My new TTRPG, Mantigeist, is out now on Itch. So, I thought I would write a short post about how I developed it. Mantigiest is a social deduction game designed to be played silently over Google Drive and Discord. It casts players as a group of scientists locked in a race against time to restore their Arctic research base’s power before a shapeshifting monster kills them all.
I started thinking about the core ideas behind Mantigeist in mid-2023. I was writing about the 1980s home microcomputer boom and its effect on the videogame industry for Lost In Cult’s Console Chronicles book. I’ve always been fascinated by this era of gaming history as microcomputers laid the foundations for the modern indie game scene.
The Origins Of The Idea
Unlike consoles of the time, which required rare and specialist dev kits, all someone needed to make a game for a home microcomputer was the computer itself. And, because most microcomputers could write data to cheap and readily accessible cassette tapes, coders could effortlessly share their games with friends or potential distributors. This led to a boom of “bedroom coders,” many of whom would go on to form some of modern gaming’s biggest and most well-known studios.
This got me thinking. Microcomputers made game design more accessible and less intimidating by using tools and mediums people already had. So, could you make a TTRPG that is more accessible because it uses platforms and software everyone already knows and uses?
The thought bounced around in my head for several months, but I didn’t make much progress with it. However, one night, a friend asked me to read and edit a short story they had written. I agreed to help and opened the Google Drive link they sent me. While reading, I spotted some missing punctuation and quickly corrected it, only to spot another mistake further down the page. I made a mental note to fix it but decided to go and refresh my coffee first.
However, when I returned with a full cup, I couldn’t find the offending mistake anywhere. But, after five minutes of furious scrolling and re-reading, I realized that I wasn’t the only person in the document at the time. But, as the other editors were not logged into Google Drive, it was hard to notice when they edited something and nearly impossible to tell who had changed what.
Naturally, this got me thinking about communication, particularly how small changes to a sentence can transform how people perceive it and how bad actors weaponize this to get what they want. Social deduction games like Among Us or Town Of Salem showcase this phenomenon best, as they naturally encourage even the most mild-mannered players to use every trick they can to come out on top.
Making A Game Out Of Google Drive
So, I decided that my next big project would be a social deduction game based on Google Drive.
When writing the game, I drew heavy influence from The Thing, one of my favorite films ever. At its core, The Thing is a movie about communication breakdowns and how paranoia can lead to people acting against their best interests. This theme is evident from the very start of the film, where the incoming Americans gun down a Norwegian scientist as they can’t understand his warning about the creature that is running amok.
From there, the core idea came together pretty quickly. Most players are scientists who have to travel around the map fixing equipment, while one player is the titular Mantigeist monster tasked with killing all the scientists before they can finish all the repairs. The only way the players can communicate with one another is via short text messages that are sent via Google Drive. However, they have to be careful, as before the messages are shared, the monster can pick one player and edit their text, allowing them to sow division and cause confusion.
When designing and fine-tuning the mechanics, I wanted to guarantee that communication failures would happen frequently and that the players remained paranoid and on edge.
Players roll 2 D6 every turn and assign each dice to one of four actions: Move, Message, Work, Fight. Obviously, a player can’t perform every action every turn, forcing them to consider their actions carefully.
Talking Is Not A Free Action
Naturally, this encourages communication issues because if one player uses the Message action to tell everyone that they believe another player is the Mantigeist, the accused player has to either use the Message action on their next turn to argue their case (limiting what they can do and leaving them open to a Mantigeist attack) or decide to ignore it, risking other players becoming suspicious.
This also stretches to the Message action itself. When a player assigns dice to the Message action, they get to send a message to the other players. However, this message can only contain words equal to the number rolled (a roll of 3 gives you three words, and a roll of 6 gives you six words). So, no matter the roll used, the player won’t have enough words to make their point fully and clearly, leaving plenty of room for other players to misunderstand or doubt what they’re saying.
Doubly so because the monster has a unique action called hijack. This action allows the Mantigeist to pick a player, go into their log, and add, remove, or change words equal to the roll they assigned. This means players will always have to question if a message is odd because they didn’t have enough words to communicate clearly or if the Mantigeist has warped it, leading to plenty of paranoia and second-guessing.
This is enhanced by the underlying software. Mantigeist is designed for silent, remote play. Players only have text to go on, so they can’t glean extra context from body language or tone of voice, making it much harder to spot lies and understand what other players are trying to say, increasing the chances of misunderstandings or communication breakdowns. Plus, having the players physically separated helps make the game more immersive as players get to feel the isolation and vulnerability their characters are experiencing, upping the paranoia factor even more.
Combat That Favors Manipulation
One of my favorite aspects of the game is the combat system. When a player assigns dice to the Fight action, they get to make a roll to see if their attack is successful before sending the player they’re targeting an anonymous note saying how it plays out.
If a player is hit with a successful attack, they become Vulnerable. If a Vulnerable player is hit with another successful attack, they die, removing them from the game. However, attacks stack, meaning that if a player is successfully attacked twice in the same turn, they die instantly.
This stacking means that the Mantigeist is mechanically encouraged to turn players against each other. If the Mantigeist attacks a player on their own, it will take at least two turns to kill the target, giving the other player a chance to use the Message action to warn everyone else, drawing suspicion. However, if the Matigeist can convince one or more other players to attack the target, the victim won’t get a chance to communicate, and the Mantigeist can maintain plausible deniability.
This stacking also forces the Mantigeist player to consider their actions carefully. While they have some advantages in play, they are not more durable than the other players. So if the Mantigeist makes themselves too obvious and gets surrounded, the other players can kill them before they can react.
Thanks for reading this post about Mantigeist. It was a tricky game to design, but I’m super happy with how it came out, so I hope you give the game a shot at some point. If you want to buy a copy, you can find the game at the link below!
Jonathon Greenall is a freelance writer, artist, and tabletop roleplaying game designer who has written for CBR, Polygon, Nintendo Life, Gayley Dreadful, Enbylife, and many other publications. They have also published several popular and highly-praised tabletop roleplaying games including “You Have One Ability….The Ability To Fuck This Up,” “Macarons, Milkshakes, And Magic,” and “Wander Wizards.”
Jonathon has always been fascinated by media, from the big hitters to the small, obscure, and often overlooked titles that linger on the sidelines, capturing both the on and off-camera stories that make these shows so fascinating.
Jonathon is also a major anime fan, having been exposed to the medium through shows like Sailor Moon and Revolutionary Girl Utena. Since then, Jonathon has maintained a passion for anime, watching most new shows each season and hunting down overlooked gems from previous ones.