It has always disappointed me that more players don’t pursue creating their own spells. Encouraging them to do so was the impetus for Magic Words, a system I created back in 2015 and have been using ever since. It remains my most notable mechanical contribution to the OSR. In the past 3 years the system has undergone numerous mutations and tweaks, but the premise remains fundamentally the same: players collect words, combine those words to form the names of spells, and between sessions the referee creates that spell’s description.
I’ve had no reason to doubt the efficacy of that fundamental premise until recently. For the past few months I’ve been playing a magic user in a campaign run by noted OSR Man of Mystery, Chris H. Much of the peculiar way he runs Magic Users is kept intentionally obscured from the players, so I cannot describe it in full, only what my experience has been.
I began play with two spells: one that can trap other spells in a bubble, and another which conjures a suit of bubble armor for a friendly target. I didn’t have any input on creating these spells, or in selecting the “bubble” theme they both conform to. They were presented to me with exhaustively written mechanics, like any spell you might find in a book, with the caveat that they only represented the most reliable way to conjure magic my character had thusfar discovered. Chris encouraged me to tinker, and twist, and see what I could get away with. To apply the general principals of how the spells were constructed to achieve different results.
For example, that bubble armor spell? I’ve used it to seal and apply pressure to a gaping wound. I’ve used it to create a semi-reflective helm to give me 360 degree vision, and a bonus to my perception checks. I’ve used it to form a bubble around our camp which would loudly ‘pop’ if anyone were to approach. All of these were done in the moment without any additional prep. I presume there is some means by which my spell alterations might fail, but again those details are obscured from me as a player.
Fundamentally, Chris and I are trying to achieve the same thing. We’re trying to force magic users to be more creatively involved in their spells. Yet while my Magic Words prompt creativity between adventures, Chris’s method prompts creativity during adventures. As fond as I am of Magic Words, I must confess that the creative focus of Chris’s method is more interesting, and a healthier way to construct a game.
I’d like to experiment with pushing the creative focus of Magic Words towards that same point. Given that this is by necessity a fundamental departure from the original premise it seems only fitting to dub it Magic Words 2.
Magic Users begin play knowing 3 magic words, determined randomly from whatever list is handy. Additional words are learned by encountering them through play, though Magic Users are limited in the number of words they may know at one time: never more than their level + 2.
Magic Users may cast spells a number of times per day equal to their level. They do so by arranging some number of their words (one or more) into a spell name, and describing their desired effects for that spell. The referee will reject any spell out of hand if its effects do not relate to the words used to construct it.
After the player describes their spell, the referee will assign it a failure chance between 1-in-6 and 6-in-6, determined by how powerful they judge the spell to be. At this point the player may either attempt their casting by rolling a d6, or they may negotiate for a more favorable failure chance by reducing the proposed efficacy of their spell.
Note that while it is possible for spells to have a 100% failure chance, it is not possible for a spell to have a 100% chance of success. Such fungible magic is necessarily volatile.
If a spell fails, the referee will adjudicate some appropriate backfire. A failed fireball may appear in the wrong location, or it may be at the right location but produce only a few sparks, or it may encase the caster in a pyramid of ice. A failed spell may be devastating, however, it does not consume any of the Magic User’s daily spellcasting. If the MU is able to cast 3 more spells today, and produces a spell failure, they may still cast 3 more spells.
ANALYSIS:
If I want to push myself towards more in-the-moment spell creativity, this is the obvious way to do it. Obviousness isn’t a virtue, but if this doesn’t work then at least I’ve gotten the obvious option out of my head to make room for less obvious ideas.
Players have always chaffed at the fact that Magic Words doesn’t give them a say in what their spell’s description will be. I’ve never wanted to give them a say, because it leads to an inevitable back-and-forth negotiation that I have preferred to avoid for the sake of the referee’s time. The codified negotiation presented above should give players what they’ve always wanted without placing undue burden on the referee. In fact, this system removes a great deal of the work the original method required from the ref.
My worry is that this method will be too free form. It will be difficult for me to walk the line between allowing my players to cast spells which are too powerful, and being too harsh with my failure chances.
The only way I can think of to mitigate this is to introduce some guidelines. As I understand it, the game “Ars Magica” does something like this. I’ve not read the system myself, but it sounds more complicated than I’d want to use for an OSR style game. My goal is always to create mechanics the referee can easily memorize.
I do want to give this idea a fair shake at the table, but my gut says this isn’t the kind of idea I’ll want to play with for very long. We will have to see.
I love the Magic Word system. It is my finest contribution to the gaming world: elegantly simple caster magic that encourages creativity, and removes the need for cumbersome spell lists. I don’t know if anyone aside from me is actually using it, but I just can’t imagine going back to running spells any other way. Magic Words feels so natural to me at this point.
Another thing that I love are crazy magical laboratories filled with curios, oddments, and the inexpiable paraphernalia of the magician’s craft. Furthermore, the way LotFP handles magic laboratories is one of the best changes Raggi made to the base B/X formula. It’s simple, it’s elegant…and Magic Words broke it.
For those unfamiliar, I’ll summarize. In LotFP, magic labs are measured by monetary value. So if you find a tome of magic theory worth 100sp, and you put it in your lab, then it adds 100sp to your lab. Labs are required for “Magical Activity,” and the value of the lab is a major factor in determining how difficult such activity is.
But I don’t really use scrolls, and I don’t allow players to transcribe spells. Potions are produced using the Alchemy skill. I’ve rewritten how wands work. I’ve also rewritten how staves work. And, of course, creating new spells is trivial, since that’s kinda the whole goshdang point of using Magic Words in the first place. That list encompasses the whole of what RAW LotFP calls “Magical Activity.” So, as I said, I’ve broken LotFP’s magic labs in basically every way.
Which means that the Magic Words system needs its own method for using magic labs, drawing on the core concept of LotFP’s system.
Magical Libraries and Laboratories for Magic Words
A magician’s laboratory is where they store objects for study. Tomes of forbidden knowledge, mystical objects of unknowable purpose, the corpses of demons ready for dissection; such things can provide insight into new realities as yet unknown.
Laboratories are ranked according to their value, which is measured in two ways. First there is Total Value, which measures everything in the lab taken together. Second, there is Unused Value, which measures the the objects which the magic user can still learn from.
For storage, every 500 silver pieces worth of lab value requires 10′ of square space to store. Objects that are appropriate for a magical lab must be discovered through play. If sold, lab items are worth 1/2 their value on the open market.
Unused Value can be spent in place of the time normally required to craft a new spell. It costs 500 sp of unused magical laboratory value to combine words into a new spell, which the referee will present at the next session as usual. Though, if the Magic User decides to go on a spending spree and produce a dozen new spells in a single session, the referee is well within their rights to say they’ll deliver the new spells in installments. A player expecting more than two or three new spells a week is being excessive.
This is a useful change for two reasons. First, my intent was for the player to be able to make a new spell pretty much every game session. But in practice, my players often end In Media Res three, four, or even five times in a row. I can’t reasonably allow the Magic User to craft a new spell while they’re in the middle of a combat, and as a result, Magic Users get frustrated. They wind up with ever-lengthening queues of spells they’re waiting to craft. That’s not inherently a bad thing, but it can reach a point of excess. Hopefully, this will alleviate that.
Second, this will allow higher level magic users to spend a little more time pursuing goals other than crafting new spells. Stuff like training skills, or casting longer ritual spells. They can diversify their interests a little bit without feeling like they’re wasting time that would be better spent on their wizard duties.
Once unused value is spent it’s subtracted from the unused value. However, it remains in the Total Value.
The Total Value of a magic user’s lab is a measure of cosmic prestige. Magicians hoard the mystic oddments they discover, show them off to their friends, and brag about them to their enemies. The acquisition and display of magical novelties is the primary social lubricant of the wizardly caste.
A wizard who is high level, but lacks a princely collection of curios, will be looked down upon. They’re like a wealthy merchant without a noble pedigree. A creature to be dismissed in public, and only dealt with in dark rooms where no one can see your shame. On the inverse, a wizard of low level with an excessive wealth of curios is likely to be robbed and murdered in a trounce.
And wizards are not the only folks who take notice of fine collections of magica obscura. There are things which move beside us. Things for whom most of us are beneath notice. But a fine magical collection may draw their attention for a time. Players should track the Total Value of their labs according to the Specialist’s experience table. Each time their lab “levels up,” it has drawn the attention of a thing beyond the experience of mortal things. Roll 1d20 to determine what creature is drawn forth from the dark beyond:
Sandestine – Incorporeal creatures of impossible swiftness. Only their faint outlines are visible to humans, and they do not require any sustenance or sleep, though they do feel boredom acutely. Sandestines are keen observers, highly valued as spies or sentries.
Some insignificant bauble from the laboratory has caught their eye, and seems infinitely important to them. In exchange for 1d6 money worth of the lab’s Total Value, the Sandestine will bind itself to perform a single task for the magic user. Sandestines are notably poor negotiators, so the blank check of “a single task,” may be abused by clever magic users. Though there is nothing quite so unreliable as a bored Sandestine.
Ajuaba – A creature of spheres, lights, and wafting silks. It has come to the wizard because it has a problem it believes the wizard can help with. The Ajuaba knows too much. It knows everything there is to know in the cosmos, so long as that thing is not a closely protected secret. The excess of knowledge weighs heavily upon the creature’s mind. It will plead of the Wizard: ask it a question. Once it has shared what it knows, it can finally forget, and its burdens will be slightly eased.
If the wizard offers to take yet more knowledge off the Ajuaba’s brain, it will melodramatically respond that it could never place such a burden on anyone. The small relief the Wizard offered was all it could ask of anyone. It is adamant on this point, believing that each tiny bit of knowledge is painful to bear, and that any demonstration to the contrary is merely bravado.
Carcabat – A slimy thing, which sees through a galaxy of lights that orbit its body. They are the fishermen of the unseen ether of the cosmos. The wizardly crafting of wands appears like clumsy child’s play to them. With exasperated patience, they will offer to show how the deed ought to be done.
Standing behind the wizard, they will offer instructions that make no sense, while guiding the wizard’s hands through rituals too complex to remember. The wizard may immediately create a new wand using only a single hit point, and they may roll on the table 3 times, selecting which of the 3 they roll they would like to keep.
Elapera – A narrow thing, which somehow gives the impression of an imperiously perfect posture, without having any recognizable anatomy. Its initial interest in the laboratory will quickly turn to scorn once it notices the drab state of the magic user’s spells. It will ask the magic user to show it their favorite spell. When they do, they will declare the thing to be entirely inadequate, and insist that the magic user do the work over again under their guidance. For the cost of 1,500 unused lab value (which remains in total lab value, as normal), the magic user may re-create a spell they have already created. The new version of the spell will be significantly improved over the original, in a manner determined by the referee. Upon completion, the Elapera will declare the work “almost adequate,” and congratulate the magic user on rising above the simplistic capabilities of their species, if only in the smallest degree.
Panciu – A thought creature which travels the cosmos from mind to mind. It is impressed with the wizard’s laboratory, and offers to show them a bit of long forgotten lore in exchange for the pleasure of a tour. Panciu know the traditional spells of D&D! Roll 1d10 to determine the spell level, then randomly determine one of the spells from that level. If you roll a 10 while determining the level, then you must switch to a different spell list and roll again. (If you don’t have a different spell list, just keep re-rolling until you get a 1-9).
The referee should then re-write the spell to be levelless. The magic user also learns any magic words that can be taken from the spell.
Silchar – A creature of sensual delight, with 4 long tentacular tongues, eight eyes, three cavernous nostrils, six genitalia (one of each type), and numerous other sensory organs. It would very much like to taste such a refined magic user as it now sees. If allowed, it will enshroud the lab’s owner in its many tongues, enjoying every subtle nuance of their taste. Once it has thoroughly tasted, it will depart gratefully. So long as the MU does not wash themselves with any great thoroughness, the licking will leave a film of fortune over their body. The next time they are required to make a saving throw, it will automatically be successful.
Mukdahan – Fleshy platonic solids which are baffled & fascinated by the variety of human appearance. After a tour of the fascinating laboratory, they will ask the Wizard if they may take their body, to put it on display in one of their galleries. In exchange, the they will provide the wizard with a new body of their choice. The Wizard may opt for anything they like: a new gender, a new age, a new ethnicity, etc. They can also roll new physical stats (STR, CON, DEX), as well as add 1d4 -2 to their Charisma.
Odrelos – A thing which can only be described as “visible wind,” blows into the wizard’s laboratory, rapidly forming itself into words and letters to communicate. It has a moment of business in this realm, for which it will need some local currency. In exchange for 5,000 money, it will reveal a secret. Any secret–for it knows them all. So long as a bit of knowledge is held within only 0-16 minds, an Odrelos will know it as well.
Aromtap – Creatures who move through time the same way you or I might move through rooms of a building. It will take the magic user, along with any companions they wish to bring, to a time & place of their choosing. Each character who goes on this trip must pay for it with 1 year of their life per day they wish to spend in this other time and place. When they are returned, they will rapidly age.
Balamgg – A catalogist who has carefully noted the location of several Wizard Staves. In exchange for 1/4th the money required to reach the magic user’s current level, it will retrieve one of those staves at random, and deliver it to the magic user. Once it has the money it will simply burn it. The currency itself has no meaning to the creature, its true payment was the act of extracting value from the magic user.
Toynnin – Feeds upon ill fortune. The creature will excite the mind of the magic user, allowing them to instantaneously create 1 new spell for every -2 taken to a future saving throw. The magic user may use all of their penalties at once, or spread them out over multiple saves, but they must take at least a -1 on each saving throw until their debt is paid.
Valachk – A grinning thing which punctuates too many of its sentences with a humorless chuckle. Not because it is a menace, (though it is), but because it sincerely believes doing so will put humans at ease. Valachk know nothing of what has happened, only what will happen. From a human perspective this may seem an impossible way to live, but the Valachk do just fine. They would like to Rent half of the magic user’s maximum hit points. They won’t say what they’ll do with it, but they promise to return them unharmed and whole. In exchange, they will tell the magic user of one future event. This future event is not described at the table. Instead, the magic user moves forward with this nebulous knowledge. At any point, the player of the magic user may announce “This is the event the Valachk told me about.” The game’s time will then rewind some appropriate amount, so that the magic user can relive the event with appropriate foreknowledge.
After they’ve re-lived the event, their hit points will be returned to them, as promised.
Gader’el – The Gader’el isn’t terribly interested in the Magic User’s collection, but the existence of said collection has made it think the MU may be suited to its needs. It requires a body, with a mind capable of holding spells. It guarantees to return the body without any permanent damage, and in exchange it will use any spare moments it has to teach the body how to perform a few of the tasks that the Gader’el is familiar with. If the magic user agrees, their mind is instantly transported to a dark void. It is terrifying, to be a displaced mind. Fortunately, it also passes as swiftly as sleep. When the Magic User awakes from their nightmare, the Gader’el will already be gone. The MU’s body is injured. They’ve only got 1d4 hit points, with at least one serious injury that will take time to heal. However, they will also discover that 1d3 randomly determined skills have been improved by 1 step.
Jikinburchk – An exhuberant creature which delights and marvels at the Wizard’s collection, almost to excess. In thanks for putting together this fabulous collection, the Jikinburchk will offer to put on the most sumptuous, sensual, hedonistic party imaginable. Anyone invited to this party will have a phenomenal time, and it will reset the Magic User’s reputation within a community to “generally positive.” Even if the Magic User had previously earned themselves a reputation for stealing babies to sacrifice in their magical rituals, all will be forgotten in the haze of good times.
Lempema – A creature which roams the past, but cannot imagine the future. They are the unwitting cousins of the Valachk: anatomically similar, but neither can even conceive of the other. In exchange for being given permission to peruse your personal history at their leisure, they will erase a single past event for the magic user.
The erased event should be direct: preventing the death of a single person, undoing a theft perpetrated against the magic user, or perhaps an encounter with ghouls which resulted in a lost experience level. The referee is also entitled to impose consequences for erased events: if Robert had never died, would the party have ever met David? If the party never encountered those ghouls, they wouldn’t have the magic ring that one of them wore. There is no need to think about this too hard, and indeed, it works best if the referee is somewhat lenient here. This is, after all, supposed to be a boon.
If the Wizard agrees to this bargain, they will often find the Lempema within their memories, standing in the background observing what’s going on.
Uzuzuz – One of many creatures which might be called. “Grim Reapers” by mortals. Uzuzuz knows the location of all the dead, and will bring one of them to speak with you. Uzuzuz will provide translation, and allow you to speak with this person for as long as you are able to continue speaking.
In exchange, all Uzuzuz asks is that he be the one to guide your soul into the beyond when you eventually die.
Hyuteir – Speakers of spells. Every word in the language is a spell word. When wizards cast their magics, they are speaking in the language of the Hyuteir. This one is willing to reveal any one spell word that the Magic User desires. In exchange, the first spell the Magic User makes with this word belongs to the Hyuteir who gave it to them. The MU may never use it themselves. The Hyuteir find the ways in which smaller creatures use their language amusing, and many have become collectors of spells. Exclusivity is highly prized among their spell collecting connoisseurs.
K’ksht – A creature which enjoys a good mortal brawl. In exchange for 1 point of the magic user’s Strength, it will slice off a part of itself appropriate to the magic user’s needs. This part will form into a creature that stands 5′ tall, +6″ per level of the MU. It has the abilities of a fighter the same level as the MU, but with a d12 hit die, instead of a d8. It gets two d6 claw attacks each round (upgraded to d8 at level 5, and d10 at level 10), and an armor rating of 12. It is eager to fight to the death, and will never retreat to preserve its life. If the magic user orders it to stop attacking because they wish to parley, the slice of the K’ksht will obey. If they merely wish to flee, the K’ksht will stay behind and finish the battle. If they survive, they will rejoin the Magic User later.
Grue – A thing which lives in the dark. Hungry. Is looking for someone to eat. As payment for not eating you, you must tell it someone else for it to eat. The MU may choose anyone who has at least some chance of being in the dark at some point. (Things that glow are immune). The Grue has a 3-in-6 chance of eating that person within the next month, removing them from play forever. The referee may modify the chance up or down by 1, if they think the person is particularly capable, or incapable of dealing with a Grue. But that’s it. Even your biggest baddest dude has a 2-in-6 chance of being eaten by the Grue.
Nulapuv – A benevolent creature, who would like nothing more than a tour of this fine magical laboratory. In exchange for an enjoyable evening, it will grant one Wish to the Magic User.
The Glory from God system as established before now stands perfectly well on its own. If the stuff that already exists is all you want to play with, that works great. But, if you’d like the magic to be a little more chaotic, you can play with these casting oddities, which add an element of risk and reward to players considering rolling more dice than they need to in order to cast a spell.
When dice are rolled to cast a spell, if any of those dice share the same face, the player must roll on the oddities table. Which number is showing doubles determines which of the tables below the player must roll on. Each set of doubles must be resolved, so if a player rolls 4 dice, and they roll two 3s and two 4s, then they must roll on both of those tables.
In the event that the player rolls triples, treat that as rolling two sets of doubles of the same number. So if a player rolls three 1s, they must roll on the 1s oddities table twice. They must likewise roll three times for quads, four times for a quintet, and so on.
There are essentially three types of oddities. Good things, bad things, and things which may be good, bad, or irrelevant depending on the specific situation in which they occur. The subtables for lower numbered doubles are weighted more in favor of bad things, and the subtables for higher numbered doubles are weighted in favor of good things.
It should be noted that the success or failure of a spell is determined before any dice are rolled on the oddities table. Nothing that happens on the oddities table can change the fact that the spell did or did not succeed. (Though it can lower or improve the spell’s efficacy if the spell did succeed).
Snake Eyes (Double 1s)
You have made a deeply offensive error in your casting. Your god curses you. Roll a random curse.
Your interference in this matter has come to the attention of a rival god. Your deity and this one are now struggling for influence over this place, and clerical magic from either one of them will be blocked until the contest is resolved. (1-in-6 chance each round. 50/50 chance whose god will win.)
Though it may not be immediately apparent to the caster, their religious superior (currently deep in prayer) has been told by god that the cleric is a disappointment. In the coming weeks they will be called before this superior, and it will be demanded that some failing in their character be corrected.
The caster briefly experiences a nirvana-like state in which they cease to exist. To others, it appears that they simply disappear. They reapper 1d4 rounds later, with no memory of what they experienced, save for a vague sense that they ultimately proved unworthy of some great gift.
The caster’s appearance changes slightly, and permanently. Their nose gets a little wider, their hair changes color. They grow taller or shorter, thinner or fatter. In rare cases they may even change gender entirely. The specific alteration is decided on by the referee.
A special zeal was noticed in your casting. The spell goes off as normal, and is 50% more effective than it ought to be.
Double 2s
Your faith is shaken. Treat this spell as though it were one level higher for the purposes of determining which spell dice are lost.
The caster realizes they have made an error, and must seek penance. (1. They must go without food for a week, suffering any penalties that entails. 2. They must self-flaggelate, dealing 1d3 damage, each morning for a week. 3. They must publicly announce their sin to their companions. All of their hirelings have their loyalty reduced by one. 4. They must spend one entire haven turn in prayer, undertaking no other activity. )
The caster has been deceived! The prayer they just uttered was taught them by a demon, and is deeply offensive to god. They may not attempt to cast this spell again until they’ve spent a week in prayer learning the proper version of it.
Everyone in a 30′ radius feels their hands twitch and spasm, and they drop anything they’re holding.
All animals within 100′ of the caster stop whatever they’re doing and kneel down in reverence to the god whose presence they are in. They will accept no commands until a turn has passed.
A nearby NPC who is neutrally or better disposed towards you is inspired by your faith. Your reaction with them increases by 1, and they want to learn about your god.
Double 3s
The white hot fire of your god exceeds your own zeal. Your holy symbol becomes too hot to touch. You must either drop the holy symbol (and cannot cast until you recover it) or take 1d4 damage.
The vulgar nature of your god has disgusted some NPC. Their reaction to you is lowered by one.
A nearby source of water becomes holy water.
Nearby plants flourish and grow into their most vibrant selves, or wither and die, whichever is more appropriate to indicate your god’s presence.
Your god grants you a moment of foresight. You’re meant to step slightly to one side. Next round you have +2 AC, and if you are hit, the damage taken is halved.
Guided by the wisdom of a saint, a random skill is raised to 6-in-6 until it is next used.
Double 4s
You are struck blind for 1d6 turns.
The caster begins speaking in tongues. They babble nonsense that occasionally brushes with religious themes at the top of their voice for the next hour, and cannot say anything else. This doesn’t prevent them from casting spells.
Everything the caster says echoes loudly, as if they are speaking with a dozen voices at once. This lasts for 1d4 hours. During this time they are incapable of whispering.
The cleric’s body appears to catch fire, but no harm is done to them. The fire is not hot and does not burn anything, but provides light equivalent to a large bonfire. The fire slowly dwindles to nothing over the course of 1 exploration turn.
If the spell cast was beneficial, the wearer gains the mark of the god. Anyone who loves the cleric’s god will do that person favors for 1 month. Conversely, if the spell was harmful, the target gains the mark of the god inverted. Anyone who loves the god will shun this person, and pelt them with stones, for 1 month.
A soft veil of light descends over the cleric’s allies. They all get a +1 benefit to whatever their next roll is.
Double 5s
The power of the spell knocks you off of your feet and you land flat on your back.
The target of a beneficial spell becomes notably more attractive. The target of a harmful spell becomes notably less attractive.
The earth shakes with the casting of the spell, felt by people up to a mile away.
Along with the spell, a bolt of lightning strikes down from the sky dealing 1d6 damage to whomever the caster wants. They are branded with some appropriate passage from the god’s holy words.
The cleric is affected by the serenity of being so close to their god. Their next reaction roll gets a +1 bonus.
Your faith is strengthened. Return a lost die to your pool, or add an extra one for the day if one has not yet been expended.
Boxcars (Double 6s)
A lack of zeal has been noticed in your casting. The spell works as intended, but is only half as effective as it ought to be.
All damage taken and dealt by anyone this round is halved.
A flash of insight allows the cleric to ask the referee one yes-or-no question, and receive an honest answer. This must be done immediately, and cannot be saved for later.
An angel of god comes down and participates in the combat for a single round. They’re astonishingly effective. No one sees it except the cleric, everyone else is just a little baffled as to why something completely unexpected just happened.
The spell is considered one level lower for the purpose of determining which dice are removed from the dice pool.
The spell goes off twice, affecting the intended target, as well as a second target indicated by the caster.
And that concludes my foray into tinkering with Clerical magic. At least until I’m able to test the system a bit, or have some new idea. I hope you enjoyed it! Next week, I’ll be presenting you with a piece I am immensely proud of: Better Magic Wands + d100 Magic Wands. This is easily one of the best things I’ve written in the last couple months, and I cannot wait to share it. If you’re interested, it’s already available on my advance feed for anyone who pledges $5/month to my Patreon campaign. Hint hint.
Note:This post is presented to you by the generous people who support my Patreon campaign. Normally I only update once a week, but thanks to your pledges, I’ll now be able to throw in one extra update each month. If my pledges keep going higher, I’ll eventually be able to move to a full two-posts-per-week schedule! So if that’s something you’d like to see, check out my Patreon! We now return to your regularly scheduled bonus P&P article:
The goal is to make cleric magic weirder. To create a better counterpart to the Magic Words system used by Magic Users in my games.
I’m going to be playtesting this system in my ORWA campaign, where I have one cleric who is playing a techno priest. (Unfortunately, this player had real life obligations, and had to leave the game after only three sessions. But I wrote all of this before that happened, sooo….) Given that, it only makes sense to write up The Past Gods, who are worshiped by that sect. They’re not a very traditional deity, given that they’re sort of a pantheon of nameless entities that are worshiped as a single deific force. But if the system can’t handle weird, then it’s not a very good system.
The Past Gods
Domains
Technology
Engineering
Lost Knowledge
Mythology
The past gods were the normal men and women of an advanced age now past. They gave us all of the many technological wonders humanity once enjoyed, and which humanity lost when it descended into a sinful, ignorant subrace. The past gods still hope that we can return from our fall, and so they bless us with samples of the technological wonders that will await us if we follow them.
Laws / Taboos:
Technology should be acquired and preserved. Even broken technology is sacred. In other circumstances, property should be respected. However, all technology belongs to The Past Gods, and so taking it in their name is not theft.
Technology should be understood through The Technology Support Rituals. To try and understand technology on one’s own merit is to presume equality with the humans of old, and this is an insult to The Past Gods. (This is a stricture of the church, and not one imposed by the gods themselves.)
Spells (All 1st level) For the purposes of all spells here, “Technology” refers only to devices which are now beyond common human understanding in the setting. So a flashlight, a gun, or a cellphone would be considered technology, but a spade or a crossbow would not.
Abjuration (1 round casting time)
“And the biting current was altered, and brought to rest in the right place.”
The next time the targeted character would suffer electrical damage, that damage is grounded and does them no harm. The effect lasts for 2 exploration turns per caster level, or until it has been expended.
“For mechanisms work only by the will of the Past Gods, and not against their servants.”
The target becomes completely incapable of activating mechanical devices, either intentionally or not. This includes tripwires and pressure plates which might cause a trap to be sprung on them. Similarly they cannot open a lock or fire a gun, as these are also mechanisms. The effect lasts for 2 combat rounds per caster level.
Command (1 round casting time)
“Cease your function, blessed tool. You are in the hands of the enemy.”
An indicated piece of technology within 30′ of the caster ceases to function. It cannot be repaired for 2 exploration turns per caster level.
“The hooting screech, guardian of the net’s bounty.”
To cast this spell the caster opens their mouth, and from their body comes an inhuman sound. A series of high pitched screeches, mixed simultaneously with beeps and white noise. The sound is so cacophonous that nothing requiring sound can function within a 30′ radius of the caster. No speech, nor any spell casting either. This effect also blocks any special effects that use sound to function, such as Hideous Laughter. The spell lasts for up to 1 round per caster level, though the caster must maintain the spell with their full attention if they wish for it to last longer than a single round, and thus cannot take further actions.
Blessing (1 exploration turn casting time)
“For the sinful man, answers remain always elusive.”
This curse prevents the target from discovering some specific piece of information by any means. Even if it is directly told to them, it will fall immediately out of their heads like the name of the 99th person you’re introduced to at a party. Even if they try to exert all of their effort to paying attention when they are told this information, they simply cannot learn it.
The spell is cast on some written example of the forbidden information. The first person to read the ensorcled text will become the spell’s target, and they will remain subject to it until Remove Curse is cast.
“She did rise, as though held aloft by a rotor of blades.”
With the cacophonous sound of helicopter blades, the target of the spell rises into the air. There are no physical rotors, merely the sound of them. The beneficiary of the spell can travel in any direction at a rate of 30′ per round, up to 100′ in the air. The effect lasts for 2 exploration turns per caster level.
Divination (1 exploration turn casting time)
“You will know them by their form and by their function, for they are blessed.”
So long as the caster does not move from their spot, they gain a sort of technology-detecting vision. They may turn round if they wish, but cannot take any steps away from where they are when the spell is cast. Any technology that falls within their field of view will glow a slight shade of red. The caster is also able to determine the function and condition of the technology from the shade and vibration of this red aura. This doesn’t aide so much in diagnosing what needs to be repaired about a broken piece, but does allow for quick determination of what is working and what is not.
“Of my companion I did ask: call my phone, so that its location shall be revealed unto me.”
When cast, the caster identifies a piece of technology. It must be a general type, rather than a specific item. “An xPhone Universe 6SS” is an acceptable identification. “My cell phone,” is not.
The caster then knows the precise location of the closest instance of the described device. So long as the caster does not move a muscle, they can track any movement of the device. Once the caster moves, the effect ends.
Prayer (1 watch casting time)
“Though beset by magnets, the machine did boot.”
The cleric can order any broken machine to work for 1 turn per caster level. The caster does not control the machine, nor does the machine necessarily have access to its full range of functions that might require additional working bits. (Guns may be forced to work, but they will not produce bullets. Computers may be forced to boot, but they will not necessarily be able to display the data you wanted.)
“That which transpires here must stay here for all time”
The cleric consecrates an area of a 30′ radius, which lasts for 1 day per caster level. Everything that transpires within this space will be forgotten by those within it when they leave. Even the caster will have no recollection of what they said or did while within the consecrated space.
Ritual (1 haven turn casting time)
“From the gods’ mind, creatures were given life who held no form.”
This ritual requires that the caster have access to a computational device, such as a computer, or cell phone. It also requires 300 credits of computational resources.
When the spell is complete, the caster will have created an artificial intelligence. This new AI is an NPC like any other, with its own will, personality, and traits. It is able to move throughout computer systems with greater flexibility and understanding than even the most adept human user could achieve.
In thanks for giving birth to it, the AI will perform any 3 tasks the cleric asks of it without question. After this, it considers its debt to be paid, and will not accept commands from the cleric any longer. However, unless it has been made to act contrary to its personality, the AI will remain friendly with the caster, and may be willing to provide favors or services like any other friendly NPC would.
“Man and machine became one when man first came to rely upon shelter and fire. We now take one further step on that most ancient of paths.”
This ritual requires the cleric to have access to a piece of technology that currently works, as well as a willing subject. The cleric can perform the ritual on themselves if they wish.
The working technology is merged into the character’s body in whatever way the caster describes. The device now draws energy directly from the person’s body, and no longer requires batteries or any other power source. Further, the subject is now able to use the technology via thought. Depending on where the technology is placed, its function may be limited as logic would dictate.
If the merged technology is a gun, ammunition is still required as normal.
In exploring the Glory from God system, we’ve outlined spellcasting, and discussed spell creation. Now we’ve got to talk about the stars of the show: the gods themselves. Since their individual flavor is so important to spell creation, we need an effective means of creating, recording, and communicating that flavor. We need a divine character sheet.
What we don’t need is any numbers. Whether or not the god is killable is immaterial*. The only purpose we’re concerned with here is preparing a creative aide for divine spell creation. If the referee is making a 1st level abjuration spell, what form will that spell take? Will the god bestow their protection by raising a wall of earth? Or will they temporarily turn the target incorporeal? Or will they place a shimmering shield of light that deflects attacks? These three spells could have dramatically different impacts on the game. So how do we decide which one to use?
I’m going to provide tables in this post, because it feels like a meatier contribution, and I like writing tables. But they’re just here if you need them. If you’d rather come up with this shit on your own, more power to you. It’s probably what I would do.
*Though, in point of fact, killable gods are awesome. I’m fully in support of the idea that most gods are terrestrial creatures. Perhaps they are beyond any means of death we understand, that’s part of what makes them divine. But there is some way to end their existence.
Domains
Domains are the most simplistic abstraction of a god. They are a single idea, often expressed with a single word, which indicate the god’s sphere of influence. When we say that Ares was the god of War, or that Eros was the god of Sex, we are referring to these god’s domains.
Each god should have between 1 and 3 domains. This is not a hard limit, and gods may have as many or as few domains as you wish. But, too many domains can create an unfocused divinity. If the goal here is to gain a strong sense of the god’s style, then it’s best to keep the list short.
If you want to keep the system light, domains could be the only thing on a divine character sheet. It provides plenty of information on its own, and you’d probably be able to use it to generate spells without too much difficulty.
d20 Domains (Even)
Life
Death
Knowledge
War
Wisdom
Love
Trickery
Lies
Pain
Light
Darkness
Stone
Agriculture
Winter
Summer
Sex
Leadership
Wealth
Forgiveness
Vengeance
D20 Domains (Odd)
Nature
Civilization
Craftspeople
Fear
Snakes
Bears
Birds
Sailors
Fire
Earth
Wind
Water
Mathematics
Strength
Competition
Law
Chaos
Neutrality
Armageddon
Revelry
Mythology
If you’re interested in adding a little more texture to your god than a sampling of individual words can offer, myths are a good second step. A myth is the god’s own story. It doesn’t need to be a fleshed out narrative–in fact if it is, I’d say you’re probably over-thinking things. Each myth should be a single sentence, maybe two.
There are three kinds of myths: Myths of Birth detail how the god came to exist. Myths of Events tell a short story that takes place in the past. Something which the god did, or something which happened to the god. Myths of Occupation refer to an ongoing phenomenon which the deity claims responsibility for.
No doubt a hundred deities claim responsibility for pulling the sun across the sky each day, this need not be a problem. Each could be a single aspect of the same deity. Perhaps all of the deities are lying, simply making grandiose claims to followers who don’t know any better. Or, it could be human error! 1,000 years ago some high priest of Yubbles the Sky Bear got into an argument with a cleric of Zandar the Memeist about whose god was better. Both of them started making shit up, and the gods aren’t petty enough to bother with correcting their misled followers.
Myths of Birth
The god was born of a deity and (1. Another Deity, 2. A Mortal, 3. An Animal, 4. A Mythical Creature, 5. A Natural Object, 6. A Crafted Object.)
The god was once mortal, and earned their divinity.
The god emerged fully formed from (1. A Mountain/The Earth, 2. The Sea, 3. A Great Fire, 4. Another God, 5. The Sky, 6. A Tree)
The god was created by another god by some means other than standard reproduction. Perhaps in a forge, or by weaving, or glass blowing, or pooping.
The god emerged in response to some phenomena, such as the fury of a battle, or the fear of a refugee people.
The god has always existed. There is nothing before them.
Myths of Events
The god played some role in creating humans, or helping them advance.
The god created some well known animal or monster.
The god created some well known object with an unknown origin.
The god was betrayed by a friend or servant.
The god fought a great battle, and won, lost, or reached a stalemate.
The god is the first to invent some artistic medium.
The god is responsible for giving some order to the universe which did not previously exist -or- for removing order which once did exist.
The god founded a kingdom.
The god held a great revelry.
The god established some important ritual. Like lunch. Lunch is an important ritual.
Myths of Occupation
The god is responsible for something that happens constantly, like the passage of time, or the the air we breathe, or the flowing of water.
The god is responsible for something that happens often, like the rising of the sun or moon, the coming of the tides, or the changing of the weather.
The god is responsible for something that happens on a slow timescale, such as the changing of the seasons, or the movements of the heavens.
The god is responsible for something that happens rarely, but unexpectedly. Like natural disasters, economic collapse, or invasion by a foreign enemy.
The god is responsible for something that happens naturally, but on no fixed schedule, like birth or death, artistic inspiration, or the coming of the tax collector.
The god is responsible for maintaining something that happened long ago, such as giving humans free will. Alternatively, the god is responsible for something that has not yet happened, but which will happen, such as the end of the world.
Laws, Proscriptions/Taboos
Most gods come with associated rules they expect you to follow. It’s a bummer, but hey, it’s a small price to pay for not getting smote, amirite?
I don’t imagine rules would have any particular impact on spell creation, but they would go some way towards making a god feel a little more real if they were enforced on clerics of that god. Like domains, I’d recommend between 1 and 3 to keep things simple and manageable.
The real key is to make rules which don’t affect the rest of the party. It’s better for a rule to be completely trivial than for it to become a hindrance for the party members who decided against rolling clerics.
Cannot wear any knots in their clothing, including wrapping knotted rope around themselves.
Must always spend some amount of money on sacrifices.
Cannot initiate combat against someone who has done them no harm.
Must always spend some amount of money helping the poor or improving the community.
Cannot engage in any sexual relationship.
Must always offer comfort to any who seek it, even those who have wronged them deeply.
Cannot be seen naked by anyone.
Must always defer to others in non-religious matters.
Cannot speak their own god’s name.
Must always remember to attribute all good things to their god.
Cannot witness devotions being paid to any other god.
Must always spend time praying on a frequent periodic schedule.
Cannot tell a lie.
Must always lie.
Cannot look upon or touch a dead body.
Must always perform specific funeral rites.
Cannot eat any but a specific sort of food.
Must always keep themselves clean, and wearing well maintained clothing.
Cannot bathe.
Must always announce when they fart–with neither pride nor shame.
Spells
Spells shouldn’t be recorded in advance, they are created one by one as the cleric prays for them. But these spells are not simply the gifts bestowed on a single cleric, they are the god’s repertoire of miracles. If ever another cleric chooses to worship this god and prays for a spell, there is an 80% chance they will learn a spell from the god’s already-existing repertoire. Otherwise the spell will be created as normal.
Evolution through Play
What I’d really like to emphasize about divine magic in my games is that there’s a second party involved in casting. An NPC that happens to be divine. Clerical magic isn’t like wizard magic, where the caster is manipulating the fabric of reality through the sheer power of their art. Clerical magic is done by drawing upon a personal relationship with an NPC. By petitioning that NPC for favors.
Clerics are not free agents, vaguely attached to an alignment. They have willingly subjugated themselves to a higher authority. In a sense, the cleric is a slave. A very high status slave whose master is beyond earthly concerns, but a slave none the less.
Given that, it is only natural that the god will grow and develop through play the way any other NPC does. Each time some new interesting facet of the god is discovered through play, it can be added to the character sheet, and later be drawn upon when creating new spells.
Next week, we’ll explore the divine character sheet by writing up a sample, complete with a few spells. If you enjoyed this post, consider checking out my Patreon campaign, and helping me produce more posts like it!
In The Glory from God system, the referee takes on the role of the cleric’s god, and creates all of their spells for them. Because of the time required for prayer and meditation before a new spell is granted, only one spell per cleric will ever need to be created per game session. Creating a single new clerical spell in this timeframe should not, I think, overly strain the referee’s creative abilities. My own experience with the Magic Word system has shown that creating a new spell is generally the easiest aspect of session prep for me.
However, Glory from God lack one of the great strengths of the Magic Word system: limitations. Limitless creativity is a paralyzing curse. If your player comes to you and says “I want to create the spell Pummeling Spiders,” it’s easy to come up with some rules for how that spell works. If your player comes to you and simply says “I need a new spell,” then the sheer ocean of possibilities can cause the process to be a great deal more difficult. So we need some limitations. Not “rules,” per se, because if you ever feel like ignoring these limitations for some reason, then go for it. But we do need guidelines to light a clear path forward when a new spell is needed.
First, determine the spell’s level by rolling 1d6. Remember that even the most powerful spell can be cast by a 1st level cleric, so the spell level is not a gauge on how high level the player must be before they gain access to the spell. It is merely an estimate of how often the cleric will be able to use a spell each day, before they start losing spell dice.
If you’re making a 6th level spell, then you’re making a big blowout spell that the player will only be able to use a handful of times. If you’re making a 1st level spell, then they’ll probably be able to cast it a ton. Spells of 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and 5th level are just gradations on this scale.
When it comes to the actual content of the spell, there are two big guidelines to consider. The first is the cleric’s god; the divine entity that is ostensibly the one actually creating the spell. What is that god’s style? Their domains, their mythology, their will? The characteristics of the deity should provide the referee with a good sense of what sort of spells that god would grant to their clerics.
This begs the question: what should we know about a god before they’re ready to be used in play? The answer to that is beyond the scope of this post. Next week, I’ll go into some detail on what all we should know about a god. For now, just imagine we’re working with a god who is already familiar to you. Someone like Zues, Thor, or Vecna.
The second guideline is the magical school of the spell. There are six schools, and the referee is encouraged to determine which one they will use randomly. The schools are Abjurations, Commands, Blessings, Divinations, Prayers, and Rituals. Each school is tied to one of the four abstracted units of game time, which is how long the spell will take to cast. So only the first two types of spells could be cast while in combat, while the other four types each require a significant period of calm in order to work.
Abjuration – A Combat Round: Abjurations are protective magics, and are always cast preventatively rather than restoratively. They usually have either a very limited duration, or a very limited scope. For example, one abjuration might be used to protect the target from all damage for 1 round. Another abjuration might protect the target from a total of 1d8+1 incoming damage, and remain in effect until that damage has been taken.
Clerics cannot reverse spells of their own volition, but their god may choose to grant them a reversed abjuration. These either make a target unusually vulnerable, or remove a protection that the target would normally have. Reversed abjurations may cause a target to exude a tasty scent that attracts monsters, or may cause their saving throws to be rolled twice, with the worse result being taken.
Examples of abjuration spells from the core LotFP spell list include Invisibility to Undead,Resist Cold/Fire, and Spell Immunity.
Command – A Combat Round: Commands impose god’s will on the world. They are perhaps the most dramatic of the gifts granted to clerics, and their casting must be declared with great force and confidence. Commands do not harm directly, though their results may lead to harm.
Examples of command spells from the core LotFP spell list include Turn Undead, Heat Metal, Sticks to Snakes, Hold Person, and of course, Command.
Blessing – An Exploration Turn: While abjurations protect targets from harm, blessings grant their target new strengths. Strengths which belong to the beneficiary of the blessing for their duration, and may be used at the target’s discretion. Blessings may raise one of the target’s ability scores, grant them some expertise, or cause their blade to burn like fire.
Blessings typically last much longer than abjurations. While the latter might last only a few moments, a blessing can last hours, or even a full day, and in rare cases even longer than that.
Like abjurations, gods may opt to grant reversed blessings, often referred to as curses. Curses weaken their victims, or burden their victims with some struggle .
Examples of blessing spells from the core LotFP spell list include Enlarge, Water Walk, Protection from Evil, and obviously, Bless. An example of a curse might be Geas.
Divination – An Exploration Turn: Divinations allow characters to learn information they would otherwise not know. Some spells grant this information directly, the casting of the spell causing the answer to simply appear in the cleric’s mind. Others are more open ended, allowing the cleric to access a means of learning that they would not normally have.
Examples of divination spells from the core LotFP spell list include Detect Magic, Locate Object, Speak with Animals, Speak with Plants, and Speak with Dead.
Prayer – A Watch (4 Hours): Prayers allow tangible gifts to be requested of god. Prayers can consecrate holy ground, or raise a building from raw stone, or cause a feast to manifest itself. Prayers can also lead to events that might be regarded as exceptionally fortunate, such as running into a band of friendly soldiers out in the wilderness.
Examples of prayer spells from the core LotFP spell list include Create Food & Water, and Swarm of Locusts
Ritual – A Haven Turn (1 Month): Rituals are complex affairs, and often require more than a simple casting. There’s money to be spent on incense and animal sacrifices, sacred dances to be performed, a congregation of faithful that must be gathered. Not all rituals are so elaborate, but no ritual should be taken lightly.
While prayers may be used to magically summon something permanent and mundane (like a building), rituals produce permanent magical effects. They create clay golems to protect the faithful, or place permanent blessings over a settlement. Rituals are also the only way that most clerics will ever produce any healing effects. They might be used to advance the rate at which a group restores their hit points, or to mend broken bones, cure diseases, or remove curses.
Examples of ritual spells from the core LotFP spell list include Cure Disease, and Remove Curse
These six spell schools are useful, but it is important not to overstate their importance. These are guides, meant to direct the referee’s creativity in a vaguely useful direction. They are not strict categories into which all spells can neatly be divided. Players need not even be aware of the schools at all, they have no bearing on a spell’s function after the spell has been written down.
A final word on spell names. As a means of making clerical spells yet more distinct from MU spells, it may be entertaining to give them more scriptural, or prayer-like names. Something that sounds as though it was memorized from a holy text. “6 Word Stories” might be a good rule of thumb. So rather than “Detect Magic,” the spell might be called “Jerome revealed their mysticism before god” The spell description looks the same, but the name of the spell has a more biblical flair.
This may be a controversial thing to say in the OSR right now, but I don’t hate clerics. I’ll happily grant that healing magic is bullshit, but I’d rather rehabilitate the class than remove it altogether. Glory from God is an attempt to create a clerical counterpart to the Magic Words system, drawing on the Petitions of Brendan S., and the spell casting dice pools of Courtney Campbell.
The first step in accessing clerical magic is to choose a god to worship. The god may be selected from the existing pantheon of the referee’s world, or may be created by the player.
To learn a new spell, a cleric must spend time in meditation, prayer, and study. They pour all of their energy into gaining a deeper understanding of god’s will. Only after time and sacrifice will a spell be revealed unto them. One month and 1000 money should be a sufficient amount of devotion to earn a new spell.
The player of the cleric has no role whatsoever in determining the nature of their spells. Divine spells are not created by the clerics who cast them. These spells are gifts from god, presented fully formed to the clergy which earned them. Even if the player was allowed to create their own god before play began, they cannot now exert any influence over the way that god functions. The player is like a meta-divine-watchmaker in this respect.
Clerics may attempt to cast any of the spells they know at any time. There is no need to memorize specific spells in the morning, nor is there any strict limit on how often a cleric may cast each day. Theoretically they could continue to cast indefinitely if the dice (by which I mean god) continue to favor them.
The cleric’s favor with their god is represented by a pool of six sided dice. The size of their pool is equal to 2d6, plus an additional d6 for each cleric level. So, 3d6 at first level, 4d6 at second level, and so on. Possessing powerful relics, or a richly appointed holy symbol may allow the cleric to expand their die pool slightly.
To cast a spell, the cleric rolls as many dice from their pool as they wish. The results are added together, and the total is compared to the chart below. Then, any individual dice which show a number that is less than or equal to the level of the spell being cast are removed from the die pool until the next day. Thus, casting higher level spells will exhaust a cleric’s favor more quickly. There is also a risk/reward element to choosing how many dice to roll for each spell. More dice means a greater likelihood of success, but it also creates more opportunities for dice to end up removed from the dice pool.
How God Responds to Your Petition:
1-2: God is not listening. The spell fails. 3-5: God is disinterested. The spell goes off at the end of the next round, after all parties have acted. 6-11: God acknowledges your faithful service. The spell goes off immediately 12+: God is pleased with you. The spell goes off immediately, and any variable effects are maximized.
Optionally, the referee may allow clerics to purchase consumable items such as holy water or incense to assist in their spellcasting. A single use worth of these items is encumbering. When used as part of casting a spell, these consumables allow the cleric to “fudge” one of their dice by 1. Using this method, dice may even be raised above their maximum face value. So a 6 rolled on a d6 may become a 7, allowing the cleric to retain that die in their pool even if a 6th level spell was cast.
That covers everything that the player need worry about directly. While the system may seem daunting, it is worth pointing out that players will only need access to 3 pieces of information at the table:
Their spell list. Presumably they would already have this anyway.
The size of their dice pool, which would be a very simple thing to record on the character sheet, or to recalculate if it is forgotten.
The 4-entry table for interpreting the results of a spell casting check.
If this is all that interests you, then this is all you need. Referees can use any means they prefer to create their spells, giving clerics whatever flavor suits their campaign world the best. For my own purposes, though, I would like to see cleric magic relegated to a very specific niche, distinct from the magic user. A niche without any healing in it whatsoever.
I’ll detail more thoughts on clerical spell creation in my next post.
From inception, my ORWA campaign has used the Magic Words system. The game only has one magic user in it, but that M.U., named Ronnina, and played by my brother Ronnie, has been around since the very first session on January 6th 2016. Ronnie has been one of the game’s most consistent players, being present for nearly all 40 sessions of the game to date. That means I have something I don’t often get to share: practical data about the functionality of one of my game systems.
In the past year, Ronnina has gathered the following words: Cold, Fist, Blood, Imbue, Animate, Web, Magic, Dog, Balance, Star, Feather, Fairy, Missile, Cone, Pain, Hate, Corpse, Glare, Rock, Sleep, Cloak, Cling, Fall, Fire, Portal, & Hold.
With these, she has created the following 13 spells. Each of these spells has gone through some revision over time, as edge cases arise, and rulings are needed. Some have been buffed a bit here, others have been nerfed a bit there. A certain level of imprecision, and a constant need for fine tuning, are at the heart of Magic Words.\
Fire Portal
Opens a portal in any surface which releases a gout of flame from some unseen place. The flame covers a 10’x10’x10’ space, and deals 1d6 damage, +1d6 for every 3 levels of the caster. The portal must be cast on a surface, and is one-way, nothing can travel from our side to the fire side. For each caster level, the distance the fire reaches from the portal increases by 10′. This does not increase the size of the portal, merely the how far the fire can travel from the portal.
If a space is not large enough to contain the full force of a fire portal, it will, the flames will follow the path of least resistance.
Alternatively, the spell may be cast to grant the caster the ability to conjure five smaller portals over the course of a 12 hour period. These smaller portals deal no damage, but are sufficient to light a candle, or burn a rope.
Failure:
1. The portal sucks all fire from the room. 2. Fire blasts from the caster’s nostrils, dealing no damage but being very painful. 3. The surface the portal is cast on catches on fire and is destroyed, even if that would not normally be possible. 4. The caster goes temporarily deaf for 1d4 hours.
Star Fire
A touch range spell which buffs one willing target for 24 hours. While the spell is active, any time the character successfully improves an NPC’s reaction, they gain one point per level of the caster. These points may either be spent to recover a lost hit point, or to add a +1 to any die roll. Points may be spent individually or in groups, at the discretion of the spell’s target. If used to improve a roll, the use of points must be declared before the roll is made.For the purposes of this spell, “Improving an NPC’s reaction,” refers specifically to raising the results of an initial reaction roll (2-12). This is commonly accomplished with the converse, Perform, Grovel, Honor, and Threaten social actions.
Failure:
1.The target’s skin glows orange, but they gain no other benefit. 2. The target grows massive breasts for 24 hours. 3. The spell works as normal, but any time a reaction is lowered the target takes 1d6 damage. 4. The caster becomes face-blind for a week, and cannot recognize anyone.
Hold Fire
The caster’s hands gain the ability to pick up and hold fire for 1 turn per caster level. Doing this requires a pre-existing source for the fire, but does not extinguish or diminish that source. Once held, the fire can either be thrown (range of 10′) or used as part of an unarmed melee attack. In either event the fire deals 1d4 damage per two caster levels. If the damage rolls in the upper 50% of its range, then the target has caught fire and takes another 1d4 damage per caster level the next round. This continues so long as the damage rolls in the upper half of its range. Failure: 1. The caster believes the spell worked correctly, and is compelled to place their un-protected hand into the first fire they encounter.
2. The caster makes themselves particularly vulnerable to fire, and will take +50% damage from it. 3. The caster’s hand muscles lock up into a fist shape, and the hand is entirely useless for anything but punching for the next 1d6 turns. 4. The caster becomes transfixed by fire. If they see one, they must stare at it until someone yells at them. Minimum one full combat round.
Magic Missile
A missile of magical energy shoots forth from the caster’s fingertip and strikes a target within 60′ + 10′ per level, dealing 1d4 damage. The missile strikes unerringly, even if the target is in melee combat or has cover/concealment. Specific parts of a creature cannot be singled out. The caster is able to produce a number of missiles equal to their level. The full force of this barrage may be directed at a single target, or divided between multiple targets, as the caster desires. Missiles must be assigned to targets before any damage is rolled.Each of Ronnina’s magic missiles look like tiny cartoon, jet-propelled missiles.
Failure: 1. The spell functions normally, but each missile is assigned randomly to a non-caster in the area. 2. The spell works as the caster intended, but only a single missile is produced, which deals 1d4 -1 damage. 3. A number of small glass pellets fly out of the caster’s fingers, plonking against their targets but dealing no damage. 4. A bouquet of flowers appears in the caster’s hand.
Animate Blood
A volume of blood is animated into an ooze like creature. The creature has one hit die, plus one additional hit die for every 3 caster levels, (3, 6, 9, etc). The ooze moves slowly, at only 90′ (30′), but is immune to piercing or slashing damage. (Bludgeoning damage, however, can be very effective at scattering the blood, and works normally). If not destroyed, the creature lasts for 1 hour per level of the caster.
The blood ooze attacks by exciting the blood within the victim, causing it to rush and clot irregularly. This deals 1d4 damage if the creature has 1 hit die, increasing up the dice chain each time the hit die increases. (1d6 at 2 HD, 1d8 at 3 HD, etc).
If cast on the living blood within a person’s body, that person is entitled to a Save versus Magic. On success, the casting failed, and no ooze is created. On failure, the ooze begins to run rampant within the victim’s body. They immediately take damage of a die type appropriate for the ooze’s hit dice. On each successive round, the victim may again attempt the save. If they fail again, they must again take damage. On their first successful save they will vomit up the blood ooze. Both victim and ooze will require a round to compose themselves before they can act normally. If the victim dies before a successful save is made, then the ooze exits of its own volition, and can act immediately)
Failure:
1. The caster mistakenly animates their own blood. 2. The spell instead animates the target’s snot. If there is no target, reroll. 3. Everyone within 60′ of the caster must save versus Magic or be afflicted by a bloody nose which takes friggin’ forever to stop. 4. The caster sets fire to the hem of their robes (or dress, or pants, or other lower body covering).
Animate Cloak
Causes a cloak (or cape) to become animate, moving and acting according to the caster’s verbal commands. The cloak moves by levitating, but cannot move in any way that would be impossible for it to move if it was attached to someone with arms and legs. It cannot fly, leap over melee, or squeeze itself through small spaces.
If the caster wishes, the animated cloak may attempt to visually emulate a moving human figure. As it has no limbs of its own, it can only really be effective if the target of the deception is at some disadvantage. This is used to best effect if it is dark, or if the cloak is at a great distance from the one being tricked.The cloak rolls stealth to succeed in this deception. The chance starts at 1-in-6, and improves by 1 at every 3rd caster level, and for each significant detriment to the target’s perceptions.
The cloak may also attempt to entangle the caster’s foes in combat, preventing them from taking any action. To do this, it grapples as a fighter of the caster’s level, but deals no damage. The target of the grapple must be appropriately sized. Any creature too large to wear the cloak, cannot be effectively grappled by it. Animated cloaks have have 2 hit points per level of the caster, and last for 1 hour per level of the caster.
Failure:
1. The cloak attempts to grapple its own caster until it is destroyed. 2. The cloak becomes intelligent. It’s animation becomes permanent, and it leaves. 3. The spell functions properly, but is cast as though the caster were first level. 4. The spell cast is actually “Self-cleaning and folding cloak.”
Spectral Dog
Summons 1 dog per level, for a total of 2 hours per level. The dogs are translucent creatures of light and smoke, but solid to the touch. They look, feel, and act just like normal dogs, but have no scent. They will obey simple commands from the caster, but are not well trained enough to do anything fancy. “Sit,” “Heel,” “Fetch,” and “Sic ’em” are pretty much the extent of their abilities.
Each dog has an armor rating of 12, 1 hit point, and a +0 to their attack rolls. Each dog starts out dealing 1d3 damage with their bite. At level 5, this increases to 1d6. At level 10, it increases again to 1d8, but does not increase any further than that.The dogs may act for the first time on the round following the one in which they were summoned.
Failure:
1. The dogs are summoned normally, but are not “reasonably well trained” at all. They do not understand any commands, and will pursue only their own instincts and immediate needs. 2. A single real dog is summoned. 3. All the spectral dogs have the aspect of pugs. They are completely useless at any task, but will do their best to obey as normal. 4. The caster turns into a Labrador for the normal duration of the spell.
Hold Portal
Magically holds a passage either open, or closed, as the caster wills. It can effect a door, gate, window, or shutter of wood, metal, or stone. The magic affects the portal just as if it were securely closed and normally locked. Hold Portal lasts for 1d6 turns per caster level.
Failure:
1. Holds the portal the opposite way that it the caster intended: open if you wanted it held closed, closed if you wanted it held open. 2. The effect lasts only 1d4 rounds. 3. Instead of effecting the intended portal, the spell effects the caster’s own mouth for the same length of time. 4. Instead of effecting the portal, you affect the mouths of 2d6 creatures, randomly determined.
Cling to Rock
The person or object the spell is cast on will be stuck to the next stone or concrete their body comes in contact with. There are two versions of this spell: one which allows movement, and can be used to climb sheer stone walls without effort. The second does not allow movement, trapping the target against a body of stone. They are entitled to a save versus Magic to resist the effect. The spell lasts for 3 turns per caster level.
Failure:
1. Which version of the spell the caster intended to conjure is reversed. 2. The caster must save versus Magic or contract some form of lycanthropy. 3. The spell cast is, instead, “Summon,” as written in the LotFP Rules & magic book. 4. The target of the spell transforms into a pebble for the duration of the spell. They are entitled to a save versus Magic to resist.
Cone of Cold
A cone shaped area extends from the caster’s hand, 5′ in length per level of the caster. Heat is suddenly drained out of this area, dealing 1d4 +1 damage per caster level to any living creatures within. Targets may save versus Breath for half damage.
Failure:
1. The cone deals damage equal to the caster’s level, rather than 1d4 + 1 per level. 2. The cone extends backwards from the caster’s hand, striking them, and anyone behind them within the cone’s area. 3. The caster’s hand freezes solid, and must be carefully warmed up again in order to free it. It takes 2 hours of dedicated effort to get the hand free. 4. A randomly determined target within the area of the cone must save versus Magic. On a failure, all heat is drained entirely from their body. Their internal temperature is reduced so dramatically that they are vaporized, becoming a chilling gas which deals 2d4 damage to everyone within 20′ of themselves.
Hold Missiles
The caster raises their hand. So long as they keep their hand up and take no further actions, they generate an invisible sphere with a radius of anywhere from 5′ to 15′, at the caster’s preference. Missiles entering this sphere are halted in mid air, and will remain suspended there until the caster stops channeling the spell, after which they will fall to the ground.
The sphere is able to stop 1 missile per round, per caster level. (Thus it may not be fully effective against automated weapons until the caster reaches higher levels). If the caster is level 5 or higher, they can make a half move action while channeling this spell. If they are level 10 or higher, they can make a full move action while channeling this spell.
Failure:
1. Missiles entering the sphere are accelerated, and deal +1 damage. 2. The sphere functions normally, but also prevents missiles from EXITING the sphere. 3. The sphere functions normally, but is opaque instead of invisible. No one can see in, or out. 4. The sphere functions normally, but the radius expands by 15′ each round, eventually becoming so large that the ones firing the missiles are inside of it, and thus immune to having their missiles stopped by it.
Hold Magic
After this spell is cast, the next spell cast by the Magic user will not go off as normal. Instead, the spell will hold in suspended animation at the first picosecond of its existence. It will remain in this state until the caster activates it with a mental command (or for 1 hour per caster level, after which the spell rots away into nothingness). When activated by the caster’s mental command, the spell comes to life, and occurs from the same spot it was originally cast from. Activating a spell which has already been cast is a free action.
If the Magic user is level 4 or higher, Hold Magic may be cast as a free action. Thus, only the casting time of the spell that is being held is required. If the magic user is level 8 or higher, the held spell may be “carried” with the magic user. Thus a Magic Missile could be cast, held, and then carried around with the magic user, ready to be activated as a free action at-will.
At first, only one spell may be held at a time. At level 6, two spells may be held. At level 12, three spells may be held. Each held spell requires an additional casting of Hold Magic.
Failure:
1. The spell the caster intends to hold is simply destroyed. 2. The next spell cast is held appropriately, but when it is released, it must roll on its failure table. 3. The hair on the caster’s head immediately grows for 1 exploration turn, cascading down around their body until it reaches the floor. 4. The next spell cast is held appropriately, but its release is out of the caster’s control. Instead, it is a ticking time bomb. There is a 1 in 4 chance each exploration turn that it will go off.
Magic Glare
Magic Glare may be cast subtly without need for wild gestures or loud speech. If the caster has a reaction of at least Neutral with the target, Magic Glare can be used to shame the target out of a decision they have made. The target is entitled to a save versus Magic to resist this effect. On a failed save, the target will announce their altered decision.
For every 4 levels, the caster may expectantly ask “AND…?” after each time the target finishes explaining their altered decision. For each “AND…?”, the target is entitled to another save versus Magic. If they again fail, they will add provisos to their new decision to make it even more pleasing to the magic user. If they succeed on the save, they’ll just say “And that’s it.”
Failure:
1. The target will realize a spell was attempted upon them, and will have their reaction lowered by 2. 2. The target goes temporarily blank from having someone mess with their mind. They forget the last 2 minutes of their lives. 3.The caster lets out a fart that just…will…not…stop. It lasts for 1 full exploration turn. 4.The target begins to dance. They will continue dancing until anyone mentions that they are dancing, after which they will sheepishly stop.
I maintained spell levels in the Magic Words system because I wanted to make the system as compatible as possible with existing spell lists. If you craft a 3rd level spell with the words “Fire” and “Ball,” I want that spell to function exactly as you thought it would. The point of Magic Words was never to get rid of the classic old spells. The classic old spells are great. I just wanted to encourage more magical creativity.
Almost immediately I recognized that spell levels were going to be the most complicated part of putting the system into practice. What really is the difference between a 3rd level spell and a 4th level spell? If I were to create a new spell of middling power, and asked you to assign a level to it, would you know right away what level it should have? I would have to think about it, compare it to spells on the core spell lists, and ultimately hazard a guess as to what level it ought to be. I wouldn’t even be very confident in my guess.
And I’ve already got years of experience with the D&D magic system to contextualize what the various spell levels mean. I have no idea how a newcomer would even begin trying to assign levels to newly created spells. It’s a system that basically requires the user to already be an expert before they even attempt to use it. That’s not inherently a bad thing, not everything needs to be accessible to newcomers. But if a game system isn’t going to be accessible, then I need a good justification for it. I need to be getting some cool benefit in exchange for the assumption of expert-level knowledge.
Delineating spells by level is hardly a cool benefit.
So Magic Words doesn’t use spell levels anymore. All spells exist on an equal footing, and could be learned by even a 1st level Magic User. Some spells might be better or worse than other spells, but that’s just magic. Not every spell is created equal, but that doesn’t mean the good spells require any greater ability to cast.
Removing spell levels does introduce some new problems for the Magic Words system which we gotta tackle.
If every spell is available at first level, then how do we prevent a high level Magic User from having a repertoire of weak, useless spells?
How would this system handle really powerful spells that are totally inappropriate for a first level character to have access to?
If we’re not using spell levels anymore, that means we’re not using the “Spells per level” chart which tells us how many spells a magic user can cast per day. So how many spells can a magic user cast per day?
Lets tackle each of those individually. There’s a TL;DR at the end.
How do we prevent a high level MU from having a repertoire of useless spells?
Taking our cues from the LotFP Playtest booklet, we just need to include more variables in spells that are dependent on caster level. So instead of a spell dealing 1d6 damage, perhaps it deals 1d6 damage per 2 caster levels. Tons of elements in a spell can be made variable: the time it takes to cast the spell, the duration of the spell, the range of the spell, the number of targets the spell effects.
Variable elements don’t need to be limited to numbers. Take, for example, a spell which causes people to become confused and choose the targets of their attacks at random. This spell could have a note that if the caster is above level 5, then the victim of the spell has double the normal chance of attacking their allies. As another example, the traditional spell “Invisibility” might automatically become “Greater Invisibility” if the caster is beyond a certain level.
Alternatively, some spells could function based on a difference in hit dice between the caster and the target. Consider a spell which causes the target to make a save, or die of a heart attack. If the spell only works on targets “With 3 or more fewer hit dice than the caster,” then the spell grows in power as the character levels. Simply by virtue of the fact that they will encounter more targets who fall within the spell’s description.
How do we handle spells too powerful for a first level character to have access to?
In my current campaign, my players hope to get a space ship one day. When they do, they want to place a time-dilation effect over the dead earth, and fast-forward its geological development to the point where it again becomes habitable. If I wanted to include this spell in my campaign, I don’t see a good way to make it variable. I suppose I could create really slow, really small time dilation bubbles that grow in both size and rate of acceleration. But that feels like unnecessarily shoehorning a cool idea into a limited system just for the sake of consistency.
Any number of spells might feel “too big” to allow easy access: summoning Godzilla, making a Wish, creating human life in your vats. These spells can be restricted by making them rituals, and rituals have all sorts of nutty requirements. So while the spell itself can be learned by a first level MU, actually casting it requires resources beyond the meager means of any first level character.
For example, lets take my world-scale time dilation bubble. The MU in my current campaign could, if they had the appropriate words, research that spell right now. But, if they want to cast it, they’ll need 3 months of continuous casting time, 300 virgin sacrifices, and 100,000 gold pieces worth of ceremonial accoutrements. Not to mention that some good guy somewhere might take umbrage to all that virgin sacrificing, and try to stop them.
Magic in my games tends toward inherently evil, or at least amoral. Magic Users proceed at their own risk, the referee cannot be held responsible for the loss of your soul.
How many spells can a Magic User cast per day?
I was stumped on this question for awhile. My first instinct was to check Wonder & Wickedness. Brendan’s spells are levelless, and designed to be compatible with the standard game. That’s the same thing I’m trying to do here! I figured he probably came up with a good way to resolve this.
According to W&W, Magic Users can cast a number of spells per day equal to their level. If they want, they can try to cast more than that, but they risk spell failure (more colorfully referred to as catastrophes in Brendan’s words). This struck me as all wrong. That’s way too few spells per level! It smacks of what I was talking about the other day when I introduced spell failure into the Magic Words system. It makes casting feel too punishing.
At this point I figured I’d hit a dead end. Time to innovate! I came up with some functional possibilities, but none of them were elegant. I was just getting frustrated when it struck me that I should reference the rules-as-written spells-per-level table to get a baseline idea of how many overall spells an MU of each level can cast. All I would have to do is convert all of the MU’s spell slots to first level, add them up, and see how their overall number of spell slots increased at each level.
At levels 1, 2, 3, and 4, a Magic User has…a number of spell slots equal to their level.
Apparently Brendan had the same idea I did.
After level 4, the rate of spell acquisition increases at a weirdly explosive rate. At levels 5 and 6 the MU has one more spell slot than they do levels. Every level after that, the gap widens by 1. At level 7 you have 2 slots more than your level, at level 8 you have 3 slots more than your level, at level 9 you have 4 more than your level, and at level 10 you have 5 more than your level.
This seems backwards to me. The game at low levels is a much more tightly designed experience. A big concern about higher level play is that the texture of the game gets lost beneath all of the player’s growing power and wealth. Many referees struggle to keep up with it, so why would the growth of spellcasting ability accelerate at higher levels?
Apparently Brendan’s solution is not so austere as it first seemed to me. Particularly when you take into account the option to cast beyond the strict limits of your ability at the risk of spell failure. So casters could prepare a number of spells per day equal to their level, and cast them without risk of failure. If they wish they can cast unprepared spells (or recast expended spells), but doing so risks spell failure.
I realize this is nothing more than a lengthy way of saying “I’m just gonna copy Wonder & Wickedness.” I considered saving you the time of reading this, and myself the time of writing it, by saying so up front. However, given my reaction to the W&W rule, I think the thought process that led me to adopting it is valuable. I doubt I’m the only person who saw “1 spell slot per level” and thought it was too restrictive to be fun.
TL;DR: What I’m changing about Magic Words.
Spells no longer have any spell levels associated with them. Every spell can be learned by a 1st level Magic User.
The majority of spells should have elements that are variable depending on the caster’s level, so that they become more powerful as the caster levels up.
Some particularly powerful spells can have ritual requirements that place them beyond the ability of most low level casters to actually perform.
Magic Users may prepare a number of spells per day equal to their level. These spells may be cast freely, without any risk of spell failure.
Casters may cast spells not currently prepared, or re-cast a prepared spell that has already been expended. Doing so risks spell failure.
Neither of those things has ever shown up in one of my games. Here’s why:
Most systems that include spell failure, in my experience, make it a common risk of any casting whatsoever. It makes playing a Magic User dangerous to the point that it’s entirely unappealing.
DCC’s individualized Tables of Spell Results mean that every spell’s description is in excess of a page in length. Not only does this make writing new spells a creatively exhausting chore, but it means that you need a huge stack of reference material at the table. I don’t like the idea of needing to search for page numbers every time a spell is cast during play. That’s part of the reason Magic Words appealed to me in the first place.
So how can we take these two super cool things, throw in a dash of the new spellcasting rules from the LotFP Playtest booklet, and create a good spell failures system for Magic Words?
Magic Words: Optional Spell Failure Rules
Magic Users may cast spells entirely as normal so long as they are unrestricted and free from distractions. This means the Magic User must:
Take no damage during the same round that they’re casting.
Are willing to cast in an entirely obvious fashion (excepting spells which specifically state that they can be cast subtly).
Are no more than Lightly encumbered.
Are not suffering from malnutrition, sleep deprivation, or other forms of exhaustion.
Within those limitations, there is no chance for a Magic User’s spells to fail. If the caster wishes to, they can risk spell failure by attempting to cast outside of those limitations. Such as when:
They have taken damage during the same round they were attempting to cast a spell.
They have Bleed, Internal Bleed, or Pain.
Their arms, legs, or voice are restricted and unavailable for use.
They wish to cast a non-stealth spell stealthily.
They are more than lightly encumbered.
They are suffering from malnutrition, sleep deprivation, or another form of exhaustion.
In any of those circumstances, there is a 3-in-6 chance that any spell the Magic User casts will fail.
When a spell fails, it’s not just a fizzling of impotent magic. The player must roll to determine unintended magical effect occurs. These possible effects are unique to each spell, and are created by the referee at the same time the spell is originally drafted. Obviously, this adds to the amount of work the referee is responsible for, which is the primary reason I’d treat this rule as optional. However, my own experience running a weekly campaign using Magic Words has shown that the work involved in creating new spells is so slight as to be negligible. I don’t anticipate this addition to substantially tax the creative abilities of any referee.
A 1d4 table of failures for each spell should be sufficient. More might be entertaining, but I think they would be superfluous. In LotFP, spell slots are not so numerous that a magician can fire off a spell during every round of combat. Spell failure won’t be common enough that you’ll get bored with 4 different failure options. But neither is it so few that players can easily plan for how spell failure will play out if it happens.
Note that there is no obligation for the referee to make the spell failures logically connected to the spell they are associated with. They can be, but it’s by no means necessary. After all, the logic of magic is indecipherable. A failed fireball causing time to jump backwards 10 seconds may seem random, but that’s only because you’ve got a tiny limited human brain. If you really understood magic, you’d get it.
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.
The stars still misdirect the target; but instead of leading to a random direction they lead to a great treasure. If the magic user owns any such treasure, that is what they are led to. Otherwise the treasure is random.
The target sees the night sky as completely black and devoid of any stars. As this is something others can easily confirm as false, they will probably realize they’ve been cursed very quickly.
The light of the stars burns the skin of the caster for the next month, dealing 1d4 damage for each hour spent under their light. Remove Curse will remedy this effect.
Cartoon stars begin to orbit the target’s head, spinning and twinkling.
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 perceived 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.
The target gains +2 to their attacks, but are not perceived any differently by others.
The target must save versus magic, or begins acting in a buffoonish manner, as though they’re intentionally trying to do a frankly offensive impression of a mentally challenged warrior.
The target is engulfed in blue flames which do not burn them. In darkness they take a -2 penalty to their armor class.
The target becomes insubstantial for the next hour, and is completely unable to interact with (or be affected by) the material world.
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 perceive 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.
The caster sees a false image of what is below them. Nothing they see is remotely accurate.
The caster sees an accurate image of the landscape as it was 24 hours ago.
The caster becomes trapped in the Star Seat, and cannot leave it until the spell runs its course after 1 hour. Any attempt to remove them by force causes 1d10 damage.
The star seat works in reverse, sending the perceptions of whomever sits in it deep underground. For as long as they sit, they see nothing but darkness, dirt, and stone. (Unless there’s something to see down there).
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.
Any chairs within the vicinity of the caster catch on fire, even if they are made of a material that is not typically flammable.
The caster sinks up to their knees in the ground.
The caster turns into a chair for the duration of the time the spell would be in effect.
Time stops for the caster for 1d6 rounds. The world around them moves forward normally.
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.
The chair is actually a Seat of Skepticism, and whomever sits in it is unusually obstinate. Use the opposite modifiers you would have used if the spell was working properly.
The chair is actually a Seat of Discomfort. Anyone who sits in it will constantly shift around, offer awkward answers, and excuse themselves to return home at the earliest opportunity.
The chair is actually a Seat of Wit. Anyone sitting in it will be unable to do anything but offer “clever” responses to anything that is said.
The chair is actually a Seat of Bad Faith. Everything someone says while sitting in this chair is a lie.
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.
For 2 rounds per caster level, the target may only attempt to harm someone by indirect means. They may attempt to convince the person to consume something that has been poisoned, or they can attempt to fell a tree that will happen to fall on a person; but they cannot force poison down someone’s throat, or directly use a weapon against someone.
The caster’s head turns around backwards and will remain stuck that way until they make a save versus magic. They may attempt one save per day, after today.
Any missiles loosed between now and the same time next round will stop mid air, spin around, and launch themselves at the target of the spell instead.
The target suffers a -2 per caster level to their attack roll on their next attack.
