The debate over whether to create your own RPG system or use an existing one is as old as the hobby itself. Among friends, in online forums, and at conventions, the question always comes back: is it worth investing time and energy in developing your own rules, or is it better to rely on the work of experienced designers?

Recently, a thread on the subreddit r/rpg_brasilreignited this discussion in a particularly interesting way. A user, identified as Western-Marsupial892, shared her unusual experience: she has never played any commercial RPG system. All her experience in the hobby has been through systems created by friends, in a large and close-knit group of ten people. The reaction of the other players upon learning this was one of surprise, and she came to ask the community for their opinion.

What followed was an avalanche of responses – many harsh, some understanding, few enthusiastic. This article has two objectives. First, to analyze this post in detail and what people said, extracting the main lessons and prejudices of the Brazilian RPG community. Second, to present my own opinion as an RPG system developer with almost three decades of experience, from my first encounters with First Quest and Tagmar to the current development of my own Celtic medieval fantasy system, which took ten years to mature.

What the community really thinks

On April 4, 2026, Western-Marsupial892(let’s call her OP, for original poster ) wrote:

“The other day I was talking to some people who play RPGs, but with whom I’ve never played. They thought I was strange for never having played any RPG that already exists, not even the classics. It turns out I play with a group of friends where everyone prefers to create their own systems and stories. What do you think?”

She added in comments that she wasn’t the creator of the system – the credit goes to a more experienced friend who had played other systems before developing his own. The group has ten people, which makes scheduling a nightmare, but everyone is engaged. The system in question took about a year to become playable and has undergone continuous improvements.

The profile of the responses: a predominantly skeptical chorus.

Of the 58 comments analyzed, the vast majority expressed distrust or open rejection of proprietary systems. Let’s categorize the main voices.

1. The argument of professional competence

“The thing is, I’m not a game designer, so I’m 100% sure that anything I created myself would be inferior to a finished game.” – Mago_Olorin (Top 1% Commenter)

“I’m a game designer and I can confirm: it would be extremely unusual for an amateur to create a genuinely good system, even if it has very limited goals.” – Driekan

“I’m a game designer, and the amount of testing I’d have to do for a system from scratch is considerable, so even I prefer to work with something that at least has an initial template.” – Wise-Key-3442

These comments establish a principle of authority: professionals in the field say it’s very difficult to get it right. The subliminal message is clear: leave it to those who have studied and have experience.

2. The “waste of time” or “laziness” argument

“Honestly, this whole custom system thing is for lazy people who don’t want to read. 100% of the times I’ve played on custom systems in the last 20 years, they were all terrible systems and the experience was awful.” – Beneficial_Shirt6825

“If you’re not a professional in this field, or don’t intend to be, creating your own system is the biggest mistake in the world. It’s going to be a complete disaster, without a doubt.” – Dramatic-Border3549

Here the tone is more aggressive. It’s not just a matter of preference – it’s a moral judgment about the creator’s (lazy) character and the inevitably low quality of the result.

3. The “red flag” argument

“At best, the system is just bad, but in my experience, whoever usually brings up these issues not only lacks game design skills but also tends to be unpleasant, rude, and arrogant.” – Haynex

“I would also find it very strange and see it as a red flag.” – Rocamora_27

The OP asked him directly Haynex: “Many people say things like that, but why exactly?” He responded with the quote above, revealing that the bias is not only against the system, but against the supposed personality of those who create it.

4. The metaphor of home cinema

“It’s like saying, ‘I’ve never seen a movie in a theater, only videos my cousins ​​record.’ Maybe your cousins ​​are undiscovered artists… but the excellent chance is you’re watching a local YouTube video of them imitating a seal in a bathtub and calling it a movie.” – Loch_Ness1

This analogy was one of the most effective in conveying skepticism. It doesn’t deny the possibility of something good coming about, but it presents the probabilities in a brutally realistic way.

5. Moderate and pragmatic voices

Not everyone was so radical. Some comments offered important nuances:

“If it works for you, great. Playing other existing systems can even help you refine what you play.” – fairerman

“Fun comes before everything else, including the system. If it’s working for you, just enjoy it.” – DeadRoma

“I enjoy creating my own system as a creative exercise. But for playing, I prefer a system that’s already been released or has been modified.” – ruansky42

These voices acknowledge that the ultimate value is the group’s enjoyment, but still recommend consulting other systems for reference.

6. Defending the exception – when proprietary systems can make sense.

Interestingly, OP herself, throughout the conversation, revealed details that soften the strangeness:

  • The master creator had played other systems before starting to develop his own.
  • It took him a year to create the first playable version.
  • The system has undergone improvements throughout the campaigns.
  • Other members of the group began using his system as a base, only adjusting details.

This is no longer the “amateur who has never read anything” that many assumed. It is a group that, starting from real references, has iteratively built something of its own.

What does OP teach us about atypical experience?

She revealed something important: being a woman, she feels uncomfortable playing with strangers. The closed group of friends, with its own system, has become a safe haven . This is a legitimate social factor that goes beyond the technical discussion about the quality of rules.

Furthermore, she admitted to having an interest in Baldur’s Gate 3 and in experimenting with one-shots using official systems. There’s no dogmatism – just context.

Summary of the post analysis

The community r/rpg_brasilis largely hostile to amateur-built systems. The reasons range from trust in professional designers to negative personal experiences. However, there is room for exceptions when the creator demonstrates knowledge of the subject matter and when the group is having fun. The OP, although the target of criticism, also received constructive advice and ended the discussion open to new experiences.

One clear lesson emerges: if you’re going to create your own system, be prepared for skepticism. And, more importantly, be prepared to make something that actually works – which requires much more than good intentions.

A developer’s perspective

Now, I’ll leave aside the external analysis and share my own journey as a creator of RPG systems. Unlike the OP, I started the traditional route – and only later became “dissatisfied.”

My journey: from First Quest to Tagmar

I started playing RPGs with First Quest , that red box that was an introductory version of AD&D. In the early 90s, access to RPG materials was limited. I remember flipping through the basic rulebook, marveling at the graphics and tables. That’s where my passion for systems was born.

Next, I discovered Tagmar , the first Brazilian RPG. That was a shock: rules written in Portuguese, its own setting, a legitimate attempt to create something national without depending on TSR or SJG (GURPS). I played a lot of Tagmar, and I learned that a system could be simpler than AD&D and still be fun.

Then came AD&D 2nd Edition (with its countless optional rulebooks) and, finally, GURPS (Generic Universal Roleplaying System). GURPS was the system I ran the most games with. Its flexibility, its simulated realism, the logic of the 3d6 – all of that captivated me. I ran GURPS for years, in settings ranging from medieval fantasy to science fiction and horror.

The dissatisfaction that motivates creation.

Despite all my fondness for GURPS, something always bothered me. The system is robust, but it’s cumbersome. Character creation requires point calculations, lists of advantages and disadvantages that can reach dozens of pages. Combat can be slow. And, for certain play styles – like a more agile, non-heroic fantasy with hints of Celtic magic – GURPS demanded so many optional rules that I barely recognized the original system.

That’s how I started modifying it. First, the house rules: I reduced the number of skills, simplified damage calculation, created a shorter spell list. Over time, the modifications grew. Until one day I realized: what I was playing was no longer GURPS. It was a Frankenstein that used the GURPS base, but had new combat mechanics, a new magic system, new attributes…

This feeling of dissatisfaction is, in my view, the most legitimate driving force behind the creation of systems. You love the hobby, you know the options available, but none of them perfectly fit what you want. You want a horse, but the existing systems offer either a car or a bicycle. So you decide to build your own horse.

Dissatisfied and enthusiastic

In my experience, there are two main profiles of people who venture into creating their own systems.

The Dissatisfied (my case) – Has played several systems, knows their strengths and weaknesses, and has a clear vision of what they want. They don’t create for fun or due to a lack of reference, but because they genuinely haven’t found a ready-made solution. This creator tends to be more patient, more methodical, and is willing to invest years in the project.

The Enthusiast – Generally has little experience with other systems, sometimes only one. Their motivation is the joy of creation, the pleasure of seeing something of their own taking shape. This could be an excited teenager or an adult who wants to “do things differently.” This profile risks falling into the trap pointed out by the community: creating something fragile, unbalanced, and unable to withstand a long campaign.

It’s important to say: both motivations are valid . The enthusiast can, over time, become dissatisfied. The dissatisfied person may never publish their system, but have immense fun in the process. The problem isn’t the motivation – it’s the lack of awareness about the work involved.

The harsh reality: creating a system is a lot, a lot of work.

“The first thing my dear friend, who is racking his brain trying to come up with a good set of rules, needs to know is that it’s hard work, very hard work. You create a version, only to discover two days later that it’s full of flaws, and then you create a second version, a third, a fourth… it’s endless. Then you decide it’s a structural problem, and you start all over again from scratch.”

This paragraph summarizes years of my life. Let’s look at the numbers:

  • Total development time for my Celtic medieval fantasy system: 10 years.
  • Complete versions discarded: 4.
  • Partial versions (playtests, drafts): more than 20.
  • Changes to the system core (attributes, test resolution): 3 times.

Why so long? Because every time you rebuild the system from scratch, ideas used in previous versions are reincorporated, others are discarded. You learn that an RPG system isn’t just a collection of rules – it’s an ecosystem . Each mechanic interacts with the others. Adjusting combat affects the character point economy. Changing magic affects the balance between classes (if there are classes). Simplifying attributes can break the logic of skills.

I’m not a formally trained game designer. I’m an enthusiast who learned through practice – and through mistakes. Someone with a degree in game design would take less time and avoid many of the errors I made. But the truth is, for a dedicated amateur, ten years is not uncommon . I know creators of independent Brazilian systems who took 5 to 8 years to have something publishable. I know others who gave up along the way.

The anchor paradox: when losing your bearings is dangerous.

One of the biggest challenges in creating your own system is when you lose your anchor in a tested system.

In the beginning, when you’re just modifying a GURPS or D&D game, you have a solid foundation. You know the combat works, the skills are balanced, and character progression is sustainable. Your modifications are like painting the walls of a house that’s already built.

But there comes a time when you decide to change the foundation. You remove the AC (Armor Class) because you want an active defense system. You replace the attributes from 3 to 18 with a different scale. You create a mana point-based magic system instead of spells per day.

Then you realize: everything breaks down . The difficulty calculation no longer makes sense. The average damage per round becomes absurd. The warrior and the mage are no longer balanced. And you don’t have an original system to consult – you yourself are the reference.

This is the point where many give up. It’s the point where I almost gave up a few times. The solution, I discovered over time, is to return to the core .

The simple core that holds everything together.

GURPS, however complex it may seem, has an elegantly simple core:

  • 4 attributes (ST, DX, IQ, HT)
  • Every test is, in essence, an attribute test (or an attribute-based skill test).
  • Expert analysis increases the chances of accuracy.
  • Roll: 3d6, result less than or equal to the effective skill = success
  • A points table for balancing character creation.

Everything in GURPS – advantages, disadvantages, spells, combat, equipment – ​​derives from this core . You won’t find an “Armor Class” in GURPS because that would break the logic. Instead, defense is a skill check (Dodge, Block, or Parry). The system is coherent because everything refers back to the same principle.

This is the yolk of the egg . If you’re creating a system, your first task is to define its core. It should be simple enough to be memorized and general enough to accommodate all the other mechanics without contradictions.

Practical advice for those who want to create a system.

If you’ve read this far and are still determined to create your own system, great. The world needs more original voices. But allow me to offer some advice based on my own experience and learning.

1. Play many other systems before you begin.

Don’t just read – play . Only at the table do you understand how a rule behaves in practice. Participate in one-shots, short campaigns, conventions. Play narrative systems (FATE, PbtA), simulationist systems (GURPS, Rolemaster), action-oriented systems (D&D 5e, Pathfinder), and small and indie systems (Mörk Borg, Cairn, Knave).

For each system, ask yourself: What does this system do well? What does it do badly? Why does this specific mechanism exist?

Many people, in this process, end up finding their favorite system and never again feel the need to create their own. That’s great! You saved yourself years of work.

2. Start by modifying an existing system.

If you’re as dissatisfied as I am, start with the system that came closest to what you wanted. Play RAW (Rules As Written) for at least a few sessions. Then, introduce house rules. One at a time. Test. Adjust.

Continue like this until your house rules no longer fit the original system – until it’s easier to rewrite than to patch things up. At that point, you’ll have the seed of your own system.

3. Don’t be afraid to start over.

You’ll create a version. You’ll find flaws. You’ll create another version. You’ll find more flaws. At some point, you’ll realize the problem is structural – that the foundation doesn’t support what you want. Then you start over from scratch .

This is normal. It’s painful, but it’s necessary. Each fresh start eliminates unnecessary layers of complexity and brings you closer to your ideal core.

4. Define the core first, then expand.

Before creating the weapon table, before listing a hundred spells, before designing the critical hit system – define:

  • How do you solve a generic test? (data, targets, bonuses)
  • What are the core attributes?
  • How does character progression work?
  • What is the system’s philosophy? (simulation? narrative? adventure?)

If the core isn’t solid, nothing you build on top of it will be solid.

5. Test, test, test

Play with friends willing to critique. Play alone, simulating combat. Play with people unfamiliar with the system to see if they can learn without your help. Note everything that breaks. Fix it. Test again.

A good RPG system isn’t written – it’s shaped by use.

6. Have realistic expectations about the time.

If you don’t have experience in game design, you’ll hardly create a playable system in less than 2 years. For a truly good, solid system with its own identity – think 5 to 10 years.

I’m not saying this to discourage you. I’m saying do it for pleasure . If the journey of creating, testing, refining, breaking, and rebuilding isn’t intrinsically rewarding for you, it will be unbearable.

7. Separate objectives: playing vs. creating

Ask yourself honestly: do I want to play a different kind of campaign, or do I want to be a systems creator?

If the answer is the first one, take a ready-made system and adapt it . This will save you at least 9 years of work. There are hundreds of systems available – some free, in Portuguese, covering every imaginable genre. It’s unlikely your niche isn’t covered by some indie system.

If the answer is the second one – if you find pleasure in the act of creating, calculating probabilities, and finding elegant solutions – then go ahead. But be aware that you are embarking on a long-term project that may never be “finished,” and that the main reward is the process.

Final reflection: why did I continue?

After ten years, my Celtic medieval fantasy system is nearing what I consider its “final” state. It’s about 120 pages long, including basic rules, character creation, combat, magic, equipment, and an initial bestiary. I’m testing it in two campaigns and several one-shots.

Is it better than GURPS for what I want? Yes, for me. Is it objectively superior to any commercial system? That will depend on who’s playing and what they’re looking for. It just fits better with the style of game I like to run: dark fantasy with hints of realism, subtle magic, and Celtic inspiration.

I continued because, for me, creating systems is an intellectual hobby . I enjoy thinking about mechanics, doing probability calculations, and imagining how a rule affects the narrative. As a systems analyst, I developed some applications for combat simulation and testing, to ensure smooth gameplay.

If you’re going to create a system, do it for the sake of it. Not for status, not to prove something to Reddit skeptics, not to “reinvent the wheel.” Do it because you love the process. And if at any point the process becomes a burden, remember: you can always abandon it and go back to playing with a ready-made system. There’s no shame in that.

Between tradition and creation

The post r/rpg_brasilreveals a community that values ​​tradition, professional testing, and efficiency. For most, creating their own system is a waste of time or a sign of arrogance. This view is well-founded – many amateur systems are, in fact, bad. But it carries a curious historical contradiction: every system that is now considered solid and established was once a proprietary system, often amateur, made by a small group of enthusiasts.

Let’s take the most obvious example: Dungeons & Dragons . In the mid-1970s, Gary Gygax and Dave Arneson weren’t professional designers with decades of experience. They were wargame players who began modifying existing rules (like Chainmail ) to tell different stories – individual adventures of heroes in dungeons, instead of battles between armies. The first edition of D&D was, by today’s standards, a chaotic sandbox : inconsistent rules, obscure tables, huge loopholes that Dungeon Masters had to fill with their own inventions. It was, essentially, a “self-contained system” that worked.

The same applies to other giants:

  • GURPS began as Steve Jackson’s personal vision for a universal system, following years of dissatisfaction with the options available.
  • Vampire: The Masquerade was a bold gamble by designers who wanted to move away from medieval fantasy and the dominance of dice – something many would call an “inadequate proprietary system” before it became a cultural phenomenon.
  • Pathfinder originated as a giant “house rule” for D&D 3.5, created by fans dissatisfied with the transition to the 4th edition.
  • The entire OSR (Old School Revival) movement is based on taking old systems, considered “broken” from a modern perspective, and transforming them into something new.

The irony is clear: what is tradition today was once an experiment. The community looks with suspicion at the amateur creator of their own system, forgetting that the pillars of the hobby arose exactly like that – on someone’s workbench, with borrowed data, scribbled notes, and many failed playtests.

But there is a crucial difference: perseverance.

What separates a system that becomes a benchmark from one that dies in its first campaign isn’t just talent – ​​it’s perseverance . Gygax and Arneson didn’t give up when the rules broke. They tested, rewrote, argued with editors, published supplements, listened to feedback (and ignored a lot too). Early D&D was full of flaws, but it was played, adjusted, replayed – and survived.

Today’s amateur creator often abandons a project at the first sign of difficulty. Or, worse, never tests their rules with other critical eyes. That’s where the chance for something great to be born dies.

What really matters at the end of the night?

The story of OP – the player who only knew her own systems – reminds us of something essential. She has fun. Her group, with its ten players, with its difficulty in scheduling sessions, with its homemade system perfected over years – they have fun. And that, ultimately, is the only criterion that really matters.

The community may turn up its nose. Purists may call it a “red flag.” Professionals may point out balancing flaws. But no Reddit comment has the power to invalidate the genuine joy of a table that works.

So, the next time someone says “a proprietary system is always crap,” remember: D&D was once a proprietary system. GURPS was once a proprietary system. Everything solid was once quicksand. What differentiates failure from legacy isn’t the origin – it’s the stubbornness to keep trying.

Good data, and good design. May your own system, should you decide to create one, be the beginning of something that others will one day call a tradition.