>X GARDENIA
On a bare patch of white sandy soil, a dry gardenia flower lies in the sun, its petals browned and brittle.
>SMELL IT
As you bring the flower closer, its petals crumble into dust and a hint of ash enters your nostrils along with the faint flowery sweetness. You sneeze, close your eyes, sneeze again. You look around and see you’ll have to tie up some…
You’ve been summoned before one of the big guys, one of the powerful ones. There’s been a murder and you must investigate. Not for the sake of the victim or their loved ones, oh no… For the sake of discreetness. The whole thing was a tad too visible to outsiders, and we wouldn’t want to break the Masquerade, now would we? Especially not for something so banal as a measly human life…
Find the killer, the witness, and the evidence.
The introduction of Loose Ends immediately sets the tone. It feels like a mélange of detective noir, a maffia clan story, and of course VampireKindred-lore. (Varkonyi simultaneously in the roles of the Vampire Elder, the Don who makes an offer you can’t refuse, and the blonde Babe with the husky voice who just walked into your office with a backlit cigarette-smoke halo around her.)
The above blurred text is a little joke of mine, but Loose Ends is anything but a comedy game. While Alder Varkonyi was explaining the assignment to you in his office, it seemed straightforward enough. Once outside though, alone in the city at night, pressed for time and clues, it quickly becomes clear that this is no laughing matter.
The introduction offers few choices. Few, but critical to the course of the story to follow. Some basic elements of your character’s backstory need to be filled in, and they are important. (More so than, say, hair colour…)
The approach to obstacles, your PC’s favoured strategies, the talents you have access to, … All of this hinges on those first choices, and will heavily influence the perspective through which the reader experiences the story.
Then… Out of the office, onto the streets. The simplicity of the task-as-described crumbles. You’re dragged down a whorl of complications, you spiral down into an intricate web of loyalties and treachery, feuds and allegiances, innocence and deception.
Rather than disentangle yourself, the point of the game is to dive deeper and choose. Choose which strands to tighten and which to sever. Realise that danger is inevitable, whichever way you go, and make sure you are equipped for whatever lies at the end of your path.
You will meet many other characters, mortal and undead. Most of them have an agenda of their own. Consider carefully what your own long-term objective will be, whose personal aims align most with yours. Be aware that all choices are trade-offs, potentially lethal.
When I wrote this isn’t a comedic game, I did not mean there is no humour in Loose Ends. There is. It’s mostly to be found in the protagonist’s dry, self-deprecating narration. While there is nothing funny about the events and circumstances, the main character’s cynical reactions to them do have a certain amusing, if somewhat bleak, quality. The character-building choices from the introduction may have determined the backstory, the options in the game proper do offer enough leeway to steer your PC’s personality away from (or further towards) this cynicism and egocentrism. This provides a sense of open-endedness, of ongoing development to the protagonist’s character.
The writing as a whole is very good, both in its choice of words and sentences as in the overarching structure of the narrative.
The backdrop of the weather and the gloomy night-time city add to the harsh, uncaring cruelty of events. A range of feelings, both human and vampiric, are compellingly evoked, both in the story-characters and in the reader. Desperation and hope, strength and weakness, indifference and care, all these are spread along the branches of the narrative, in greater or lesser doses according to the chosen path. Not pressed upon the reader, but called forth by good writing.
The overall structure of this confusing web of choices and interpersonal relations is impressively realised. Irrevocable decisions with long-term consequences have to be made, based on incomplete information. Characters are bound by sympathy or enmity towards one another, causing consequences of your choices to ripple through the unseen social relations.
A tough game. Not because there are difficult puzzles, or because it’s hard to reach an ending, but because of the finality of decisions and the moral twilight of the trade-offs you must make on the way there.
Very impressive.