Planning the Haunt: How I Designed One of Our Most Emotional Sessions Yet

“Some sessions are about combat. Some are about story. And some are about listening to floorboards creak and waiting for a player to strum one perfect note.”

The Design Challenge

After the chaos of earlier sessions—faction drama, chase scenes, and tense negotiations—I wanted Session 12 to slow down. We’d just acquired Trollskull Manor, and I saw an opportunity to:

• Let the party settle into the space
• Establish emotional roots for the manor
• Introduce the Urchins and Lif the ghost
• Give my son’s character, Clover the bard, a moment to shine

What I didn’t want was to rush. This wasn’t about plot advancement. It was about letting the players breathe, explore, and connect.

Planning Priorities

I started with this session skeleton:

1. Mood First: Haunted, But Not Dangerous

I took inspiration from haunted house stories with playful ghosts—mysterious, mischievous, and a little lonely. My notes included:

• Use sound design: giggles, doors creaking, running feet
• Keep descriptions evocative but vague
• Avoid combat early to let suspense build

2. Misdirection with Heart: Introducing the Urchins

The “haunting” would lead to the big reveal: three orphans playing hide-and-seek in the ruined tavern.

Each child was sketched with a strong personality:

• Squiddly: tiefling rogue-in-training, grinning troublemaker
• Nat: leader, silent confidence, communicates in CSL
• Janks: wannabe wizard, oversized hat, stuffed owlbear

Their job wasn’t to dump lore. It was to make the party laugh and care.

3. The Ghost of Lif: World-Building through Tone

Lif, the barkeep’s ghost, needed to haunt without hostility. I used the urchins as his interpreters. Their stories made him real before he ever “appeared.”

And then, a single tankard slid across the bar by itself. No roll. No skill check. Just… narrative timing.

4. One Magical Moment for a Player

Clover (my son’s character) was destined to find his guitar. I wrote the discovery like a piece of prose:

“A door disguised as a song. And you, you are the key.”

This wasn’t just treasure—it was identity. I made sure the room fell silent when he played that first chord.

The Execution at the Table

Once we sat down to play, my goal was to stay reactive. Here’s what worked in the moment:

• Lean into uncertainty: When they asked, “Is this place haunted?”, I just smiled. Let their minds fill the space.
• Stay patient: I let the kids roleplay freely. No forced exposition. Their voices carried the story.
• Add danger late: Once things were cozy, I stirred the pot with dust mephits and a mini fight. Just enough chaos to jolt them back to reality.

Takeaways for DMs

Let tension build naturally.
Trust silence. Trust giggles. You don’t need a monster statblock to make your players shiver.

Invest in your NPCs.
The Urchins weren’t “quest givers.” They were kids. And the players immediately wanted to protect them. Now they care about the tavern, too.

Give spotlight without making a speech.
Clover’s moment worked because I wrote the scene, then got out of the way. One chord. A room full of fireflies. Let the table feel it.

For Players Reading This

Here’s your part in what made this session work:

• You didn’t rush. You explored. You asked questions.
• You shared the stage. When someone had a spotlight moment, you watched, encouraged, and listened.
• You let roleplay lead. No one tried to “game” the ghost or intimidate the kids. You just talked to them.

Looking Ahead

The kids are sleeping in the upstairs loft. Lif got his mug of wine. The tavern’s still a wreck, but it’s your wreck now.

Next session, we deal with repairs, guilds, and… a crawlspace with teeth?

We’ll see. For now, thanks for sitting by the fire with me.