As dungeon masters, we can use mind games to manipulate and control players, as a means of presenting the game so as to achieve certain narrative or stylistic goals. We can use mixed signals, passive-aggressive behaviour, emotional manipulation, and even "gaslighting" to create the dynamic, engaging experience we're going for. Thus we're able to confuse, intimidate, or undermine the players' confidence and sense of reality, making it easier to dominate or influence their actions.
Skipping over, for the moment, whether we should do this, let's take a moment and run down what these mind games are. Mixed signals can keep players guessing and unsure about the true nature of the challenges they face, enhancing the sense of mystery and unpredictability in the game. For example, we can appear helpful and friendly, or we can appear hesitant to answer certain questions, suggesting that these are bad strategies or ideas on the players' part, causing them to be uncertain about what they're asking for, or what actions they're taking.
We might be passive aggressive by suggesting disappointment at the players deciding upon a certain action, or failing to be sufficiently brave or creative in their strategies. We might say, "Oh, you're taking that route? Well, it's probably the safer option, even if it means missing out on potential rewards." This pressures players to reconsider their choices, without outright forbidding their actions.
We can craft scenarios to tun at the players' heartstrings or evoke rash actions, as forms of emotional manipulation. For example, the DM might introduce a young, innocent character in need of help, only to later reveal that aiding this character inadvertently caused harm to others. This can be effectively used to jerk the players around in all sorts of ways, while heightening the emotional stakes of a game ... while simultaneously causing players to feel guilty or perhaps incompetent as players.
Gaslighting is all about distorting the players' perceptions of events, to sow doubt and confusion. We can present a key to the players, setting everything up so that the key seems very important; and then, inevitably, have it be the case that the key never mattered at all. We can invent faint, eerie voices, which never lead to the discovery of anything, and are just meaningless, extraneous details we threw in for no good reason. We can cover a door with symbols, causing players to drastically overthink the importance of these symbols, assuming they wouldn't be here if they weren't important ... and then have the symbols mean exactly nothing beyond decoration.
In the short run, most of these can be used to deepen the players' engagement ... until such time as they feel like they're being abusively manipulated, whereupon expect an insurrection. If they feel consistently manipulated or unfairly treated, frustrated, and feel they have reason to cease trusting the DM, it shouldn't be a surprise if they refuse to further play the game. While yes, uncertainty and misinformation can enhance game play, it can also easily undermine the players' enjoyment and agency. If mixed signals become too frequent or convoluted; if passive aggressive behaviour is evidently judgmental; if emotional manipulation goes too fare in exploiting sensitive topics, or creates situations that lead to excessive guilt or distress; then a backlash is bound to occur. And gaslighting, of course, is not far from downright lying.
The goal, though it shouldn't need to be said, is to enhance the players' experience; the presentation isn't, and never should be, about what the DM wants. Take the example of the door covered with symbols. As the players drift into overthink, our better nature ought to realise that, "Oops, I've shoved them into a loop," and feel guilty enough about that to explain in short order that no, these are just decorations. On the other hand, if we sit and listen to the players suffer, enjoying their confusion and all the game time it wastes --while even enjoy the fact that it's keeping the players busy without our needing to do anything, that's a bad thing. We ought to stop engaging that impulse.
We exist to present and progress the game in such a way that it's enjoyable and engaging for the players. When we plan to use any form of manipulation or psychological tactic, it is crucial to also plan for the moment when the misinformation becomes evident. This approach requires the DM to anticipate the players' eventual realization and be prepared to address it honestly and transparently. When the truth comes out, admitting openly with a statement like, "Yes, I was playing with you," can transform potential frustration into a shared laugh, fostering a sense of camaraderie and enhancing the overall enjoyment of the game.
It's difficult to explain in clear terms just how this works. To see how it does, we must begin by admitting that IF our coming clean is going to anger the party, then we should avoid playing that mind game in the first place. It's not acceptable to think, "Well then, I just won't come clean." That's not an answer. It's evidence of why you don't deserve friends. Think of it like a "practical joke." Approach it with the same care as a well-intentioned prank. The goal is to entertain and surprise, not to upset or frustrate. Consider how the players will react when the truth comes out. Concentrate on inventing misdirections or deceptions that will, in the long run, be viewed as "clever" or "enlightening."
Consider this scene from Lord of the Rings,
At the top, as high as Gandalf could reach, was an arch of interlacing letters in an Elvish character. Below, though the threads were in places blurred or broken, the outline could still be seen: two trees, each bearing crescent moons. More clearly than all else there shone forth in the middle of the door a single star with many rays. There are the emblems of Durin! cried Gimli. And there is the Tree of the High Elves! said Legolas. And the Star of the House of FĂ«anor, said Gandalf. They are wrought of ithildin that mirrors only starlight and moonlight, and sleeps until it is touched by one who speaks words now long forgotten in Middle-earth. It is long since I heard them, and I thought deeply before I could recall them to my mind.
All this is a mind game. It's intended to convey the idea that the door is very complex, and certainly not easy to enter. Of course, we all know the joke now, but the subtle manner in which Tolkein sets up the confusion about "Speak, friend, and enter," is compelled by the initial description of the door. The mind game lies in the juxtaposition of the straightforward solution against the perceived need for a more intricate one, highlighting themes of wisdom and simplicity over unnecessary complexity.
This is a simple example. I recently indulged in the creation of a mind game in a book I'm writing; I'll provide the relevant text without context, except to say the narrator is the DM here:Unfortunately, the girl Mnkeh, who's just five, is nowhere to be seen. I roll a six-sided die to see how long it takes to find her, doing it until I roll a '1.' I mentally tell myself that if I get a ‘1’ within four rolls, Mnkeh is safe. It takes six rolls for me to roll a ‘1.’
As the die hits the table each time, in full view—I don't play with a gaming screen—the players look on with confusion and concern. When I stop, with a ‘1’ showing, the room is silent. "Galatea hears a scream to her left," I say. Galatea launches herself in that direction, and as she reaches the top of the dry wash bank, she sees that Mnkeh is being threatened by a wolf. The little girl is trying to wedge herself into a crack along the far bank. It's not big enough for her.
"I scream, trying to get the wolf's attention," yelps Susan, who then has Galatea leap down the bank. It's ten feet, onto soft loam, and she makes her dexterity check and ends on her feet. The wolf and Mnkeh, I say, are 40 feet away.
Galatea throws her hammer, Susan snatching her d20 from the table. She misses.
I roll a twenty-sided die in full view of the party. It comes up a '17.' A clear hit. The wolf attacks Mnkeh and kills the girl."
This is a mind game simply in that the DM has set up a situation where the girl conveniently disappears, is conveniently found by a wolf at the same time that the player character Galatea conveniently finds them both together. It's a story that's been pre-written, up the point where there's time for Galatea to throw her hammer, for good or ill. With the possibility that the wolf might miss, even when Galatea does.
It's definitely a manipulation. And it creates a stake that might, for some players, be seen as too far: a little girl dies. It also creates an emotional echo where, Galatea having missed, the player Susan is conscious of how she might have felt if she'd hit. And if she had hit, and driven off or killed the wolf, she'd be just as conscious of how she might have felt if she'd missed.
It's this duality that is a mind-fuck. That once the balance of the die being rolled is presented, BOTH possibilities remain in the player's mind after the fact ... but only because the stakes are high enough. If there had been no little girl, if she'd only be throwing at a wolf that happened to be passing by, the die roll would have none of the importance that the mind game I'm playing generates.
It's this duality that is a mind-fuck. That once the balance of the die being rolled is presented, BOTH possibilities remain in the player's mind after the fact ... but only because the stakes are high enough. If there had been no little girl, if she'd only be throwing at a wolf that happened to be passing by, the die roll would have none of the importance that the mind game I'm playing generates.
After the fact, as a matter of fridge logic, the player eventually recognises the manipulation ... and then, makes up their mind about whether or not this is the sort of game they want to play. Either way, hit or miss, the player feels the excitement of the moment, the thrill of the stakes being high ... or, alternatively, feels that this isn't the sort of upsetting game she wants to play. It's a risk as a DM. But taking the risk, or not taking it, gets us the sort of players we want ... or the sort of players we deserve.
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