Your Fantasy Names are Bad - Grounded Worlds Need Grounded Names

When I need a name, I pull one from the Bible. I do this whether I'm writing fiction, GMing, or creating a player character. Here's why.

Bible names are ancient. These are 2,000+ year old names. I know Christians don't like it when you call their religion a mythology, but let's agree to disagree. If you're of the belief that the Bible is describing myth, then these names are actual Earth mythology. This is the deep Earth lore. How cool is that? These names evoke myth without spectacle.

They're grounded. They are real names, not fake names. Grounded worlds should have grounded names. You might call them plain Jane, boring, or vanilla. You might have some other derogatory way to describe them. I rather approach these names like the Doctor from Doctor Who. He meets someone with a really plain or old-fashioned sounding name, and it makes him smile real wide, then he compliments it three times. 

They're recognizable. Bible names are universal. If your culture doesn't have any Bible names, you might have variants or you might have names that are inspired by or derived from Bible names; or vice versa. Maybe the Bible names are inspired by or derived from the names in your culture. For example, here's a table of 5 common bible names in 10 different languages.

English	Spanish	Portuguese	French	German	Italian	Russian	Arabic	Hebrew	Greek
Mary	María	Maria	Marie	Maria	Maria	Мария (Mariya)	مريم (Maryam)	מרים (Miryam)	Μαρία (Maria)
Joseph	José	José	Joseph	Josef	Giuseppe	Иосиф (Iosif)	يوسف (Yusuf)	יוסף (Yosef)	Ιωσήφ (Iosíf)
David	David	David	David	David	Davide	Давид (David)	داود (Dāwūd)	דוד (David)	Δαβίδ (Davíd)
Sarah	Sara	Sara	Sarah	Sarah	Sara	Сара (Sara)	سارة (Sārah)	שרה (Sarah)	Σάρα (Sára)
John	Juan	João	Jean	Johann / Johannes	Giovanni	Иоанн (Ioann)	يوحنا (Yūḥannā)	יוחנן (Yochanan)	Ιωάννης (Ioánnis)

They're cultural touchstones. This means a widely recognized symbol or reference point within a culture that carries or evokes shared meaning, value, or stories. Bible names have sacred meanings to a lot of people. People who have these names are named after characters from stories that inspired friends and family, or because the character embody values or virtues that the parent believes are important. When you name your kid a Biblical name, you're not just saying "I think this is a pretty name", you're saying, "I want my kid to have / spread this meaning / value / virtue".

They carry emotional weight. Cultural touchstones aside, sometimes you name your kids after Uncle John or Aunt Ruth because they were a beloved member of your family. Most people with Bible names actually have two names; a first name and a middle name. This tradition comes from people being torn between naming their children after a Bible character or naming their children after family or important friends. Having a first name and a middle name solves the problem. If you meet someone who has a Bible name and some other name, ask them about that other name. It might be interesting.

They feel low fantasy and human scale. They feel like real people, not fantasy caricatures. Bible names aren't just names, they're part of the world's tone. Maximus Decimus Meridius is a cool name, and to some people so is Goku, Vegeta, Vash, Monkey D. Luffy, Ichigo, and Naruto; but those names don't suit low fantasy and human scale. These names describe characters who shoot lasers out of their hands and can crush planets while they shape nations or decide the fate of a planet. Meanwhile, David is a guy you might meet at a hardware store.

They're Good for World Cohesion. When you create a period setting, you should use names the sound like they go together and sound like they describe a place in time, a culture, a language, or a myth. It's about choosing a naming convention that reinforces the world’s emotional logic. It’s the same instinct behind:

• Tolkien using Anglo‑Saxon and Norse names
• Earthsea using simple, elemental names
• The Witcher using Slavic names
• Dark Souls using medieval European names

Modern and Sci-Fi settings can get away with breaking these rules to an extent. I mean, Luke Skywalker anyone? Luke!

Don't-Do's of Names

At the very least, here's a simple list of rules for what not to do with names:

1. Avoid names that are hard to spell and hard to pronounce. These make names that are hard to remember and they slow down play.
2. Don't pick names that lack cohesion with the setting (or joke names) because they make world feel fake. You might think Rex is a cool name, but who named you that in a low-fantasy period setting?
3. Don't pick names that carry no emotional weight. Bob can be a strong name if there's a strong reason behind it. People think Atticus is a strong male name because of the character Atticus Finch. You need a cool namesake to make your name cool.

Bright‑Dark 3d6 - Session 0 Checklist

Bright-Dark 3d6 Role-Playing Game doesn’t need a sprawling D&D-style Session 0 because the game already solves the ambiguity problem. The tone, genre, danger level, and realism are baked into the system. So instead of 30 questions, Bright‑Dark needs about 6-9 all laser-focused on the emotional, thematic, and narrative cohesion that makes Bright‑Dark work.

The Essential Bright-Dark 3d6 Session‑0 Questions

These aren’t generic TTRPG questions. They’re tailored to the Bright-Dark tone: grounded, melancholy, hopeful, dangerous, human.

1. What does your character care about deeply enough that the GM can build stakes from it? In other words, what matters to you so deeply that losing it would hurt?
   *This is the most important question to running Bright-Dark!
2. What kind of Bright-Dark story are we telling?
3. How grounded and dangerous should the world feel?
4. What themes do you want your character to explore?
5. What level of supernatural presence do we want?
6. How connected are the characters emotionally?
7. What boundaries or sensitivities should we respect?
8. How much spotlight do you want?
9. What is your character’s quiet hope?

1. What does your character care about deeply enough that the GM can build stakes from it?

In Bright-Dark, stakes are personal.

The world may be dangerous, but danger only becomes meaningful when it touches something the characters care about. 

• Before play begins, each player should tell the GM what matters most to their character: a hope, a fear, a relationship, a promise, or a fragile part of themselves they cannot bear to lose.

This is not backstory for its own sake.

It is the emotional anchor the GM uses to shape conflict, tension, and consequence. Adventures begin with the world’s troubles, but they become Bright-Dark stories only when those troubles threaten the things the characters hold close.

Knowing the Characters to Create Stakes

When the GM knows the characters, the stakes write themselves. When the GM does not, the story has no weight.

2. What kind of Bright-Dark story are we telling?
Bright-Dark is a tone, not a genre, but there are flavors:

• wandering melancholy adventure
• intimate character drama
• quiet survival
• mythic but grounded fantasy
• soft supernatural intrusion
• political or social tension

This question aligns everyone’s expectations for emotional weight and pacing.


3. How grounded is the world’s danger?
Bright-Dark thrives on believable stakes.

• Are you comfortable with realistic injury?
• Are you comfortable with characters being afraid, shaken, or vulnerable?
• Should danger feel constant, occasional, or rare but serious?

This sets the lethality dial without needing D&D’s “gritty realism” debates.


4. What themes do you want your character to explore?
Bright-Dark characters carry wounds and small hopes. Examples:

• Grief
• Redemption
• Trust
• Found family
• Quiet courage
• Moral ambiguity
• Healing
• Sacrifice

This question ensures every character has emotional weight that fits the tone.


5. What level of supernatural presence do you want?
Bright-Dark uses magic sparingly and meaningfully. Options:

• Low magic (rare, subtle, mysterious)
• Medium magic (present but not flashy)
• Mythic intrusions (angels, spirits, cosmic forces)
• No magic (pure grounded drama)

This prevents mismatched expectations like “I want flashy spells” vs “I want realism.”


6. How connected are the characters?
Bright-Dark works best when characters care about each other.

• Do you already know each other?
• Do you share a wound?
• Do you share a hope?
• What binds you emotionally?

This avoids the “we meet in a tavern” problem entirely.


7. What boundaries or sensitivities should we respect?
Bright-Dark deals with melancholy and vulnerability, so you need clarity on:

• Violence level
• Emotional triggers
• Interpersonal conflict
• Romance boundaries
• Moral themes
• Lines and veils

This keeps the tone safe without breaking immersion.


8. How much spotlight do you want?
Bright-Dark is character‑driven, so ask:

• Do you want lots of personal scenes?
• Do you prefer ensemble scenes?
• Do you want slow‑burn arcs or fast arcs?

This prevents overshadowing or under‑involvement.


9. What is your character’s quiet hope?
This is the most Bright-Dark question of all.

• What small thing keeps your character going?  
• What fragile hope do they cling to?  
• What do they want to protect?  

This gives you emotional anchors for the entire campaign.

Why Bright-Dark Only Needs These 9
Because the system already defines:

• Tone  
• Realism  
• Danger  
• Genre  
• Pacing  
• Supernatural logic  
• Moral texture  

D&D needs 30 questions because it can be anything. 
Bright-Dark needs 9 because it is something.

• This game is focused.  
• The tone is intentional.  
• The implied world is coherent.  
• The mechanics reinforce your themes.
• So, Session 0 is elegant, not bloated.

Download: Full Rulebook PDF version 0.9

Main: Table of Contents - (Full game single post)

Game Mechanics Are About Feel, Not Function

I think what makes a game mechanic work is not that it's functional or logical, rather, it's how it feels to the participants when playing with it. Let's look at HP for example. What is HP but your margin of error? More HP, more margin of error. Less HP... You get it. 

Once you have the realization that HP is your margin of error, you might ask yourself how much HP is too little, too much, or just right? One odd question you might ask yourself is what else can be treated as a margin of error? This is where game mechanics get creative. A game called Crown and Skull doesn't have HP. Instead, your skills temporarily go down from hits. This represents how your characters wounds and injuries affect them. When players take a hit, players get to decide which skill gets diminished, and so players have some say in the narrative, and the game doesn't have to burden the GM with everything.

So, for instance, let's say sword is a skill and your sword skill is 5. You get hit, you lower it to 4. When all your skills are 0, this represents an accumulation of wounds that finally end you. When you get an opportunity to improve a skill, you're also improving your toughness in a manner like HP. Sounds logical, right?

With game mechanics and systems, what I'm concerned with is not how they work, but how they feel. Does the game feel fun, does the game feels tense, or does it feel like too much bookkeeping. Does the mechanic make me overthink the concept to the extent that its distracting?

Importantly, would I rather be using another or a simpler mechanic?

So, let's say I had a game where gold replaces HP. The first thing I ask is what sense does that make? What if characters had magic hour glasses. The hour glasses turn gold and golden treasure into gold dust. The gold dust drains away at a rate of one gold piece per day. If you run out of gold dust, you die. The magic of the hourglass makes you indestructible, but in exchange it takes gold away when you should be hurt. In effect, your life is dependent on gold. The scarcity of gold is what makes the game tense. Too much gold, no tension. No tension means you have a boring game. Too little gold, players become too risk averse, and the game is too stressful.

From the GM side, the tracking and allocating of gold becomes a major function. It sounds like finding the goldilocks zone is really, really challenging and once players discover the formula, does that spoil the illusion of the game? How do you feel like you improve? By being able to carry more gold than before?

I think the reason why HP or health is so ubiquitous is it’s ease of use which comes from its intuitiveness, in spite of its other problems like being an over-abstraction of damage and healing. And also, taking a hit and subtracting HP feels better than taking a hit and subtracting skills or items or money or armor. Even though gold as HP basically eliminates the need to spend gold on healing items and other supplies, and skills as HP eliminates a need for a wounds and injuries system, at the end of the day, HP feels better than other mechanics, probably because it's familiar, simple, and easy to visualize.

There are different ways to do HP. In D&D for instance, HP models luck, skill, and fatigue as a buffer until 0 HP which implies a single, serious wound has KO'ed you and threatens your life. You can sleep off a major fall or massive beating. Because it's an easily relishable resource, it has less value. Because you can have 10 HP at level 1 and 100 HP at level 10, it doesn't objectively describe or model actual harm in the world. D&D 5e makes HP feel like a cartoon character or cinematic action hero getting beat up. It makes combat feel like a sport or a game to live out a power fantasy. It's intended to be fun. The opposite is GURPS which explicitly describes HP as a measure of your body's capacity for injury. There is a low HP cap. If you take a massive hit, you roll for shock and knock down. If your HP drops to 0, you roll against incapacitation and death. GURPS makes HP loss feel like sustaining actual harm, and it makes combat feel deadly and frightening, and consequences can last.

GURPS HP inspired Bright-Dark 3d6 HP, not D&D HP. Bright-Dark 3d6 uses low HP to keep tension high and consequences meaningful.

If you're going to create or critique a game, I want you to think in terms of what do the mechanics model, how do game mechanics feel, and how do all the mechanics feel when used together. That's important because the way a game feels is ultimately why people play it. If it feels good, they play it and they enjoy playing it. If it feels bad and they're still playing it, are they enjoying it? What do they enjoy about it? How much enjoyment are they getting, and is it worth the parts they don't enjoy? The way a game feels is part of the value of the game to the participants.

But also remember that everyone has their own kind of fun; see also: Types of Fun (MDA Framework)