Imagine sitting around a table with a few friends. No one’s saying much. A strange symbol card lies in front of you. Everyone is quietly trying to piece together a secret, one that—if you’re lucky—you’re all working toward solving. But maybe… someone at the table is trying to steer the ritual off-course.
Welcome to the eerie, dreamlike world of Rite, a fresh take on social deduction games that invites players into a shadowy dance of intuition, mistrust, and cryptic communication. In this designer diary originally published by BoardGameGeek News, game designer James Emmerson peels back the curtain on how Rite was conjured into being—starting with a single, intriguing question.
A Question That Sparked a Ritual
”How can I design a social game where players need to read each other, but never really know who’s on which team?” That was the thought that lodged itself in Emmerson’s mind one day—and, like many good ideas, refused to leave.
From that one question, Rite began to take shape. Rather than building a game around roles that are clearly divided into ”good” and ”evil,” like Werewolf or The Resistance, Emmerson wanted to explore ambiguity. What if you didn’t even know which side you were on at first? What if the game leaned more into atmosphere than backstory—something that felt less like a logic puzzle and more like stepping into a secret society’s twilight liturgy?
Reading Symbols in Silence
Here’s how the game actually works:
- 3 to 6 players take turns trying to interpret an invisible key word.
- Each one secretly selects a symbol that best represents what they think that hidden word might be.
- Then everyone votes on which symbol they believe is the “true” choice.
Simple enough… except not everyone at the table is actually trying to find the right symbol. Some have a more, shall we say, disruptive mission.
The result? Every symbol becomes a whisper in a crowded room; every vote, a suspicious glance. Conversation is strictly limited—which cranks up the tension even more. You have to study body language, second-guess intentions, and most of all, trust (or distrust) your own gut.
Emmerson distilled Rite down to three core ideas:
- Visual Deduction using abstract, haunting symbols that are open to multiple interpretations.
- Enforced Silence, keeping players from simply blurting out their strategies or suspicions.
- Hidden Allegiances, which may not even be clear to the player themselves until late in the game.
It’s a heady blend, somewhere between The Mind and Mysterium, but with its own eerie rhythm.
When Theme Outweighs Narrative
Don’t expect a conventional setting or storyline when you crack open Rite. Emmerson wasn’t interested in writing a deep lore or rigid world-building.
”I wanted it to feel like you’ve stepped into a dream—or maybe a hallucination,” he says. The game’s art, crafted by illustrator Chris Cold, is filled with esoteric marks that evoke everything from runes to alchemical glyphs to astrological charts. But there’s no central plot. Instead, every session feels like a whispered myth created by the players themselves, one vague gesture at a time.
He also intentionally stripped down the interaction between players. No lengthy debates. No open strategizing. Everything happens through symbols, silence, and vote reveals. ”I didn’t want people to feel like pundits,” Emmerson explains. ”I wanted them to feel like participants in something uncanny and communal—a ritual, not a debate.”
The Hard Work of Making Something Weird Work
As with many ambitious ideas, the journey from concept to playable game wasn’t exactly smooth. In early tests, players often felt overwhelmed—or just plain lost.
Some problems that cropped up:
- Symbols were too ambiguous, making it impossible to find consensus.
- Clues felt so nebulous that players couldn’t build to any satisfying conclusions.
- Balance was tricky—people on different “teams” (those promoting the true ritual vs. the ones subverting it) needed equal chances to win, even with different knowledge.
Little by little, Emmerson adjusted the proportions: more clarity here, a little more mystery there. Gradually, Rite found its balance between clarity and enigma. Chris Cold’s art helped anchor that duality—the light vs. dark, certainty vs. guesswork dynamic that defines the game’s soul.
How It’s Been Received (and What Kinds of Players Will Love It)
After some initial showings at small conventions, Rite started to attract a following—especially among people who loved offbeat deduction titles like Cryptid or Mind MGMT. There was plenty of curiosity, along with a fair bit of caution.
Fans praised the game’s delicate balance of gut feeling and logic, its visual language, and its quiet intensity. But a few testers flagged a clear warning: This isn’t baby’s first board game.
Rite demands a certain kind of group. You need players who are comfortable with ambiguity, who enjoy intuiting meaning rather than being handed it. People who are ok not talking much during a game—and who secretly love the idea of not knowing whether they’re helping or sabotaging their friends.
A Cult Classic in the Making?
With the final version of Rite set to be released by Osprey Games in fall 2024, Emmerson and his team are putting the final touches on production—fine-tuning the component quality and ensuring that the game feels luxurious and strange without being impractical or too obscure.
He’s the first to say that Rite likely won’t be for everyone. But for the right group of players—those who crave something a little eerie, a little opaque, and deeply social—it might just be a hidden gem.
”It’s experimental,” Emmerson admits. ”I wanted to design something that feels uncomfortable and atmospheric. Like a shared dream—one where you don’t know what it meant until you wake up.”
And maybe not even then.
Your turn:
Ever played a social deduction game where talking wasn’t allowed? How would you feel playing a game where you’re not even sure what side you’re on? Jump into the comments!