r/RPGdesign

Maybe it’s just me but I keep seeing the same setting posted over and over again. It’s sort of fantasy-ish, the world has been destroyed, it’s dark and dangerous and you’re one of the few who brave to go out there.

It’s never completely over the top grimdark like Warhammer 40k, it’s not deeply melancholic like Shadows of the Colossus, it’s just kind of bleak and bland and it feels like reading the same thing every time.

Darker settings can work great but think they need to be a bit self-aware and not take themselves too 100% seriously. Allow room for fun. If it’s all just bleak and dark and dangerous and no hope, why do I sit there with my friends and go explore it.

I think the strength of a dark settings is that it makes the lights that are there shine brighter. But you’ve got to have those lights, otherwise the setting just reads depressing.

One uses D20, other 2D10, another uses 3D6, other may use 1D12+1D8, where the dices have different meanings for the class/character?

Hello, I'm developing a system with my friends where players act as ghosts reincarnated and they have a Debt: they have to exorcize 100 ghosts to go to the afterlife or live as an human being again.

It's like Gantz (manga) meets Uber. The theme is to work to pay this supernatural Debt while every other ghost try to work too and kill you.

Every player has a level of Stress that ranges from 0 to 10. Every test in the game is a d10 rolled against your Stress Level. If it's equal or higher, you pass. Every test to be made costs +1 Stress and failing costs +1 Stress too.

if you reach 10 Stress, you are in Burnout and the GM decides your fate on the scene, then it restarts your Stress Level back to zero.

The character creation is simple by now, the player defines himself by a short phrase (his Resumé) and chooses up to 3 Work Ethics. A Work Ethic is a phrase that starts by "I'm good at...". Every roll related to a Work Ethic doesn't cost Stress to be made. The Work Ethic can't be just a verb, it has to be focused (like "I'm good at fighting with swords). For every Work Ethic, the player must choose an equal number of Disadvantages, they are structured in the same way and costs the double amount of Stres in related tests.

The combat is a test against test, the players envolved rolls their Work Dice against Stress Level. The side with the difference that is higher wins. An attack can result in 3 different effects:

- Add 1 Stress on the victim;

- Add 1 Wound on the victim;

- Add a Condition on the victim.

A Wound is a way to reduce Stress. Players can reduce their Stress Level by 1 adding 1 Wound on their sheet. The maximum Wound they can get is 5. After that, the player is "dying" and its fate depends on the character that made the last wound.

The game is not focused mainly on tactics and combat, and more the stress to "work" on these terms and to administrate this stress.

It will have a magic system that grants more Stress to the damage, more wounds, other feats, conditions to make, etc. This magic system is like a Loan, the Entity of the Debt loans a supernatural ability to the players in exchange of something valuable.

what do you think?

I'm working on a game where the PCs play investigators sent by the government to research and hunt the dangerous paranormal. So ghosts, vampires, fey, demons, etc.

I've got a neat system (at least I think so) based on my homemade Ghostbusters game (built on the old 80s RPG, but with more mechanics), but expanded and set in a different time period (and obvs not tied to that IP).

I'm curious as to what you all think would be a cooler setting/time period:

- 1870s Wild West

- 1870s Europe

- 1950s US (likely a major east coast city)

- 1970s US (LA)

- something else (describe in a comment)

Hey all! Quick question:

I've been making my creatures and landscapes with a watercolor paint and ink on paper. I've been making my playable races as digital watercolor. They'll be in different parts of the book. They will all be quarter page or smaller pieces because I've only been doing visual art for two weeks and the quality is mid.

Are the different styles too dissimilar? Or does it work for different things (monsters vs people) in different book chapters to have different styles? Thanks!

https://preview.redd.it/sa2zew474lug1.png?width=1024&format=png&auto=webp&s=dac0ae0023f778400d6a4d28875539c559929375

https://preview.redd.it/d3dfjw474lug1.png?width=1024&format=png&auto=webp&s=efaa17390583be5d0ca30219374c9bde885314fc

https://preview.redd.it/q2qupz474lug1.png?width=968&format=png&auto=webp&s=93213a4fe845728900369656ce2f564e2689dcc1

https://preview.redd.it/abazzz474lug1.jpg?width=4032&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=2f42ab8ca7ecbab3b453d70dd0b2f6cfc1e35712

https://preview.redd.it/mqr2i3574lug1.jpg?width=4032&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=d9523e0041e68e40b3043054601f9ad7b4a499e0

https://preview.redd.it/ketmdz474lug1.jpg?width=4032&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=9a7c3b5ccf6c77529d0fc4e7c777392c054eef99

https://preview.redd.it/hhm1dz474lug1.jpg?width=4032&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=b293d9bb0444c3bdc265a63578c34267d66bc7e2

https://preview.redd.it/4y0j73574lug1.jpg?width=3024&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=2a004e378dfb24c0660661966070235e70e5b578

https://preview.redd.it/mb88l0574lug1.jpg?width=4015&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=ab5b278db771ae720cf7426a4fbac455ae8fa627

https://preview.redd.it/o639w0574lug1.jpg?width=2146&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=b73a8f028d0fdd17ecdb438813259fe300570203

https://preview.redd.it/3rk8m1574lug1.jpg?width=3941&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=9397f703e8be094160659d53d287e5f5574a38dd

(The physical art will have better quality photos or scans than this)

I've got 2 systems under my belt, and a looooot of good ol D&D (5E), and while my custom systems can pretty easily do combat better than D&D, it's never been what my players remember. They care about the weirdo NPCS with the funny voices and long dialogues with me as them. I don't know how I can transfer these little weirdos into a GM-less system if I just let cards and randomizers decide for them. Do I just instead of GM-less make it GM-ALL where everyones sorta a GM. Agh

Like the title says,

i want to build a JRPG-ish Game, so if you have cool ideas what should be included i'd appreciate a comment.

My Main focus right now is how the battles should be played out so it's not like Final Fanatsy 1 as a reference, in which the normal monster encounters feel unimportant and too easy. Also working on Skills which are Combo/Set-Bonus and Debuff orientated for specific elements.

Also if you are interested to build the game together you can contact me.

I'm thinking about creating a game that explore paranormal activities and investigations. Kinda like Hellboy, but not in the same time period (I havent decided on a time period or setting). We're talking everything from ghosts to vampires, chupavabras to chthulhus.

Anyways, I'n building a list of items these investigators might use. Besides guns, what are some other objects/weapons paranormal investigators would use in these investigations?

I feel like a head is important to an RPG, no? I think a central voice VS voice is needed, but if the voice is always shifting that may get confusing. I do not know what to do.

EDIT:
I work fast, I made a basic system now, using rotating GM system. Assuming 4 players, 1 player plays a GM and the others of aspects of a fractured mind of a medieval knight ala Harry DuBois. Every big scene shift the GM shifts around.

Everybody is aiming for the knight to follow their aspect of the mind, so the player of "brutality" wants the knight to kill a man. If that player becomes GM he'll do something to achieve his goal, like a hobo with a knife approaches the knight. BUT to achieve his goal he needs the knight to actually do it, so if the knight is being controlled by, say, mercy, humanity, and honor, they won't do it, and he fails his mission to get the knight to kill a man

I’ve been quietly working on a dark fantasy TTRPG trilogy. The story itself is finished, but I’m struggling with the title.

At the moment, it’s called “Shattered Crown,” but I’m worried it might be a bit too generic.

The core plot revolves around a century-old conflict that weakened a monarchy. As the story unfolds, the players gradually discover they’re connected to it, and, depending on their choices, they can either break what remains or help restore it.

What does the title make you feel when you hear it? There are no wrong answers, I’m trying to understand the impression it creates before I put it on a cover.

On this National Board Game Day, come and take a glimpse Behind the Veil with us… 

Early on in of Hearth and Horror’s development, we knew we wanted to build a TTRPG experience that prioritizes horror, survival, and high-stakes choices. Initially, this was a challenge for us since so much of horror is based on the agreements between the players and the Conteur’s ability to tell a horror story. While the vibe in of Hearth and Horror still benefits from players and Conteurs agreeing to engage with fear, we worked hard to design of Hearth and Horror’s mechanics to radiate survival-horror, while still maintaining the flexibility of an RPG experience. In this week’s Dev Diary, let’s talk about bringing fear to the table.

We have always been massive survival-horror fans, particularly in the game play styling of the Resident Evil franchise and their associated board games. The games’ insistence on inducing dread, through the player’s attempts at choosing the best path forward, envelops the player as they are faced with dire decision after dire decision - is it better to clear this monster-filled hallway with my remaining bullets, or sacrifice some health to barrel past? It dawned upon us that this inherent fear of “will I be able to make it?” can become “do I have enough resources to make it?” as resources continue to fall through the cracks. Through endless discussion, we decided to root of Hearth and Horror’s game play in the risks and high stakes associated with resource management and an atmosphere designed to evoke the essence of survival-horror. 

Resource management is a key factor in nearly every survival-horror story. With of Hearth and Horror, this quickly developed into our core focus on costs. Whether that cost is food and water, the individual items in your pack, or your Character’s health, every game action taken comes at some sort of cost to the players. These range from simple costs, such as expending a musket ball and powder to shoot down a rampaging Abomination, to more dire ones, such as suffering a major wound after failing to jump over a gap. Decision-making throughout of Hearth and Horror, and their consequences based on how successfully you roll, centers around expending something, and managing the successive anxiety of consistently dwindling resources. A core mechanic that of Hearth and Horror hinges on is the idea of each Character’s Sanity as one of these expendable resources. Stay tuned for more on Sanity in one of our next Dev Diary entries. 

In many TTRPGs, there is a “hero’s power fantasy” that builds up as characters grow, eventually leading to cases where it can feel hard to truly fail. While these power fantasies can definitely be fun, it often comes without lasting consequences that cannot be resolved overnight. This led to our second core horror belief: managing player empowerment. In survival-horror, there is a middle ground between being overpowered (like in Resident Evil 5) and being unable to defend yourself (as in Outlast) that creates a Goldilocks effect with the question of “Do I have enough to overcome this?” of Hearth and Horror’s character development system was designed around this very question, and while you are able to unlock special abilities that feel powerful and game-changing, we aim to keep high stakes and danger elevated in our system so players get the feeling of becoming powerful without becoming over-powered. This key, fearful question should always linger in of Hearth and Horror’s game play. You can only overcome the Uncharted with preparation and teamwork, or you can run away. Going in ‘guns blazing’ is still an option, but we wanted to put a higher emphasis on the brutality and risk of these choices when they are not fully thought out and coordinated.

Player engagement and willingness to dive into horror will always be a key component to any tabletop survival-horror game. While of Hearth and Horror can be played in any preferred genre (we have definitely had our fair share of laughs while playing), we sought to create a lingering, dread-filled atmosphere throughout our game design, in order to cement players and Conteurs, alike, into a persistent survival-horror mindset. 

In order to make this theme come to life, of Hearth and Horror’s Player’s Almanac is designed to look like a field journal cobbled together by a group of unlucky explorers. It is filled with hand-drawn original Abominations and landscapes in what appears to be hastily-produced charcoal. The book is presented with cut outs, art smudges, and bloody streaks to make it feel like a print version of found footage that endured endless disaster. While engagement with the horror comes down to agreements made during each table’s session 0, we aim to provide players with all the tools to persist through the fog of dread. 

We look forward to diving deeper into the horror with you soon. Until our next diary entry…

Stay Cool!

TL;DR: of Hearth and Horror seeks to create a genuine survival-horror experience at the tabletop with mechanics such as giving each action some form of lasting ‘cost,’ managing player power fantasies to maintain the “am I powerful enough to survive this?” question, and providing materials that build a lingering atmosphere of unsure horror. 

When Orgen was young and had lost his father, he found care and attention from the villagers. They helped him and stood by him, but as he grew older, he began to see that attention as a weakness—something that made him dependent on others. He didn’t want to be seen that way, so he completely changed his perspective: instead of needing attention, he wanted to be the source of it.

He sought power, not just to be strong, but to make others look up to him with admiration. He rescued people from bandits, protected villages, and quelled chaos. On the surface, he was helping, but deep down, he wasn’t doing it solely out of kindness; he did it to feel proud, to prove to himself and others that he was someone worthy of respect.

Over time, he achieved real accomplishments. He saved villages and earned the loyalty of men who followed him on his journey. But like any human, he didn’t just want loyalty; he wanted recognition. He wanted to be praised by the highest class: the nobility and the king.

But that didn’t happen.

Despite all he had done, he was not considered one of them. In the eyes of the nobility, he remained merely a peasant from a village. They gave him the title of “Baron” and a remote piece of land, as if they were banishing him to a distant place rather than elevating him among them. This struck a deep blow to his pride.

He was the one who protected the kingdom from rebellions and wiped out the bandits, while the nobility claimed this role for themselves.

That’s when he decided to disappear.

Before the start of Orgen’s journey, there was a merchant.

This merchant started from scratch. No name, no lineage, just a mind and hard work. He built a massive fortune, then bought the title of “Baron,” and eventually rose to “Count.” And there he stopped, because what came after that could not be bought. The title of “Duke” required royal blood, which he did not possess.

This is where his real problem emerged.

He had money, armies, and influence in more than one kingdom. But when he sits with kings, he remains a guest. He lacks the legitimacy with which they were born. In their world, lineage matters more than achievement, and that is what he could not change with money.

That is why he stopped trying to buy his way in… Instead, he decided to build a kingdom of his own, a kingdom that would make him a king with a legitimacy no one could deny.

And the kingdom he chose was the Kingdom of Orgen.

The merchant did not act randomly; rather, he understood the king’s nature well. He knew the king was arrogant, saw himself as superior to others, and despised those without noble lineage. For this reason, the merchant did not try to prove himself to the king; instead, he deliberately made himself appear inferior.

In the king’s eyes, he was merely a merchant who had bought the title of “Count” in another kingdom, with no true noble family. The same condescending gaze with which King Orgen looked down on others, he would apply to the merchant as well.

But the difference between them was vast.

Orgen refused to be seen as weak, so he tried to prove himself through force.

As for the merchant, he accepted this view… because he needed it.

The more the king belittled him, the closer he got to him. The merchant began lending him money, exploiting his arrogance and misjudgment. Over time, the debts began to grow.

At the same time, he was building something else in the shadows.

He established gangs within the kingdom and started small rebellions—not enough to overthrow the regime, but enough to annoy and weaken him. The goal wasn’t total chaos, but to create a constant problem.

After that, he used one of his noblemen to convince the king of a “logical” solution:

hand over the regions where the rebellions were taking place to the merchant in exchange for repayment of part of the debt, on the condition that the merchant would take care of eliminating the rebels.

The king saw this as a clever solution. He would get rid of the debt and remove the threat from himself.

But the truth was that the merchant controlled both sides.

He was the one who created the problem, and he would be the one to appear as its solution.

As soon as he acquired the land, he began “cleansing” it of rebels—that is, he cut off the support he had been providing them. It appeared as though he had restored stability. Then, he used agreements and debts to legitimize his control over these territories, step by step.

The plan is clear: enter as a merchant, establish influence, then turn that influence into control.

But there was one element he hadn’t accounted for.

Orgen

All the bandits and rebellions that the merchant supported… were quelled before they could grow. Orgen, driven by his pride and desire to prove himself, would hunt down these problems and put an end to them quickly.

Without realizing it, he was undermining the merchant’s plan.

Every time he wiped out a gang or quelled a rebellion, he severed a part of the Merchant’s network. This forced the Merchant to rebuild time and again, slowing his progress.

That is why, when Orgen disappeared… the Merchant didn’t just see an opportunity.

He saw that the only obstacle standing in his way had finally vanished.

The merchant seized this moment immediately.

Orgen’s disappearance was an opportunity, and he wasn’t about to let it slip away. The first step was to confirm it. He sent out his spies, and once he was certain Orgen was truly gone, he began to move quickly. He spread rumors: that the king and the nobles were responsible for his disappearance.

The rumors ignited anger. Rebellions began to spread, and the king found himself besieged from within. So he decided to withdraw the army to the capital to protect himself, rather than protect the borders.

And here the merchant began to reap the rewards.

Because of the debts, the king handed over some lands to him. He believed he was solving two problems: paying off the debt and making the merchant face the rebels in his place.

So he returned to his original plan, but this time with greater ruthlessness, fearing that another Orgen might emerge.

The army to crush the rebellion

But the merchant did not possess a traditional army.

He had no kingdom, no banner, and no officially recognizable army. But he possessed something far more dangerous: money. Enough money to buy the best fighters from several kingdoms. His army consisted of professional mercenaries, fighting for pay, not loyalty.

He entered as a merchant, exploited the chaos, bought the land, and then surrounded himself with an unofficial military force and external political cover.

And most importantly of all…

He did all this while appearing, on the surface, to be merely a man solving the kingdom’s problems.

And this is where the fighting truly began.

The rebellious people were not scattered this time. In several regions, loyal men of Orgen took up the leadership. They knew the land, they knew how to fight, and most importantly, they fought with a clear motive: to protect what they saw as their right, and to defend Orgen’s legacy.

On the other side, the mercenaries brought in by the merchant advanced.

The difference between the two sides was clear:

Orgen’s men fought with conviction, but their organization was loose.

The mercenaries fought professionally, with organization and discipline, but without any connection to the land.

The battles were not a single confrontation, but a series of skirmishes:

Ambushes on the roads.

Rapid attacks on caravans.

Sieges of villages and small towns.

Orgen’s men used their knowledge of the terrain, moving quickly to strike and then withdraw.

The mercenaries responded with a different approach: a slow advance, securing key points, then taking control of them one by one.

And over time, the difference began to show.

The mercenaries did not suffer mental fatigue from prolonged fighting, because they did not carry the burden of the cause.

As for Orgen’s men, every loss struck at their morale, because they were fighting in the name of someone who was no longer there.

The absence of a leader is a real problem

Orgen’s men were used to something simple:

One word is spoken… and everyone obeys.

Orgen was not just a fighter; he was the decision-maker. He ended debates, set the direction, and made everyone move as one.

After his disappearance, that disappeared with him.

Every squad leader began acting as they saw fit.

There was no complete agreement, no unified plan.

Orders conflicted, and communication was delayed or lost.

In battle, this meant immediate defeat.

A deeper problem emerged.

The villagers, who had joined the fight, were not real fighters.

They had motivation, but no experience.

At first, their numbers gave them strength.

But over time, their lack of experience began to show:

They were slow to react.

They didn’t know when to retreat.

They were easily exposed to the mercenaries.

And that’s when the balance began to shift.

Not just because the merchant was stronger,

but because the other side had grown weaker from within.

And after a period of well-known strife, numerous funerals, and human and material losses

Orgen appeared. He was in a spot in the forest where he had built a hut and lived all this time, paying no attention to what was happening in the kingdom.

Today he was short on candles and salt for cooking, so he went hunting for something he could trade for salt and candles.

He hunted a deer, skinned it, cleaned it, and carried it to the village where he used to trade.

In that village, he saw children playing. What were they playing?

They were carrying a straw doll, as one would carry a wounded person. They walked quickly with it, a strange seriousness on their faces, until they reached a little girl sitting in front of dried grass. She was the “herbalist.”

She took the doll, looked at it, touched it… then shook her head.

No cure.

No discussion, no further attempt.

The children take the doll, place it on the ground, and dig a small hole with their hands. They bury it. Then they stand for a few seconds in silence.

Complete silence.

Immediately afterward… they laugh and run, as if nothing had happened.

Orgen didn’t move.

The children aren’t imitating a game… they’re imitating reality.

Death is no longer a foreign concept to them; it has become part of their daily lives, even in their play.

And in that moment, they understood one thing.

This is not an unsolvable problem…

but a problem that was left to grow.

What did Orgen do?

He forgot why he came. He turned back toward the hut

On his way, he handed the deer to a man he met and said, “Distribute it among the children.”

And here, Orgen awoke from his arrogance and realized the consequences of his actions.

And now begins his journey to regroup his men and drive out the invaders.

This is the part where I need help—due to the many supporting characters and events—I hope you can assist me.

The ending doesn’t begin with a victory… but with a moment of calm that follows it.

Orgen returns, gathers his men, and leads them once more. This time, not as a hidden shadow, but as a clear leader. The battles are fierce, but different. There is one goal: to drive the mercenaries out of the areas they have taken over.

Gradually, they reclaim the land.

The mercenaries retreat or are defeated.

The villages return to their people.

And the day comes when they stand together after the final battle.

No shouting. No grand celebration. Just a heavy sense of victory.

Here, in his moment of greatest strength… Orgen chooses to speak.

No one asks him for an explanation.

No one forces him.

But he does.

He tells them that his disappearance wasn’t just because of the king or the nobles. It wasn’t merely injustice that drove him to withdraw.

He was waiting.

Waiting for the moment when they would come to him and admit their mistake.

Waiting to be asked to return, not to choose it himself.

He wanted to receive the acknowledgment, the status, and the praise… all at once.

His resignation wasn’t just an escape… it was a bargaining chip.

And worse than that—

he watched the kingdom crumble… and did nothing.

Here he falls silent.

And he doesn’t defend himself.

This is the hardest moment, not because it’s a sign of weakness… but because it came when he was in a position of strength. A man who had triumphed, who didn’t need to justify himself, but chose to confess.

The silence that follows is different.

It’s not a respectful silence… but a heavy one.

Then the truth begins to emerge among his men.

Orgen’s men were not all the same.

Some followed him because he truly changed their lives.

A man who saved his mother from thieves.

Another who saved him from certain death.

These men do not look at his motives… but at what he did for them.

For them, the outcome remains the same.

He saved them. And that is enough.

These men don’t say much.

But they don’t walk away.

On the other hand…

There are those who followed him because they saw him as a role model.

They saw strength in him, honor—a man who does what’s right simply because it’s right.

They built their image of him on that foundation.

And when they hear the truth… that image crumbles.

Not because Orgen didn’t do good,

but because the reason wasn’t what they thought.

These people are more affected.

Some don’t get angry; they just take a step back.

As if they’re seeing a different person in front of them.

And some ask a simple question, but a heavy one:

“If we didn’t need you… would you have come back?”

This question doesn’t need a long answer.

Because it reveals everything.

Orgen doesn’t run away this time.

He doesn’t make excuses, nor does he sugarcoat his words.

He stands… and bears it.

Here the real change appears.

Not in his strength, nor in his victory,

but in the fact that he no longer needs to be seen as perfect.

His men are divided… but not entirely.

Because the truth doesn’t erase what happened,

it only changes its meaning.

And in the end, no one remains who sees him as a flawless hero…

but only those who choose to stay despite knowing everything.