The Electric State RPG Core Rulebook

When Free League Publishing announced The Electric State RPG, fans of Simon Stålenhag's evocative art and storytelling had every reason to be excited. The Electric State is more than just a tabletop role-playing game; it's a journey into a hauntingly beautiful, alternate 1997 America, filled with broken robots, looming monoliths, and the melancholy of a world unraveling. As someone who has spent far too many evenings poring over Stålenhag's original artbook, I couldn't wait to get my hands on this core rulebook. Here's how it measures up.

Free League has always excelled at making books that are as much art pieces as they are game manuals, and The Electric State core rulebook is no exception. Every page drips with atmosphere, thanks to Stålenhag's art, which is interwoven with the text in a way that enhances both. You'll find sprawling, desolate landscapes punctuated by surreal machines and faded remnants of human civilization. The artwork doesn't just set the tone; it's integral to the storytelling. You could lose hours flipping through the book just for the visuals, even if you never rolled a single die.
The layout is clean and functional, with a retro-futuristic aesthetic that screams late '90s nostalgia. Fonts and graphical elements feel authentic to the era, lending the book a sense of immersion even before you start reading.

If you're unfamiliar with The Electric State, the premise is a uniquely Stålenhag twist on post-apocalypse. The year is 1997, and America has been hollowed out by a mix of war, environmental decay, and the rise of neural VR technology that has rendered much of the population inert. Massive drones and lifeless machines litter the landscape, and players are left to navigate the eerie emptiness of a world that's lost its humanity. It's not the Mad Max chaos of most post-apocalyptic settings; it's quieter, sadder, and profoundly introspective.
The rulebook does an excellent job of fleshing out the setting while leaving room for player and GM interpretation. There are detailed sections on the neural networks, the purpose of the towering monoliths, and the enigmatic drones, but much of the lore is delivered in a deliberately fragmented way, mirroring the disjointed, broken nature of the world itself. This is a setting that thrives on mystery, and the book smartly doesn't spell everything out.

The game uses a tweaked version of Free League's Year Zero Engine (YZE), which has been praised for its simplicity and narrative focus. If you've played Tales from the Loop or Mutant: Year Zero, you'll find this system familiar, though it's been tailored to suit the melancholic tone of The Electric State.
Players create characters using a set of archetypes like the Nomad, Scavenger, or Caretaker, each tied to the setting's themes of survival and loss. Attributes and skills are rolled using a pool of d6s, with successes determined by rolling 6s. Push mechanics—allowing players to re-roll dice at the risk of accruing Stress points—add a layer of tension, particularly in a world where resources and stability are scarce.

The most intriguing addition is the Memory mechanic. As players explore the world, they're encouraged to create and recall Memories, which provide mechanical benefits but also ground their characters in the story's emotional core. It's a subtle but brilliant way to tie mechanics to roleplay, reinforcing the game's focus on personal and collective loss.
Combat is sparse and deadly, which fits the setting. This isn't a game about mowing down hordes of enemies; it's about survival and making hard choices in a world that's already falling apart. The system's simplicity keeps the focus on narrative and atmosphere rather than crunchy mechanics, which feels like the right call.

GMs in The Electric State have a lot of creative freedom, but the book provides excellent tools to guide them. There's a robust section on crafting the desolate world, filled with prompts, random tables, and advice on how to create that distinct blend of wonder and dread. The game emphasizes collaboration, encouraging players to contribute to the world-building process, which can make sessions feel more immersive and personal.
One of the standout features is the way the book frames adventure design. Instead of traditional quests, GMs are encouraged to think in terms of journeys, encounters, and vignettes. The focus isn't on achieving objectives but on experiencing the world and grappling with its mysteries. It's a refreshing approach that feels perfectly suited to the game's tone.

One of The Electric State's strengths is its accessibility. The rules are straightforward, and the book does a good job of walking new players and GMs through character creation, mechanics, and setting expectations. If you're coming from a heavier system like Dungeons & Dragons, the transition to YZE's streamlined approach might feel like a breath of fresh air. That said, experienced players will appreciate the depth hidden in the game's simplicity, particularly the emphasis on narrative and emotional storytelling.

As much as I adore this book, it's not without its flaws. The fragmented approach to world-building, while thematically appropriate, might frustrate players or GMs looking for more concrete answers about the setting. Some sections feel a little underdeveloped, leaving gaps that could require significant GM improvisation.
Additionally, while the game's focus on introspection and atmosphere is a strength, it might not appeal to everyone. If your group prefers high-stakes action or complex mechanics, this isn't the game for you. The Electric State is a slow burn, and its greatest rewards come from leaning into its quieter, emotional moments.

The Electric State RPG Core Rulebook is a triumph of thematic design. It captures the essence of Simon Stålenhag's art and storytelling, translating it into a tabletop experience that's as evocative as it is engaging. Free League has once again proven why they're one of the best in the business when it comes to narrative-focused RPGs.
If you're a fan of Stålenhag's work, post-apocalyptic settings, or games that prioritize story and emotion over mechanics, this is a must-have. It's not just a game; it's an invitation to step into a world that feels both alien and heartbreakingly familiar. Just don't expect it to hold your hand—like the world it depicts, The Electric State is as much about the journey as the destination.