Trying For Dwarves-Sake

I like dwarves. I hate dwarves. I want dwarves in my game. I want all fantasy dwarves I've seen in the last 25 years to burn in their campaign setting's lowest ring of hell.

What exactly is going on here?

When it comes to fantasy mythology there are dwarves and then there are dwarves. I'm inclined to draw a historical delineation across whatever year it was that J.R.R. Tolkien published his Lord of the Rings trilogy. After The Hobbit. Maybe even after The Fellowship of the Ring. Gimli the dwarf, while most assuredly the main culprit responsible for the dwarves downfall from fanciful fairy tale creature to hardened badass warrior wasn't all that bad prior to the Battle of the Hornburg ("Helm's Deep") where his portrayal goes from dwarf companion to "orc-slaying-axe-machine." Where he shows that a dwarf is some kind of melee titan of destruction.

Ugh. Ugh. Ugh,

Okay, just please stop for a second. Lots of folks hate on Tolkien's "vanilla-flavored fantasy" and its influence on D&D. People have been trying to re-skin D&D dwarves in all sorts of ways for years. Gygax's dwarves (see his Gord fiction) have been reviled in some circles, but at least they're deemed to be somewhat different. As an archetype, the D&D dwarf usually ends up looking something like the dwarves in DragonLance...well, they did prior to 3rd edition and the advent of their ascendance as fighters par excellence.

Let's set aside the game for a moment. As a a child, I loved fairy tales. As an adult, I still do...though I'm hard-pressed to find the same sort of magical worlds I did when I was younger (I don't know if this is because of my adult outlook, the lack of decent fairy tale literature at my disposal, or some combination of the two). Fairy tale dwarves...whether they're little miners found in Snow White, sinister wish-granting types like Rumpelstiltskin, or Unseelie faerie-folk...are cool. Even if I set aside my normal shtick of dwarves as inhuman aliens, giving them human-ish traits and personalities (for the purpose of taking up the role of "adventurer"), I like the idea of these little guys with beards that possess their own brand of "earthy" magic. Certainly, all fairy tale dwarves seem to have a "thing" for gold (a relationship with it and ability to produce it, if not the outright avarice depicted in many tales). And "treasure-seeking" has always been the heartbeat the propelled adventurers into the wonder and mysteries of the fantasy RPG.

Well, originally, anyway.

Thorin Oakenshield of Tolkien's The Hobbit is one such adventurer. Yes, he's got human traits...a little arrogance (a sense of self-importance), desires for wealth and revenge, a loyalty to his people and kin, etc. But he's still just a little dwarf. Not a great hero nor a great warrior, though an experienced one. He manages to bash a troll in the face with a log, but he doesn't go armed until after finding an elven sword (and later, after putting on the still-remaing armor of his people lying in Erebor). He has to be told by Gandalf to turn, draw sword, and do battle with the goblins during the dwarves' flight below the Misty Mountains, and it is only the treasure-inspired avarice (and madness) of the dragon hoard that compels him to gird for war against the humans and elves that lay siege to his mountain.

And this is an experienced dwarf...one that fought against the goblins of Moria. The rest of the dwarves in his company are far less fight-worthy, simply fleeing from one opponent after another (as they can), until cornered and compelled to make a stand. These are not warriors. They are not useless, mind you, and they show great courage in facing the perils and travails of their venture (not to mention skill and cunning at times and an ability to loyally stick together even through hardship that might drive them apart). But warriors-born? No.

And this is reflected in the original version of D&D. Men & Magic (volume 1 of the little brown books) allows characters to play dwarves who advance as fighting men with a maximum level of six. 6th level ain't much of a step up from hobbits (er...halflings) or elves, both of whom are limited to 4th level fighting ability. A 4th level fighter uses the exact same save tables as a 6th level fighter; if using the variant combat system presented in OD&D (as opposed to the Chainmail combat system), they have the exact same attack chance (which, incidentally, is the same as a 4th-6th level fighter in B/X). The only advantage a dwarf receives from their two extra levels is an extra 2D6 worth of HPs (plus bonuses if the dwarf has a high CON score). This is nothing compared to the human warriors who can reach the breakpoint of 7th level with its +3 bonus to attacks, +2 to all saves (except dragon breath, which is +3), and an extra D6+1 hit points. And, of course, human fighters have no restriction on levels and can reach those even loftier breakpoints at 10th, 13th, and 16th levels.

Greyhawk (Supplement I) extended dwarves abilities considerably by allowing them to advance to 7th and 8th levels (with a STR score of 17 or 18), as well as allowing dwarves to roll D8s for hit dice. However, the latter isn't that fantastic a bonus...ALL fighting men (including Hobbits and Elves) receive D8s for hit dice in Greyhawk; there was no cursory restriction placed on them for their species as occurred in the later Basic volumes. In many ways, I see Greyhawk as a response to the (perhaps unforeseen) popularity of the game...people were playing a lot of D&D and working their characters characters into the stratosphere, level-wise. These level extensions (along with the unlimited leveling of the Greyhawk-introduced thief class) allowed demihuman PCs to "keep up with the Joneses." A concept (the dwarf) that had been conceptualized in a particular way was slowly morphing into something else.

Consider the dwarf soldier of Chainmail's fantasy armies. The dwarf figure is very much of Thorin's ilk: a 2 point figure, it attacks as Heavy Foot, but only defends as Light Foot. Against giant-sized humanoids (specifically trolls/ogres and giants) they only count half the number of kills (they are twice as hard for the big guys to catch). The only other advantage they have is an ability to function equally well in night and day, and they are drawn to immediately charge/attack goblins, regardless of orders. They are also slower than normal heavy foot (who also cost 2 points to field). Oh...and their morale is no greater than normal heavy footmen.

Yes, they hit hard with their two-handed mauls and axes, but these are not thick-skinned, iron-boned juggernauts; they break easier than men (except when their size gives them an advantage; i.e. versus the "big guys"). They are not "heroic," possessing none of the elves' ability to affect fantasy monsters when armed with magic swords. They're just little fantasy soldiers...though well-modeled by Tolkien standards (if you're just looking at The Battle of Five Armies).

Holmes Basic doesn't address dwarves past level three, but it does "nerf" elves and halflings by reducing their HD to D6s for no given reason. My assumption is that this is a simplification based on the ubiquity of multi-classed fighter-thieves (halflings) and fighter-mages (elves) making "D6" an average of the D8+D4 that these class combos carry. But that's just speculation. Thing is, it ends up having the effect of making dwarves look hardy in comparison to their fellow demihumans...equal to the superior human fighting-man...which wasn't the case before.

[hmm...okay, just perused my Holmes and I do see reasons given for the HP reduction: elves because of their class-mix, but halflings due to their "small size;" though this is in spite of the halfling having the same CON requirements of a dwarf and the same saving throw bonuses. To me, that says "equal stamina" and simply allow the extra levels allow the dwarf fighter to outpace the halfer...but that's just me]

"Our build might be the same, but I get an extra two hit points thanks to my nose and beard, you fool!"

AD&D comes next and here we just see the logical progression of power increase six years into play: dwarves now have a "natural" level restriction of 7 (not six) and can reach as high as 9 (not 8) with an 18 strength. Considering fighter breakpoints for attacks/saves went from every three levels to every two levels in AD&D, this is a considerable improvement in fighting ability for our little fairy tale miners. Unearthed Arcana (1985) took this farther with the inclusion of "mountain dwarves:" a superior brand of dwarf with superior fighting ability based on...well, who cares.

[actually, "mountain dwarves" as a concept of superior dwarfness was introduced in the 1977 Monster Manual. Released prior to the AD&D PHB, it presumably works off the earlier (OD&D) books, as it states that mountain dwarves are superior and can work up to 9th level with an 18 STR. In other words, it appears the dwarves of the PHB are "mountain dwarves" while the dwarves of the LBBs are the inferior "hill dwarves." Unfortunately, this appears to be contradicted in the AD&D text, first by the PHB (who states PC dwarves may equally be either of the hills or the mountains) and then by the already mentioned new rules in the Unearthed Arcana]

Next we come to B/X which gives dwarves the ability to advance to level 12, flying in the face of all that's gone before. I can only assume this is an early attempt at "game balance," as a 12th level dwarf is remarkably similar to a 14th level human fighter (the maximum printed level in the B/X books). Maximum hit points are only one point off from the human fighter at level 14, and a slightly lesser attack ability is balanced by superior saves and additional special abilities. Where the idea of a 12th level fighting dwarf came from is totally beyond my ken...this is double Gygax's original 6th level limit. Crazy.

Tordek. I hate this asshole.

But not as crazy as the 21st century dwarf. Since the advent of D20, dwarves have become the archetypal fighter of latter edition D&D (including Pathfinder). A CON bonus that adds to staying power (particularly since HP bonuses from CON don't "cap" as they do in earlier editions), at the cost of dump-stat CHA? Sure they lose the bonus feat of the human fighter, but their darkvision ability, racial saving throw bonuses (equivalent to feat save bonuses), stackable dodge bonuses, heavy armor movement, exotic weapons, and racial attack bonuses makes them first choice for a badass fighter. Whereas Thorin and Company lamented the fact that they hadn't brought along a "hero" to slay the dragon, any such dragon slayer hired in D20 would have a high percentage of being from the line of Durin.

[since when did humans get upstaged in the arena of bloody warfare? I mean, isn't that humankind's claim to fame...killing folks? We used to be bigger, stronger, and better than it than any other species in the D&D game world...now we've been relegated to the role of "utilitarian dude." Oh, yeah...you get a bonus a skill point every level and can treat any class as "favored," but you run in 3rd place behind dwarves and half-orces when it comes to fighting prowess]

20th level dwarf fighters. Bite me.

And yet, this is now the expectation. "I want to play a dwarf" is the phrase heard by the player who wants a tough as nails, badass fighter. Even in B/X play, where a dwarf's level is capped (at 12!) it's not an unusual request, because it's so rare for campaign play these days to progress beyond the point where the demihumans lose viability. It's not impossible, mind you...just unlikely. Folks these days have a lot more to distract them from the table-top gaming experience than they did in the old days.

So what's the point of this post? Is it that I hate this expectation? That I want to somehow derail it (or kick its teeth in) so people don't have it? That ain't very likely to happen. Do I want to go back to a time when dwarves were stilted at 6th level and were barely mechanically different from hobbits? If I wanted that, I could just play OD&D (or Swords & Wizardry...I own copies of both).

No. I guess I just want to say that dwarves...fairy tale, fantasy dwarves, an archetype that I love...have been completely ruined for me. They simply don't fit into any RPG that I want to play, no matter how interestingly they might be re-skinned. They just don't fit for me, not in any version of the game (D&D) that I'm interested in running/playing. The Lord of the Rings isn't a sandbox world of adventure. The Hobbit isn't much of one either. Both are good reads (the latter more so, for my money), but they aren't suitable to the type of gaming I have in mind. Maybe if dwarves took over the niche currently reserved for the B/X halfling (i.e. re-skin the "halfling" class as a bearded little dwarf)? Maybe. Then again, didn't I already re-skin halflings to get a wood elf class? Maybe I need to have one "catch-all" demihuman class with options to build the weird little fey of your choice...elf, hobbit, dwarf, whatever. But my most recent fantasy projects haven't had settings of the fairy tale variety...so why bother?

*sigh* I need to go to bed. I've got a loooong three days ahead of me.

"What? You expected a resolution to this mess?"

Changing Stations

First thing's first: congrats to the New England Patriots for their win in the Super Bowl. The dark elves took advantage of our injury-laden defense to take the lead in the 4th quarter, but it was the great play by undrafted rookie, Malcolm Butler that really snatched victory from the Seahawks. MVP Tom Brady (who was out-dueled by Russell Wilson for most of the day...even with the last minute pick, Wilson finished with a higher QBR and passer rating) was nice enough to give his free pick-up truck (the MVP prize) to Butler for his part in helping Tom achieve another championship ring.

[I know a lot of Seahawks fans...including myself...were distressed at the passing play called on 2nd down at the end of the game that led to Butler's interception. However, it wasn't a terrible call to pass due to the time remaining in the game. The more egregious issues was the burning of time outs leading up to that play, the specific play-call itself, AND the execution of the play by the players. In this regard, it was much more of a "team fail" than the fault of a single offensive coordinator]

Dark elves: smart, if sometimes underhanded.

Okay...now to the gaming stuff. Kind of.

I've been thinking a lot about princes and princesses the last few days. Princesses especially. As the father of a small girl-child (she's nine months old), the amount of clothing and toys and books and whatnot aimed as little girls that is "princess-themed" is just...ugh. Ugh.

[Lego actually has a line of "girl-oriented" sets that are NOT princess themed and that explore a lot of cool female characters, but A) they're a bit old for either of my children at this point, and B) I've never been big into Lego. But I might go that way if the market looks the same five years from now. Those Monster High dolls are still "princesses," just ones of the horror variety]

In a way, I suppose, it's a triumph of creativity that people can continue to find ways to rehash the princess theme...Disney's made their bread and butter on variations of the princess film for decades.

[by the way, I know we all love Pixar, but out of their fourteen feature films we have exactly one with a female protagonist? That would be Merida of the film Brave...and, yes, she's a princess]

ANYway...while princesses and princes and their travails are well-known in fantasy fiction (fairy tales, film, literature), they don't appear all that much in RPGs...at least not as playable character types. Being a member of royalty? Not really an option in D&D. It kind of defeats the whole purpose of the "adventuring thing:" your characters are supposed to be poor folk (well, poorer folk) out seeking their fortunes in the wide, dangerous world. The player characters may aspire to join the ranks of nobility by achieving great wealth (and being granted lands and titles upon reaching sufficient level) but the chances they'll ever become royalty themselves are pretty slim.

Which, when you think about it, is pretty strange considering the wealth of fantasy and folklore involving this exact subject which (presumably) D&D and its ilk is somewhat drawn from. Whether you're talking about Perseus or Cinderella or King Arthur or Aragorn or Taran the Assistant Pig-Keeper or Shrek, there's always someone changing their station from commoner/outsider to royal ruler. Changing one's station (for the better) is often the objective of the story or a driving force of the plot, generally through a combination of their own actions/decision-making and the (authorial) Hand of Destiny. More than half of the stories that make up the "Disney Princess" franchise incorporate one person (either the princess herself or her male love interest) being elevated to the ranks of royalty through marriage.

But that was the fairy tale. In the pre-modern era, there wasn't a whole lot one could do to change one's birth rank...social mobility was a lot more difficult and the amount of movement (up or down) much smaller. And to be in the echelons of the wealthy and pampered (I think nearly all humans, at one time or another have wished for the comfort that comes with money) being royalty...or at least nobility...was really the only way to go. Most wealth was derived from being a land-owner, something restricted to the upper ranks, and while one could (and did) go pillage a richer town or nation for an extra cash infusion, such actions were generally under the purview of those who could afford to hire a fighting force, i.e. the same royal/noble folks deriving money from their lands.

The premise of D&D certainly falls on the more "magical" end of the story spectrum (rather than the "historical"), providing a means of achieving wealth other than soaking the peasants and tenants for taxes: treasure-finding. But this idea...of finding and securing secret or hidden wealth...is pretty anachronistic. It is a 19th century concept, based in stories like Treasure Island and The Count of Monte Christo...stories in which characters were able to elevate their station by digging up sufficient hidden wealth (through their courage and ingenuity) that others were unable to do. In a way, it is allegorical of the increase in social mobility (or what we might call today "The American Dream") through "hard work." But that's not the standard fantasy fare associated with magic and fairies and dragons.

[even though one might find a pot of gold or golden goose or dragon hoard in an old fairy tale, it was usually only a means to an end...like using it to buy into the royal family (i.e. marrying the princess) and becoming royalty]

People might believe that "treasure-hunting" is as old as the colonization...that 16th century conquistadors were looting lost tombs and ancient temples for treasure. Such was not the case...what the Spanish engaged in was the same type of war and conquest that Europeans had waged against each other since before Roman times. The treasure being pulled from the New World was not "lost" or "secret" but booty and plunder of the same type the Templars brought back from the Middle East. It was wealth taken from living nations and living people, not gold secreted in hidden caves and subterranean passages.

No, the idea of discovering "non-owned treasure" like that from a buried pirate chest or being held by an illegitimate owner (dragons and monsters and brigands) is a 19th (and early 20th) century concept...it's Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn, not Beowulf. It's a modern fairy tale placed in a pseudo-medieval setting, a strange juxtaposition upon reflection, and perhaps the reason I find the premise of D&D so at odds with my idea of what fantasy (in the fairy tale-esque sense) "should" be.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to catch-up on the most recent Downton Abbey episodes.
; )

[sorry this took a couple days to post...school starts again on the 16th and I should have more time for blogging then]

Considering Witches

Didn't have much time yesterday (don't have much time today, either). I'm still considering what would be the "set spell lists" or even the choice of "schools" should I go that route (as discussed a couple days ago). In other words, haven't made any progress on dismantling the magic system already written for the new fantasy heartbreaker.

Maybe it's because (subconsciously?) I think it's a bad idea? Maybe.

But flavor...I like flavor. Flavor is important. It makes a game tasty. Without flavor, you might have a robust game system, chock-full of nutritious, caloric-value (just to carry an analogy too far), but I want more than that. I'm not trying to create Hero System: Fantasy or GURPS: Wizards or something. Too bland for my taste. The idea of different schools of magic is flavorful.

Anyhoo...part of the reason I didn't do any work/writing yesterday is that I was again perusing old Dragon magazines. In this case, I was reading every article I could find on witches and witchcraft (for those who're curious that includes issues #5, #20, #43, and #114). I didn't have access to these issues back when I wrote up a "B/X Witch" for The Complete B/X Adventurer...but even if I had, I'm not sure I would've used much of the stuff here.  Certainly not the gemstone level titles (a little too Amway-esque)...not sure where that idea came from. Maybe some of the more interesting NPC spells from issue #5; some of those are pretty cool.

[strange there's no author attached to that article. Wonder if anyone ever figured out the writer]

The point is, maybe because it's so close to Halloween, I've got witches on the mind. I dig the concept of witch mythology (the fantasy witch if you will) - both good and bad - and wouldn't mind seeing something witch-like in the new heartbreaker. The problem is, how to do it without being offensive to folks. 

I remember Long's book with much fondness.

Modern witches, for those who don't know, are very different from the critters you find in classic fantasy literature... whether you're talking The Wizard of Oz or Narnia or those old school Halloween masterpieces. They're very different from the witches portrayed on television and 21st century film, too...but that's not the kind of witch I'm interested in (the witches of Charmed or whatnot are meant for a  different RPG than D&D and its ilk). Nor am I talking about the Satanic, Black Mass coven-types of B-horror films, either.

For me, "old school" witches are more fun than frightening...even if the bad ones do (on occasion) eat children. From Baba Yaga and The Old Sea Hag to the beautiful Circe or Morgan Le Fey...the solitary witch is what I'm talking about. That chick in the first Conan movie or Glenda of Oz. In many ways, they are the female equivalent of the solitary sorcerer: someone who has removed herself from society (generally, by her own choosing) in order to practice her craft. Perhaps out of the (real medieval) fear of being burned at the stake by one's neighbors.

When these Halloween-y witches get together at all, it's only once a year or every seven years or every century (depending on the story) to celebrate in a big brouhaha (bruja-ha?), otherwise staying out of each other's way unless engaged in some petty rivalry or magical dispute. Apart from these occasional gatherings of celebrated solidarity, these "fantasy witches" are private individuals, opting out of any sort of politics, mundane or magical. Any "Queen of Witches" title is more honorary (or a straight recognition of power) than an actual office to which other witches owe "fealty." I daresay the term might be one designed to poke fun at Earthly feudal titles...the witches are, after all, opting out of standard patriarchal society.

Ah, vinyl. In rotation every Halloween.

Does that all make sense? I'm not trying to be offensive here, I'm talking about a tradition of folklore and fiction. I'm not trying to "perpetuate stereotypes" of witches, I'm talking about enjoying some of those stereotypes in a fun fashion...and a little Grimm-dark fantasy to a fantasy adventure game.

Still, maybe that doesn't fly with some folks. Certainly, I've put my "pulp B/X adventure" game on-hold indefinitely because, no matter how one slices it, any game that includes "savages" (or even "natives") is going to tick someone off. It's borrowing from fiction that was created at a time when Colonialism and white privilege was "okay" (and being packaged and sold to folks of a white privilege persuasion). The pagan persecutions and witch-burnings of earlier centuries was also deemed "okay" at the time, and that is where the majority of our folklore on the subject (with its "wicked witches") comes from. If I do a "for fun" version of witches that buys into that folklore, I may be perpetuating harmful perspectives that some people will apply to real world witches and pagans (both present day and historical).

Ugh. Ugh. Ugh.

I don't want to offend folks. I don't want to contribute to ignorance. And I don't want to include "disclaimers" in my writing...it wouldn't be a big enough section of the game to warrant such singular treatment (in my opinion), anyway.

Am I making too much out of this? People don't worry how elves or wizards are portrayed in RPGs because we consider these to be fictional creations...magic is considered fictional in general and real life hermetic magicians are considered delusional by most of the population (similarly, no one worries about offending people of the "Jedi Religion"). I don't think dwarves are offensive to little people, as they are based on a fairy race of Norse mythology. But witches...well, a lot of people really  did get tortured and murdered back in the day for their non-Christian beliefs. Real people. And there are plenty of real people today that consider themselves witches, though they don't sport pointy hats and green skin. Making light of the history is a bit like making a game where your intrepid explorers (*ahem*) shoot "savages" (pick a continent). And running with folklore that demonized a particular group of individuals is kind of "making light," no?

Maybe I'M just overly sensitive. But, well, that's what I'm thinking about today. More later, I'm sure.

It's not easy being green.

Chop! Dragon Breath (Part 4)

[continued from here; last one, I promise!]

So, then, we come to the big question: how does one do battle with such a monster?

I spent a couple-few days reviewing various dragon slayings in (non-D&D) film and fiction, and compiled a short list for review:

1. Unnamed dragon (from Beowulf). Slayer: Beowulf (with Wiglaf). Method: multiple (four) sword strikes. Result: Beowulf mortally wounded by dragon fire.
2. Vermithrax Pejorative (from Dragonslayer). Slayer: Ulrich (with Galen). Method: suicide bombing (via magic). Result: Ulrich sacrifices himself.
3. Bryagh (from Flight of Dragons film). Slayer: Sir Orrin. Method: (thrown) sword to creature's chest. Result: Orrin mortally wounded by dragon fire.
4. Maur (from The Hero and the Crown). Slayer: Aerin Red-Hair. Method: dagger plunged through eye (up to shoulder) into brain. Result: badly maimed by dragon fire with lingering mortal wound.
5. Smaug (from The Hobbit): Slayer: Bard of Esgaroth. Method: dwarf-forged arrow to creature's chest. Result: Esgaroth ("Lake-Town") is destroyed in fiery conflagration.
6. Lambton Worm (from folklore). Slayer: John Lambton. Method: multiple sword wounds in river preventing regeneration (river washed away pieces). Result: Lambton family cursed to untimely deaths for nine generations.
7. Glaurung (from The Silmarillion). Slayer: Turin Turambar. Method: sword wound to underbelly from hideyhole. Result: Turin was fine but dragon's final curse loses him his sister/wife and unborn child (and leads Turin to commit suicide).
8. Maleficent (from Sleeping Beauty). Slayer: Prince Phillip. Method: (thrown) sword to creature's chest. Result: no damage (thanks to magic Shield of Virtue).
9. Unnamed crocodile (from legend of St. George). Slayer: George of Lydda. Method: lance charge from horseback. Result: nothing thanks to Christian devotion.
10. Fafnir (from Volsunga). Slayer: Sigurd. Method: sword stab to left shoulder from below, while hiding in ditch. Result: Sigurd gains magical powers, but is cursed for taking dragon's treasure (and things go downhill from there, eventually leading to untimely death).

There are some commonalities in the majority of these stories. Firstly, the battle with a dragon is most often a solitary one. Even when a hero brings an army or entourage, they're chickening out long before the showdown with the beast. You can chock this up to magical "dragon fear" (a la Dragonlance by way of the 1st edition Monster Manual), but big monsters are just too much for non-heroic types to handle. And they're ineffective to boot: the arrows of Bard's guardsmen simply bounce off of Smaug's scaly hide. In Dragonslayer we are told that when King Gaiseric went against Vermithrax with "his best company of fighters," none came back alive. This doesn't mean that a hero can't have aid in slaying the dragon...and D&D is a game of multiple protagonists...but it's something to be considered.

Secondly, in almost every case, the slaying of the dragon is only accomplished with sacrifice and/or at great cost. Four of the heroes listed are left dying as a direct result of the wounds they suffer while fighting the dragon. Three are subject to curses received as a result of killing the monster. Only Bard, Phillip, and St. George escape personally unscathed, but Bard's entire town is destroyed and its people left as refugees. As for Phillip's fight...well, it's a 1959 Disney film for children and not actually based on real folklore (there's no dragon in Little Briar Rose). Meanwhile, St. George doesn't even face dragon fire...I should probably have left it off the list.

[perhaps I should have listed Niner and King Roland from Stephen King's The Eyes of the Dragon, but while Niner is majestic and fire-breathing, he is still treated as a beast to be hunted not a monster of epic proportion]

In every case (except with poor ol' Vermithrax), it takes a piercing weapon to do the job. A good axe can take a chunk out of a thick tree, but not one wrapped in steel-strong hide. Often, magical aid is helpful in getting the job done. Phillip gets a lot of fairy help, not the least of which are his magic sword and shield.

In nearly every case (except The Hobbit) the slaying of the dragon is accomplished from close range. This has the unfortunate propensity of exposing the hero to the monster's breath weapon which...unless protected by magic (Galen, Phillip)...is absolutely deadly. The heroes doing the slaying are usually already cooked, and it is only their inherent grit (Orrin, Aerin, Beowulf) that allows them to deliver the death blow. Otherwise, some form of stealth may allow the hero (Turin, Sigurd) to strike while delivering the hero from physical damage...but really what's the bottom line, here? 'Cause this series has already lasted too long for a single saving throw...

With these things in mind, let's consider how to restructure combat for dragons.

[oh, what...you don't like special "dragon combat rules?" Why not? Every D&D editions always included special combat mechanics when fighting dragons. They're a different beast]

"My armor is like tenfold shields..." --Smaug

A dragon has a defensive class ("ascending armor class") equal to ten plus its hit dice, at least in B/X (a red dragon has 10 HD, for a DC of 20; this is the equivalent of the dragon's listed AC of -1. The white dragon has 6 HD, and a DC of 16...four less than the red and again equivalent to a B/X AC of 3). But while the DC is what must be "rolled over" for a successful attack, it doesn't tell the whole story. You can't kill a dragon with a mace or an axe or even a war hammer...its hide is too thick and much too hard. You must use a long, piercing blade: a spear, long sword, lance, pike, etc. that can be stabbed between scales or into vulnerable areas, like the eyes.

From The Hero and The Crown (McKinley, 1984):

"It is customary today to hunt the dragon with arrow and thrown spear; but if one of the Great Ones comes again, this will avail his attacker little. As their size has diminished, so has their armament; a well-thrown spear may pierce a small dragon anywhere it strikes. The Great Ones had only two vulnerable spots that might be depended upon: at the base of the jaw where the narrow head joins the long neck; and behind the elbow, from whence the wings sprout. Dragons are, as I have said, nimble; it is most unlikely that a Great One would be so foolish as to lower its head or its wings to make an easy mark. A great hero only may slay a Great One; one who by skill and courage may draw close enough to force the fatal blow."

If you want to allow PCs to nickel-and-dime dragons, then allow magical weapons (only) to inflict a maximum amount of damage equal to their magical bonus (only) with a successful attack. They are otherwise only inflicting pinpricks on a dragon with their feeble attacks: they are mosquitos to its hide...simply irritants (and that's with a successful attack). For actual methods of slaying a dragon, we must turn back to Chainmail.

Chainmail provides two means by which a heroic fighter (a Hero or Super Hero) may defeat a dragon: fantasy melee or the (much easier) "shoot-it-down-with-an-arrow-when-it-flies-overhead" method. We'll forget the latter (for the moment...we'll come back to it), because we're not trying to model the singular Bard the Bowman (and making such a method easier is the surest way to turn a unique situation commonplace). So instead, we'll look at melee:

A Super Hero (8th level fighter equivalent) slays a (Great Red) dragon on a 2D6 roll of 11+, and drives it back on a 10. A Hero (4th level fighter equivalent) slays a dragon on a 2D6 roll of 13+, and drives it back on a 12. Note that it is impossible for a Hero to kill a dragon unless armed with a magic sword (which gives a bonus to the roll). A Super Hero escapes death by dragon fire on a 2D6 roll of 7+.

Okay, now lets convert those percentages to D20 rolls (since neither B/X, nor my new heartbreaker, use 2D6 as their standard mechanic).

A Super Hero can slay a dragon on a D20 roll of 19+. That 11+ on 2D6 is about an 8.5% chance of success. Rolling a 19+ on a D20 is a 10% chance, but I'm willing to give a little extra. A Super Hero is the equivalent of an 8th level fighter (+8 to melee attack rolls in my game), meaning the PC has hit a target of 27 (19+8) to slay the dragon. What is a 27 when compared to a red dragon's aforementioned DC of 20?

A perfect strike from a strong (13+ STR) person.

Remember that in my "revised combat system" every rollover point equals 1 point of damage inflicted by a PC. Swords and spears only inflict a maximum of six points (though that maximum can be increased by strong characters, or enchantment). To inflict 7 points (a perfect thrust of greater than average strength) requires an attack roll seven over the DC of the opponent.

A 4th level fighter (the equivalent of Chainmail's Hero) cannot achieve this result against a red dragon. She needs something extra...like a sword +1, +3 versus dragons.

Sorry, Galen...it ain't happening.

The D20 roll for a Super Hero to escape a blast of dragon fire is 9 or better (a 60% chance...a skosh more than the 58.3% of 7+ on 2D6). Of course, we want ALL player characters to have a chance to escape dragon fire, not just the 8th level ones, so we work backwards from here: PC must rollover 16 to avoid dragon fire; add level to roll. There that was easy enough. The arc of a dragon's breath weapon isn't enough to catch more than one or two PCs at a time if they stay spread out and harry the monster from multiple sides. Tactics become important here, since the breath weapon equals death. A magic shield might add its bonus to this roll...if it's a big enough shield.

Ah, but what if you've got to kill a dragon and there're no 8th level warriors in the party and you're totally willing to sacrifice yourself heroically? Good question! I'm doing away with the rules for subduing a dragon (duh) and instead instituting something I like to call "Going for the Kill!" One PC of the party can draw the dragon's attention and ire and get all close-and-personal...as opposed to dancing around hoping to hit the jackpot roll while avoiding dragon breath. When you "Go for the Kill!" you receive a +5 bonus to your attack roll, meaning even a 4th level character can slay a Great Red with an 18+ roll (18+4+5=27). Interestingly enough, this improves your chances to the same as if you used the "shoot dragon's underbelly with bow" rule from Chainmail: 15% for Heroes, and 35% for Super Heroes (40% with a high Agility score). See? Told you we'd come back to that!

Going for the kill is not all wine and roses, however. By (pretty much) challenging the dragon to single-combat and getting in close, you will be subjected to dragon fire. That means no "rollover save" to avoid the flames...the PC isn't trying to avoid the flames, she's trying to deliver a death blow. The mechanic works like this: you must announce you're "going for the kill" before rolling initiative. If you lose initiative, or if you miss your attack roll, then your character is bacon...or, at least, mortally wounded (I believe I mentioned before a little resource called "grit?" It allows characters to fight on after being mortally wounded, which means you can see a Beowulf or Sir Orrin type combat, where the hero still slays the dragon despite being slain himself). It's tough...but that's the price you pay to be a hero.

[regarding the possibility of magical curses and whatnot, I leave it up to individual DM's to decide how magical and fairy tale nasty they want their campaign setting to be]

All right, this was a lot longer than I intended it to be. Thanks for sticking with it. I'll get to chopping the last saving throw a lot sooner...probably tomorrow (and that post should be a lot shorter). Oh, on the subject of magic...specifically, how PC magic-users can use their powers to slay dragons...my inclination is to again refer back to Chainmail, where magic just doesn't affect the monsters (fireballs and lightning bolts just drive 'em back "one space"). You might arrange to have some sort of suicide explosion spell like Ulrich uses in Dragonslayer, but magic in my own heartbreaker is going to be a bit more on the "understated" side, anyway. If you want to kill a dragon, get a lance...or a very long sword.
: )

Chop! Turn to Stone

[continuation from long post here]

Turning someone to stone just by looking at 'em is a rare gift indeed. So rare that, prior to the advent of Dungeons & Dragons, I know of only one creature in mythology or folklore that had petrification as a natural ability: the three gorgon sisters, of which Medusa was one.

No, basilisks do not turn people to stone, unless you mean in the Old English sense of "dead as stones." The cockatrice doesn't either, despite its Wikipedia entry (it cites page 186 of a poorly reviewed eBook fantasy novel as its "source" for this ability). The "gorgon" bull-creature was derived from a misnamed account of the catoblepas, and given its stoning power by Gygax (as actual folkloric depictions of the the catoblepas simply has a "death gaze" like basilisks).

"I'm practically a demigod!"

Medusa (from which the monster of the same name was derived), was a singular creature. Yes, she had two sister gorgons in mythology but, of the three, only Medusa was mortal and thus killable by the mythic hero, Perseus. And you know what? He did just that. Thus ended the threat of monsters with the power to petrify (unless you wanted to take a trip to "Gorgon Island" to look up Medusa's immortal siblings).

There are depictions in fantasy and folklore of magicians turning folks to stone, and I'll be happy to address that in the spell section of this series (coming up!). But monsters turning people to stone is something that doesn't need to be modeled...and thus no saving throw is necessary.

Now, if you really, really, REALLY must have gorgons (like Medusa) in your fantasy game, I understand it. But you still don't need the saving throw. What would such a save represent? The hero saying, "Must...not...turn...to...stone!" And they get so much better at it as they go up in level?

That's how D&D 3.5 (and presumably Pathfinder) represented it...as a Fortitude save. "My 7th level fighter is resisting her petrifying visage?" What? How? "By being extra tough...he has control over the very molecular structure of his body and he's saying, 'Don't calcify, cells!'" Certainly Perseus (a high level fighter and Zeus's son) could have stared her down if such was the case.

No, clearly this is one of those examples of: if you're going to bother to put it in the game, then let it work. The PLAYERS are going to need to come up with ideas/alternatives for beating such a creature...as did Perseus...something besides, "well, I'll just tough it out with a saving throw." You're going to have to fight blindfolded, or use a mirror...either with a substantial penalty to your attack roll. Or else, try to sneak up on the thing when its sleeping (hoping that it's back is turned to you). Depending on the tactic used, the penalty might be more or less (though possibly with a percentage chance of accidentally catching a peek of the creature when embroiled in melee).

Creatures that have these types of auto-kill attack...because that's what they essentially are (you need a 6th level spell to bring 'em 'back to life,' as opposed to the 5th level raise dead, but even so)...should only enter into a campaign setting with some pretty substantial clues to tip off characters' cleverness.  How was a basilisk's "death gaze" defeated in mythology? By carefully placing mirrors about the creature's lair while it was sleeping. But its body is deadly poison as well...best handle it only with thick gauntlets.

If the banshee's wail causes death, best stuff your ears with cotton (or strips ripped from your tunic).

These are the kinds of tricks players routinely come up with. Good DMs don't let the rules get in the way of a good player idea...but then not every DM is "good," and not every player is inclined towards thinking "outside the box." Don't give 'em an excuse not to: get rid of this saving throw and let the chips fall where they may.

*CHOP*

[oh, just a quick side note: I see at least one reader thinks these posts are "shite," based on the box he/she checked. However, I don't really see any negative views expressed in the comments section. Not trying to call you out, pal, but I would certainly welcome your  dissenting opinion...just an FYI. Being told I'm wrong and why doesn't bother me all that much. Sometimes it even changes my mind]

Chop! Magic Wands

[this is "Part 2" in a series of getting rid of saving throws in my new fantasy heartbreaker. You can look at the formative thoughts on this weird concept here and here. Part 1 can be found here]

Nothing says "old school fantasy" like a bearded wizard with a pointy hat and magic wand. It's iconic...and not just because it used to be TSR's logo. Well, maybe because of that. But look at all the wand-waving illustrations you find in those old books. Pointy hats and magic wands have the highest ratio of pix-to-page count in Holmes, but Moldvay's not far behind (it just seems like more in Holmes because there are so few illustrations in general). And the DMG has plenty, too.

I really dislike magic wands.

And I'm not just talking about their depiction in film and fiction. Apologies to all the folks who grew up loving Harry Potter: while I've read the books and seen the films I've never been terribly impressed by Rowling's work. And I intensely dislike most of the depictions of the "magical world;" it's like the worst of Glantri, where magic becomes so common that there's little "magical" about it. If we're talking about "wands" in the Harry Potter sense, I'd have to say I hate magic wands.

But in D&D, I've never been a big fan of the magic wand. What is it, but a gun that shoots spells (a gun with no trigger)? A quiver with up to 100 magic arrows (at least in AD&D)? Just another resource to keep track of, except that it's on the DM to track it because the PC isn't supposed to know how many charges are in it.

My experience with wands back in "the ol' days" is that by the time a wand was found, identified, and its activation words discovered, the magic-user was so powerful that he (or, rarely, she) would often forget to even use the thing, instead relying on his own spells. Just an extra piece of encumbrance. The only wand that saw much use was the wand of wonder, because it was fun to see what random weirdness would spring from its end. But even that was usually left holstered during any real combat or crisis.

Perhaps if wands were more like, I don't know, historic or mythological wands...more magical, as opposed to a 10-shot roman candle. Rare items, like Circe's wand (that turns folks to animals - no charges) or even the White Witch of Narnia's wand (that turns folks to stone - no charges). Dangerous things; things of power. Things not to be trifled with.

Traditionally, wands are part of ritual magic, representative of the life principle or the initiation of action. The wand of the magician is a symbol of the magician's authority over nature...like the scepter of a king (though like the magician's magic itself, one easily concealed from the eyes of the mundane). Ars Magica uses wands (and staffs) as an extension of the wizard's own magic power...literally (touching someone with your wand is the same as touching someone with your hand). But the wand itself isn't inherently magical, unless the magician transforms it into a talisman.

Anyway, I'm not a fan of the D&D wand. In fact, I'm tempted to axe them completely from the fantasy heartbreaker unless I can think of a way to make them more interesting. Five Ancient Kingdoms doesn't include wands like what you find in D&D...but then, 5AK doesn't restrict wizards'  magic in the same way as D&D. Part of the reason wands work the way they do in D&D (I assume) is to act as extra spell repositories for magic-users whose magic is limited. If you have a wand of light, you don't need to carry a light spell. If you have a wand of fireballs, it frees you up to carry other 3rd level spells (like water breathing and fly).

But, hey...this is a post about the Magic Wands saving throw, right? Sure it's easy to *CHOP* such a save if you remove wands from the game, but I'm not certain that I'm going to do that...yet. And while I may remove them as the mechanic they are in D&D, that doesn't mean they won't make some other appearance, right? And then the question of a saving throw comes up again. So let's talk about it.

Why the hell is there a separate saving throw for magic wands?

Chainmail, from which it appears D&D draws its saving throw concept, doesn't have "magic wands" (unless you want to say that's what wizards' auto-cast fireballs and lightning bolts represent). OD&D is the first place you see a the Wands saving throw ("All Wands - Including Polymorph or Paralyzation" is the title of the save). OD&D includes the following magic wands in Book 2:

• Metal Detection
• Enemy Detection
• Magic Detection
• Secret Doors & Trap Detection
• Illusion
• Fear **
• Cold **
• Paralization [sic] **
• Fire Balls **
• Lightning Bolts **
• Polymorph **
• Negation

Only the wands listed with an "**" would appear to receive saving throws, all of which would seem to be those that generate a cone or ray or target a single victim (polymorph). I can only assume that the reason for the saving throw versus wands (as opposed to using a more general "save versus magic") is that the saving throw represents the PC executing some sort of dodge maneuver against the wielder of the wand.

In other words, the wand is like a laser gun and YOU, Flash Gordon, must some how duck-n-roll for cover.

"A La Peanut Butter Sandwiches!"

Not only is this ridiculously cartoony (in the Saturday Morning Cartoon sense)...even if this IS the kind of cartoony action you want to model in your game (which is, of course, your prerogative), than Why O Why is it limited to magic wands? Why can't your action heroes dodge arrows and thrown spears and giants' boulders...all those other missiles that PRESUMABLY approach a character slower than a *ZAP* ray from your magic ray gun?

Don't tell me it's easier to dodge a flash of lightning than a hurled dagger. And don't tell me you're "dodging the wand, not the ray" (that's what my old Palladium folks used to use as a justification for dodging a laser: "you're dodging the gun")...fine, then, why can't you dodge the crossbow?

What it feels like (to me, anyway) is that the designers said: 'Well, shooting a laser...er, fireball...at someone with a wand should require some sort of attack roll.' 'But how protective against a blast of cold is plate mail (since the alternative combat system of OD&D determines target number by armor worn)?' 'Oh, yeah, not very. Ummm...let's add an ALTERNATE alternate system where the target is automatically hit, but can reduce or eliminate the effect with a successful dodge roll.' 'Yeah! Save versus wand!'

Something like that.

Regardless of whether or not I include magic wands in my new game, they are certainly not going to be magic ray-guns packing a battery pack. If they have a magical effect that needs to be resisted...well, we'll deal with that in a later post. Otherwise, there's no more need to have a "dodge" roll for wands than I need to have a "dodge" roll for the longbow. We already have a combat system that determines effectiveness of attacks.

*CHOP*

Cacodemon

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.

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?

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:

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 1^st 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 1^st edition PHB called cacodemon…not sure how many of you are familiar with it. It’s a 7^th 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 7^th level spell, requiring a 14^th level character to cast it. And most 14^th 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 7^th 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 4^th 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:

-        Magicians should have enough knowledge to be (magically) effective throughout a game session.

-        Magicians should be old geezers and crones by default…unless you want to play someone young and not very knowledgeable/proficient.

-        Magicians shouldn’t over-shadow the other characters. Magic cannot solve every problem.

-        Magic has limitations and/or hazards; there are reasons for not using magic all the time.

-        Magic is not Vancian.

-        Magic is not confined to individuals who possess a special “magic gene.”

-        Magic is not artillery…or only in very limited circumstances.

-        Magic use requires secret knowledge.

-        Magic use requires belief and conviction.

I’ll be building from there. More on all this later.

"Come forth, Mephisto!"