Might and Magic (Part 2)

[continued from here]

People may notice that the list of blogs listed in the sidebar include a random sampling of non-active blogs that probably need to be deleted...and perhaps someday they will, if I ever get around to getting active on Patreon (and want to make blog listing a "reward" for some level of support). However, I still hold out hope that these might "fire up" again, at some point in the future. And sometimes, I still reference them for their old posts.

Such is the case with long dead Grognardia. As I wrote in Part 1, I was up till the wee hours combing through old (digital) copies of The Dragon, and I was using some of James's old posts to add a bit of additional perspective. Just in random passing, I came across this old post of his and (especially in view of my recent thoughts, dissatisfaction with magic-users as is/was) it reminded me of something. I hate the lumping of spell-casters into one or (at most) two types "magic paradigm."

See my post on this back in 2010. At the time, I was working on The Complete B/X Adventurer (man, THAT has been selling like hotcakes the last two months, just by the way) and in an effort to add more content to a skinny book, decided to throw in some different types of spell-casting classes. I ended up with five total (gnomes, mystics, summoners, tattoo mages, and witches), each with their own variant form of magic...not just "magic-users with different spell lists," but completely different approaches to the form and function of magic. The bee in my bonnet (at the time) was this idea that isn't it Goddamn boring to have everything simply be arcane or divine?

Let me answer that: Yes. Yes it is.

This is the reason you don't find illusionists in D&D after 1st edition (at least, not as a core class). First, ya' fold all their spells under a heading called "arcane," then you say:

"Hey, if you want to specialize in illusion magic, pick illusion spells."

Much as I want a certain cosmology in my game world, I don't want a unified field theory of magic.

[hmm...I say this after already creating a brand-new variant magic system for the current project consisting of a single list of spells: the Forty Magnificent Marvels. Sigh...back to the drawing board...again]

I like the idea of different magical schools, each dedicated to a different brand of enchantment. Fire mages, necromancers, druids, etc. It's not a terribly original concept, I realize: I believe I first saw this kind of paradigm circa 1983 with DragonQuest (I created a stone giant who was a member of the Earth Magic college...sadly, we never had the chance to do more than chargen that day...). Ars Magica does a little of this, too, and I've used the concept a couple times in past FHBs I was developing ("LORE," which I briefly mentioned before, had some of this). The original WHFRP had demonologists, necromancers, battle mages, etc. each with their own separate spell list, skills, and (in some cases) horrifying drawbacks.

I dig this...it has a very old school (please, PLEASE forgive the use of that term!) pulp fantasy vibe. Like the rival wizard guilds in a Leiber story trying to show off why their magic is supreme (shades of 70's Hong Kong flicks with feuding martial art schools). Heck, it's the kind of thing that could work well with the concept of "wizard duels." Forget counter-spells: an illusionist doesn't know the first thing about countering a fire mage's spell. But create a mechanic to simulate dueling, and you can still have two mages of different backgrounds duking it out.

Now that I think of it, this is a big part of why I dug Magic Cards, waaaay back: the idea that you were a Red Mage or a Blue Mage or whatever, and the deck represented your spell book. I always liked working with a "theme;" but then, I've long been one of those people that prefer the fluff of a game over practical application (often to my detriment). Hmm...now that reminds me of the Rankin-Bass film Flight of Dragons with its different colored "wizard brothers."

Of course, that just reminds me of Tolkien (again) with its grey, white, brown, and blue wizards...and weren't Frank Baum's witches color-coded as well? Differing magic by color has a long and distinguished tradition, I suppose...

*ahem*

And to tie this back to the last post... One thing I was considering (just an idea, mind you), is providing more static spell lists for magicians. Limiting them (I suppose you'd say) rather than throwing this huge list of spells at players, only to have them (mostly) choose the same spells over and over. There would be some variation, of course (just as fighters get to choose what weapons they want to carry), and perhaps different lists depending on theme (a druid style list versus the illusionist, for example). Magicians would still acquire effectiveness with experience, though perhaps not so much a greater repertoire of spells. And the spells that would be gained (with increase in level) would be equally limited...something akin to Barker's EPT (1st edition) skill trees, building on knowledge already known.

No necromancers, though...otherwise everyone wants to be one.

The trade-off here...or, rather, what would be gained...would be an increased effectiveness from the get-go. Your magician (or pyromancer or whatever), would have a number of spells at his or her disposal right from 1st level...perhaps the equivalent (in D&D terms) of seven or eight spells ranging in magnitude of 1st through 3rd level. Something fairly equivalent to Gandalf, in other words. None of these would be over-powering, "game changing" sort (unless applied in creative fashion)...most would be of the "utility" type (said utility being determined by the school or "theme" of magic).

Anyway, just an idea I have...I'll see if I can work up some sample lists in the next couple days and post 'em to the blog. I have a strong suspicion that long-time players of the MU class in D&D might hate-hate-hate this concept for a number of reasons: it undermines the work they've put into mastering spell lists, it reduces the choices/options they have, it penalizes the creative strategies they've developed over years of play, it doesn't have the same feel as Vancian D&D, etc. And if folks DO raise these objections, I say: FINE. Go play D&D.

Take your 1st level sleep bomber or charm personer with your bandolier of throwing knives and go play D&D. Pick your edition...it's all the same (except that recent ones let you shoot lasers...um, "cantrips"...just like Harry Potter). Go skulk behind the fighters and clerics for umpteen game sessions until you've acquired enough points that you can be effective. Go do it...I'm not going to stop you! And when you've reached the lofty level where you outclass the non-spell-casters and there's the potential threat of grumbling, you can always incorporate feats and maneuvers and weapon specialization and be a merry band spending an entire game session on a single battle that will be a challenge for your immensely talented party.

That's one way to play (and a time honored one, to be sure). I'm just trying to work on a different way: one that appeals to me. I'm a guy who doesn't play magic-users...like never ever ever. And not because I don't like magic or something. I love stories of wizards and sorcerers and magicians and witches (well, most such stories...sorry, Ms. Rowling). Gandalf is a personal favorite...in fact, I lied! I did...once...play a wizard in 3rd Edition, and I modeled the character on Gandalf, right down to taking Martial Weapon Proficiency: Sword.

[I believe I related this story in the past? We couldn't get past the first obstacle in the adventure because I, as the party wizard, had not taken the "correct" spells. 'What do you mean you don't have fly? You're seventh level!' The DM, folded the adventure in disgust and our session ended. It was the last time I've ever played a straight wizard PC]

I don't like magic-users in D&D. I don't like the way they're conceptualized, I don't like their mechanics, I don't particularly like their steep power curve (and I'm a person that likes power!). So, I want to make a magician class that I'd like to play. That's all this is, folks.
: )

Eowyn

Long before I ever started this blog, probably shortly before (or, more likely, shortly after) I discovered The Forge and became really interested in the nuts and bolts of game design, I tried my hand at creating a system for a new fantasy RPG...one very different from B/X or D&D.

In fact, I'm going to say it was before I discovered "indie game design" because that was about 2005, and this was an idea I came up with when traveling in Canada with my wife back in the early 2000s...maybe even before we got married (which was in 2000). Whew...a loooong time ago.

This game idea was called "LORE" (which was an acronym for something, though I can't remember exactly what), and I can't seem to find the docs that had my notes...they're probably on some old zip drive back in Seattle. Anyway, back in those days, my main objective was to make sure that character creation could model various (fantasy) literary personalities (Conan, Elric, etc.) from the get-go without needing to wade through a bunch of "low levels" to become a proficient character. And the main literary person I used to model the LORE system was Tolkien's character, Eowyn.

This pic is too small.

Eowyn is one of my favorite characters from literature...at least as far as bit parts go. I dig most everything about her; I identify with many things about her. I think many people do: for most of us there have been times that we've been underestimated in our lives or frustrated at the pull between doing one's duty and doing what we want to do. Those who are younger siblings may have felt the pang of being told we need to "stay home" while the older sibling goes off to do something we want to do...and older siblings (like myself) have felt the guilt of not being "responsible enough" (even when our rebellion is only within our own minds). There are some archetypal emotions at work here.

But, mainly I like Eowyn because she kicks ass. This is the equivalent of an unblooded, 1st level fighter...and yet she's not afraid to talk smack to the Lord of the Nazgul. And then she backs it up by killing off his evil dinosaur mount, going toe-to-toe with the guy, and sticking her sword betwixt his eyes. Eowyn is pretty badass...at least in Tolkien's book.

There's no crying in battle!

I am on record as saying I received immense enjoyment from the Peter Jackson LotR films, and that I feel they do an excellent job of staying true to their source material (if you own/watch the Extended Version DVDs...which I do). But while I really, really, REALLY like Miranda Otto in the role of Eowyn, and find her interpretation of the character quite good (along with Jackson's writing, she really helps fill out and bring life to a literary character), I pretty much HATE the direction/depiction of her climactic scene on the Pelennor Fields. What is this: cowering? Is she going to cry or something? And the cheap way she delivers the line, "I am no man" after the Witch-King is already on his knees? What the hell is that? Kicking an enemy when he's down?

The scene in the book shows a stronger, confident character. First off, she calls out the bad guy right from the beginning...she gives him a chance to back off, and lays all the cards on the table, long before the first clash of battle...even before drawing her sword. But here...I'll quote the text, and you tell me what sounds better:

"Begone, foul dwimmerlaik, lord of carrion! Leave the dead in peace!" 

A cold voice answered: "Come not between the Nazgul nd his prey. Or he will not slay thee in thy turn. He will bear thee away to the houses of lamentation, beyond all darkness, where they flesh shall be devoured, and thy shriveled mind be left naked to the Lidless Eye." 

A sword rang as it was drawn. "Do what you will; but I will hinder it, if I may."

"Hinder me? Thou fool. No living man may hinder me!" 

Then Merry heard of all sounds in that hour the strangest. It seemed that Dernhelm laughed, and the clear voice was like the ring of steel. "But no living man am I! You look upon a woman. Eowyn I am, Eomund's daughter. You stand between me and my lord and kin. Begone, if you be not deathless! For living or dark undead, I will smite you, if you touch him."

[see what I'm talking about? this isn't some chica who's in over her head, backed into a corner and just trying to make a stand. She's just as proud and lordly as Aragorn or Theoden or Boromir or any of them. Except, of course, she actually kills something bigger than an orc. She can talk the talk AND walk the walk]

The winged creature screamed at her, but the Ringwraith made no answer, and was silent, as if in sudden doubt. Very amazement for a moment conquered Merry's fear. He opened his eyes and the blackness was lifted from them. There some paces from him sat the great beast, and all seemed dark about it, and above it loomed the Nazgul Lord like a shadow of despair. A little to the left facing them stood she whom he had called Dernhelm. But the helm of her secrecy had fallen from her, and her bright hair, released from its bonds, gleamed with pale gold upon her shoulders. Her eyes grey as the sea were hard and fell, and yet tears were on her cheek. A sword was in her hand, and she raised her shield against the horror of her enemy's eyes...

...Suddenly the great beast beat its hideous wings, and the wind of them was foul. Again it leaped into the air, and then swiftly fell down upon Eowyn, shrieking, striking with beak and claw.

Still she did not blench: maiden of the Rohirrim, child of kings, slender but as a steel-blade, fair but terrible. A swift stroke she dealt, skilled and deadly. The outstretched neck she clove asunder, and the hewn head fell like a stone. Backward she sprang as the huge shape crashed to ruin, vast wings outspread, crumpled on the earth; and with its fall the shadow passed away. A light fell about her, and her hair shone in the sunrise. 

Out of the wreck rose the Black Rider, tall and threatening, towering above her. With a cry of hatred that stung the very ears like venom he let fall his mace. Her shield was shivered in many pieces, and her arm was broken; she stumbled to her knees. He bent over her like a cloud, and his eyes glittered; he raised his mace to kill.

[a few things to notice, here. One is the constant attention Tolkien pays to the Witch-King's eyes, for (aside from the crown floating above his head), nothing other part of the creature's head is visible. This is starkly different from the "empty helmet" (and hollow eyes) of Jackson. Then there's the potency of the Nazgul. In Tolkien's prose there's only two hits: "Me hitting you, you hitting the floor." Jackson's Nazgul swings his ridiculously over-sized flail no less than seven times before finally connecting with Eowyn's shield. It looks silly on screen (again, I say this as a fan of the film trilogy), making a battle between two champions look like...I don't know...a cheesy Kevin Costner-style fight scene. It makes me wince to watch the thing]

But suddenly he too stumbled forward with a cry of bitter pain, and his stroke went wide, driving into the ground. Merry's sword had stabbed him from behind, shearing through the black mantle, and passing up beneath the hauberk had pierced the sinew behind his mighty knee. 

"Eowyn! Eowyn!" cried Merry. Then tottering, struggling up, with her last strength she drove her sword between crown and mantle, as the great shoulders bowed before her. The sword broke sparkling into many shards. The crown rolled away with a clang. Eowyn fell forward upon her fallen foe. But lo! the mantle and hauberk were empty. Shapeless they lay now on the ground, torn and tumbled; and a cry went up into the shuddering air, and faded to a shrill wailing, passing with the wind, a voice bodiless and thin that died, and was swallowed up, and was never heard again in that age of this world.

See, there's no clever repartee from Eowyn once the fight starts...just business. She's "all in" before the Nazgul even decides she's worth his attention (I cut out the bits where he ignores the hobbit for a worm writhing in the mud). It's a classic scene of fantasy literature, that makes me dig the character much more than the weak-sauce portrayal in Jackson's film. This is why I still love those Rankin-Bass  films...in addition to their beautiful animation, they adhere as closely to the text as they can while still being edited for time constraints.

Check out the video here. The dialogue and sequence is near word-for-word perfect.

Anyhoo, LORE of course was never completed, nor even developed to a point suitable for play-testing. But the idea of building a game capable of creating an "Eowyn-like" character is still something in which I'm interested. It's something I'm paying attention to as I work on the new heartbreaker (though, as magic is more prominent, it's unlikely I'll really get there. Hey, it's not supposed to be a LotR role-playing game!).

Just a couple more notes (I know this post is getting long):

Interesting that in Chainmail the Wraith figure can only be slain by another "fantasy character," like the Hero or Super Hero. I suppose Eowyn fits the bill as a "Hero" (she's certainly not the Super Heroic "Conan archetype"), which means she can slay a Nazgul on a 2D6 roll of 12. A pretty legendary task to be sure.

Second, in B/X both wraiths and (the more Nazgul appropriate) spectres are immune to normal weapons, so Eowyn wouldn't have been able to harm them anyway (though, of course, in B/X such creatures don't wield physical weapons, as they certainly do throughout Tolkien's books. Yes, I know, I know...there's a big difference between literature and RPGs. But I'm talking modeling, here, and many features of D&D were modeled after Tolkien's work). Eowyn isn't really an adventurer either (though perhaps she'd like to be one) and might be better modeled by Moldvay's NPC monster, the Noble:

"Noble" is a general term for the lord of a castle and any of his or her relatives.

The noble is is a three hit dice monster with AC 2 (presumably plate & shield) and damage of 1D8 (or per weapon). This would certainly be a good model for Theoden in B/X and probably both Eomer and Eowyn. But I'm just saying...

"Come get some, dwimmerlaik!"