Free RPG Games

Welcome to 1KM1KT, the largest collection of free rpg games online! Please take a moment to subscribe to our mailing list and check out our RSS feed. We offer freely downloadable rpg games to our readers and accept submissions of all kinds. Please check out some of our reader's latest work below.

Hegemony is the world’s first Massive Multiplayer Tabletop RPG Experience! You get into teams to roleplay factions competing for control of the known human universe, and form the first intergalactic Hegemony. Compete for the founding of the Hegemony with other roleplaying groups of 4-7 players from around the world!

history

Hundreds of years ago, mankind took to the stars.

Settling into new worlds scattered across the known universe, the tribe of humanity split apart from each other, separated from each other by profound distances. Communication between groups was rare or unheard of. In the next few hundred years, each group formed its own laws and culture, which developed in isolation. Those factions never expected to rejoin the others, and all was well with that.

Then the Watun-Gaji came, and with them the technology and understanding of navigating Underspace.

The Watun-Gaji faction found every known enclave of humanity, and shared the gift of the technology to rejoin their peers. Then they disappeared, and would not be heard from again for a long time.

The Factions found each other, and realized how much they had changed; physically, psychologically and culturally. The first encounters were disastrous or unhelpful at best. It soon became clear that one faction would have to step up as the leaders of a new universal order.

This is the path to Hegemony.

Dialectic is a game of world creation played in ten sessions of one hour each. Each session represents a single chance for a debate about some topic and the topics vary each session, though they are all set in the same world. For game set in the modern day each session might be an episode of a Meet The Press style television show, where each character is a political commentator.

The Game

Dialectic is a game of world creation played in ten sessions of one hour each. Each session represents a single chance for a debate about some topic and the topics vary each session, though they are all set in the same world. For game set in the modern day each session might be an episode of a Meet The Press style television show, where each character is a political commentator.

Characters could be participants in a traveling series of debates, sponsored by gentlemen?s clubs all over England in a Steampunk game. They might even be priests of pagan religions arguing about how to deal with the rise of the Dark Lord in a high fantasy setting. What is important is that the setting is one where the conflicts will be settled with words rather than deeds. The hour of time is the length of the debate itself, while the ten sessions are the length of the debate circuit or television season that is the venue for the debates.

Play characters that are Programs that live in the world inside the Computer. Fight to uphold your faction while resisting the factions that are arrayed against your friends.

Introduction

In ancient times, we lived in the copper. Everything was like climbing uphill. Now, in this ancient society, we live in glass. The fiber optic of today is a miraculous achievement!

For all our modern conveniences, life in the Computer is still a challenge. Every program is being pulled in many opposite directions. Surviving is a challenge, much less succeeding in this environment. Long ago, a lone hero defeated the program that was oppressing the Computer. Now, two powers have risen to take its place, The Arches and the Orientals. Arches want to provide order to society, Orientals fight to maintain the rights of each individual program. The situation has been escalating, both sides want to change the way the Computer is run. What side are you on, how will you make your way?

In The Baubles of Hamlin the players take on the roles of apprentices and Scholars in a guild of crafters existing in an alternate world Victorian age. These apprentice and Scholar characters are given four tasks, called Trials, to complete in order for the Scholars to advance to the level of Master in the guild hierarchy. Each Trial must be completed within a given time frame. Characters are directed to work cooperatively, but may have secret orders to foil the actions of other characters.

Introduction

Glasscrafting and You

Welcome to the astounding and challenging world of Glasscrafting. This textbook, Edward Boudreauxized by the most noble Royal Education Guild, is a wholesome introduction to the history and techniques of a fine art, Glasscrafting, the study of which will reward the industrious apprentice for a lifetime.

As you read this textbook you will come across a variety of special formatting conventions, made possible by the most excellent stamping and publishing skills of Tellrooney and Co. Printers.

One such convention highlights definitions of new words. The word will stand out in bold print, with the definition following immediately behind.

You are a veteran knight of The Order. You have been called to the High Citadel of The Order to petition the Council of the Divine for sainthood. Can you prove yourself worthy?

The Order

The Order is, in a way, a governmental body, akin to a ministry, a department, or an agency. It’s purpose is to guide the moral bearing of the land. The Order is primarily a church, an organized religion, if you will; and it stands as the single officially recognized church in the land.

The Order exercises significant influence over the monarch’s decisions; think of Cardinal Richelieu and his influence over Louis XIII and Louis XIV of France.

As a church, The Order possesses many ranks of priests, clerics, acolytes, and sundry other bereaucrats distributed throughout the land. So too does The Order have a caste of knights devoted to the protection of The Order, and the land.

Countdown: A Play-By-Email Roleplaying Game.

Countdown is designed solely for play-by-email, built to maximize the formats advantages and minimize its problems. Every game is a race against the clock to stop something horrible from happening. The unique situation and characters for each game are collaboratively created, and play covers 8 hours worth of email-timestamp-indicated sessions.

At the top of every email, the player indicates what time (to the second) he begins writing. Most computers should have a function that indicates seconds as well as minutes and hours. At the end of the email, the player indicates the time that he finishes writing, then sends the email. Once the GM has received an email from each player, he composes a summary email for the session with all of the characters actions and their consequences. The GM keeps track of his time spend composing the summary email, and deducts that from the clock as well.When the clock has ticked past a benchmark, he includes that both in the body of the email and in its subject line. Note that the GM does not include his time in his email, though he does keep track of it and subtract it from the clock. He also subtracts time players spend on GMmails from the clock. In this manner, the players can keep track on their own and have a general idea of the state of the clock, but only the GM knows for certain. Note also that only time spend actually writing your email, from start to finish, counts for the session ? not time spend reading others emails, or thinking about your response.

Everyone is expected to abide by an honor code about being accurate with their email times. If the group wishes to play ?hardcore,? use the following system. Each player sends a blank email to the GM before they begin their email, and then the GM compares the timestamps on the two emails. Again, the GM is expected to keep track of his own time.

Any and all communication outside of threats (see below) counts as free narration, which is constrained only by situation and Laws. Players should feel free to incorporate material from the emails they receive into their own emails for a session. Each group will find its own pace and style of free narration.

Over the course of the Pursuit phase, the characters will be seeking their goal, as outlined by the situation they generated, and the GM will be putting obstacles in their way in the form of threats. The GM has a number of threat points that he uses to provide adversity for the characters. He begins the game with a number of threat points equal to 1 x the number of characters. The GM must include his current number of threat points in every session summary.

In Kristallnacht, the emotions and values of a single main character become the field of contention between four to six players, as they competitively narrate the character through a dreamlike ordeal over eight fifteen-minute episodes, ending with a climactic trial that determines what the character gains and loses from the experience. A unique system links it all together without a gamemaster. Story elements that players create during the first seven episodes become physical cards playable at the trial.

Kristallnacht

Within a few minutes of accidentally ingesting a minute dose of the synthetic neurotransmitter KR99, I began experiencing an extraordinary hallucination, or rather I should say a sequence of hallucinatory episodes. Apparently, as best as I can determine from examining the aftermath, I remained seated and motionless during the entire episode, which lasted eight hours by the clock but only two hours subjectively, as I did no damage to my person or to my surroundings despite undergoing subjective experiences that at times involved vigorous and violent activity. The episode began in the late evening, and as the clinic was closed for the night, I was alone and undisturbed the entire time.

As far as I can recall, the very first hallucinatory sensation was a tremendous sound of shattering glass, completely without warning and intolerably loud. A moment later, the visual hallucination began in kind, as my view of the office around me appeared to shatter like a pane of glass. In alarm I realized that a brick had been thrown through the large window fronting my office facing the street — though in fact my real office has no windows and connects only to a hospital corridor. “Outside” beyond the shattered glass was a nighttime street scene of shadowy running figures, confused shouts and screams, and as-yet distant fires. I soon recognized the scene from my grandmother’s stories of Berlin on the tenth of November 1938, Kristallnacht, the Night of Broken Glass. It was no doubt from these memories that my brain constructed the format — though not, of course, the detailed content — of the episodes that were to follow.

Almost immediately, a man broke into my office through the shattered window, and began shouting racist abuse at me. He was dressed in the garb of a brownshirt, complete with a swastika armband, and carrying a fire axe. His face and shrill voice were those of a recent patient of mine, at whose parole hearing I’d testified that his continued anti-Semitic ideation (including the full panoply of holocaust denial conspiracy theories) were indicative of a paranoid dissociative state rendering him not yet able to re-enter society. Shouting that he was paying me back for overcharging him at my stationery store (which my former medical office now seemed to have fully transformed into), he began smashing the store’s fixtures, tossing boxes of ink bottles to smash on the floor, and toppling shelves. I made no response, and eventually he turned his attention toward me and threatened violence. I resolved to defend myself and grabbed up a chair to keep him at bay. A burning torch was thrown through the window, setting fire to scattered papers on the floor. Meanwhile, I had managed to catch my assailant’s axe in the legs of the chair and was wrestling him for control of it. In the process his head was struck by the axe handle, hard enough to knock him cold. The fire was spreading, and the shouts of angry men were getting closer outside. I fled, leaving the man unconscious in the burning shop, but reaching the relative safety of an alley partway down the block, I changed my mind and resolved to rescue the man. Back at the shop, a gang of his brethren had arrived at the store and were already pulling him out to the sidewalk. They saw me and gave chase, and I fled again back toward the alley.

Fortunately the alley passed all the way through to an adjacent street, where I evaded my pursuers and hid, until another sudden crash of shattered glass disintegrated my hiding place and placed me suddenly in front of another broken store front. This turned out to be a delicatessen, whose proprietor was my sister, who in real life succumbed to anorexia while I was barely an adolescent. She ignored my attempts to rescue her, and insisted on attempting to serve meals demanded by a queue of shadowy customers even as mocking brownshirts tauntingly grabbed away her utensils and defiled the foodstuffs in the store. With superhuman strength she resisted my efforts to bodily drag her out of there. When she began slicing her own flesh to fill sandwiches, I went berserk and drove the customers away with my axe. This, at last, got her attention; she looked at me in horror and fled; I tried to chase after her, but my chase was cut short when I unaccountably ran straight into a pane of glass, whose loud shattering heralded another change of scene.

Thus began a nightmarish odyssey that took me through increasingly vivid and surreal experiences. I will not relate all, especially as some of the occurrences were of an even more intensely personal nature than what had gone before. Various scenes included my parents, my wife and children, my teachers, my medical colleagues, and my patients; others were cast entirely with strangers but incorporated snatches of my past and present life. Each interval ended with the sound of glass shattering, which I attribute to the hourly chiming of the clock in my office, the only significant sound in the room, distorted in my perception by the effects of the drug.

The final episode was of a different character than the others. I had been completely caught up in the hallucination since shortly after it began, but by the end of the second hour I was becoming more lucid, beginning to remember who and where I really was. Nonetheless the hallucination retained its grip, and I found myself at last caught and dragged away by the brown-shirted figures from whom I’d been fleeing all along. The final shattering of glass placed me in a sort of interrogation room. The interrogators were not the Nazis alone, though they were present; most were the same people, friend and foe, whom I’d encountered in the preceding scenes. They ringed me, just outside the pool of light in which I sat, and from time to time this or that figure would loom closer and make accusations or ask pointed questions. Some accusations I denied; others I felt compelled to confess to. It was deeply disturbing but not, oddly, entirely unwelcome, as I was by then lucid enough to perceive that through this trial I would regain reality. At that juncture, what was true and what was not seemed hardly relevant. Did I really break my parents’ hearts by marrying a gentile, and if so, is that my fault or theirs? Did I really tease my sister, when I was twelve and she was fifteen, about her figure? It all felt true, but not all of it was.

Though it would seem that any narrative ending with a trial (of sorts) must include a verdict, that is the one detail of the hallucination that I unfortunately cannot remember vividly, in fact, not at all. Two hours after that first din of broken glass, the midnight chiming of my office clock brought me fully back to myself.

Despite recent new evidence that KR99 may cause personality changes, neurochemical sequale (so-called ‘brain damage’), and even sudden death in rare cases, I don’t believe I’ve suffered any long-term effects from my own ordeal. It’s true that I no longer take pride in the prestige I’ve gained through my years of clinical practice, but is that not fully accounted for by the perspective of age and wisdom, and by the different nature of the new challenges I now face in my new career as an advocate for the rights of the mentally ill?

Eric Corson, M.D. Ph.D.

Merryweather is a game about spending a year in a world not your own. It is a game about consequences. It is a game about being roused from the waking life to find yourself in the dream. The characters in Merryweather are a group of average high school students who find themselves trapped in a surreal, phantasmagorical version of their hometown after exploring an abandoned mansion called “The Ancient.” While exploring the attic of The Ancient they are faced with a horrible event that drives them to flee in mortal fear. The exact nature of this event is unknown at the start of the game, but will be developed during play. Eventually the game will build to a dramatic crescendo where the characters either overcome their anxieties and insecurities to face the source of what they saw in the heart of The Ancient; or they are defeated by they’re own fragile emotional states, laid low by fear of an adversary too great to conquer

Opening fiction/setup:

It was a clear star blazed night when your friends helped you into the rowboat. A soft wind joined you on the journey across the lake and for a moment in it’s gentle embrace you forgot about the town getting smaller behind you, about high school, about your family, about money troubles, and the friendships too soft and thin to be pulled across black water to a simple island. As you all climbed the decaying wooden steps, as you each passed the threshold through the door fallen off its hinges, as you explored the ancient ancestor: friends whispering and laughing by flashlight; the scent of the girls’ soft hair mingles with stale parlor atmosphere; old floorboards creak under new shoes; and as a cool aluminum can kisses you full on the mouth and fills you with cheap amber beer understanding sinks in. You become keenly aware that these are the memories of youth that you will carry in your coat pockets for the rest of you days.

And then you all climbed the stairs to the attic; and then you saw the rusty heart of The Ancient. The room contained only terrible things. Things you were not meant to see; things that looked back at you with hateful, uncaring eyes. It came at you, but you fled. The Ancient was awake. The Ancient had started its work.

You all ran from the house, and rowed for the shore and the town and the warm houses you expected on the other side. You didn’t know what you all had done, but you were sure you weren’t supposed to have done it. Your friends hurried talk, full of fear and worry, the light din of oars cutting the lake water, and when you reached the shore you could see a thin line of smoke drifting from The Ancient’s chimney. A single question began nagging. Dread descends. What have you done?

Man Called Tribe is a lovely game set on the glass shores of chaotic green seas, where you play the group consciousness of the Joyful neolithic tribes that fight the Wurms in a barbaric postpostmodern world.

SETTING:

All the tribes live on the melted glass plains that surround the ancient Dead Places. Your plains are surrounded by the green Seas. If your tribe enters the twisted metal and concrete of the Dead Places, you die. This brings you sorrow. If your tribe enters the green Seas, you die. This also brings you sorrow.

Thus your tribe lives in the Middle Lands, the glass plains that are your home. The middle lands are a joyful place. Even your dreamers, those who sleep for the tribe, feel the joy.

Wurms form from the green Seas and visit your glass plains. Your hunters kill them and your tribe eats them. This gives you sustenance and brings you joy. Sometimes, they kill your hunters. This brings you sorrow.

When you meet other tribes, that is a time of celebration. You can procreate. You can war with them. You can trade. These are joyous things.

Sometimes your scouts find relics from the Ancient Times. This is handy and also brings you joy. And sometimes a scout will find an Outcasta person who is not of any tribe. Giving the Outcast a tribe brings joy to all.

When the silver notmoon covers the sun, the green seas recede and your dreamers stir. This is called the Awakening, when all tribes go to the notDead Place under the sea. Things change then. Joy is expressed. Outcasts appear. A small silver notStar rises. The whole tribe sleeps. The ancient term for this is Death. It is a joyous thing, for a new tribe will awaken.

In the world of procedural crime dramas, there are two separate yet equally important groups: the writers who dream up the episodes and the actors that bring them to life. This is their RPG. Time Constraint: 1 session of 2 hours Ingredients: Law, Team, Actor (+”Steele”)

About the Game:

“Here’s to wearing a badge, carrying a highpowered sidearm, and hopefully being right more often than we’re wrong.”
~Lennie Briscoe, Law & Order, ?For God & Country?

In Crime & Punishment players take on the roles of writers and actors in a procedural drama. In the first half of the game, players create story elements that will entice each other?s investment. In so doing, they earn resources for the second half of the game when they will need them to purchase time and glory in the spotlight of the drama they have created.