human remains without the threat of an apocalyptic outbreak.
The zombie apocalypse is the third version of zombie tale. A zombie apocalypse narrative implies an infection or disease as the cause of the outbreak. To drive the whole “Man playing God” theme in with a sledgehammer, you can have this disease a genetic experiment or a human engineered virus. There are plenty of these types of scenarios in literature and film – this sub-type has become the most popular and widespread of the lot.
Now, these three different sorts of narratives need to be handled in their own particular way, and they imply different sorts of story arc. Yet each of them involves you, at some point, introducing the monster to the players. And the way you handle that can be critical to the sense of horror created.
Whenever I use a monster in a horror game I usually ask myself one basic question: What’s the theme underlying this monster? This question usually gets to the very heart of what we find disturbing or compelling about a particular type of foe. In the case of the zombie, the most dominant theme is the parody of human existence. It transgresses the ultimate border, the sanctity and unanimity of the human person, and throws into dark relief the inevitable putrefaction of ourselves. The element of disgust is a necessary part of the effect; to be disgusted at what a human body can become, of what all human bodies become, is an effect the games master should attempt to achieve. You need to describe the multi-sensual experience of the encounter – the smells, sounds, feel – even the taste of the zombie (if you can manage it!), not just the sight (although that is a significant part of the description.)
Think of how you might be able to play up that element of parody in your own zombies. Two episodes: You are walking through the woods one day when you spot a dark, human-like shape shambling through the trees. A breeze blowing from this direction carries the smell of the grave. It spots you, and starts to make for you as fast as its stiffened gait can manage. As it approaches through the gloom you notice that it’s head lolls to one side – and is that a rope burn around his neck? A hollow, eager wheeze escapes its lips.
That’s not a bad description (if you’ll let me flatter myself.) But now put it in context: Last session, you hunted down and captured a cattle thief. He was a personable fellow and chatted amiably as you took him back to town. You learned about his family, his hard life. Perhaps he passed a few jokes, or offered you some of the fine tobacco of which he was particularly fond. None of this personality, however, saved him from the gallows, and you ended last session with a description of the rope snapping his neck.
The presentation of the walking corpse of someone you’ve interacted with is much more powerful than a multitude of random individuals, be they described ever so well. This is not to say that every zombie you come across should be known to the players, only that for an added air of piquancy you should not neglect to include at least a few instances of likable or interesting NPC’s who meet with such a fate. If you’re telling a broader zombie tale, it will add an element of detail and interest otherwise not found. To really drive it home have the players encounter a formerly deceased player character.
You can leverage this element of interest by adding personal touches to the different zombies encountered. Items favoured in life still being carried; work clothes clearly describing an occupation being worn. Make the zombies real-life characters – ordinary people from all walks and stages of life. In a fantasy campaign it’s easy to view the dead as all warrior types, but even here the atmosphere can be greatly improved by the inclusion of other, ordinary people.
Speaking of which, let’s have a few quick words about the rules. The problem with having well-defined rules regarding zombies is that this particular trope is about breaking the rules. When someone dies, they should be dead. Yet the dead walk again. In this case, having a set number of hit points to kill before the zombie falls down never to move again is hardly in keeping with the proper Zombie atmosphere. I would recommend winging it a bit – yes, think about what “win conditions” you’ll allow your players to aim for, but everything else is fair game. Consider some of the best zombie films of the past: “Braindead” for instance – released as “Dead Alive” in North America (apparently the producers didn’t think you guys could understand the original title – kind of insulting, if you ask me) featured the animated, malevolent (and very characterful) viscera as a zombie. Evil Dead 1 and 2 both featured Ash’s severed hand, animated in awful mockery of his physical self. How do you present that kind of horror in a neat set of rules? I suggest the GM throw the rules aside and wing it as he sees fit.
I mentioned before that you should choose carefully what type of zombie narrative you’re going to employ. You may think that your setting may dictate your choice, but I would like to challenge you to try to throw something unexpected into the mix. Consider a fantasy campaign. You might think the obvious choice is the “voodoo” trope – some necromancer has raised an army of the undead. Only slightly less likely is the “ghost” undead type – zombies guarding a treasure vault, or returning for revenge on the living, or previous adventurers animated through a curse. But what would a fantasy zombie apocalypse look like? Alternatively, if you’re in a modern setting, it may be interesting to throw a curve ball at your players in the following way:
One of your players has a family member or love interest suffer an unfortunate mishap. Play through the scene, then the wake, the funeral etc. Briefly, of course. A couple of days later, while the bereaved character is, perhaps, tucked up in bed they hear a few thumps, then a crash from their front door. Getting up to investigate, the player finds an oddly familiar, dark shape vaguely illuminated by the static on the television set. It is standing and swaying, the remote held loosely in its hand. The dark shape notices the character and starts shambling towards him/her. Play out what happens next, then start dropping in news items of similar events all over the local area. The players will suspect a zombie apocalypse story. But then twist it. Perhaps only those buried within a particular grave yard are raised – making inquiries, a rather peculiar individual was interred there just prior to the zombies popping up, and he has no wish for company. Or have a sinister mastermind behind the outbreak, either scientific or magical.
Zombies suffer from the same issue as vampires. The moment you let on what type of story you’re telling, the players are in their comfort zone. So twist it. Make it different. Do something unusual to keep them guessing.
Now, a couple of ideas to get your creative juices flowing.
In the Metamorphoses of Apuleius – also known as The Golden Ass – there is a story where a witch accidentally turns 3 wineskins into zombies. The hero of the tale is assaulted by these as he returns to the house. Perhaps this idea could be utilised in a necromantic story. The PCs are invited to stay the weekend at a fine country house. It appears the somewhat odd master of the house is rather fond of hunting, and many of his trophies adorn his walls or stand in the corners of the rooms. At night he is careful to go to retire to his room before sunset, and the characters hear him lock and bar his door. As the final rays of the sun go down strange things begin to happen.
Another interesting plot idea comes from the ancient epic of Gilgamesh, the goddess Ishtar threatens Anu to release the dead on the living if she is not given the Bull of Heaven.
“If you do not give me the Bull of Heaven,
I shall smash [the gates of the Netherworld, right down] to its dwelling,
I shall bring up the dead to consume the living,
I shall make the dead outnumber the living.”
(Translation by Andrew Georgle, VI 96-100)
This one writes itself. An ancient temple to Ishtar buried under the sand. On the altar, cupped in Ishtar’s hands, is a bronze statue of a bull. The well-meaning archaeologist makes off with this wonderful treasure, and the world goes to hell.
In conclusion: The primary thematic element of zombie horror is the parody of the human person. Heighten this idea by making your zombies immediate, NPCs the characters already know and have roleplayed with. Add elements of realism even to the zombies the characters don’t know. Take care in your descriptions, make them visceral and horrifying. By all means ignore the rules of the game when telling a zombie story – when the dead are rising from their graves nothing can be taken for granted, and your players should feel this too. Keep them guessing.
And finally -



