Embracing the Full Spectrum of Player Agency in TTRPGs

If you’ve ever spent more than a few sessions behind the DM screen, you’ve probably asked yourself at some point: How much control should my players really have? Do you build a story with branching options and let them go wherever their whims take them? Or do you guide them down a carefully constructed plotline, leading them to dramatic payoffs you’ve planned for weeks?   The truth is, there’s no one-size-fits-all answer to this question. Player agency isn’t a binary. It’s a spectrum, and understanding how to use the entire range—from complete freedom to subtle illusions of choice—is the secret to running truly great adventures.   Let’s talk about what agency really means, why it matters, and why the whole range—from sandboxes to linear storytelling —is valid when used with care and with player consent.  

What Is Player Agency, Really?

At its core, player agency is the ability for players to make meaningful choices that impact the game world. That doesn’t just mean deciding where to go next on the map—it means shaping the narrative through their actions. Do they spare the villain or execute him? Do they join the rebels or report them to the authorities? Do they fight the dragon—or try to talk to it?   But here’s the trick: agency isn’t just about having choices. It’s about those choices mattering. If the world doesn’t respond to what the players do—or worse, if it responds the same way no matter what—it starts to feel like the players are just along for the ride.   That said, complete freedom isn’t always the best solution either. Too much openness without structure can leave players overwhelmed, aimless, or disconnected from the story. That’s where understanding the full range of player agency comes in.  

The Sandbox: Maximum Freedom, Maximum Responsibility

On one end of the spectrum, we have the sandbox. This is where players can go anywhere, do anything, ignore your plot hooks, and chase down rumors you thought were throwaway flavor text. Sandbox campaigns thrive on reactivity—the world exists for the players to explore, manipulate, and change.   For groups who love exploration, faction politics, emergent narrative, and character-driven goals, sandbox games are paradise. They reward curiosity and creativity, and they produce some of the most memorable stories—not because you planned them, but because the players made them.   But there’s a downside: you can’t rely on pacing, payoff, or story arcs. You have to be willing to let go of the story you want to tell, and instead focus on creating a world that reacts rather than a plot that progresses. It’s improvisation-heavy, requires lots of prep flexibility, and some players may struggle if they aren’t sure what the "point" of the game is.   In other words: freedom is a gift, but not everyone wants to hold the map.  

Linear Storytelling: Structure as Storytelling

Now let’s ride on the rails. Linear storytelling —often labeled with the dirty word "railroading" in TTRPG spaces—has its place. When done well, a linear adventure can deliver a focused, cinematic experience with emotional arcs, story beats, and a clear sense of purpose.   When players agree to this kind of game, it becomes less of a trap and more of a guided tour: “We’re going on an epic journey, and while the destinations are mostly planned, how you act when you get there still matters.”   Think of it like a rollercoaster. You don’t get to choose the track layout, but you do choose how you ride it. You can scream, laugh, close your eyes, or throw your arms up. A good DM makes sure the ride is worth it—with emotional moments, dramatic decisions, and space for characters to shine.   Linear campaigns are perfect for:

• Horror (where losing control is part of the experience)

• Mystery and thriller stories (where plot pacing matters)

• Short campaigns or one-shots (where direction is crucial)

  But the key to making linear storytelling work is honesty. If the players think they’re in a sandbox, but everything they do leads to the same outcome, they’ll feel tricked. The illusion of choice can work—but only if the players agreed to the illusion up front.  

The Illusion of Choice: When Faking It Isn’t Failing

Ah yes, the classic “choose your path” that all leads to the same place.   Here’s the thing: the illusion of agency isn’t always bad. Sometimes it’s necessary to keep the narrative tight, especially when you have a big reveal or a central conflict that needs to happen. Players often don’t mind if their choices funnel them toward a key moment, as long as they feel like they had a say in how they got there.   This can look like:

• Choosing how to approach a problem (combat, stealth, diplomacy), even if the destination is the same.

• Deciding who to ally with, which influences character arcs or outcomes.

• Making moral decisions that color the story, even if the plot spine stays intact.

  Used sparingly, the illusion of choice keeps things moving while giving players the satisfaction of feeling in control. But beware: overuse it, and they’ll spot the strings. Once they realize they’re passengers instead of co-authors, trust can take a hit.  

The Spectrum in Practice: Choosing the Right Tool

So how do you decide how much agency to give? The answer lies in the social contract you’ve made with your players.   If they signed up for Undermountain or Curse of Strahd, they expect a certain amount of direction. If they joined your sprawling homebrew full of ancient ruins and mysterious factions, they expect freedom. And if you’re not sure? Talk to them.   Great campaigns use the entire agency spectrum:

• Sandbox moments for downtime, exploration, and character growth.

• Linear story arcs to deliver high-stakes drama or core plot beats.

• Illusions of choice to keep pacing smooth while preserving emotional investment.

• True choice when it matters most: moral dilemmas, world-shaping actions, relationships.

  Think of it like a jazz performance. There’s a structure underneath, but everyone’s improvising within it. Some nights you follow the sheet music, other nights you go off-script—but everyone knows the key you’re playing in.  

Final Thought: It’s About Ownership

Whether they’re in a sandbox or a linear plot, what players want most is to feel like the story belongs to them.   Not that they’re making everything up—but that their actions matter. That their victories are earned, their failures sting, and their choices shape the world—even if it’s just in how people remember them.   So embrace the spectrum. Don’t cling to one “correct” way of running a campaign. Know when to give up control, when to guide with a gentle hand, and when to take the reins—for everyone’s benefit.  

Great adventures aren’t about how open the map is. They’re about how much of it your players get to leave their mark on.

  Let them choose. Let them follow. Let them fall for your traps or break your plans. But above all, make it feel like theirs. That’s how you make an adventure unforgettable.