RP

Game Management Tools

ꜜ Scroll down ꜜ

RPGM Forge

Names

VorashMirebel the UnboundWraithpine QuarterVrax OrbbaneGristle HemlockCorvin SableJellithDaska HalloweyesRetch GreelWitchmark TowerSinister GrottoKraxilSillithPipper QuickZugg VarrickJakob KnellsShardholdSpectra CoilThe Crooked CometNithraEzra MawThe Rusted WishboneBlyth GorespindleThe Withered FlaskRed HankAshbriar RefugeBrynna VoskVexer’s GauntletThule ScarcladZarvexTumbrixGloomspireVaskel DrunePatch PennyboneBlightwind SocietyLyrith VexianThe Sable LedgerTorren StarkillerMorvane the BlackVel TattercoatNell BrambleSkulnBrumeelCalyx MandrakeMaddox SlagMurn CobwebQuaskDr. Vex HyperionIron Howl KeepGrivokSarnak VoidtideWilla TarmiteEchoing Pike
Vrisshka GhoulbornQuill OxbloodTorn IlvraShrieker NullThe Mourning BellJinx CrumblehookShivershade MarketPhantom Lantern InnNightvault ArmorThrallakMaudra GallowsVermilion BastionMindleSable DriftsGobbithThe Drunken HarbingerFrostweld AegisGrotch SkadSalka DuskwalkerDraugrenKhyraxan BladeBast GunwhaleGunner Patch-EyeRakshaYarael PithSkriln GrubfistSinjin the Riven

Instantly generate creative, setting-appropriate names for tokens as soon as they’re added to the canvas—or use the TokenHUD’s Crystal Menu to refresh names on demand. Stay in the flow with quick, immersive naming for every encounter.

Use the *names chat command to receive themed name suggestions instantly. Pick your favorite, and the token is renamed automatically—quick, easy, and always fitting your world.

Descriptions

Shyreene Driftwood stands at the helm of the Stolen Mercy, her sea-bleached hair tangled in a dozen charms and shark teeth. Her eyes are glass-green and glimmer with cunning, yet those who meet her gaze sense the hush of the deep—cold, fathomless, and ancient. It’s said she can smell mutiny brewing before the first whisper, and that her compass needle always points toward lost fortunes—or coming storms. Shyreene Driftwood stands at the helm of the Stolen Mercy, her sea-bleached hair tangled in a dozen charms and shark teeth. Her eyes are glass-green and glimmer with cunning, yet those who meet her gaze sense the hush of the deep—cold, fathomless, and ancient. It’s said she can smell mutiny brewing before the first whisper, and that her compass needle always points toward lost fortunes—or coming storms.

In the Screeching Valley, the wind itself is alive—a banshee chorus shrieking between pillars of basalt. Travelers pack their ears with wax and carve runes into their boots, hoping to muffle the voices that promise glory and disaster in the same breath. In the Screeching Valley, the wind itself is alive—a banshee chorus shrieking between pillars of basalt. Travelers pack their ears with wax and carve runes into their boots, hoping to muffle the voices that promise glory and disaster in the same breath.

Perched atop rusted stilts at the edge of the Dreadmire, the Crooked Lantern Inn sways with the sigh of every midnight breeze. Lanterns of green witchfire hang from the eaves, casting odd shadows that sometimes blink or slither. The innkeeper, a broad-shouldered woman with a jaw set like an anchor, never asks your name, and guests sometimes leave a little lighter—sometimes in pocket, sometimes in soul. Perched atop rusted stilts at the edge of the Dreadmire, the Crooked Lantern Inn sways with the sigh of every midnight breeze. Lanterns of green witchfire hang from the eaves, casting odd shadows that sometimes blink or slither. The innkeeper, a broad-shouldered woman with a jaw set like an anchor, never asks your name, and guests sometimes leave a little lighter—sometimes in pocket, sometimes in soul.

Jasper Nail, gambler and confidence man, flashes a smile as sharp as a snake’s fang and never loses at cards. His lucky silver coin—always spinning, never settling—has a habit of vanishing into thin air when lawmen come calling. No one knows where he came from, but every saloon has a tale about his last, impossible escape. Jasper Nail, gambler and confidence man, flashes a smile as sharp as a snake’s fang and never loses at cards. His lucky silver coin—always spinning, never settling—has a habit of vanishing into thin air when lawmen come calling. No one knows where he came from, but every saloon has a tale about his last, impossible escape.

Deep within the Umbral Warrens, the Echo Wolf prowls—its fur a roiling tapestry of shadows, eyes like coals plucked from the last fire of the world. It leaves no tracks, only a lingering echo of mournful howling that rattles in the bones of those who dare trespass. Some say to meet its gaze is to see every regret you’ve ever buried. Deep within the Umbral Warrens, the Echo Wolf prowls—its fur a roiling tapestry of shadows, eyes like coals plucked from the last fire of the world. It leaves no tracks, only a lingering echo of mournful howling that rattles in the bones of those who dare trespass. Some say to meet its gaze is to see every regret you’ve ever buried.

Instantly create evocative, system-agnostic descriptions for any creature, NPC, or scene. Just click from the TokenHUD’s Crystal Menu—Forge delivers flavorful text right to chat, ready to read or copy to your notes.

Homebrew

Create detailed homebrew content using intuitive, in-app forms. Choose from presets or customize your own. When you’re done, save your results to a Foundry journal or clipboard for instant use in your game.

Powerful Chat Commands

Prefer keyboard shortcuts? Interact with Forge’s features directly using chat commands—generate names, descriptions, or homebrew in real time, right from the chat box.