How to Make Metagaming Work for You

Author: Icebrick1

The definition of metagaming commonly used in tabletop roleplaying games is something along the lines of “acting according to information the player possesses, but which their character does not.” Oftentimes, metagaming is regarded as inherently bad—an accusation of metagaming implies, at best, the mistake of impairing immersion, and at worst, the implication of cheating. However, whether you wish to improve the play experience at your table, or simply want to focus on immersion, this conception of metagaming is not very helpful.

A huge issue behind trying to “crack down” on metagaming is that it’s difficult to tell what really is metagaming, what the player might’ve figured out even if they didn’t know anything, and what the character should have figured out.

A brand new player might fight a troll, and by happenstance cast fire bolt and discover the troll’s weakness. If the player is more experienced, suddenly they come under scrutiny if they decide to use fire bolt at all.

Another aspect of this issue is that knowledge simply cannot be unlearned. What should a veteran player do if they already know that shadows are vulnerable to radiant damage? That you should avoid looking directly at a medusa? That adult dragons have Legendary Resistances and will frighten creatures nearby? Do they feign ignorance and pretend to stumble around for a while, or ask for ability checks and act like they are stumbling upon the knowledge until they finally look convincing? We would argue that going out of your way to create the appearance of non-metagaming, is in itself another form of metagaming, and typically a rather unproductive kind.

Deduction and educated guesses from experience also play a large part here—undead are consistently immune to charm and frightened conditions, shadow creatures tend to be less dangerous when exposed to bright light, arcane casters likely pack counterspell, wild beasts typically possess too low intelligence to be affected by Tasha’s hideous laughter…There are simple observed trends that come with experience—both in and out of character—and constantly trying to dance around that knowledge for the sake of appearances makes the game less fun for the player.

In fact, the reverse of the problem associated with metagaming can also be true. The only in-game source of information is through the DM’s descriptions, and to a lesser extent, the props they prepared. It would be rather unreasonable to expect purely narrative descriptions alone to accurately represent how the characters might actually perceive the scene. For example, the DM might neglect to mention that the enemy is wearing heavy armor, or visibly carrying a component pouch. Such things would be obvious to the character, while the player would have no idea.

Determining whether a behaviour counts as metagaming requires a lot of assumptions about the person’s thought process, and that’s before even evaluating whether it’s metagaming of a desirable kind.

Since we interface with our characters in the form of a game, while they presumably exist in the world with only rough approximations of the mechanics of the game, a lot of things players do is inherently metagaming. One example would be knowing exactly how much healing you need based on your number of hit points. Sure, a person can get some estimate of how much more they can take, but not nearly as well as the player controlling that character can. However, hiding hit points would slow down the game (presumably the DM now has to track all PC’s health individually), would make the game less fun (players will either die abruptly when they think their hit points are higher than they are, or become overly cautious as they assume they are low) and would unnecessarily weaken all healing features and spells.

Picking spells on a level up is often a form of metagaming as well. Does your Sorcerer just suddenly realize they can learn exactly one spell out of hundreds? Maybe they were practicing the spell beforehand, but it’s not like you have to pick your spells in advance of the level up. You could choose to learn a spell that’s particularly suited to the situation you’re in when you’re leveling up, and that is, once again, a form of metagaming. But making spell choice more finicky by requiring the player to pick spells in advance to research for level up is simply unfun.

The specifics of most class features is also metagaming. Maybe the characters are aware that the Paladin’s Aura of Protection exists, but do they know it works against fireball but not scorching ray? How and why would they? How could they tell that Aura of Protection might help someone resist getting crushed by a boulder, but have no effect on a giant’s thrown boulder attack? Trying to determine what characters know about their actual class abilities quickly becomes messy, and trying to police their actions based on that, even more so.

There are a lot of cases where metagaming is good for the game, like when you accept a new player’s character because they just joined the game even if your characters would naturally be more suspicious and haven’t recruited any other characters. Another example includes not going on extended solo missions because it’s impolite to hog too much time in the session just for yourself.

The purpose of a game mechanic is to provide additional points of interaction for gameplay. Consider the kind of interactions your relationship with metagaming creates.

Let’s look at the troll example again. All that the Regeneration effect means is that the troll gets a bit more hit points. If this trait is known, then the dynamic of the combat shifts to not only whacking it until it dies, but also to find a way to apply fire damage to it each round to make the fight easier. There are multiple ways to interact with a basilisk’s Petrifying Gaze, such as by averting your gaze, finding a way to incapacitate it, setting up a mirror in bright light environment, or obscuring the basilisk’s sight with spells like fog cloud—many of those interactions might never come in play if all the players receive are generic descriptions and are just asked to make saving throws. Even with descriptions, not all players will understand their implications in mechanical terms, or be aware that there are interactions at all.

If players know that three hags need to be within 30 feet of each other to have access to their coven spell list, the puzzle can become finding ways to split them up if the party can’t defeat one of them right away. Even an ability as simple as the minotaur skeleton’s Charge could encourage players to manage their distance—to either stand outside its range entirely, or if that’s not possible, stand close enough to avoid receiving extra damage. 

Of course, there is still room for surprises, but in general, abilities you can react to and deal with are more fun and interesting than abilities that are complete mysteries (interaction is more fun that non-interaction). Take for example the Cloaker—when it suddenly emerges, you can show the party its False Appearance trait and cause players to be wary of all hanging cloaks from now on; when it bites a player, describe the monster attaching to their body, and threatening to engulf their head, then show them the bite attack and its direct consequences so the players are aware of their interaction options; a common response is to try to kill it right away, at which point you can reveal the big surprise, split the damage on the attack, then show the Damage Transfer trait as soon as the first attack hits.

There are also a number of abilities that are used in response to other things, such as Bardic Inspiration and Divine Soul Sorcerer’s Favored by the Gods. Letting the player have some idea of what they’re saving against, whether it’s frightened or instant death, or even the DC, makes things more fun. It could be argued that potentially wasting your ability against not very impactful effects is a form of difficulty that can be overcome with more skill, but generally allowing abilities to work is more fun than not and wasting them feels terrible.

Trying too hard to prevent metagaming turns what could still be a more engaging fight where the players need someone to deal fire damage every round, into a messy negotiation with the DM and their subjective idea of “metagaming.” The better outcome would just be to let it slide. If it was really something you didn’t want the players to know, you could make the monsters less recognizable, or reflavor it completely. This isn’t meant to redirect blame from the players to the DM—it’s simply difficult for even the best intentioned player to act exactly as they would without their knowledge that trolls are weak to fire.

If you wish to make a monster ability interactive and interesting, players should be aware of how it works as soon as appropriate, which would typically be either upon first encounter, with audio or visual cues, or the moment they first experience the ability in action. In fact, don’t shy away from showing the ability in the stat block in full once it’s been used. This even helps the DM keep track of the intricacies of the ability, as a player can point out if they make a mistake like letting an ability work without sight. In the 4th Edition of D&D, players were actually given descriptions of both abilities in how they would appear in the world, and in game terms for clarity.

An easy way to make “metagaming” not break immersion is to give the characters the same information the players have, rather than trying to stop the players from acting. For example, if the players wish to act on the information that a troll’s Regeneration is stopped by fire or acid, just say that their characters have heard stories of trolls and know their weakness, incorporate information and knowledge into their story, background, and potential plot hooks. Most other game mechanics have things that can be translated into the game world. Your characters might not have the exact description text for their spells and features like players do, but if the characters spend even the most minimal amount of time testing and examining their own limits, it would be rather obvious and intuitive knowledge.

Our concept of telling players abilities if they don’t already know them can easily be explained this way as well. Take the infamous rot grubs, for example. These deadly worms can only be removed by dealing fire damage the turn after they hit you, or by curing the “disease.” Telling the players: “The rot grubs latch on and begin to burrow into your skin. You realize you have but a moment to burn them away before it’ll be too late” allows them to react, creating a more fun experience, while also integrating it into the normal narration seamlessly.

You might want to give some of this knowledge for passing some kind of check like Intelligence (History), but you shouldn’t lock especially vital information behind it. If you wouldn’t like it if the players failed a check (like having them be unfairly killed by rot grubs that can only be stopped in a specific and hard to guess way) there’s no need to shove in a roll, just let the best case scenario occur and tell them the information. Note as well that passing a single roll should not completely trivialize an encounter, nor should failing a roll make an encounter impossible. Even if you feel that the information has to feel more “earned,” a single, arbitrary dice roll is not the productive way to do it.

Rather than restrict the player’s choices, use it as an opportunity to evolve the narrative. Instead of asking “Do you know that flesh golems are weak to fire?”, ask “How did your character know that? Is it from their experience, past connection, or quick wits and observation?” Create new facts about the world, add more details to a character’s story, introduce more descriptions to the encounter and involve the whole table in the process.

This section was almost called a new definition, but is in fact the definition used in almost every game outside of tabletop RPGs, which is that the metagame is about things that transcend the actual rules of the game. A metagame is a set of rules and structures that lie outside of the rules of the game but still affect the game. For example, in video games it might be said that the metagame is to not use a particular character even though they are powerful because they are weak against the most popular characters. Decisions are being made based not just on the game, but on the behaviors of other players.

This has some overlap with the previous definition: for example, a character yelling “There’s no way that’s a real ancient red dragon, we’re only level 3!” fits both definitions. Using anything on your character sheet is never metagaming by this definition, as things like your hit points and spell slots are simply a part of the game and the game’s world itself.

That’s not to say all metagaming (with either definition) is totally acceptable. For example, reading ahead in a pre-written adventure or opening up the Monster Manual to see the stats for a monster during a fight should still not be done without explicit permission. There are limits that should be drawn, and as always, expectations should be communicated clearly. That being said, players reading monsters for another reason, like being a DM themselves or simply because they find it interesting is generally fine. They aren’t doing it to intentionally subvert the game, and as we’ve explained, the players having a clue of what’s going on is usually a good thing, not a bad one.

For any good story, surprise and tension can be part of what makes them engaging as they highlight the triumphs further. Knowing everything can decrease fun if the correct choice is immediately obvious and leads to fewer interactions with the highlight of the encounter, especially if they are meant to be revealed organically. Fortunately, since challenges in D&D are designed as part of a game with mechanics to abide by, situations where knowing the encounter’s gimmick would reduce enjoyment is more uncommon.

In conclusion, “metagaming” as it is commonly defined is not a universal evil, nor does it have to break the immersion of the game. Rather than stopping the game in its tracks whenever a hint of “metagaming” is detected, games can be improved by letting it slide or even integrating it into the story, allowing players to respond to the game rather than act blindly.