What do you think
of, what image comes to mind, when you hear the word "wizard?"
Is there some iconic character of the silver screen pops into your head?
A classic illustration of some sort? Merlin? Gandalf? A video game persona
you've been running on your favorite MMORPG? A medieval woodcut?
I wouldn’t be surprised to find that more than a few of
my readers have their images of the “magic user” informed by RPG art,
especially that of Dungeons & Dragons. Depending on how young you were when
you were introduced to the concept of D&D, it’s quite possible that much of
your mental pictures of “fantasy” were informed by D&D…or informed by art inspired
by D&D.
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My iconic wizard. |
My own mental image goes back to something different,
though. I usually picture the wizard off the cover of the Time Life Book, Wizards and Witches, which was one of my favorites
as a child…despite not owning it.
[I don’t know if
Time Life Books still publishes these types of series books. They used to be
advertised in TV infomercials all the time…volumes on the Old West or WW2, for
example. I knew a couple people who collected the “fantasy” series growing up
and had a chance to peruse these books…later on, I was fortunate enough to pick
up Wizards and Witches, the first
volume of the series, in a used book store]
Wizards and Witches
provides a lot of good, fun information on the magic users of folklore and
mythology, collecting a number of stories from different cultures, not to
mention containing many beautiful illustrations. Published circa 1983, this was
the first place I discovered Baba Yaga and Vainamoinen and Faust, despite being
a (young) veteran of D&D. But then, I was always drawn towards fairy tales
as a child (even before D&D) and stories of knights and dragons and wizards
and unicorns, etc. would get me amped up faster than a two-liter bottle of
Coke. It’s probably why I read so much as a child…back then, books were the
main place (or only place) to find such stories, which I devoured when I could
get my hands on ‘em.
Anyway, wizards (as depicted in W&W) were pretty much
always shown as older gentlemen with long beards and fantastic headgear…miracle
workers, with a penchant for flamboyant garb, if an otherwise, respectable and
learned “elder” air about them. And I daresay that one will find a similar
theme running through the illustrations of the older D&D editions. Whether
you’re talking Easley’s painting of “Ringlerun” on the re-vamped PHB (my go-to
book for many years) or the Otus drawing on the cover of the Cook Expert set,
the robe-and-beard chic instantly
identifies an image as a person of sorcery.
Who are these geezers?
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THIS is Dungeons & Dragons. |
Take a look at the original cover of the AD&D
PHB…beautiful and iconic and probably the best depiction of “what D&D is
all about” just in terms of the action portrayed. Yes, we have a number of
adventurers depicted doing “adventurous stuff.” Can you spot the wizard in the
illo? My guess is you’d be drawn to this geezer here:
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Withered much? |
Now tell me: exactly what retirement home did the party knock over to get this guy on the
team?
In my D&D
games, I can’t ever recall seeing an “old” wizard. After all, nothing in the
rules requires you to create a character that is anything other than a young
adventurer in the prime of life…and considering the fact that most campaigns
will see you starting at a low level (i.e. “with little magical knowledge”),
who would want to play an old coot that’s still “learning the ropes?”
Even if you use the aging
tables in the 1st edition AD&D DMG (we always did, back in the day), a first level magic-user has a
maximum starting age of 40, and an average age of 30 or so. The guys on the
cover of the PHB seem to about the right age for a group of adventures (20s and
30s that is)…except for the geezer with the staff and the long beard. How is
that representative of D&D?
Answer: it’s not.
But it IS representative of the
iconic figure of the “old, bearded wizard.”
But those iconic wizards with the bent back and long beard are also miracle workers, full of might and power...or at least well versed in magical knowledge. If anything, the rules of D&D allow you to create a young magician and tell the story of how exactly he got to the old age, long beard, and powerful wisdom so often depicted in images and folklore.
Except to do so would make the other heroes likewise old and decrepit. Heroic
adventurers (other than wizards) are supposed to be hale and hearty individuals
in the prime of their lives…and unless there’s some sort of carry-over from
campaign-to-campaign (with old, high-level wizards being “grandfathered in,” no
pun intended) you’re never going to see that stereotypical geezer hanging with
the young Turks. Well, maybe after an unfortunate run-in with a ghost.
But, okay, let’s forget the whole “geezer deficit” thing for a moment.
Let’s ask WHY the archetype is typically portrayed in this way?
My guess (or theory or whatever) is that it has something to do with
these individuals being wise and learned individuals. Knowledge and lore is,
for the most part, only acquired with time and experience and wizards, having
excessive amounts of knowledge (compared to the average person) must have been
around for a long time.
[yes, there are some pretty young thang sorceresses to be
found in folklore, but the really powerful witches – like Baba Yaga – tend to be portrayed as ancient crones, and more than a few of those female mages are said
to augment their appearance with their magic. The main vanity of the male
wizard appears to be the length and flow-yness of his beard]
I mean, I suppose they could all be half-demons aging backwards like
Merlin or Benjamin Button…but then wouldn’t the stories be littered with child-size
archmagi?
No, I think that wizards are supposed to be old and stooped due to the
time it takes them to acquire and learn the magical knowledge that sets them
apart from their fellows. In a pseudo-medieval world (like your typical D&D
campaign) there’s no internet and a near total lack of libraries and “centers
for higher education.” Knowledge…especially occult
knowledge…is scarce and hard to come by. There’s a reason why your average
villager isn’t learning a handful of crop-growing spells. It’s not that there’s
a limit on magical talent in the fantasy world…it’s that there’s a dearth of
learning opportunity.
And trying to get that learning is going to COST you, too. Being a
scarce resource allows wizards to charge a pretty penny for their knowledge…and
keeping that price high means keeping a lid on the supply. If the village does happen to have a hedge wizard or wise woman,
they’re unlikely to want to train any new apprentices…at least not until
they’re ready to retire as the local potion-maker of the region. Any type of
“wizard school” is likely to only enroll the wealthiest of students…and
knowledge will probably only be doled out by the spoonful, as the majority of
an apprentice’s time will be spent doing chores around the tower or recopying
ancient, decaying tomes…not to mention working in the gardens, cooking meals,
satisfying the wizard’s more carnal desires, etc. Basically paying an
exorbitant amount of gold for the privilege
of being a slave; all for the promise
of learning magic. Only the most intelligent of nobleman’s children are going
to learn much of anything anyway…and only after a long time (and probably only
after taking the initiative to do their own extra studies in snatched, spare
moments).
Is it any wonder when sorcerers turn to supernatural means of acquiring
knowledge? Including diabolic
sources?
The idea of learning magic from Satan or his minions isn’t a new one, of
course. Even outside of fiction, the Christian prohibition on working magic is
in part based on the premise that its knowledge is procured from hellish
sources (the other part of the prohibition comes from the separation from God
that occurs when one attempts to acquire powers that should only be available
to our Divine Creator). The word occult simply means “hidden,” and there’s a school of
thought that such knowledge is hidden with good reason. The Faust story, retold
often over the last several centuries, is the prototypical illustration of
this.
Faust is an aged, learned guy who, being jaded and getting on in years,
decides to make a pact with Satan to live out his last years with all the
decadence that magic and hell can provide. Of course, this costs him his
eternal soul…but then, that’s why it’s a morality tale. You learn Faust got the
short end of the stick and you shouldn’t make his mistake (even in the Goethe
version, BTW…Faust is only saved because of his actual repentance, and the kind
of divine intervention no one should expect).
But D&D is a game, not a morality tale. I don’t kill people and take
their gold in real life…my normal approach to “conflict resolution” usually
involves establishing a dialogue and using a little empathy. Part of the fun of
a fantasy game is gleeful immersion in the role of a “scurrilous rogue;” why
wouldn’t you make a Fasutian bargain if it was available?
Assuming your character isn’t some do-goody paladin-type, of course.
Now, personally, I don’t think the concept of demon summoning goes very
well with the Vancian magic of D&D. The pseudo-scifi-weirdness of Vance’s
Dying Earth is…well, it’s a different animal compared to the spell working and
conjuration found in many folklore tales. A character in Vance’s DE imprints a
spell in his brain through memorization (duh) and “fires” the incantation like
a chambered bullet, taking immediate effect. There’s no gathering of
ingredients, no waiting for the right stars, no chanting and dancing and
ritual…all things associated with magic in tales and literature (the only
“instant” spells being…usually…associated with magic items, which themselves
may have taken time to prepare)…unlike D&D’s Vancian magic.
Or rather, “unlike D&D’s Vancian magic as originally conceived.”
Since the advent of AD&D, magic has become a bit of a hybrid, combining
folklore with Vance. Spells have “casting times” often exceeding the “instant”
time frame. Spells require “material components,” some of which require
elaborate preparation. Whether this was done to make Gary’s world more “mythic”
in feeling, or simply a matter of “game balance”…who knows? To me, the answer
doesn’t really matter, because the starting point (i.e. Vance; see OD&D) doesn’t
work for me. It’s a faulty foundation from which to derive the system of magic
most folks now take for “D&D magic.”
Yeah, that’s the heart of the matter, and the crux of this post. I don’t
play wizards in D&D, don’t much like
wizards in D&D, because they don’t meet my expectations of what a
wizard is or should be. How’s that grab you? I don’t want to play a
30-something dude with a sleep spell and maybe a charm
spell imprinted on my brain…that doesn’t meet my world view when it comes to
spell-casters. What I want are old
geezers who can truck with demons and spirits and produce supernatural effects
because of the occult lore they’ve accumulated over decades.
Is that too much to ask?
I mean is it? Does that wreck the “game balance?”
Let me tell y’all a story. There’s this little spell in 1st
edition PHB called cacodemon…not sure how many of you are familiar with it. It’s a
7th level spell; its first appearance (maybe only appearance) in any edition of D&D is in 1E AD&D. It
allows the magic-user to summon a single demon of the more powerful type (IV,
V, or VI) and bargain with it for service…or condemn it to an otherworldly
prison.
You may not be familiar with this spell…I wasn’t (even after many years
of playing AD&D) until I saw it used in a game my younger brother was
running for two friends. They were about age 12 or so at the time, and it was a
fairly typical Monty Haul type game with high level pregens…the kind of game
you run when you’re a young DM and have just gotten your hands on your older
siblings supercool AD&D books. My brother’s buddy Mike was playing an evil
mage (a typical character for this particular player), and when they got
into a combat with some monster or other, Mike announced he wanted to summon a
demon using cacodemon.
Unfortunately, the casting time is six hours so my brother (in typical
young DM fashion) ruled the PC would be out of action for the duration while completing
the summoning…presumably off in some corner of the dungeon. The combat
proceeded with the other buddy (Brandon) in equally ridiculous fashion, and
they all had a few laughs and a pretty good time. I had only been brought in
for “consultation,” but having never seen the cacodemon spell in
action, couldn’t really provide any great insights.
That was almost 25 years ago. It was the one and only time I’ve seen
someone attempt to use the spell.
I like the idea of cacodemon, but I can’t for the life
of me see any real application for it in the AD&D game. I guess it could be
used like a suped-up invisible stalker, but there sure is
a lot of work and effort needed considering its effect…including the need to
discover a demon’s “true name?” Why go through the trouble, even to “imprison”
the creature; you’d probably have an easier time simply killing the monster if
you really had a bone to pick with it!
The presence of cacodemon…and spiritwrack, for that
matter…is just odd to me. As I said, I like the idea of it (because, you know, Faust)
but it’s a 7th level spell, requiring a 14th level
character to cast it. And most 14th level characters don’t have much
use for a 7+7 or 8+8 hit dice servant…especially one so resentful and dangerous
and so limited in scope of duration. The time to summon such creatures should
be when a character is of a lesser level…when the wizard is inexperienced and
naïve, and believes the reward outweighs the risk. Not when the wizard can toss around disintegrate spells and14
hit die lightning bolts! I can only assume this is Gygax’s homage to Faust and other demon summoning in literature,
and that it was given as a 7th level spell for purposes of “game
balance.” Or maybe it was simply provided as a justification for high level
opponent wizards to have demonic servants?
I really don’t know…what I do
know is that in 25 years of play, I’ve never seen it used. In fact, I briefly considered trying to beg my way back into Alexis’s on-line campaign with sole objective of playing a mage and trying the cacodemon
spell (how many hit points would a Type IV demon have in his campaign using its size/mass?)…but upon realizing it would
probably take 10+ years to achieve the required level, decided the “experiment”
wouldn't be worth the amount of effort involved.
Such is the case with a lot of the “high level content” of D&D. You
pick up the book and say, “hey, my character can control weather or teleport
once I hit X level.” But the chance of hitting that level (and opening that
content) is so remote given the normal parameters of table-top play, that you
might as well save yourself the despair and skip the spell descriptions of any
spell over the 4th magnitude.
Frustrating. Give me my old
geezer who can at least do a neat thing or two. I’m willing to be aged and
beardy if it means I can part the sea and call rocks down from the mountains.
Hell, I don’t want to play a “young apprentice;” I want to play a wizened loremaster.
Forget game balance for a moment…game balance is only a “problem” due to
magnitude of spell being linked to ass kickery and putting wizards in the role
of “fantasy artillery.” The whole damn class needs a paradigm shift, in my opinion.
Which means, from a design perspective, starting from scratch once again.
Consider the desired end result:
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Magicians should have enough knowledge to be
(magically) effective throughout a game session.
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Magicians should be old geezers and crones by
default…unless you want to play someone young and not very
knowledgeable/proficient.
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Magicians shouldn’t over-shadow the other
characters. Magic cannot solve every problem.
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Magic has limitations and/or hazards; there are
reasons for not using magic all the time.
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Magic is not Vancian.
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Magic is not confined to individuals who possess a
special “magic gene.”
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Magic is not artillery…or only in very limited
circumstances.
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Magic use requires secret knowledge.
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Magic use requires belief and conviction.
I’ll be building from there. More on all this later.
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"Come forth, Mephisto!" |