In which fictional universe would you like a game set

[aweigh]

a world in which chads didn't exist

 

[Maxwell's Demon]

a world in which chads didn't exist

A San Francisco RPG?

 

[Chippy]

RPG (maybe even an open world one) with the feel and tone of Lonesome Dove: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MKAWVRzqDlQ&list=PL4vvYOSxcfLMpxnNXQZF6qAqe8SIEgetW

 

[M. AQVILA]

A proper Warhammer fantasy or 40k RPG.

 

[Life of the Party]

Nushain the astrologer had studied the circling orbs of night from many far-separated regions, and had cast, with such skill as he was able to command, the horoscopes of a myriad men, women and children. From city to city, from realm to realm he had gone, abiding briefly in any place: for often the local magistrates had banished him as a common charlatan; or elsewise, in due time, his consultants had discovered the error of his predictions and had fallen away from him. Sometimes he went hungry and shabby; and small honor was paid to him anywhere. The sole companions of his precarious fortunes were a wretched mongrel dog that had somehow attached itself to him in the desert town of Zul-Bha-Sair, and a mute, one-eyed negro whom he had bought very cheaply on Yoros. He had named the dog Ansarath, after the canine star, and had called the Negro Mouzda, which was a word signifying darkness.

In the course of his prolonged itinerations, the astrologer came to Xylac and made his abode in its capital, Ummaos, which had been built above the shards of an elder city of the same name, long since destroyed by a sorcerer's wrath. Here Nushain lodged with Ansarath and Mouzda in a half-ruinous attic of a rotting tenement; and from the tenement's roof, Nushain was wont to observe the positions and movements of the sidereal bodies on evenings not obscured by the fumes of the city. At intervals some housewife or jade, some porter or huckster or petty merchant, would climb the decaying stairs to his chamber, and would pay him a small sum for the nativity which he plotted with immense care by the aid of his tattered books of astrological science.

When, as often occurred, he found himself still at a loss regarding the significance of some heavenly conjunction or opposition after poring over his books, he would consult Ansarath, and would draw profound auguries from the variable motions of the dog's mangy tail or his actions in searching for fleas. Certain of these divinations were fulfilled, to the considerable benefit of Nushain's renown in Ummaos. People came to him more freely and frequently, hearing that he was a soothsayer of some note; and, moreover, he was immune from prosecution, owing to the liberal laws of Xylac, which permitted all the sorcerous and mantic arts.

It seemed, for the first time, that the dark planets of his fate were yielding to auspicious stars. For this fortune, and the coins which accrued thereby to his purse, he gave thanks to Vergama who, throughout the whole continent of Zothique, was deemed the most powerful and mysterious of the genii, and was thought to rule over the heavens as well as the earth.

On a summer night, when the stars were strewn thickly like a firey sand on the black azure vault, Nushain went up to the roof of his lodging-place. As was often his custom, he took with him the negro Mouzda, whose one eye possessed a miraculous sharpness and had served well, on many occasions, to supplement the astrologer's own rather near-sighted vision. Through a well codified system of signs and gestures, the mute was able to communicate the result of his observations to Nushain.

 

[Apostle Hand]

interzone

you play as a junkie homosexual and get to fight other junkies and various monsters

kafkaesque universe-
you find yourself transformed into bug and must face your family in your new shape
you have been sentenced to death by unreacheable entity
you have to find mysterious castle as you have been called to get there
you live in series of caves anxiously awaiting monster who will get you

stories of thomas liggoti. you wander through endless piles of ruins for no reason at all meeting depressed people on the way.

stories of j.g. ballard-world of enthropy and decay.

stories of leonid andreyev-meet your doom as your whole family dies in front of you and you have no more reason to live.

 

[Oracsbox]

"you wander through endless piles of ruins for no reason at all meeting depressed people on the way."

Isn't that just called day to day life

 

[Draxylon]

Didn't like the books much. But did like the setting.

. What a wonderful cR
There's even an p&p rpg settings module fpr GURPS. What an amazing CRPG could be done with this. Probably a proper "sequel" for Planescape:Torment.

Gene Wolfe is pure

 

[Oracsbox]

 

[Nano]

I want a Buffy RPG. Maybe something based on this:

 

[dextermorgan]

Broken Earth, created by N. K. Jemisin

 

[Trojan_generic]

Budayeen. Will you side with the goatfuckers and do as the boss muslim says to maintain his reign, or will you work underground for a western power?
Good ending 1: you become the prime minister of the new puppet government you have helped install.
Good ending 2: you manage to nuclearly explode yourself in a Western capital, landing on a harem of 70 virgins.
Meh ending: you keep the status quo, leaving yourself happy and mostly intact (except for a few cybernetic add-ons you picked up on the way).

 

[Chippy]

We'll never see another film/game like Excalibur again unless it is made in eastern europe. A British one will invariably have each knight of the round table diversified. The lady of the lake will be a tranny. Lancelot will come out of the closet, become genderqueer and marry Arthur and they'll raise some poor kid to dance on a stripper pole on the round table while the knights throw 5 pound notes at him. And when he grows up, he'll turn into Mordred and massacre the whole fucking lot of them take the country into the next golden age of progression and equality.

 

[Frozen]

Helen Mirren had nice tits back in the day.

 

[Oracsbox]

Helen Mirren had nice tits back in the day.

The other great thing was she invariably got them out.

Spoiler

 

[Oracsbox]

We'll never see another film/game like Excalibur again unless it is made in eastern europe. A British one will invariably have each knight of the round table diversified. The lady of the lake will be a tranny. Lancelot will come out of the closet, become genderqueer and marry Arthur and they'll raise some poor kid to dance on a stripper pole on the round table while the knights throw 5 pound notes at him. And when he grows up, he'll turn into Mordred and massacre the whole fucking lot of them take the country into the next golden age of progression and equality.

I think the BBC already went down that path
Guinevere

Spoiler

 

[Chippy]

We'll never see another film/game like Excalibur again unless it is made in eastern europe. A British one will invariably have each knight of the round table diversified. The lady of the lake will be a tranny. Lancelot will come out of the closet, become genderqueer and marry Arthur and they'll raise some poor kid to dance on a stripper pole on the round table while the knights throw 5 pound notes at him. And when he grows up, he'll turn into Mordred and massacre the whole fucking lot of them take the country into the next golden age of progression and equality.

I think the BBC already went down that path
Guinevere

Spoiler

Inspired me to think of another setting: lets petition a white south african developer to create a game based on a popular African folklore tale (like Mamad: the man who never lied) ... and make him white.
Tag line: "The wise man never lies, and says only that, which he saw with his own eyes". He'd be more popular than Black Panther.

 

[Life of the Party]

I was overcome with awe, and fell to my face when I saw the Chronomancer walking slowly toward me along the balcony.

To my right, the thought-amplifying spyglasses looked out from the great embrasure upon the darkness and strange fires of the Night Lands, and I could see the shining eyes of the Great Watching Thing of the Southeast looking at me. The Thing was as mighty as a mountain, and about its forepaws, which had not moved in a million years or more, was encamped an army of Blind Ones, of Ogres, and of shaggy subhumans, of which more than half had stirred from the six thousand year paralysis, and had been stirring since the days of my grandfather's youth, and the reddish haze of severe space-distortion was all about them.

To my right, above me and below me were the other balconies, the windows and lamps of the Home of Man, and the Tower of the Monstruwacans, the monster-watchers, rose another mile above the topmost embrasures of the highest balconies. No other humans were nearby, not for miles: the cities of this level, and the ones below and above, had been deserted for half a million years. The cities were silent except for the whisper of the perfect machinery built by an ancestral people, and were empty of thought-action, except for those paeans known to hinder powers of the outside, soul-vibrations taken from the thought-records of departed sages of greatest spiritual power and wisdom. He and I were alone.

Once, when I was but a youth, I dreamed of the days of light. A vessel of wood, like a charger, but great enough to hold many men, was shattered on the sea: the crew was treading water, and with loud voices they called to each other, each man telling the other as he sobbed to remain strong and hopeful, and await the dawn.

In the dream this seemed no wonder, though I later would regret I had not slept long enough to see this marvel of the ancient world.

My father was in my hands, and he was weary and cold, and I gripped him, calling out his name, although the bitter sea wave entered my mouth whenever I spoke.

There were sharks in the waters, drawn by blood, and, one by one by one, the men to my left and right were yanked below the surface. The inconstant moon appeared and disappeared between silver-edged black clouds: and sometimes I would see the silhouette of some mate or well-liked crewman bobbing on the heaving waves. But then the water would rise and fall between us, and I could not see, or the moon would hide. Then, a moment later, there was fitful light again, and whoever I sought was gone. They made no screams as the jaws pulled them under, for they were too weary.

I remember the salt sea and the deadly cold. I remember trying to pull the wizened body of my father up onto my back, as if I could somehow lift him away from the sea. All I did was to push my own face below the dark waters

When I woke, the dreaming glass registered a time-tension of over twenty-five million years, farther by three aeons than any accurate records reached, farther than previous paleochronopathy had recovered through thought-echoes. Even the master academicians, dwelling in the egg-shaped crystal thought-chambers of their guild, their minds augmented by surgery and magnified by coherent streamers of Earth-Current, could not penetrate the spirals and angles of time so deeply as I, when merely an untrained boy, unaided, had done.

I knew then that my life was marked: if foretellers had not foreseen someone of my power, after-tellers, those who walk through the memories of their ancestors, would return from the future to seek me.

I was not entirely surprised. In a sense, I had been long awaiting this visitation.

Did I say I was alone, fallen prone before the stranger from another aeon? Not alone. None within this Last Redoubt can be alone. Our enemies are ever with us, unsleeping, tireless, horrid.

The Final Siege of Man has been since eight and a half million years ago, or so run the estimates of Paleochroniclers, who study those books written by earlier versions of the human race.

Uncounted millions of years before that, a great lamp stood in the upper darkness, called Sun. So long ago that only the time-dreams of the strongest mystics can confirm it, this lamp was quenched to an ember, removing all the light from the outer lands. Then came the hosts of Dark, seen and unseen. Between upper and nether and surrounding darkness, the terrors are encamped against us, patient beyond the limits of eternity.

The Great Redoubt stands seven miles and more, a mighty pyramid hulled in imperishable metal lit with a million lamps, above the haunted cold waste of the Night Land; and from our balconies, by the flares from firepits or by the smolder of volcano-flows, we see the beings move, those that can be seen to move, or loom in the darkness, large as living hills, motionless and watching, those that cannot. Beings from the far side of the life spectrum move also, but at so glacial a rate, that tens of thousands of years span the slowness of their approach against the walls of this last fortress of mankind.

On the low hill to the North stands the august and terrible House of Silence. Through the millions of years since the Watching Things have encamped against us to beleaguer our mountain-overtopping fortress, this small House of Silence has issued no sound, and not even the most sensitive of long range microphones have detected a whisper. There are lights seen in the casement, and yet these never move nor flicker, not in all of eternity. The main doors stand open. It is known that men lost in the darkness of the Night Lands will walk as if asleep into those open doors, and never speak or make a sound: those who enter do not emerge. The instruments of the Monstruwacans detect that this House is the center of the fields of influence that trouble the aether for many miles across the Night Lands, and most scholars agree it is the center of all the forces arrayed against us.

A silence filled the Night Land now. I could see the eyes of the Southeast Watching Thing scrutinizing the two of us. The yammering of the kiln giants was diminished, the pounding of their machinery which heats their buried dormitories; the Things Which Peer ceased to stir atop their half-unlit headland, and their hooting was quiet. The baying of the Night-Hounds ceased. A great hush seemed to fill the night. The lopsided ear of the Watching Thing to the Northwest could be seen, huge and motionless, against the dreary glow of the firepits beyond it. Surely our words did not escape that terrible, watchful malice.

Perhaps he and I could have removed to the center of the pyramid, or to the spot one hundred miles below our feet, where the deepest of our many buried acres of farms and gardenlands rest. It would have made no difference. The influence of the House of Silence was not impeded by mere solid objects.

 

[HoboForEternity]

i just read mistborn. surprised nobody made a game with that ruleset yet. allomancy works like videogame power, with each powers having its individual resources. hell the first fight scene feels like something from dishonored.

 

[Butter]

I might get flayed for saying it, but the Harry Potter world actually has a lot of potential for a cRPG. Nobody fights with swords in Harry Potter, which means the designers don't have to pretend that fighters and wizards need to be balanced classes. You could have a pseudo-Masquerade mechanic with trying to keep the wizarding world secret from the Muggles. There's a lot of history alluded to in the stories that a game could cover; it wouldn't be obligated to be contemporary/about Voldemort.

 

[Broseph]

interzone

you play as a junkie homosexual and get to fight other junkies and various monsters

I'm already living in this game universe.

 

[BANANA CONDUCT]

The world from The Edge Chronicles.

Pretty cool children's book series with a neat artstyle and concepts, in a quirky setting. It has various interesting locations you could do a lot with in a video game. It also has floating rocks, a city on a floating rock(attached via chain to a regular, way slummier city, as pictured below), floating ships, floating pirate ships, floating creatures, and naturally, the world itself is floating in a clouded void.
Really, I'm mostly attracted to the floating.

Spoiler

Despite the title, it's only medium edgy but the edge on the setting would not be difficult at all to crank way up, if such was the inclination.

 

[hexer]

We need proper Conan and Cthulhu RPGs.
Someone with a genius vision behind the games.

Also, I would like to return to the world of Planescape.

 

[aeroaeko]

The "Book of the New Sun" series by Gene Wolfe seems really interesting but I'm not sure it would translate to a game very well.

 

[Zed Duke of Banville]

The "Book of the New Sun" series by Gene Wolfe seems really interesting but I'm not sure it would translate to a game very well.

The CRPG adaptation of The Book of the New Sun has a lot of fans amongst Codexers.