I entered my interview with the architects of Gates of Krystalia—an isekai-inspired tabletop RPG—shielded by a thick layer of cynicism. The project’s reliance on AI-generated imagery is a practice I fundamentally resist, and its adherence to hyper-stylized anime tropes typically falls outside my aesthetic preferences. However, after engaging with co-creators Andrea Ruggeri and Alberto Dianin, my preconceptions were challenged. While I remain certain this specific title isn’t for me, it is impossible to dismiss it as a mere cynical cash grab designed to exploit a niche fandom. Regardless of one’s stance on its methods, the sheer existence and success of Gates of Krystalia provides a startling glimpse into a potential metamorphosis of indie game development.
In the world of Gates of Krystalia, players assume the roles of “otherworlders” transported into a high-fantasy realm, navigating challenges using a standard 52-card deck rather than traditional polyhedral dice. Following the multiverse-expanding Part Deux, the series’ third installment focuses on Lumina, a central world currently being funded via Kickstarter. Ruggeri views the game as a distillation of a lifetime spent immersed in JRPGs and anime, bolstered by his professional background as a game store proprietor. He possesses an unwavering conviction in his product, even as it leans into polarizing territory.
The Core Rulebook includes a controversial “Hero’s Harem” chapter, cataloging a series of NPCs with whom players can forge romantic bonds. The gallery is a study in archetypes: characters are uniformly tall, light-skinned, and conventionally attractive. The visual language leans heavily into exaggerated physiques—voluptuous for women and muscular for men. Aside from the Dark Elf lineage, the cast feels remarkably homogenous. Even the Dwarven representatives bypass traditional fantasy tropes, appearing as blue-eyed, blonde humans without the hallmark beard.
When questioned about this lack of diversity, Ruggeri argued that he is simply mirroring the established conventions of the isekai genre. “I am channeling the specific cultural output of Japan into this game,” he explained, suggesting that Western sensitivities toward representation aren’t always reflected in the media he seeks to emulate. He contends that the genre thrives on these recognizable labels and tropes, creating a product tailored to a specific, existing appetite.
While this defense broadly generalizes Japanese media—which contains plenty of works that subvert such tropes—it holds some weight within the specific, “pop” corner of isekai that Gates of Krystalia replicates. Even acclaimed fantasy series like Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End maintain a very specific, polished aesthetic, though they often handle character depth differently.
The game’s reliance on “fan service” is more contentious. While titans of the genre like Re:Zero or That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime often use suggestive themes sparingly or for comedic effect, Gates of Krystalia embraces them fully as a core component of its identity.
In Part Deux—a book marketed as suitable for all ages—one finds particularly suggestive imagery. Ruggeri defended this by pointing to Genshin Impact, which maintains a 12+ rating despite its notorious “gacha” fanservice. The book uses Nami, a cheeky fox-girl narrator, to mock readers who might find the content jarring, framing it as a “true fan” litmus test. This approach suggests that the game views controversy not as a hurdle, but as a deliberate marketing tool to solidify its bond with a very specific demographic.
Ruggeri did, however, provide a more nuanced look at the romance mechanics. He noted that the system is less about sexual conquest and more about deepening social bonds, citing the evolution of Goku and Vegeta’s relationship in Dragon Ball Z as an inspiration. Nevertheless, he admitted the “harem” branding was a strategic choice to garner immediate attention in a crowded market.
The most striking aspect of the project is that Ruggeri effectively built it alone, leveraging his background in graphic design and his mastery of AI tools. With no prior experience in system design, he penned the rules and handled the layout in remarkably short cycles—roughly six to seven months per book. He dismissed the need for extensive playtesting, arguing that since the game is cooperative rather than competitive, mechanical imbalances are secondary to the experience of the narrative.
While veteran game designers might recoil at the idea of bypassing rigorous testing, the financial results are indisputable. Gates of Krystalia has successfully funded and launched three books in just over a year, with the latest campaign surpassing $100,000 in its first day. Much of this logistical success stems from Alberto Dianin’s expertise in marketing and publishing, but the speed of production is purely a result of Ruggeri’s streamlined, AI-integrated workflow.
Dianin emphasizes the game’s “gamified” layout—heavy on infographics and visual cues rather than dense columns of text—as its primary selling point. This visual-first philosophy is powered entirely by Ruggeri’s use of Stable Diffusion and ComfyUI. To address ethical concerns, the team released a video detailing their process, which involves Ruggeri using his own sketches as the foundation for the AI-generated output. They have also begun hiring traditional artists for the Lumina expansion, marking a shift toward a hybrid production model.
The reality is that these books reach the market at an unprecedented pace because the team has removed the traditional friction of collaborative development. By eliminating the back-and-forth between writers, artists, and testers, Ruggeri can translate his singular vision directly into a retail product.
From my perspective, the game suffers for it. The mechanics feel like an uneasy marriage of extreme simplicity and excessive data tables, and the lack of external feedback is evident in the derivative nature of its world-building. However, the market has responded differently. With over 2,000 physical copies sold and a thriving community on Discord, Gates of Krystalia has found its audience.
This raises a pivotal question: is this the future of indie publishing? Are we entering an era where AI transforms any ambitious fan into a one-person studio? While critics may balk at the methods, the consumer remains the ultimate arbiter. Gates of Krystalia proves that a significant segment of the hobby is perfectly willing to embrace AI-driven content if it delivers on a specific fantasy. It is a formidable, if slightly unsettling, realization of what the future of tabletop gaming might look like.
Source: Polygon
