Magic Words in Practice

I thought I’d expand on the idea I presented in yesterday’s post with a demonstration of what I’m talking about. So I googled “Random dictionary word,” and clicked around on a few sites. I skipped past words like “Floriken” and “Antrum,” and settled on four common words. Below, I’ve mixed and matched the words, and turned their various combinations into 1st level spells.

Star

Indirection

Fight

Seat

Stars of Indirection
The first person who is touched by the caster after this spell is cast becomes cursed. Any attempt to use the stars as a means of navigation will return a false result. The navigator will believe they have read the stars correctly. But any attempt to travel based on that navigation will lead in a random direction. This curse lasts one month, and a save versus Magic negates the effect.

Star Fighter
If cast during combat, a target within 100′ will be perceived as impressive by everyone who sees them. Even a bungling commoner with a sword they don’t understand how to use will be percieved as a peerless warrior. Weaker foes will become intimidated and may flee or falter before the Star Fighter. More ambitious opponents, meanwhile, will be drawn to the Star Fighter as a means of winning glory for themselves. This effect ends after the Star Fighter spends an adventuring turn out of combat. If the target wishes, they may make a save versus Magic to resist the spell’s effect.

Star Seat
A throne made of the night sky is summoned for 1 hour. Anyone but the caster attempting to sit in the throne will cause it to dissipate into a cold mist. When the caster sits on the throne, they percieve themselves to be miles above their own body, looking down at the world from the heavens. From this height, it’s impossible to discern any details. However, it can be used to make an effective map of the area within a 10 mile radius of the caster. The caster will also be able to see any sufficiently large phenomena, such as a town being on fire, or an army on the march. While sitting in the Star Seat, the caster will be completely unaware of anything happening to their body, including hit point damage.

Seat
A single human or human-like target must make a save versus Paralyzation or immediately sit down and remain seated for 1 turn per caster level. If there is a chair within arm’s reach, they may sit in that, but otherwise they must simply sit on the floor. Swimming, flying, or climbing targets don’t simply fall to whatever surface is beneath them, but may move themselves along the most expedient course to a seat that is not lethal to them. So long as the target’s butt remains in constant contact with a horizontal surface, they are otherwise free to move and act.

Seat of Indirection
This spell is cast on a chair or other sitting place, and lasts for 1 hour per caster level. Anyone sitting in that seat is more easily fooled than normal. They are not charmed, they are merely a little more gullible than they would normally be. If using the social system presented in “On The Non Player Character” by Courtney Campbell, treat this as a +2 to social action rolls. +3 if the social action is Gamble.

Indirect Fighting
A willing target within 30′ is able to attack indirectly for 2 rounds per caster level. They may use any weapons or techniques they possess to attack someone within 30′ of themselves, without actually touching them. On a successful attack roll, the target takes damage normally. The target doesn’t receive any AC bonus from dexterity.

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I couldn’t think of an interesting spell for Seat + Fight that didn’t feel redundant. (The Fighter’s Seat?, The Seated Fighter?, Seat Fighting?) If a player handed me that spell I’d probably ask for their input, or just rehash Seat of Indirection, allowing the caster to curse a chair to make whomever sits in it more likely to attack someone.

Spell lists suck. Here are some magic words.

Spell lists feel wrong to me. Magic is a rare and eldritch thing, feared and hated by decent folk. To quote James Raggi, “Magic is art, not science. Each work of magic […] is something that must be done from scratch each time. Merely replicating what has already been done will never work.” Given that, it seems strange that magic in most games is restricted to a static list of 20 spells per level.

I get that spell lists are a useful abstraction. I get that even this very simple system of magic can make a character feel complex and clunky when compared to non-spellcaster classes. There are a lot of ways to mitigate this problem. Opening up the spell list to supplements and expanding the range of possible spells can introduce some truly weird elements into your game world. There are some awesome spell lists out there. (Theorums and Tharmaturgy, Wonder and Wickedness, etc.) But that can begin to feel overwhelming if you open it up too much. Every time a spell is cast, you gotta remember which book its from and look it up. I know you’ve all seen that haggard look in the referee’s eyes when you cast a spell and they have no idea what it does.

A really dedicated referee could just homebrew all of their campaign world’s spells. But that’s a metric fuckton of work, and in the end you’re still limiting yourself to lists. What I’d really like to see is for players to make up their own spells.

Spellcrafting rules exist in pretty much every system I’ve ever played, but I’ve never actually seen anybody use them. I’m sure somebody out there does it, but they’re certainly in the minority. And it’s not because players are lazy or uncreative. The systems we’re using are not properly incentivizing players to craft their own spells, and that’s a bummer. I’d like to fix that.

My brother and I have been tinkering with an idea based around combining different magical words. At the start of play, the caster gets some random spells as per usual, which they can memorize and cast in proper Vancian fashion. But if they want to acquire any further spells, they’ll need to collect an arsenal of words, and combine them in different patterns to create new spells.

The words are simply the titles of the spells. So, a caster who begins play with “Unseen Servant” and “Fairy Fire” in their spellbook, has four magical words at their disposal: Fire, Fairy, Servant, and Unseen. The caster can then mix and match these options in various ways. They might craft “Fairy Servant,” or “Unseen Fire,” or “Fire Servant,” or “Servant (of) Fire.”

Finding additional words would serve as an interesting form of treasure for casters, and it would be fun to give them particularly odd sounding words and see how the players tinker with them. What will your players do with the word “Teapot” for example?

After the caster combines the words, they present the spell title to the referee, along with the level of the spell they’re trying to create. Only one spell can be crafted per session, and it can only be crafted at the end of the session. The crafting process fills the time between sessions, and when the next session begins the referee should present the caster with a spell.

Writing a single spell between sessions shouldn’t be too much trouble for the referee. The only real issue I see with the system is that you will certainly end up with wildly unbalanced spell lists. My solution is to play with people who won’t throw a hissy fit when you say you want to nerf one of their spells, but obviously that’s not a good standard for rules design. Still, I’m willing to let balance be a little out of whack in exchange for more creative spells.

And, I would argue, this system actually results in less complicated magic users. Part of the reason that spell list based magic systems are so daunting is that the player feels the need to be familiar with all of the spells in order to make an intelligent decision about which spells to pursue. Using this system, there are no spells to be familiar with. Only simple, singular words; and only a handful of those.

How should mind affecting spells work on PCs?

Mind affecting spells cast on players are a tricky business.

With NPCs, there are no wrong answers. Can Charm Person be used to turn the bandit into a loyal henchman, or will the spell be broken as soon as you stab his friend? We can argue about one method or another being more fun, but in the end it doesn’t matter which method you use. The NPC isn’t going to feel like they’ve been treated unfairly. But a player might.

Lately, my most consistent D&D game has been Saturday morning Necrocarserous with John Bell. My character, Urlar of Yellow Waters, has been possessed by dragon spirits, dominated by an intelligent item, and affected by a spell which convinced me that my companions had been corrupted and that the only way to give them peace was to kill and eat them. Far from feeling like I was being treated unfairly, these moments where I lost normal control over my character are some of the most entertaining highlights of my time as a cog in the Necrocarserous Program.

My character didn’t turn into a temporary NPC while I sat on the sidelines and watched the game unfold. Nor did John ever tell me what specific actions I had to take. Instead, my character was given a goal. With the Dragon spirits, it was fairly broad. “Act in the best interests of the dragon cult” or something. Being empowered by the dragon spirits, I actually got a ton of boosts to my abilities, and a whole cult worth of people doing my bidding. Unfortunately, the rest of the party was in the process of robbing the dragon cult. Obviously I’m on the side of the party, but right now, Urlar is on the side of the dragons. So I ordered ‘my’ cultists to destroy the stone dome the magic user summoned to protect himself. The MU was the one actually in possession of the cult’s property, and thus should be our primary target. When a hole opened that was big enough to shoot arrows through, I insisted the cultists continue to focus on destroying the dome. A small hole, I reasoned, only allows a single arrow to fire through it, but a large hole can allow a steady stream of cultists into the dome to overwhelm the intruder. Eventually, my intentionally bad tactics allowed the party to withdraw successfully. (I don’t recall how they extricated me, but they did. Once I got back to town I had the tumor that allowed me to see dragon spirits removed.)

Being mind controlled in Necrocarserous isn’t something that happens to you. The player is not a passive participant. Mind control is a puzzle that can be solved. The player knows what their goal is, and they are obligated to pursue it. (John often tells me ‘no,’ and clarifies the nature of my goal when I try to deviate too much.) But any path to the goal that makes sense will be accepted. And thus can a mind controlled player minimize the damage they do to the party’s goals. Or even work towards the party’s goals if they are particularly clever about their reasoning.

This is how I want to run mind affecting spells from now on. As a complication which forces the player to stretch their ingenuity to the limits, rather than a buzzkill that bums the player out.

Magical Marvels 27: Swordaxe and Scroll on Pink Paper

I don’t know when I drew this. I would estimate about 6-8 years old. Thought it would be fun to make a magic item out of it.

The Swordaxe of Bath’un Ra

It was very sad when the town smith went mad. He’d been kind, well liked, and exceptionally skilled. Then one day he began babbling loudly at all hours, and throwing himself into walls. The man had no family, and there was some discussion about whether he ought to be locked up, or given a merciful death.

Then it was discovered that if he was allowed into his workshop, his babbling ceased. He moved about like his old self, working steel as competently as he ever had. He didn’t speak at all, but he seemed happy and competent enough, so the townsfolk kept an eye on him and hoped he’d come out of his dementia eventually. No one paid particular attention to the sword he was crafting, festooned with half the gems and precious metals he had in his stores.

What the others had taken for madness, was in fact a horrific possession by a dark thing that had survived from when the world was young. A creature called Bath’un Ra that had enslaved man before written history, and which had only now grown powerful enough to do so again.

Before leaving to inhabit the swordaxe, the spirit of Bath’un Ra forced the smith to throw himself upon his creation so that he could not reveal Bath’un Ra’s secrets once the spirit had left him. The next day the smith was found dead beside the swordaxe, along with a scroll covered in incomprehensible symbols. The village buried all three together, well outside the edge of town.

Powers

The swordaxe of Bath’un Ra is a one handed weapon that deals 1d8 damage. Bath’un Ra does not immediately reveal its presence to the wielder, but subtly communicates the weapon’s magical properties to whomever holds it.

If they wish, they may make an attack roll against an opponent with a +2 to hit roll. If the attack hits, no damage is dealt, but the weapon bursts into flame. Each time the wielder does this, the weapon charges up further, and the flame grows larger.

Once the swordaxe has been charged 3 times, the character can spend the charges to make an auto-hit attack dealing 3d10 damage. After the swordaxe has been charged 5 times, the wielder can spend the charges to make an auto-hit attack for 5d12. (Additional charges after 5 merely add an extra 1d12).

Note that the charges can only be spent on the specific foe they were gained from. The spirit of Bath’un Ra is learning the weaknesses of their soul during each non-damaging attack.

When the Swordaxe deals a killing blow, roll 1d12. On a roll of 1, Bath’un Ra’s spirit has grown powerful enough to place the wielder under a Geas. (save v. magic to resist). If the save is successful, and the character continues using the swordaxe, the referee should continue to roll 1d12 to determine when Bath’un Ra can attempt his Geas again. If the save fails, then disobeying the Geas is punished by death. (No save)

Those under Bath’un Ra’s spell must uncover an ancient temple from eons past, which has been buried beneath millennia of desert sands. Within they must find the demon king statue, and place the Swordaxe in the statue’s hand. Once this is done, the statue will turn to flesh, and Bath’Un Ra will return to the world.

The scroll found with the swordaxe is written in the nonsensical language of maddness. Because it was only ever understood by a single person (the smith,) Comprehend Language as cast by a 3rd level magic user is required to decipher it. Written there is Bath’un Ra’s true name, and the words of binding that will keep him subdued. Reading this scroll allows the wielder to use the swordaxe without any risk of being placed under a Geas.

The solution to running chases.

“Chase Scenes” in D&D are unsatisfying. For a few years now, I’ve been content with LotFP’s 1d20 + [Mov/10] rule. But that’s a stopgap. It gets the job done, but it doesn’t satisfy. Escaping from combat should be more variable.

Retired Adventurer is a criminally underrated blog. John Bell is a phenomenal world builder, rules designer, and game referee. He’s good enough that I drag myself out of bed at 5:30 AM every Saturday to play in his game.

This most recent Saturday, the party was leading a rich tourist around some ancient ruins. The dude was a fucking asshole who seemed intent on pissing off every monster he came across, but he was paying us 2500 obols each, so we gritted our teeth and took pictures of him posing with a statue of a sphinx. Then three real sphinx appeared, he made some racist comments. John said he was rolling initiative, and the rest of us said “we run.”

That’s when I encountered John’s rules for routs. Presented here in a modified form, based on some modifications by John, and a discussion about it on google+. I should note that I’ve altered the rule shown here to suit my own needs. It differs significantly from John’s original, so you should check that out as well.

Routs

Each round, each group of fugitives and pursuers rolls 2d6.

If the face value of a die in the pursuer’s roll matches the face value of a die in a fugitive’s roll, then the pursuers can make missile attacks at the fugitives.

If the pursuers roll a “7”, then they get close enough to each make a single melee attack at +4 against the fugitives.

If the fugitives roll a “7” then they have evaded sight long enough to make a stealth check. If the stealth check is successful, the fugitives have escaped. If the check is failed, the chase continues next round.

If both dice in a pursuer’s roll show the same value, then they have cornered the fugitives. The chase is ended, and regular combat resumes. The fugitives cannot continue to flee unless they make an opening for themselves, such as by slaying one of their pursuers.

If both dice in a fugitive’s roll show the same value, then they have escaped.

In the event that both the pursuers and fugitives roll one of the options above, only the fugitive’s roll counts.

If one party is faster than the other, then for each 30′ of difference in the two party’s speeds, the faster party gains 1 “Die Bump.” After each chase roll, a die bump can be used to adjust one die up or down by 1. (So a 3 can become a 2, or a 4). Multiple die bumps can easily turn the chase into a trivial thing. Dangerous for over-encumbered characters.

Of course, if the fugitives throw food / treasure, the pursuers should usually make morale checks as in LotFP standard. And the GM should keep track of the character’s random movements through their environment, so that once the chase ends, they have to deal with being lost.

Magical Marvels 26: Raggi’s Rejects 6: The Tragical History of the Life and Death of Doctor Faustus

A tattered manuscript of Christopher Marlowe’s play “The Tragical History of the Life and Death of Doctor Faustus.” The text has little in common with other surviving versions of the play. In fact, those copies were forged by church censors. They secretly distributed the texts to satisfy heretical curiosity about the banned play, without revealing the true depths of Marlowe’s sin. Marlowe himself was quietly put to death for his abominable work. This is the only surviving copy of what he truly wrote, written in his own hand. A note, hastily scrawled on the first page, reads:

“Will that the noblest of magics might flourish, and God’s abominable sorcery might perish.”

In this version of the play, Lucifer and Mephistophilis treat Faust fairly. God is depicted as an interloper. He attempts to reassert His will over Faust after being rejected. God even goes so far as to send an angel to steal Faust away, but is defeated when Lucifer sends one of his own servants to protect Faust. The play culminates in an orgy with Faust, his friends, a number of demons, and several nuns and priests who have been convinced to turn away from God.

The entire play is filled with unusual phrasings and invented words. In particular, the scene where Faust makes his pact with Lucifer is completely nonsensical when read. However, if actors memorize the lines properly, then during the performance of the play they will be compelled to improvise. The scene is different each time, but always conforms to the plot and style of the play. During this scene, shameful secrets of audience members, and bizarre prophecies are incorporated into the narrative.

When a performance of the play begins, anyone within 20 miles who has been baptized in the Christian faith feels compelled to stop the performance by any means. God has suspended free will to prevent this sin from occurring. Characters who wish to renounce their baptism may make a saving throw vs. magic to resist the compulsion. The referee is encouraged to be creative about renouncing God in His time of need. Performers and audience members are shielded from this compulsion.

To this day, the play has not been performed in full. If it is completed successfully, which requires 3 hours and 11 minutes, then God is banished from the world for 100 years. Clerical magic will disappear entirely during that time. Meanwhile, magic users and elves will feel as though they can think more clearly. As though their minds had been clouded during all of their life before now. For the purposes of learning or casting, all spells will be treated as 1 spell level lower than normal for the duration of God’s banishment. Magic users will begin using the fighter’s experience table, and elves will begin using the magic user’s. All characters, even the lowliest of peasants, will have a 30% chance of knowing one random 1^st level magic user spell.

The Bloodsoaked Boudoir of Velkis the Vile

Click here to download “The Bloodsoaked Boudoir of Velkis the Vile” by Nick LS Whelan

I made a thing! It’s a free adventure called The Bloodsoaked Boudoir of Velkis the Vile, available on DriveThru RPG. The Bloodsoaked Boudoir started life as a section of my Dungeon Moon campaign. My players loved Velkis and his Boudoir, so I’ve written them up with all the info you’d need to include them in any campaign setting.

The art was done by my (at the time) 17 year old brother Ronnie Whelan. It’s got an old school, DIY feel to it. Like the best of Arneson’s doodles in the original three little brown books. It’s a good fit for the adventure.

So, funny story.

My players killed Velkis multiple times and raided his Boudoir in its entirety way back in December 2013. This module was written by the end of January 2014. The art was all completed and delivered to me by sometime in March 2014 at the latest. During this period I told more than a few blog readers that I had a PDF coming out ‘in the next month or two.’ Meanwhile, this project sat on my hard drive rotting away as I put off the dreaded task of making a pdf.

I’ve got this bug in my thinking where I feel like any time I don’t spend writing is wasted time. So if I need to spend an entire day learning how to use Scribus, piecing together pages of work that I’ve already written, then at the end of the day I’ll feel like a failure. It’s ridiculous. No matter how much I write, my writing is worthless if it’s just sitting on my computer.
A couple weeks back, I committed myself to working on more small projects. Finally getting Velkis out the door is the first step in that commitment.

So go download Velkis. Read it. Run it. Tell me what you think of it because mom and dad didn’t love me enough and I thrive off of the affirmation of others.

Reviews

“Bloodsoaked Boudoir is not an arrogant product, it’s small and can fit into another game with some ease, while still being interesting enough to give an evocative sense of it’s authors sort of game and game world that is different enough from the standard ‘orcs in a hole’ fantasy adventure to provide interesting ideas, and leave a reader with the sense that maybe they wouldn’t have thought of it themselves. With all these advantages the author is happy enough to simply publish his work as a pay what you want PDF, rather then promote it and clamber for your cash.” –Gus L. of Dungeon of Signs

“I keep playing the Trogdar lyrics in my head. Velkis the Vile is a man. I mean a undead man. I mean a demon man. I mean an evil wizard man. I mean … well. He’s a mystery … and that’s a good thing. NOT putting ah ard label on something, or describing it fully, or explaining the whys and hows of everything leaves room for mystery and that’s a powerful technique. The DM’s own imagination then run rampant and fills in the details. People call him “the undead man.” RUmors says he’s a demon or an evil wizard. All we know is that he’s tall, gaunt, sunken features and eyes that bulge. The entire description of him, from physical appearance to his speech patterns and topics is great and gives you an IMMEDIATE vibe of how to play him.” –Bryce Lynch of Ten Foot Pole.

Magical Marvels 25: Raggi’s Rejects 5: The Trifold Parchment

A thick, trifolded parchment. The exterior has been decorated with a colorful sketch of humans doing battle with a muscular demon holding a wickedly curved sword. The interior is scrawled with baffling tables and calculations. At the center of the parchment’s interior are the words “Reject what occurs. Defy the cosmos. Cry out. “That doesn’t happen!””

At any time, the players may use this phrase (“That doesn’t happen!”) to reject the most recent ruling of their referee. When they do this, the paper bursts into flame, and the character holding it must save v. breath or take 2d6 damage.

The referee is now obligated to change the call to which their players objected. They must, in good faith, change their ruling to one that is more favorable to the players. But the referee is under no compulsion to respond in any specific way that the player’s desire.

The trifold parchment cannot overturn the results of a die roll, even if the players did not see the roll. Only deliberate decisions made by the referee can be affected. So the players cannot, for example, reject which monster appears after the referee rolls on the encounter table.

Attempts to use the parchment incorrectly don’t destroy it, but they do occur in game.

Magical Marvels 24: Raggi’s Rejects 4: The Doll that Loves Every Child

The above art was provided by +Moreven Brushwood. She is available for commissions at surprisingly low rates given the quality of her work. You should hire her for your tabletop project, or other project that requires art for some reason.

-The Doll that Loves Every Child-

A ragged toy, so worn that it’s little more than a human-shaped bit of padded cloth. As long as a character possesses it, any children that character sees are marked by the doll. This can include anything from the character’s own children, to a child the character caught a glimpse of in a large crowd.

When the doll is thrown, one of the marked children randomly falls ill. Their bodies absorb all of the heat around them. They become too hot to touch, and their skin blackens and flakes. Meanwhile, everything around them becomes cold enough to frost over. During their illness, the children aren’t aware of their surroundings. They only mutter constantly. They repeat a physical description of the doll’s owner. Or, if they know it, the doll owner’s name. They blame the character for their illness, saying things like “The peg legged woman did it. Why is she hurting me?” This condition lasts for a full day, after which the child dies.

Wherever the doll lands, a child identical to the dying one will appear. The PC should recognize the child as one they’ve seen before, even if they don’t recall where. The duplicates have a child’s understanding and physical ability, but no personality or will of their own. They will perform any single task they are given, then fall down dead. The body is, in every discernible sense, identical to the body of the other child. Save for its lack of mutilation from illness.

Each child the character has a personal relationship with has a 1% chance to appear when the doll is thrown. If none of these children appear, assume the victim was only glanced in passing during the character’s travels. If a hireling sees the child appear after the doll is thrown, they have a cumulative 1-in-12 chance of remembering seeing the child themselves. They will interpret this as magical kidnapping, and their loyalty should be checked.

The referee should keep track of how frequently this item is used. When the player returns to a place they have visited before, the referee should check to see if anyone in town recognizes the player from the description muttered by a dying child. If they do, a lynch mob will form quickly.

Magical Marvels 23: Raggi’s Rejects 3: The Arm of Saint Lawrence

-The Arm of Saint Lawrence-

While not actually the arm of the third century saint, this artifact was once used by a cult devoted to him. The church purged the heretical cult long ago, but this artifact escaped destruction. The arm is covered in the dark red splotches of a burn victim. The skin is well preserved, and held rigid by its original bones. It is filled with a viscous, smelly fluid which makes it appear bloated. The arm is mounted on the end of a four foot iron staff. It is extremely heavy, and if used as a weapon suffers a -2 to hit.

The wielder of the arm can touch people with the hand, and invoke a blessing to the saint. Those who experience this feel a vague, but pleasant, sense of serenity and connection to the divine. With this power, it would not take much effort to begin the cult anew, though the church would frown on such activity.

The staff’s wielder is immune to feelings of pain. They are aware of pain, and can interpret its severity, but they are not inhabilitated by it. They can act normally while their hit points are between 0 and -3. (Though, like any character, once they have reached -3 they will die in 1d10 minutes).

If the staff’s wielder falls below 1 hit point, any damage they take after that is divided evenly between themselves, and everyone they have blessed within the last 24 hours. The effect can occur even mid-damage roll. So, if the staff wielder has 2 hit points, and takes 4 damage, they take the first two damage normally, and are reduced to 0. The remaining two hit points are divided between them and the blessed.

If the damage does not divide evenly between the character and the blessed, determine randomly who takes damage. But keep track. No character should take a 2^nd point of damage until every other has taken a 1^st point.

When the staff’s wielder dies, they and each character they have blessed become powerful revenants with burning hands, which subsist on human ashes.