What is the best milieu/environment/setting for a RPG or CRPG?

[Bocian]

State which setting you believe is best suited for P&P and/or computer roleplaying games AND WHY.

For example, fantasy settings are a natural choice due to the openness and lack of constraints from a conceptual standpoint. Unlike sci-fi, which has to have some roots grounded in our real-life experiences to remain within that genre, fantasy is about as open-ended as you can get. Fantastical creatures, physics-altering magic, mind-bending landscapes, etc.

You might instead choose post-apocalyptic because of the inherent danger and dread its concept conjures. You've got the possibility of things like mutations from nuclear fallout, ultra violence from humanity stretched to its breaking point, and a distinct separation from our everyday lives while still hinting at things to come.

So what's your opinion?

Are you retarded?

Why don't you stop being an asshole and always judging people fucking piece of shit.







OT- I like all settings except standard boring fantasy(ie forgotten realms), and even then I don't mind if it's done well.

You take reddit spacings to a new level.

 

[Micormic]

State which setting you believe is best suited for P&P and/or computer roleplaying games AND WHY.

For example, fantasy settings are a natural choice due to the openness and lack of constraints from a conceptual standpoint. Unlike sci-fi, which has to have some roots grounded in our real-life experiences to remain within that genre, fantasy is about as open-ended as you can get. Fantastical creatures, physics-altering magic, mind-bending landscapes, etc.

You might instead choose post-apocalyptic because of the inherent danger and dread its concept conjures. You've got the possibility of things like mutations from nuclear fallout, ultra violence from humanity stretched to its breaking point, and a distinct separation from our everyday lives while still hinting at things to come.

So what's your opinion?

Are you retarded?

Why don't you stop being an asshole and always judging people fucking piece of shit.







OT- I like all settings except standard boring fantasy(ie forgotten realms), and even then I don't mind if it's done well.

You take reddit spacings to a new level.

You take being a depressed polish faggot to a whole new level.





















Do I quote you to remind you?

 

[Bocian]

State which setting you believe is best suited for P&P and/or computer roleplaying games AND WHY.

For example, fantasy settings are a natural choice due to the openness and lack of constraints from a conceptual standpoint. Unlike sci-fi, which has to have some roots grounded in our real-life experiences to remain within that genre, fantasy is about as open-ended as you can get. Fantastical creatures, physics-altering magic, mind-bending landscapes, etc.

You might instead choose post-apocalyptic because of the inherent danger and dread its concept conjures. You've got the possibility of things like mutations from nuclear fallout, ultra violence from humanity stretched to its breaking point, and a distinct separation from our everyday lives while still hinting at things to come.

So what's your opinion?

Are you retarded?

Why don't you stop being an asshole and always judging people fucking piece of shit.







OT- I like all settings except standard boring fantasy(ie forgotten realms), and even then I don't mind if it's done well.

You take reddit spacings to a new level.

You take being a depressed polish faggot to a whole new level.





















Do I quote you to remind you?

Remind me about what?
























That you are a

Spoiler

faggot?

 

[JarlFrank]

All settings can be good if done well obviously.

But what I'm really missing is 70s-80s style pulpy sword and sorcery and scifi/sword and planet.

 

[Egosphere]

I like steampunk aesthetics, so a steampunk world of some sort is always welcome. It's also pretty versatile, since you can make a steampunk game that meets more traditional fantasy ( kind of like Arcanum when you're playing a tech. oriented character ), or one that's post apocalyptic, or one that is neither and is just straight up fantastical.

 

[Shin]

any setting can obviously be good if well executed, but here are some settings I'd like to see:

- alternative history RPG set in WW2 where a bunch of bizarre fantasy races would be helping either the allies or the axis, might be set in Switzerland where you could side with either faction or walk your own path, having a big mystery and stuffs
- RPG set in low-magic setting during the dawn of humanity where you could pick from several 'homo' species, including neanderthals (obviously wouldnt be 'factual', but interesting nonetheless), tribes ruling the various parts of lands and heck maybe some ancient alien type of technological civ included
- aquatic rpg where you'd play as a race of fish, obviously carrying human characteristics (since it'll have to be written be humans, doh) exploring the mysterious deep oceans
- RPG set in far future where you'd play as some sort of AI/robot/cyborg-human, humanity has been wiped out for millenia and are the stuffs of myths and legends

etc etc.

I like weird shit.

 

[RNGsus]

I've wanted Arkane to return to Arx and the wider world for years, but apprehensive that they're owned by Beth Soft. The Travelers Guild intrigued me quite a bit; I'd like to be a ranger in the Travelers Guild, escorting merchants, kings and sorcerers between underworlds.

 

[Life of the Party]

The Sun has died.

Not a planet, not a star, shines in the black heavens.

The Days of Light are less than a legend, their stories mouldered to dust amid the chaos of the ancient Libraries.

Yet, within their vast arcology, the last Millions of humanity live and thrive.

Outside, the huge entities of the Night Land watch — and wait.

The Last Redoubt has stood ten million years, and may stand ten million years more, but its final fall is inevitable.

The Land is as unknown as the depths of space. It holds life, some of it remotely akin to humanity. Fires burn and and shadows creep; cities and lights lie still; clothed and shrouded walkers glide forth.

Other Creatures, vaster than hills and slower and more ponderous than glaciers, wait eternally.

Forces stir in the darkness. Messages pass across the Land. From the tower above the Redoubt, the Monstruwacans keep record.

To this Land go the explorers of the Redoubt.

Rarely, rarely, they return.

 

[Kalin]

Fading Suns

 

[Daedalos]

Sci-Fi without any doubt, and if you disagree, then fuck you.

ANYTHING except fantasy in all its forms, subforms and genres, really.

 

[aweigh]

depends on the creator's race

 

[Citizen]

Fading Suns

 

[vazha]

Mid and late medieval pseudo-historic would be my dream choice. Crusades of every kind, Mongol invasions, 100 Years war, Reconquista, you name it and I ll play. Slightly less interested in Asian settings but it still beats killin orcs and goblins for the greater good.

 

[Life of the Party]

Years ago, my friend Perithoös went into the Night Lands. His whole company had perished in their flesh, or had been Destroyed in their souls. I am awake in the night, and I hear his voice.

Our law is that no man can go into the Night Lands without the Preparation, and the capsule of release; nor can any man with bride or child to support, nor any man who is a debtor, or who knows the secrets of the Monstruwacans; nor a man of unsound mind or unfit character; nor any man younger than twenty-two years; and no woman, ever.

The last remnant of mankind endures, besieged, in our invulnerable redoubt, a pyramid of gray metal rising seven miles high above the volcano-lit gloom, venom-dripping ice-flows, and the cold mud-deserts of the Night Lands. Our buried grain fields and gardenlands delve another one hundred miles into the bedrock.

Night-Hounds, Dire Worms, and Lumbering Behemoths are but the visible part of the hosts that afflict us; monsters more cunning than these, such as the Things Which Peer, and Toiling Giants, and Those Who Mock, walk abroad, and build their strange contrivances, and burrow their tunnels. Part of the host besieging us is invisible; part is immaterial; part is we know not what.

There are ulterior beings, forces of unknown and perhaps unimaginable power, which our telescopes can see crouching motionless on cold hillsides to every side of us, moving so slowly that their positions change, if at all, only across the centuries. Silent and terrible they wait and watch, and their eyes are ever upon us.

Through my open window I can hear the roar and murmur of the Night Lands, or the eerie stillness that comes when one of the Silent Ones walk abroad, gliding in silence, shrouded in gray, down ancient highways no longer trod by any man, and the yammering monsters cower and hush

Before me is a brazen book of antique lore, which speaks of nigh-forgotten times, now myth, when the pyramid was bright and strong, and the Earth-Current flowed without interruption.

Men were braver in those days, and an expedition went north and west, beyond the land of the abhumans, seeking another source of the Earth-Current, fearing the time when the chasm above which our pyramid rests might grow dark. And the book said Usire (for that was the name of the Captain), had his men build a stronghold walled of living metal, atop the fountain-head of this new source of current; and they reared a lofty dome, around was set a great circle charged with spiritual fire; and they drove a shaft into the rock.

One volume lays open before me now, the whispering thought-patterns impregnated into its glistening pages murmuring softly when I touch the letters. In youth, I found this book written in a language dead to everyone but me. It was this book that persuaded the lovely Hellenore (in violation of all law and wisdom) to sneak from the safety of the pyramid into the horror-haunted outer lands.

Perithoös had no choice but to follow. This very book I read slew my boyhood friend—if indeed he is dead.

Through the casement above me, the cold air blows. Some fume not entirely blocked by the Air-Clog that surrounds our pyramid stings my nose. Softly, I can hear murmurs and screams as a rout of monsters passes along a line of dark hills and crumbling ruins in the West, following the paths of lava-flows that issue from a dimly-shining tumble of burning mountains.

More softly, I can hear a voice that seems human, begging to be let in. It is not the kind of voice that one hears with the ear. I am not the only thing awake in the night.

Scholars who read of the most ancient records say the world was not always as it is now. They say it was not always night, then; but what it may have been if it were not unending night, the records do not make clear.

Certain dreamers—once or twice a generation, we are born, the great dreamers whose dreams reach beyond the walls of time—tell of aeons older than the scholars tell. The dreamers say there was once a vapor overhead, from which pure water fell, and there was no master of the pump-house to ration it; they say the air was not an inky darkness whence fell voices cry.

In those days, there was in heaven, a brightness like unto a greater and lesser lamp, and when the greater lamp was hooded, then the upper air was filled with diamonds that twinkled.

Other sources say the inhabitants of heaven were not diamonds at all, but balls of gas, immeasurably distant, but visible through the transparent air. Still others say they were not gas, but fire. Somehow, despite all these contradictory reports, I have always believed in the days of light.

No proofs can be shown for these strange glimpses of times agone, but, when great dreamers sleep, the instruments of the Monstruwacans do not register the energies that are believed to accompany malign influence from beyond the walls. If it is madness to have faith in what the ancients knew, it is madness natural to human kind, not a Sending meant to deceive us.

 

[J1M]

Deus Ex was a fun setting because it presented layers of conspiracies. They gave the player something to think about and discover over time. Something that tied together some semi-obscure real-world conspiracies would be interesting. Alternatively, I also enjoy fantastic landscapes. "Super-real" if you will. Impossibly deep canyons, a planet that is entirely covered in water, etc.

This is largely an academic discussion because these days there are too many people involved in the decision making and creative process to produce a unified and interesting vision. Regression to the mean is a very real problem.

In conclusion, my answer is simple and unconventional. The best setting for an RPG is one conceived of and curated to consistency by a single person.

 

[RNGsus]

Leaves a lot to the imagination. I like it. ^

 

[Swampy_Merkin]

Bacterial colonies on a marsupial nougat-poop.

Why? Why the fuck not?

 

[Life of the Party]

Here was Hellenore daughter of Eris. I see again the sheen of her satiny dress, as she sat beneath the rose lamp on a Lector’s chair too large for her delicate frame. How like a swan’s, her neck, all her mass of ink-black hair was gathered up and held in place with amethyst pins, jewel-drops like the stars the ancients knew, within the clear darkness of their temporary nights. I recall the delicate small hairs, wanton and wild, that had strayed from the strictness of her coiffure, and kissed the nape of her neck.

None of our pyramid has eyes like that, hair like that, save those descended from the strange blood of Mirdath the Beautiful. And none but me remembered the grace of the swan, and so none but me could see it in her.

 

[laclongquan]

The fall of a great empire and the formation of successor states. Aka The Fall of Rome, The death of Alexander and the Diadochi.

This is a defining point between western developers and eastern (chinese and japanese). Romance of Three Kingdom and the Sengoku era had been done to death. Yet the western leave the Roman Fall and Diadochi almost untouched.

Hell, the withdraw of Roman conquerors from Britania and the formation of kingdoms over there is almost untouched save for Arthur the RPG.

 

[Sigourn]

State which setting you believe is best suited for P&P and/or computer roleplaying games AND WHY.

If RPGs are about freedom, then yeah, fantasy settings are probably the best. In a very futuristic setting you would be restricted to characters that have access to money, knowledge, technology, and so on.

That said, my favorite settings are steampunk and cyberpunk. Also historical and mythological settings. A shame there's so few games set in those, as low and high fantasy tends to get old very quickly, and honestly I wish games simply used TES lore because every other fantasy lore I've seen so far sucks major dick and is cringy as fuck (looking at you D&D). Notable exception is The Witcher's universe, but that came from a book so it's not really a fair comparison.

 

[Kabas]

And fantasy that is actually fantastic would be nice, i think.

 

[fantadomat]

All settings are fine as long they are done well!

Still i would love to see something in a world like Torment or/and Acranum. Postapocalyptical setting is becoming a tad bit oversaturated. Fantasy on the other hand is always relaxing.

 

[Jedi Master Radek]

Spoiler

Years ago, my friend Perithoös went into the Night Lands. His whole company had perished in their flesh, or had been Destroyed in their souls. I am awake in the night, and I hear his voice.

Our law is that no man can go into the Night Lands without the Preparation, and the capsule of release; nor can any man with bride or child to support, nor any man who is a debtor, or who knows the secrets of the Monstruwacans; nor a man of unsound mind or unfit character; nor any man younger than twenty-two years; and no woman, ever.

The last remnant of mankind endures, besieged, in our invulnerable redoubt, a pyramid of gray metal rising seven miles high above the volcano-lit gloom, venom-dripping ice-flows, and the cold mud-deserts of the Night Lands. Our buried grain fields and gardenlands delve another one hundred miles into the bedrock.

Night-Hounds, Dire Worms, and Lumbering Behemoths are but the visible part of the hosts that afflict us; monsters more cunning than these, such as the Things Which Peer, and Toiling Giants, and Those Who Mock, walk abroad, and build their strange contrivances, and burrow their tunnels. Part of the host besieging us is invisible; part is immaterial; part is we know not what.

There are ulterior beings, forces of unknown and perhaps unimaginable power, which our telescopes can see crouching motionless on cold hillsides to every side of us, moving so slowly that their positions change, if at all, only across the centuries. Silent and terrible they wait and watch, and their eyes are ever upon us.

Through my open window I can hear the roar and murmur of the Night Lands, or the eerie stillness that comes when one of the Silent Ones walk abroad, gliding in silence, shrouded in gray, down ancient highways no longer trod by any man, and the yammering monsters cower and hush

Before me is a brazen book of antique lore, which speaks of nigh-forgotten times, now myth, when the pyramid was bright and strong, and the Earth-Current flowed without interruption.

Men were braver in those days, and an expedition went north and west, beyond the land of the abhumans, seeking another source of the Earth-Current, fearing the time when the chasm above which our pyramid rests might grow dark. And the book said Usire (for that was the name of the Captain), had his men build a stronghold walled of living metal, atop the fountain-head of this new source of current; and they reared a lofty dome, around was set a great circle charged with spiritual fire; and they drove a shaft into the rock.

One volume lays open before me now, the whispering thought-patterns impregnated into its glistening pages murmuring softly when I touch the letters. In youth, I found this book written in a language dead to everyone but me. It was this book that persuaded the lovely Hellenore (in violation of all law and wisdom) to sneak from the safety of the pyramid into the horror-haunted outer lands.

Perithoös had no choice but to follow. This very book I read slew my boyhood friend—if indeed he is dead.

Through the casement above me, the cold air blows. Some fume not entirely blocked by the Air-Clog that surrounds our pyramid stings my nose. Softly, I can hear murmurs and screams as a rout of monsters passes along a line of dark hills and crumbling ruins in the West, following the paths of lava-flows that issue from a dimly-shining tumble of burning mountains.

More softly, I can hear a voice that seems human, begging to be let in. It is not the kind of voice that one hears with the ear. I am not the only thing awake in the night.

Scholars who read of the most ancient records say the world was not always as it is now. They say it was not always night, then; but what it may have been if it were not unending night, the records do not make clear.

Certain dreamers—once or twice a generation, we are born, the great dreamers whose dreams reach beyond the walls of time—tell of aeons older than the scholars tell. The dreamers say there was once a vapor overhead, from which pure water fell, and there was no master of the pump-house to ration it; they say the air was not an inky darkness whence fell voices cry.

In those days, there was in heaven, a brightness like unto a greater and lesser lamp, and when the greater lamp was hooded, then the upper air was filled with diamonds that twinkled.

Other sources say the inhabitants of heaven were not diamonds at all, but balls of gas, immeasurably distant, but visible through the transparent air. Still others say they were not gas, but fire. Somehow, despite all these contradictory reports, I have always believed in the days of light.

No proofs can be shown for these strange glimpses of times agone, but, when great dreamers sleep, the instruments of the Monstruwacans do not register the energies that are believed to accompany malign influence from beyond the walls. If it is madness to have faith in what the ancients knew, it is madness natural to human kind, not a Sending meant to deceive us.

That was really nice.

 

[Theldaran]

I was about to say that.

Only I want the upper half to be fish, so it isn't beastiality. Can't help the smell though.

Upper half fish, lower half human is the way to go with mermaids. Unless you want to go boobjob, handjob or blowjob, that is. At least with anti-sirens you have footjobs available.

 

[Invictus]

Years ago, my friend Perithoös went into the Night Lands. His whole company had perished in their flesh, or had been Destroyed in their souls. I am awake in the night, and I hear his voice.

Our law is that no man can go into the Night Lands without the Preparation, and the capsule of release; nor can any man with bride or child to support, nor any man who is a debtor, or who knows the secrets of the Monstruwacans; nor a man of unsound mind or unfit character; nor any man younger than twenty-two years; and no woman, ever.

The last remnant of mankind endures, besieged, in our invulnerable redoubt, a pyramid of gray metal rising seven miles high above the volcano-lit gloom, venom-dripping ice-flows, and the cold mud-deserts of the Night Lands. Our buried grain fields and gardenlands delve another one hundred miles into the bedrock.

Night-Hounds, Dire Worms, and Lumbering Behemoths are but the visible part of the hosts that afflict us; monsters more cunning than these, such as the Things Which Peer, and Toiling Giants, and Those Who Mock, walk abroad, and build their strange contrivances, and burrow their tunnels. Part of the host besieging us is invisible; part is immaterial; part is we know not what.

There are ulterior beings, forces of unknown and perhaps unimaginable power, which our telescopes can see crouching motionless on cold hillsides to every side of us, moving so slowly that their positions change, if at all, only across the centuries. Silent and terrible they wait and watch, and their eyes are ever upon us.

Through my open window I can hear the roar and murmur of the Night Lands, or the eerie stillness that comes when one of the Silent Ones walk abroad, gliding in silence, shrouded in gray, down ancient highways no longer trod by any man, and the yammering monsters cower and hush

Before me is a brazen book of antique lore, which speaks of nigh-forgotten times, now myth, when the pyramid was bright and strong, and the Earth-Current flowed without interruption.

Men were braver in those days, and an expedition went north and west, beyond the land of the abhumans, seeking another source of the Earth-Current, fearing the time when the chasm above which our pyramid rests might grow dark. And the book said Usire (for that was the name of the Captain), had his men build a stronghold walled of living metal, atop the fountain-head of this new source of current; and they reared a lofty dome, around was set a great circle charged with spiritual fire; and they drove a shaft into the rock.

One volume lays open before me now, the whispering thought-patterns impregnated into its glistening pages murmuring softly when I touch the letters. In youth, I found this book written in a language dead to everyone but me. It was this book that persuaded the lovely Hellenore (in violation of all law and wisdom) to sneak from the safety of the pyramid into the horror-haunted outer lands.

Perithoös had no choice but to follow. This very book I read slew my boyhood friend—if indeed he is dead.

Through the casement above me, the cold air blows. Some fume not entirely blocked by the Air-Clog that surrounds our pyramid stings my nose. Softly, I can hear murmurs and screams as a rout of monsters passes along a line of dark hills and crumbling ruins in the West, following the paths of lava-flows that issue from a dimly-shining tumble of burning mountains.

More softly, I can hear a voice that seems human, begging to be let in. It is not the kind of voice that one hears with the ear. I am not the only thing awake in the night.

Scholars who read of the most ancient records say the world was not always as it is now. They say it was not always night, then; but what it may have been if it were not unending night, the records do not make clear.

Certain dreamers—once or twice a generation, we are born, the great dreamers whose dreams reach beyond the walls of time—tell of aeons older than the scholars tell. The dreamers say there was once a vapor overhead, from which pure water fell, and there was no master of the pump-house to ration it; they say the air was not an inky darkness whence fell voices cry.

In those days, there was in heaven, a brightness like unto a greater and lesser lamp, and when the greater lamp was hooded, then the upper air was filled with diamonds that twinkled.

Other sources say the inhabitants of heaven were not diamonds at all, but balls of gas, immeasurably distant, but visible through the transparent air. Still others say they were not gas, but fire. Somehow, despite all these contradictory reports, I have always believed in the days of light.

No proofs can be shown for these strange glimpses of times agone, but, when great dreamers sleep, the instruments of the Monstruwacans do not register the energies that are believed to accompany malign influence from beyond the walls. If it is madness to have faith in what the ancients knew, it is madness natural to human kind, not a Sending meant to deceive us.

Holy shit now I really want a game in that setting! It sounds fantastic