Content Warning: Gore
This was about 10 years ago, before I’d discovered non-traditional RPGs, and before I’d ever considered having to address emotional safety in RPGs…and certainly before I’d heard of the X-Card.
I was running the Pathfinder adventure path, “Rise of the Runelords.” For those unfamiliar, APs are a six-volume series of linked traditional modules to bring your Pathfinder/D&D 3.x character from level 1 to level 17 or so.
Anyway, the party was investigating some smuggling activity, and found clues that led to the local crime-boss. They broke into the guys office at night and found a grisly sight: The crime boss was dead: his naked body was mutilated and arrayed post-mortem in a particularly gruesome manner.
While describing the scene, one of my players cut me off and said that he was very much uncomfortable with what I was describing. This caught me off-guard: We were playing D&D after all, and I usually didn’t shy away from gory descriptions of fighting monsters.
We were pretty close to the end of the session anyway, so I ended it there for the night, but I asked this player to stay so we could talk about it.
He asked if there would be more, similar scenes moving forward. I said that yes, there would be: The name of the next volume of the adventure was called, “The Skinsaw Murders.” I went on to say that the plot of that adventure was to track down an undead serial killer stalking the streets of the city. I said that the inspiration for the adventure was horror films like “The Silence of the Lambs,” “Se7en” and “Kiss The Girls.” His expression told me what I needed to know: This was not an adventure for him. He went on to tell me why.
While I knew he was an archaeologist, I learned that was his second career: He had been a forensic anthropologist. (Yes, like the character “Bones” from the TV show.) He said that his first job after getting his degree was working in El Salvador for an NGO to bring to light the atrociities committed by death squads during their civil war in the 1980s. He told me that he’d excavated mass graves and taken testimonies from survivors of the real-world nightmare that was the El Salvador Civil War. After doing that work for two years, he found the work to be tearing at his soul, so he quit the field, went back to school, and got a second PhD.
He went on to say that he played RPGs for swashbuckling adventures of derring-do, and not to simulate a gritty police procedural with human murder victims… and what I had described was far too similar to the “messages” sent by the all-too-real terrorist groups he had investigated.
At the time, I was very committed to the adventure I wanted to run, and told him that I really couldn’t censor the content. He then resigned from my game. I regret that I didn’t try to re-work the adventure, substitiuting a different set of bad guys who would have served the same meta-purpose (e.g. a ring of daring cat-burglars instead of a murderous death-cult).
We are still friends, and do still game together, but we aren’t as close as we once were. That incident really hurt our friendship.
The lesson I learned: Never, ever spring disturbing content on a group without first having a discussion about theme, tone, subject matter, and expectations.