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Roaring 20s or 40s campaign dnd how?
- Thread starter arcanaman
- Start date
Wraith Form
Explorer
The title of this thread alone inspired me. A friend and I are going to co-DM 4th edition games in this setting (we chose 1930). The way I described it, it's the noir love-child of Eberron and Shadowrun (specifically the pulp & noir aspects of both settings without the "wahoo" factor of either).
Here's the intro:
1930, the Arcanocracy of America.
The Great Depression has entered its second year, its heavy toll--starvation, suicide--felt worldwide.
Prohibition still shackles the jittery hands of the weak and the desperate, while scofflaws profit.
The Great War has ended and the world takes a weary second wind as it gathers its resources. A decade later the war will resume with different players and greater casualties.
In a lunatic New York from a madman’s nightmare, orcs and trolls rub shoulders with elves and men in the shabby streets and sinister alleys of the Big Apple. Overhead, dragons lurk among the zeppelins which scrape the bottoms of sooty clouds.
Rain falls in an oppressive grey mist filling the gutters with refuse, living and dead...and in between.
Tarnished lights glint with false hope in the grimy streets, and muffled, indistinct cries linger behind closed doors.
The odor of despair reeks from every byway. Well-fed flies buzz around the carcass of aspiration.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Observe, as we view another story from the Naked City.
Here's the intro:
1930, the Arcanocracy of America.
The Great Depression has entered its second year, its heavy toll--starvation, suicide--felt worldwide.
Prohibition still shackles the jittery hands of the weak and the desperate, while scofflaws profit.
The Great War has ended and the world takes a weary second wind as it gathers its resources. A decade later the war will resume with different players and greater casualties.
In a lunatic New York from a madman’s nightmare, orcs and trolls rub shoulders with elves and men in the shabby streets and sinister alleys of the Big Apple. Overhead, dragons lurk among the zeppelins which scrape the bottoms of sooty clouds.
Rain falls in an oppressive grey mist filling the gutters with refuse, living and dead...and in between.
Tarnished lights glint with false hope in the grimy streets, and muffled, indistinct cries linger behind closed doors.
The odor of despair reeks from every byway. Well-fed flies buzz around the carcass of aspiration.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Observe, as we view another story from the Naked City.
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