Sunday, April 5, 2020

Types of Magic



Much like how the Angry GM wrote a post exploring the lore of undead in his home game, I figured I would do the same here. I wrote some musings on the different types of magic in my homebrew game.

This follows closely with the three types of magic presented in the implied universe of D&D: divine, primal, and arcane. However, it expands a bit on the differences behind them and rationale for each.

It seems as if the rulesets I use – from Labyrinth Lord to 5e – provide little explanation when it comes to magic. The rules seem to simply say, “There’s magic, and this is how it works for player characters.” And that’s about it – there’s little about how magic works in the world at large, where it came from, or why it works the way it does.

In some ways, this omission is a good thing. It keeps the ruleset generic, so it can fit in just about any campaign world you want to play. Furthermore, it keeps magic “magical.” In other words, it keeps magic mysterious and unknown, rather than some simple mechanical effect. This leaves referees free to make stuff up and introduce unknown effects, since neither the players nor the GM know everything about magic at the outset.

At the same time, as a GM, I’ve often found myself floundering for explanations of some effects in the game. Why can spellcasters only cast a limited number of spells per day? Why do spellcasters gain more spells as they level? Why do magic-users need spellbooks, while clerics just need their holy symbols? Why does magic require movements and words? All of these seem like questions with no definite answers. So, I took it upon myself to answer them (at least in part) to provide depth and clarity to my game world. I think it helps maintain a sense of consistency. Hopefully, you will find something useful here to mine for your own game.

CLERICS

Clerics use divine magic. They access this magic by inviting a fragment of a god to fuse with their souls. To invite a god-fragment, the would-be cleric must engage in powerful prayer. Some gods also demand some sort of sacrifice. This invitation ritual often manifests as an initiation into a clerical order. 

The god may not always accept the invitation. Whether the god accepts any invitation depends on the nature of the god; Lawful gods behave predictably and reliably, whereas Chaotic gods may offer communion sporadically.

Gods are also known to initiate communion during times of intense passion or emotion. For example, a good-aligned god may commune with a mortal’s soul when they pray for help in a dire situation, such as to save a sick family member or a drowning child. An evil god may commune with a mortal’s soul when they pray in a moment of intense hatred or anger, such as when the mortal contemplates murder or wishes ill upon a rival. The story of how a cleric came to commune with a god would likely by part of a player character’s backstory.

Once the communion takes place, the mortal’s soul is fused with a small fragment of the god. The mortal is essentially “twin-souled,” with one portion their own and the other deific. The mortal’s soul is essentially a flowerpot, and the god fragment is the flower that grows from it.

The mortal can expand and grow their god-fragment by nurturing the “soil” in which they grow. In other words, the mortal must behave and act in ways aligned with their god. For example, a peaceful good-aligned god would be nurtured by beneficent acts, prayer, and meditation. A chaotic deity of drunkenness and revelry would be nurtured by drink, debauchery, and carousing. This explains why clerics gain power as they “level,” since the overall health of their god-flower increases.

When a cleric performs a miracle, they remove part of the god-fragment from their soul and manifest it as a spell. Keeping with the conceit of the cleric’s god-fragment being a flower, it is as if they were to pluck one or more petals from the flower and cast them into the world as magical energy.

Just as a flower wanes without care, neglecting their god’s wishes or “over-pruning” the flower (by calling upon too many miracles) causes their god-fragment to wither. Furthermore, calling upon too much clerical power at once could rip more than petals from the “flower” – it could “uproot” it. Such would result, not only in destruction of the god-fragment, but in destruction – partial or complete – of the cleric’s own soul.

DRUIDS

Druids use primal magic. They access this magic by altering the “frequency” of their existence to harmonize with that of the natural world, like tuning a radio knob. When a Druid is “in-tune” with the natural environment, they act as a conduit that channels the latent energy of the earth through themselves and “out” as magic – like how a radio plays music, when tuned.

Rather than a flowerpot, like a cleric’s soul, a Druid’s soul can be likened to river. Druids spend hours of meditation, prayer, and devotion communing with nature to “unclog their river,” freeing it of obstructions that impede the flow of natural magical energy. The soul of a beginning Druid is like a slow rivulet, while the soul of an experienced Druid is like a mighty, rushing river. As a Druid gains power, their “soul-river” becomes faster and more free-flowing.

Such explains why Druids are unable to wear metal armor. Just as aluminum foil blocks radio waves, refined metals block the “waves” of energy from the natural world. Essentially, wearing metal would be like constructing a dam would stop a Druid’s “soul-river.” This also explains why many Druids choose to wear no shoes, as walking unshod removes another barrier between them and the natural world. Allowing the dirt between their toes provides a Druid greater communion with the earth.

Should a Druid live in a way dissonant with the natural order, they lose their connection to primal magic. Furthermore, should they channel too much primal energy through themselves, they burst like an overfilled waterskin. A Druid that attempts to harness too much magical energy at once would be like a pipe with too much fluid forced through it. Should the pressure exceed their capacity, the natural world will subsume the Druid. For some overzealous Druids, this meant exploding in a mess of butterflies and moss.

MAGIC-USERS

Magic-Users use arcane magic. No mortal alive comprehends the full scope of arcane magic, but the following description represents the extent to which the most scholars and sages currently understand it. There exist “frequencies” of existence, which manifest as the “planes.” Like how radios operate on AM and FM, or electricity operates with AC and DC, there are the “inner” and “outer” planes - the two frequencies of existence. The third plane, the “elemental” plane, exists between them.


The inner plane consists of the material world and its various forms. Such is where Druids draw their magic from. There can be different versions of the material world – such as the Feywilds, or the Shadowfell – but they are all fundamentally the same in the sense that they are filled with material matter.

The outer planes consist of the immaterial world and the gods. Rather than material objects, the outer planes are filled with the perfect, ideal expressions of ideas, concepts, and beliefs. Such is the plane from which Clerics draw their magic.

The third plane, the “elemental plane,” exists where the inner and outer planes meet. This is where material matter is transformed into its ideal components: fire, earth, air and water.
The third plane is a transitive, border plane. It is always in flux, as it is the meeting-place of the ideal and the material. This third “elemental” plane is like the beach, if the inner plane were land and the outer plane was the sea. If the inner plane was the interior of the sun and the outer plane the emptiness of space, the third elemental plane would be the sun’s surface: maintained by the constant tension between gravity and nuclear fusion.

This third, elemental plane provides the source of arcane magic. If the divine magic wielded by Clerics were the “left hand” of the universe and the primal magic wielded by Druids its “right hand,” arcane magic comes from the “heat” generated from the “friction” of the two.

Such explains why magic-users rely on the written word for their magic, or spell books and spell scrolls. The written word is a physical manifestation of an ideal form. All magical writing is essentially an exercise in the calligraphy of ideas; a written spell is an attempt to perfectly express a concept or idea as a material object (the written word).

Magic-Users possess one significant difference from Clerics and Druids. While Clerics use divine magic to further the ideals of their god and Druids use primal magic to maintain the “balance” of the natural world, Magic-Users use arcane magic for their own ends. These may be humanitarian or selfless ends, but they are nonetheless the Magic-User’s ends.

As such, Clerical and Druidical magic come at some cost. Each requires the sacrifice of some individual freedom to wield. Clerics must live in accordance with their deity’s ideals, whereas Druids must harmonize with the natural world and attune to it. Magic-users sacrifice none of their own individual freedom by wielding their magic. This exception grants them great power.

The cost of wielding arcane magic is the magic-user’s sanity. By tapping into and channeling the ideal expressions of concepts without the protection of the divine, magic-users fray at their mind’s integrity over time. This cost explains the eccentricities of most magic-users, especially in habits and modes of dress. It also explains the trope of the “mad wizard” – as such a fate meets most dedicated magic-users, in one form or another, near the end of their career.

Friday, February 21, 2020

Barrowmaze: Hacking Barrow Mound #16


I recently encountered barrow mound #16 from Barrowmaze, titled “The Sword-Mound of the Ancients.” In this sealed tomb, six skeletal warriors stand in alcoves surrounding an altar. A bejeweled magic longsword lies there and, predictably, attack anyone who tries to take the sword. This is pretty much all the detail Barrowmaze provides about the tomb.

Barrowmaze’s brevity is one of its strengths. As Greg Gillespie’s instructions state at the beginning of the game, “Barrowmaze uses a shortened entry style. This approach encourages the Referee to read the entry and then convey the scene while making eye contact with the players. This style allows the Referee to play the dungeon with minimal preparation time. This approach also encourages you to play with your players rather than reading aloud to them.”
 
And I get it. Having short, concise descriptions can be a good thing. However, there are also times when I think the paucity of text hinders Barrowmaze. I think this tomb is one of those times. As an RPG player who looks for fantasy and narrative engagements, this tomb temptingly raises several questions that have no answer, such as:
·         Who are the skeletal warriors around this sword?
·         Why are the skeletal warriors protecting this sword?
·         What’s special about this sword?
·         Why did the barrow’s creators entomb this sword, rather than use it themselves?

Furthermore, the tomb itself feels logically inconsistent. Those who buried the sword here obviously intended to keep people from using it, as they sealed the tomb and surrounded the sword with six skeletons that attack anyone who tries to take it.

However, despite their intention, the trap the tomb’s designers made is woefully easy to spot. What could anyone expect to happen, if you see a tantalizing enchanted sword lying on an altar surrounded by six skeletons in a necromantic dungeon? What’s to keep a tomb robber from “yoink-ing” the sword and quickly running from the tomb before the skeletons can shake the dust off their bones? What’s to keep tomb robbers from murdering the helpless skeletons before they animate, crushing their skulls or whatever?

To be clear, I’m not against letting the party circumvent challenges with clever solutions. But the trap here feels uninspired, and the solutions to it feel “too easy” and unearned. The party can simply get a Generic Sword of +1 Banality “for free” by grabbing it and running away. That solution hardly seems clever, just obvious.

So, I took it upon myself to “flesh out” this scenario a bit. This comes at the expense of adding more words to its description, but I think it “pays off” in terms of depth, and originality.

PART 1: THE STORY OF BARROW MOUND #16

Gann was a simple farmer until he witnessed a giant eat his wife and infant son whole. In a rage, Gann threw a spear through the giant’s eye and, when the giant knelt in pain, slit its neck. From the giant’s bones, Gann carved the baneful sword Splinter and set upon a rampage against the giants, eventually killing their chief Senach and halting their incursions against the humans (for a while).

Gann eventually died. His surviving shield-mates, none of whom possessed Gann’s strength and wisdom, carved a tomb for him and laid his sword there - as none of them were able to use it. For a while, pilgrims ventured to his burial site and attempted to lift his sword, but none succeeded. With time, his remaining shield-mates died and were interred there. The barrow-builders sealed his tomb with the sword inside.

PART 2: THE GREATSWORD OF BONE, KNOWN AS “SPLINTER”

Splinter is a two-handed greatsword constructed of giants’ bones. Its handle and blade are carved of a single bone. A cross-guard fashioned from a second piece of bone fits over it. Blood from ages past stains its tallow-colored blade. Runes decorate it and imbue it with magic.

The runes say, “Strength and wisdom bring justice to those who prey on those smaller than themselves.” As a result, only a character with a Strength score of 16 or higher and a Wisdom score of 13 or higher can effectively wield Splinter. The sword feels impossibly heavy for any other creature.

Human-sized creatures wield Splinter as a two-handed sword. When fighting giants, Splinter has a magical +3 bonus. When fighting other creatures, Splinter has a magical +1 bonus. When fighting creatures smaller than oneself (ex. halflings), Splinter instead attacks the wielder as a +3 weapon.

Splinter, being constructed of bone, weighs half as much as a metal two-handed sword. It feels surprisingly light in its wielder’s hands. However, it is also fragile. At the referee’s discretion (ex. when used against metal armor or subject to a sundering attempt), Splinter begins to fracture and may eventually break. Clerical magic can repair it (ex. the cure light wounds or restoration spells) but not traditional smithing.

PART 3: BARROW MOUND #16 (HACKED)

“You descend a short flight of stairs into a tomb sixty feet long and thirty feet wide. Six upright sarcophagi line the walls, three on each side. Unlit braziers and wall carvings decorate the space between each. A seventh sarcophagus lies horizontally at the opposite end of the room, atop a small flight of stairs. An altar sits in front of the sarcophagus, a rune-covered sword lying atop it on a dusty crimson cloth.”

·         Six Upright Sarcophagi: Made of mortared giants’ bones. Five have names carved on them, each containing the remains of Gann’s shield-mates. Breaching the lid of any named sarcophagus causes the all the skeletons to animate and attack the tomb-robbers. They pursue the desecrators with supernatural persistence until either the tomb-robbers or they themselves are defeated. Should they defeat the tomb-robbers, the skeletons hunt giants once more with the fragments of memory they still possess. The one sarcophagus without a name on it has an open back leading to #81.


·         Braziers: made of hollowed-out giants’ skulls. Filled with cold coals.

·         Decorative Wall Carvings: Four in total (one between each pair of the shield-mates’ sarcophagi)
  1. Depicting Gann throwing a spear through a giant’s eye with a house burning in the background
  2. Depicting Gann carving a bone into the shape of a sword, a light from heaven shining down on him
  3. Depicting Gann and his five shield-mates slaying an army of giants while wielding Splinter
  4. Depicting Gann boarding a ship with no sails (representing death), taking the hands of a woman and boy (his wife and son) who reside there. His sword lies behind him on an altar, surrounded by a throng of people.
·         Seventh Sarcophagus: Made of mortared giants’ bones. The graven image on its lid depicts Gann in repose. Opening the lid reveals Gann inside and causes Gann and his shield-mates to animate. Two urns on either side of the sarcophagus bear the names of his wife and son, as well as a prayer that they find peace in the afterlife despite their physical remains being destroyed. An inscription from Gann on each says he loves them.

·         Altar: Here Splinter lies on a crimson cloth, surrounded by candles long unlit. A carving on the altar says, "May one as strong and wise as Gann wield this blade once more."