I hate Spell Lists

Ok, maybe that's too much. I have, as a player, loved looking through spell lists to find the weird and wonderful things that I can do. However, in attempting to write a super simple dungeoncrawl style game I have run into the problem of spells. It suddenly balloons the rule document, and makes it look large and intimidating. I already think five pages of rules is too many, so adding a detailed spell list is beyond the pale. 

So, here is my idea for a magic system that works with my simple rules and the two magic classes I have: Wizards and Bards.

WIZARD MAGIC

Wizard magic is about manipulating the fabric of nature, reshaping thigs at a fundamental level. Of course many wizards say that they are merely speaking to the elements in the language that they understand, but they are probably just trying to make it seem like they have better interpersonal skills than they really do.

At every level you pick a new element to cast spells over. To cast a spell you roll a twenty sided dice and as many six sided dice as you are putting magic points into it, plus your intelligence bonus, plus your level. The number to hit is up to the GM, and dependent on the rules system you are using. In my system a first level wizard using one die and having no smarts at all would average about 15, and the highest possible number a maximum level and big brained character could get would be 95. 

Every element has a thing it wants to do: water wants to flow, fire wants to burn fuel, and rocks want to fall towards earth's core. Anything you want to command an element to do becomes harder to achieve the further away it gets from an element's nature. So, starting a fire going with dry tinder, wood, and a spark from flint and steel requires no magic as really, anyone who knows how to make fire can do it. Diverting water to flow uphill would be more difficult, but possible with the right engineering or a bit of a magical boost. Causing a rock to levitate is right against its nature, and so would require a massive amount of magic... however it would require less magic to ask the winds to lift a rock for you (still a lot, as powerful winds generally don't come from nowhere localized entirely around one rock.

Unrelated note: How Great Is Heroquest

Elemental Effects

1. Natural, but convenient. A fire grows rapidly 

2. Unlikely, but still within the realms of possibility. An unstable hillside collaspses just when needed, and a bouncing rock sails away conveniently striking your foe.

3. Improbable! A once in a lifetime fluke. A small whirlwind appears from nowhere powerful enough to floor a single target then vanishes.

4. Impossible. A fire starts underwater.

5. Allegorical. An aspect of the element is infused into something else, and you can begin to levitate as the wind, or your skin becomes stone, or any other number of improbable things.

If what you are trying to do is cause damage it's an easier metric. A higher number hits harder. Increase dice type and number with the difficulty.

Distances

Distance also factors into things, the further away you want to affect, the more power you will have to push into the thing.

1. Touch: Yourself or right next to you. Magic's like electricity in that regard and it is easier to move it with a conducting connection

2. Near: In the room with you, or as far as you could throw a rock

3. Far: Within the same level of the dungeon, or if outside as far a distance as you could yell and still be understood. Maybe as far as a trebuchet could hurl a stone

4. Wherever You Are: Does what it says on the tin, inside a dungeon can affect anything within the complex. As far as you could see outside. Requires precise knowledge of the target, so somewhere you have been and know is easy to teleport to but launching a fireball anywhere on the planet might require "scry and die" tactics. This might be a bit more of a exponential increase in required power based on what sort of thing you're trying to do over a great distance.

Types of Element

So there are prescribed element types which you can hold mastery over, with some restrictions on the complexity of what you can manage.

Basic Elements: Earth, Air, Fire, Water classical elements can be learned in any order

Advanced Elements need two other elements to be known already: Ice (Water, Earth), Metal (Earth, Fire), Sound (Air, Water), Lightning (Fire, Air)

Final Elements only can be learned when all other elements are mastered: Gravity (Earth, Air) Light (Fire, Water) 

Scrolls, Books, and other Magic Spells

So, part of the fun of being a Wizard is to be able to find magic spells, look around in old tomes and find a thing to do. Now, I like these. It is pretty cool, and it's on to the aspects about Spell Lists I actually do like. So my answer is: don't list them. If you have a spell in your spell book it takes a certain number of dice (aka spell level) to cast. You load a spell up in the morning and go. This way if you want to use spells from some standard spell list for another game you just have to determine how powerful it is. Since these are ritualized and formalized and always do pretty much the same thing, they're more energy efficient (in a magical way), and so knowing the spell "fireball" is always going to cost less magical energy than creating the same effect but with mastery over the element (ie: Wait, you know how to create water by summoning it from an elemental plane? That's so much easier than individually combining ambient hydrogen and oxygen!).

As far as conflicting spell flavour to elemental mastery goes I think it's more fun (and easier) not to worry about it. You don't need to say "You can't cast breathe water! You only have earth and fire as elements you know!" It's easier to think of the elemental mastery as being fluent in the language of that element, whereas a spell is wrote learning a single phrase in a language you have otherwise now clue about. Allons y! Je ne parle pas Français!

BARD MAGIC

Bard magic is more about secret knowledge and techniques. It's about rumours, and knacks, and secrets picked up on travel. It's why part of the Bard's magic is healing (as many healing points as level plus charm bonus every day). In addition to this, Bards have one point of magic per level every day to spend on their more weird and wonderful things, although each magic point can be converted into their charm bonus in healing points at a pinch.

There are two broad effects of Bard magic: Talking and Enchanting. Every time you take a level, including at first level, you get to learn a new knack of Talking or Enchanting. If you know how to talk to something it confers no further benefit other than understanding it; it doesn't make the creature your friend, or even make it interested in talking to you, or guarantee that it has anything interesting to say (most non sentient animals aren't interested in much beyond food, mating, and avoiding being eaten) however it is a first step. 

If you can talk to a type of creature, you can track and heal them too. Healing points are spent as normal from your pool, although tracking takes a magic point, and you must roll a twenty sided dice, plus your charm bonus, plus a six sided dice for every magic point spent on tracking. 

Once you know how to talk to an order of creatures you will be able to learn how to enchant them, so to learn to enchant beasts you would need to be at level 2. It takes a magic point to cast an enchantment on a creature, and it can take two forms. The first is that the creature is immediately friendly towards you. This isn't mind control and will end if you ask the creature to do something really stupid ("Jump into the fire", "Stand perfectly still while these guys hit you with swords") but will be willing to do favours for you within reason. This enchantment will last for a few minutes if the creature has reason to dislike you (a hungry tiger might remember that it wants to eat you, or an enemy guard might remember that you are a hated outsider), but otherwise the impression will continue indefinitely if you continue to act in a cordial way to the creature (ie if you don't take advantage, you just made a new friend by magic/being charming). To enchant a creature in this fashion roll bard level and charm modifier, plus a six sided dice for every magic point spent on enchanting them, things which are aggressive, or even actively attacking you will be more resistant (although things that are scared of you may be less so).

You can also use your skill of enchantment to add a six sided dice to their roll to attack or attempt a skill. This simply requires the Bard to declare it and can be done after the roll is made (this could represent the Bard remembering a neat little trick they once learned and yelling the advice, or even performing a full NFL style cheer routine to inspire them to greater heights). However, if this is attempted in combat it will also rob the bard of their next action as they spend it concentrating on the enchantment instead.

All Bards automatically already know Talking and Enchanting of humans at first level.

What can you talk to?

The basic set of talk-toable things can be learned in any order. A slight caveat in that some things cannot communicate, as they do not communicate within their own kind. So you cannot communicate with an amoeba (even if you could see it) but you can talk with a whole mess of bees or ants. Trees and plants are the exception, as it is just cool to talk to plants. All of the examples listed here are mundane type animals.

1 Beasts (Bears, Cats, Dogs, Horses, things that walk around on land)

2 Birds (Eagles, Chickens, Ducks, Bats, Dinosaurs, things that go in the sky or in the water)

3 Bushes (Plants, trees, large banks of seaweed)

This, but like...good

Advanced Talking Skills

In order to learn to talk to other orders of creature, you must first master all the arts of enchanting the other forms of life. So the earliest one could learn to talk to Bugbears would be at level seven.

4 Bugbears 

This doesn't mean just this kind of bugbear (I just wanted to stick with the "B" theme I had going) it means anything which is a magical or fantastical monster, but which is essentially a physical thing. This means manticores, chimerae, krakens, giant ants, all sorts of things within the realm of the physically monstrous.

5 Boogums 

Precautions recommended

Boogums are outsider things: angels, demons, elder gods, spirits, ghosts, undead, and anything far too powerful to otherwise be enchanted. Talking to Boogums can only be learned after learning to enchant Bugbears.

It's not who gets there first, it's who gets back alive...

"As every student of exploration knows, the prize goes not to the explorer who first sets foot upon the virgin soil but to the one who gets that foot home first. If it is still attached to his leg, this is a bonus."

-Terry Pratchett, Jingo

If you go through the history of Dungeons and Dragons to some of the earliest game design, you can see that the incentive was not only to go into the depths of underground catacombs, but to get all that sweet loot out again. This is the point of calculating coin weights, the existence of Tenser's Floating Disc, and the DM dick move of making all the Dragon's hoard in Copper Pieces; the gold doesn't matter if you can't get it back to somewhere you can spend it. It also requires you to find a large enough economy in which you can convert your treasures into more usable coin. You can't just get to the local one horse, three pig, nowheresville and expect the local tavern owner to have enough money to give market value for the emerald encrusted idol of the elephant god (although it could make a very nice addition to the common room, maybe bring in some of that noble trade... something to think about). 

"You only get XP for the gold you get back to town" is a pretty standard practice, and I don't think I am breaking any new ground in suggesting it. However, I am suggesting one step further; killing the Beast of Gévaudan doesn't matter if no-one ever hears that it was you that did it.

You only get XP for monsters you have defeated if you get to tell the tale. This is distinct from getting to a town with gold (although you can certainly roll them both into one), but even if you get to a lone trading post, out of the way inn, or meet a travelling singer on the road as long as you get the stories of your adventures told that is when you get the XP.

It requires a little extra bookeeping, but a little that can easily be handed off to the players! After all, it is they who are telling the story. If they keep a tally of all the things they have killed, all the monsters defeated, and have to retell the stories of (or at least relist) the adversaries they fought to the audience they are telling the tale to then you can be sure they will be doing this for XP.

If you use this format as the only way to get XP, you can probably use the standard formula for the system. However, if you are using it as a sort of bonus (ie: in conjunction with rules that allow a bonus for gold brought back to town such as carousing/philanthropy) then you can probably stand to modify the calculus somewhat. Only one XP dip for each type of enemy per story (unless there's a particularly cool kill, or story about tricking or otherwise defeating them), and maybe an exponential increase in XP based on hit dice (incentivizing hunting the biggest monsters for the best stories). 

Alternative XP mechanic: XP as Class

This is a mechanic to incentivize particular behavior for particular classes. A rogue wants to steal gold and treasures, a fighter wants to fight the strongest opponents, and a wizard wants weird magical crap.

So, in this XP is as normal, however bonus XP depends on class (figured as Fighter, Thief and Wizard). The fighter gets bonus XP for every creature fought and successfully bragged about. This incentivizes the fighter to fight things and to throw their lives away in death or glory charges. Alternatively, if using the unique creature limit and exponential hit dice increase, it makes fighters into dragon hunters wanting to find the biggest coolest nastiest thing to kill. You of course need to find an audience for this, so you need to find somewhere with a tavern, and preferably a bard to whip your story up into something really cool. 

You only get the bonus for treasure brought back to town if you are a thief. You have to fence the treasures through the local mob syndicate or thieves guild or what have you, so you need to find a town which can support such an economy. It also means you want to hoard and transport wealth, every single copper is a bonus bit of kudos with your fellows. Probably best that the fenced loot can be converted into goods and services as well (it's not the miser class after all), but it does mean you don't want to waste money throwing it away on tacky shows of ostentation in the boonies.

So where does this leave our poor Wizard, sitting out in the cold with no bonus XP to warm them? Well, there are a couple of possibilities: firstly, you could leave around Wizard Rare Candies that immediately grant a level (such as the Treasures in Lair of the Lamb), or determine that Wizards get the gold value XP of any magical items found lying around. However, both of these depend a little too much on GM fiat, tend to seesaw more extremely than the above two, and don't require the loot be taken anywhere. 

An alternative is: no cost for spell scribing. You just need to get a spellbook or scroll to a scriptorium, or lab, or other reasonable studio and you have that spell! It means that Wizards will be even more eager to seek out spellbooks and scrolls, and happy to trawl around the lairs of evil liches looking for somewhere with a bench and some writing implements. If you have a standard medieval fantasy world, you can make the places where you can set up to write even more idiosyncratic than the locations for fighters and thieves! This also levels out the XP progression for Wizards against thieves and fighters, if they are getting bonus stuff more often, but bonus XP less.

You could expand this to other classes based on what you think they should be incentivized to do. Clerics getting XP for conversion and healing for example, but only when they return to a temple of their god. Mixed classes getting half the bonus for a mix of tasks such as Bards getting half the rogue XP for treasure back in town, and half fighter XP for monster hunting stories spread.

XP as Class: Hard Mode

Bascially, as above, but it is the only way to get any XP is for the actions of your class. It might be an idea to nix the "take it somewhere" element of the above. It also makes characters much more in competition and uneasy allegiance, so it may not work too well. However, it does lead to definite character incentives linked to their archetypes.

However, this in conjunction with the Wizard's spell copying means that Wizards would not get any XP. Which, in this instance: Wizards do not level. Instead, they can always cast all of the spells they know, all the time. As soon as you find a new spell, it's yours and you know it. It makes Wizards glass cannons even more so, as they never move beyond the "get one-shotted by a goblin" stage. If you need to limit this, you could say that every spell gets a "once per day" fire and forget, or you could say that Wizards level up by number of spells known. However, this would really drive the magic users to be looking out for sites of ancient mystery and forgotten lore.

Anyway, that's my alternate XP system. Mybe there's something useful in there, let me know if you think you could use any ideas from it.

When you hit zero

So, I recently wrote up a very simple system in order to introduce people to roleplaying, specifically to the OSR style. Now, I'm still refining the rules, as I think they are still too bloated (they run to five pages! Five!!) but to that end I'm putting some rules up here as I think of them so that I can copy them into the master document later. To that end, here's my rules about death and dismemberment (I may make a bigger table later, but for now this is it).

When You Hit Zero

No-one likes to get one-shotted, even at first level, so here are the rules that mean you don't die immediately in combat. 

As is traditional...

When you hit zero you pass out and begin to bleed out. Three rounds later you have succumbed to your wounds, but within this time a friend can spend an action to save you. You do not regain consciousness until after the fight has ended (if there is a fight), or until you regain HP from healing. Either way, if you have fallen below zero you must roll on the table below.

1	Come on, you’re fine. I barely touched you, just walk it off you faker.
2-3	You suffer no ongoing problems, but you get a cool scar to carry with you for the rest of your life (choose as appropriate to the injury)
4-5	Your injuries will need time to heal. You take four or five points (depending on roll) from any of your stats which will heal at a rate of one per day, or after one day of convalescence with healers (ie go to a Hospital), and you will carry scars from this encounter.
6-7	Your injuries are severe enough to require a great deal of recuperation. You take six or seven points (depending on roll) from any of your stats will heal at a rate of one per day, or after one day of convalescence with healers (ie go to a Hospital), and you will carry scars from this encounter. In addition to this, you lose your class bonus to all actions until you have taken a day’s rest.
8	The savage nature of your injuries has debilitated you permanently. You lose two points of either strength or dexterity and have an “old war wound” that aches in bad weather.
9	You have taken extreme damage to the brink of death. You permanently lose four points from either strength or dexterity, or loose a limb (with concomitant effects). The scars you carry from this injury are noticeable for all, and cause people to often ask the story behind them.
10	You have suffered from a debilitating injury from which there is no return. You can move under your own power, but your strength, dexterity, and health points have fallen to 1. You could continue to live a regular life, but your adventuring days are over.

There are two exceptions to these rules: 

If you get damaged to -10 HP (by being hit by a big explosion or something), you do get one-shotted. Don't poke the dragon. 

Also Barbarians, as they get a powerup when they hit zero HP but die immediately at -10. A Barbarian does "roll" on the wounds table every time they drop below zero, but always get the result of "cool scars".

Time

It is always important to know the calendar, not only is timekeeping important, but there are festivals to observe and cultural connotations to the different months. As is only right and sensible, the year is divided up into ten months, which are as follows:

The Ten Months

March
The beginning of the year, the start of the campaigning season and sacred to Mars the God of War. 
Contains the unspeakable Ides. A month for war, sacrifice, and the slaughter. An auspicious month for great undertakings, the beginning of epic works, or to try and murder a god. Under the laws of heraldry this is the only acceptable month to declare war, and ongoing conflicts are often marked with the traditional rites of throwing a javelin into enemy territory (or more often a symbolic representation thereof).

The Zodiac of this month is Pisces

Aphril
The flowering month, sacred to Venus. A month of growth and new birth, also one of vengeance and the rites of combat. An auspicious moth for dueling (especially for love), marriages, and general affairs of the heart. It is also traditionally the month for ewes to lamb (however sheep do not care overmuch for tradition). The rite of flowers is often performed in this month.

The Zodiac of this month is Aries

Maia
Sacred to Bona Dea and an auspicious month to give birth. A snow white bull and a coal black bull are both slaughtered on the steps of the Capitoline Temple in Old Rhomarth and the organs inspected by the haruspices.* Newborn children are brought up to be anointed with the viscera to bring them fortune and guidance in their lives.

The Zodiac of this month is Taurus

June
Sacred to Juno, Queen of the Gods. Time of the Summer Solstice, the sun is high, the days are long, the trees are fruiting. Although this is a time of much agricultural work, in the cities it is often a time of revelry and masques. In the cities of Vincenzia and Saint Basil's Folly this month holds the nights of a thousand faces. A full week of festivals where all citizens wear elaborate masks that cover their identities at all times. The Great Masque is held at the end of the month, when all these vizards are removed at midnight. This festival forms the basis of many plays both farcical and tragic. If one wished to visit Zirkusburg at this time, it might be almost deserted.

The Zodiac of this month is Gemini

July
Sacred to the divine Julius. This month is auspicious for coronations to occur, and traditionally regnal years begin and end in this month. The festival of the Divine Julius is celebrated across many different lands, where it is traditional to drink wine, read poetry, and make promises and resolutions to be fulfilled before the next festival. It is also a time to deliver secret love notes and romantic gifts.

The Zodiac of this month is Leo

August
Sacred to the divine Augustus. This month is of great importance to the legal fraternity, a good time for new laws to be passed, for legal practitioners to become qualified, and for magistrates to take their offices. Most major polities still celebrate the festival of the divine Augustus as a rite of civic pride and an opportunity to retell the history of the city. Generally a dull affair interesting only to historians and self important civic officials.

The Zodiac of this month is Cancer

Tiber
Sacred to father Tiber and to the divine Tiberius. The great festival of the grain harvest falls in this month, a feast to celebrate the hard work done in the fields. Much beer is drunk and celebratory loaves are baked and eaten. Apples are dried, and vegetables are pickled often with accompanying fairs delivering prizes. This is also the time to pray for protection against floods, and for dykes, dams, levees, and other waterworks to be inspected and repaired.

The Zodiac of this month is Libra

Geist
The haunted month, the setting in of winter. The festival of ghosts and demons is held in this month to protect against their influences throughout the year. This is a time when the dead come forth from their graves, when the influence of witches is most potent, and when the powers of the supernatural are at their most puissant. It is a good time to attempt to commune with the dead, or to have a curse tablet made against your enemies. It is said in Old Rhomarth there is still yet a shadow cult that holds rites to the shade of the long forgotten Emperor for whom the month is named.

The Zodiac of this month is Virgo

Claudio
Sacred to the divine Claudius. A month of judgement and an auspicious time to have a legal case heard. The month begins with All Saint's Day and the cannon law courts hear the largest and most important cases in this month (before closing until the following year). This is an auspicious month to slaughter a hog, and a good time to cure bacon. In the northern parts of the Holy Empire the festival of Hogswatch takes place with a great feast of pork, ham, sausage, bacon, and bloodmeal.

The Zodiac of this month is Scorpio

Nero
The dead month, a time of burning and of the winter solstice and the end of the year. Sacred to the divine Nero. The major celebrations take decidedly different qualities. The rite of fires (seen as burning the poor fortune and sins of the past year) is in equal parts sombre and savage, great fires are lit and the graves of ancestors are visited; this happens on the date of the winter solstice. A week later comes Saurnalia and the Lord of Misrule; a chaotic celebration lasting anywhere between a day and two weeks (depending on social standing). Drunken debauchery, communal singing, and large scale pranks are regular occurrences.  Gift giving amongst families, especially to children, is common.

The Zodiac of this month is Sagittarius

Intercalary Months

There are also two months that do not belong to the year, but are still observed. Superstition holds that children born in these months are likely to be werewolves, be stolen by the fair folk, or harbour a desire to overthrow the state.

January
Sacred to Ianus the two faced God of Borders of endings and beginnings. The festivals of Ianus are necessary to separate one year from the next. Contracts are often signed and sealed this month, and plans and businesses agreed upon. The boundary stones are counted and measured in this month, as well as many polities taking a census of their citizens. Frost fairs and markets are held upon frozen rivers, and due to being not upon the land are by tradition are free of taxes and duties.

The Zodiac of this month is Capricorn

February
A time of festivals, the festival of Februum necessary to begin the new year in the coming month of March. Also contains the festivals of Lupercalia, Quirinalia, Feralia, Caristia, and Terminalia. Traditionally a month with little to no work and much rejoicing. This is an auspicious month to found a city, and the birth dates of cities are traditionally counted in this month.

The Zodiac of this month is Aquarius

*The continuation of this and other ancient pagan traditions is brought up in support of the removal of the Papacy from Rhomarth to Stonechurch. The ancient priesthoods and colleges of soothsayers are very much alive, although often sheltered by the aegis a cult of one Saint or other.

The Book That Is The World

So, one day my players were investigating an abandoned village. They looked through every room and wardrobe and asked what they found there. It was a few coins here and there, but mostly personal effects (to give the impression they just suddenly vanished). A locket, some amateur paintings of birds, a flower pressed between the pages of a book, a...

Player: What's the book?

Me: Oh, uh, it's a popular romance novel

Player: Cool! I want to read it, what does it say?

Me: Uh... Just then you hear a banging coming from the room down the hall! No time to read now, time to fight a rocktopus!

However, the player who kept the book kept coming back to wanting to read the story. So I had no choice but to pull something out of nowhere, and had to make it up as I went along. I incidentally found out that this was a great way to give a potted lore dump of the rest of my world (in case the players felt like going off anywhere else), and I have subsequently reused the book in other campaigns (but this time being prepared with the plot I half remember), as players always seem to want to know the story of the book they found. Plus, it is a nice "unreliable narrator" where anything could be going on, but an idea of how someone saw each of these places gives a tone.

Regula Sancti Benedicti, Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford

The Romance of Rhomarra

Two households, both alike in dignity, in fair Old Rhomarth where we set our scene ancient grudge breaks to new mutiny and civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes, a pair of star-crossed lovers take their life. [Look, I am a Shakespearean actor in real life, and the prologue is really easy to remember]. Iullus and Rhomarra, scions of the two warring factions of Old Rhomarth, first see each other from balconies overlooking the great river that runs through the ancient city. For many nights Iullus would brave the treacherous waters of the flood to visit Rhomarra by moonlight. 

Much of the first part of the book is split between the romance of the lovers, and a sort of paean to Rhomarth as a city and neglected jewel of the world. Once the seat of Empire and the Church, now abandoned in a futile rush towards novelty; these chapters have a lot of recriminating invective about the move of the Papacy from Rhomarth to Stonechurch. The war in the streets between the families grows to fever pitch, and when the lovers realise they will never be able to be together they stage an elaborate plan involving sleeping draughts and suicide. 

 

Fleeing Rhomarth in the wake of their feigned death they move to Fiammecitta; a city on a volcano famed for its glass and metalworking. The strange thing is that the city is ruled by a dog, and many silly interludes are concluded in which the couple realise that the foolish citizens will never realise the folly of making a dog their lord. This is probably a joke on "Doge" (the ruler's title in that city), the constant infighting of factions, the curious obsession with hound racing and dog fighting, and a general jibe at the inhabitants of the city being more credulous than their sophisticated neighbors to the south. After this they continue their journey north, with the idea to see the world. They cross the Teeth of Alphetus, it seems a very ham handed segue as there is a famous Dragon Road that passes by Vincenzia, however the author's grandmother was from a village in a Helvetican canton called "Han's Holdfast" and that is included as a matter of familial pride. This is also an excuse to work in mountain adventure stories of hardship and fortitude. 

 

The couple end up in Vasserbec, the Capital of the Holy Empire, where they impress the Imperator so with their wit in a riddling contest (which was the style at the time) that they are made a favourites of the Imperial court. Whilst Iullus is intoxicated by luxury, Rhomarra  discovers that there is a family that resents the couples' swift advancement, the Estrellens. The Imperial Court is represented as a nest of vipers, full of complex plots and schemes far removed from the honour and gentility of old. When an attempt is made upon the lives, despite foiling the plot and having the Imperator bring the perpetrators to justice, the couple decide to flee to the west. 

 

They pass through Mittenburg where all people are obsessed with building a clockwork ruler, since none of the local nobility are held to be worthy of the honour. The whole thing seems to be a further criticism against novelty, but implies that the city is indeed one of Clockpunk futurism. They continue on to the court of the King of Frankia; a large Kingdom of fruitful lands, full of noble Knights and Paladins. Iullus becomes a Paladin of the court of the King due to his shining nobility and courtly manners. The Paladins are heroes of incorruptible virtue, however there is a strong thread of satire running though this section and the paladins often seem credulous and foolish (although never corrupt or evil, simply naïve). This section of the novel digresses into more unconnected short stories of courtly knights and ladies, the slaying of Orges and jousting of wicked knights for the honour of ladies of the court.

 

There is one notable asides here where Iullus and Rhomarra journey to the northern isles of Loegria and Eire. Loegria being embroiled in a civil war for the Crown between great houses all of equal moral turpitude. This seems to be a comment on the character of Loegrian peoples, as well as a chance to throw the upright virtue of the Frankian Paladins into stark relief, as many of the despicable Loegrian nobles are both sharp and pragmatic. Eire, by contrast, being the island nation on the edge of the world is almost half there. A world of the fantastic populated by beings of myth and a primeval magic that has long ago faded from the rest of the world. Rhomarra and Iullus are even feasted in the Fey court, and it seems they may be taken away to fairy land, only to trick their way out at the last minute.

 

Back in the court of Frankia Rhomarra befriends a princess of the lands of Al Andalus and the couple is tasked with escorting her home. Al Andalus forms yet another shift in style of the narrative, and there is more of a focus on romanticism about freedom. It is a wild and lawless place of large arid plains under a hot sun. Independent towns far from centres of power, a great open frontier yet to be tamed, and a place for heroes to stand tall. After saving such a village from a villainous black clad bandit chief, and being awarded the rank of shire reeves in the town, the couple decide to relocate to the frontier. 

 

Upon traveling to one of the port cities of Al Andalus, which is connected to the great trade lanes of the Mare Nostrum, they become curious about the distant Golden Empire, and follow a ship to visit the palace of the Empress. It is an Ancient state, wealthy, decadent, and now in decline. At this point in their adventures Iullus and Rhomarra are renowned as noble adventurers due to their powerful friends and wide ranging travels, and are welcomed into the Imperial circles. Much is made of the Byzantine nature of the Golden Empire, and how mired in the past it is, making a stark contrast to the criticism of novelty which marked the first chapters. Rhomarra is appointed ambassador to the Imperial court, due to her experience there, but as the two set off their ship is attacked by pirates, and although they fight them off they find themselves driven ashore in the lands of Strygia. These are provinces in the East of the Holy Empire, a great shadow lours over the land, full of haunted forests, forbidding ruined keeps, ghouls, ghosts, vampires and werewolves. The tale takes a darker and more gothic tone, focusing on the elements of horror that the couple must face. Each adventure seems to sap their resources further, and a sort of terrible spiral ensues that ends with the couple certain to die chased down by a great pack of werewolves, until a great thundering is heard: the winged hussars! 

 

The couple find themselves in the Far Kingdom. The bulwark against the East and the people of the steppe a place of nobility and valour, famous for the winged hussars into whose ranks Iullus is inducted due to his innate nobility (there is a long passage where the Hussars discuss Iullus' appearance in not always flattering terms, but always concluding that such physical features are the stamp of noble families of the region). The couple eventually venture further north to the Duchy of Kievan Rus, Home of the Lord of Winter. They are honoured guests, but the new wife of the Lord of Winter is a member of the Estrellen family who have neither forgotten nor forgiven the upstart couple. In a rather dramatic turn, the Lady of Winter has Rhomarra poisoned. The crime is discovered and many catspaws punished, the Lady of Winter is never connected to the crime being outwardly mournful and caring (only whispering a taunting confession in Rhomarra's ear).

 

In an attempt to save her life Iullus takes Rhomarra through Mesopotamia, to Meggido: The Holy Land in the hopes that they might find a cure for her fatal poisoning. It is a place of miracles and mystery, and this section of the book seems more like a travel guide. Many famous places, sights, attractions, and buildings are described in detail, but very little happens of plot significance. Rhomarra continues to fade and on a bright sunny morning, looking out of the window, says that she wished she could see the streets of Rhomarth one last time. She dies as the sun rises.

Iullus is devastated, bereft of all hope. However he hears that in the land of Ægyptus, the Ancient land of lost Empire, within the Black Pyramid of the Lich King there lies a terrible dread machine that it is said can defeat death itself. Iullus struggles though many travails, bringing the corpse of his love with him, and fights his way into the depths of the terrible structure to find the forbidden machine. When he comes at last to its dark altar, he discovers that he can revive Rhomarra to life, but only at the cost of his own. Faced with the choice of sacrificing himself that she might live alone, living his life forever without his love, or joining her in death, he looks across the Nile as the sun rises, and makes his choice...

 

The ending was deliberately ambiguous, and my original group argued about what the decision of Iullus might be and what was the right choice for a good forty minutes. 

 

I think, now that I have much of the information consolidated in one place (partly I've written it down here as I thought it was a nice little trick, but mostly to remind myself of a lot of the names that I had for places), I would in future split the narrative up into separate parts. Occasionally sprinkling volumes throughout the world, and having NPC characters be fans of the work allowing player knowledge of the books be a way to get closer with NPCs and make them more receptive and friendly. Hopefully get them into the headspace of collecting them all. Every new town, village, and hamlet inspected for a bookstore. Every dungeon bookcase ransacked in order to find the elusive missing volumes of this story.

Or maybe they wouldn't bother, who knows!

On Elves

Elves of the Orrery are not the Elves of Tolkien, rather they are more accurately Changelings. (This idea is stolen whole cloth from Ten Foot Polemic: here, here, and here). They are intimately connected to the Fey.

Elves

Elves, as a whole, are pretty wondrous beings. They live and breathe magic to a degree unimagined by those who devote their lives to study. Magic to them is a natural thing, especially that magic which is their heart spell, that which was inscribed on their soul. This soul spell will determine largely how the Elf mutates as it grows in power, however all Elves have a few things in common.

What do your Elf Eyes see?
Elves are preternaturally alert, can see further and listen more keenly than humans, giving them +1 to their awareness.

Nasty, big, pointy teeth
Every Elf grows some sort of natural, generally animalistic defense. Sometimes this manifests as over-wide maws stretching across their faces and filled with savage needlepoint teeth, or their fingers elongate into razor sharp birdlike talons, or their bodies produce crystaline shards and carapaces of diamond hard rock, or maybe they just have, like, Wolverine's claws or something. In any case they have a bonus to hit and to damage of half their level.

Born of Magic
All Elves are natural magic users, they have a particular spell inside their heart that was sung into their bones at the moment of creation. They can always cast this spell, without spell slots, or mana, or anything. They speak to the world in the language it understands, and it always answers. The essentially human frame that is an Elf is too frail to hold more than one spell, so additional magics are learned in the same way that other magic users have to know them. This heart spell is a first level spell chosen (or randomly generated) at first level. This heartspell will begin to seep out into the world as the Elf grows in power, routinely generating minor magical effects around the elf related to their heartspell.

Changelings

Any similarities to existing games is purely coincidental. When someone is kidnapped by the Fey, they leave something behind in their place. Sometimes it is a simulacrum which believes itself to be the real person, sometimes a pale imitation which dies within days of the abduction, sometimes they are replaced with one of their own.

Not only do Elves return to their homes with a great deal of time difference (sometimes several centuries pass whilst they believe that they have been merely enjoying an evening of entertainments) the Elves are marked by their time with the Fey, magic inhabiting their very souls. Whether this be from a carelessly sung Fey song settling its magic deep into the bones of the visitor, the food of the Fey changing and binding their soul, or the Fey themselves vivisecting them for fun and writing a spell on their heart before sewing them back up and kicking them out. In any case, the experience invariably leaves the Elf incredibly traumatized, the lack of the knowledge of the song leaving a hole in their heart so deep that they will grieve forever at the loss and wish only to hear it once more, the taste of all other food turning to ashes in their mouths in comparison to the indescribable essence of true flavor, or waking up in cold sweats every night with the image of their own still pulsating organs laid own before them as a mad eyed fey looms over them coldly glinting scalpel in hand.

These are the most pitiful of all the Elves, often with no idea of what they have become. They return from their confusing and terrifying sojourn in the other lands changed often into bestial and terrifying forms. They return having been separated from their friends and families often for years (from one or the others perspectives), and even if they retain their human forms, they will never be at one with their people again. There is always something left in these Changelings of the wildness of the otherworld, a sort of extra depth of understanding. They will always add their level as a bonus to any check involving the wilderness and animal handling. 

Fairchilde

When a beautiful Fey wanders into the mortal realm, it is all too common for their weird and protean beauty and otherworldly air to ensnare the hearts and minds of many whom they encounter. If the Fey finds this mortal sufficiently interesting, yet for some reason does not immediately spirit them away to the Fey realm, they may end up with a souvenir from an evening of weird passion. The Fey have no clearly defined form or gender, and so may be the mother to one Fairchilde and the father to another.

A Fairchilde will not always know their nature, although they will certainly not know one of their parents. Sometimes their Elven nature will manifest itself at puberty (X-men rules, woo!), although a few especially unsettling Elves manifest their powers as children, and often retain that shape for their entire existence. Mostly, however, the expression of their Fey heritage will lie dormant in them for many years, although they will age much more slowly than their contemporaries, often appearing to be in the prime of youth well into their fourth decade. In these cases, it is often set off either by an encounter with the Fey (especially if their wayward parent appears to see how their young offspring is faring), or with some other incident of a magical nature.

The Fairchilde Elf will never become a true Fey (without finding some form of fire to burn out their mortal half), but their blood sings with magic and learning spells comes to them much more quickly than to humans. They will learn and transcribe spells in half the time it would take a human and add their level as a bonus to any check to understand magic or magical effects.

Ælfen Koenig

Inspired by the Late Great Galaxy Johnson of Ten Foot Precis. This is what happens when one of the Fey trapped in a crystal leaps out and takes control of a human body. These Elves are the most dangerous of all, for they have the potential to become as powerful as a true Fey, that is: Godlike.

Whilst initially no more powerful than the other sorts of Elves, as these folk grow in power in a different way. Their heart spell grows and changes with them. Instead of learning other spells, the awakened mind of the Koenig learns to change their heartspell subtly in order to accomplish different things. In rules terms it means that you cannot learn any spells which could not conceivably come from a change to your heartspell. A Koenig whose heartspell was sleep could perhaps draw on the power of dreams to create illusions, and conceal themselves in invisibility borne of half drowsy minds, but they could not learn how to shoot real fire from their hands or anything. A Koenig can only know as many spells as it has levels, however all of their spells count as Heartspells.

A Koenig, at the height of its power, is a terrible and splendid creature. Bound to the mortal plane, but instinctually speaking the language of the earth. No power is truly beyond its grasp.

 

Naga: Empires of the Serpent Kings

So, this whole idea was spawned by a few things. Firstly, the idea of a pre-existing society, a great lost Empire filled with power and wonder lost to the modern age. As remarked on by Matt Colville this is a pretty solid fantasy trope, and moreover, and underlying principle of D&D and Medieval Fantasy Roleplaying (there needs to be a lost Empire for there to be forgotten tombs full of loot). The idea of living in the shadow of bygone greatness is a staple of culture in Medieval Western Europe, with the architecture of the Romans being a marvel attributed to giants and other magics. 

Also, I really wanted to use Tomb of the Serpent Kings, so I needed Serpent Kings... and the first time I read it, I sort of thought all the serpent people mentioned were half snake. Plus, it was inspired by the lore of Legend of the Five Rings, Exalted, and from the Twilight Imperium RPG. As can be seen from other blog posts, all my best stuff is stolen from others.

The Naga

The Naga were a people of the age of the Dragons, and they built their great societies in the shadow of the draconic wing. As with the other dominant life forms of the period, they were of a primarily reptilian cast. It is uncertain whether the Naga lived in awe of the Dragons, if they warred against them, or if they simply tolerated them as an aspect of their world. The surviving representations of them do not seem to indicate that they worshiped Dragons as gods as the Kobolds do, preferring it seems to venerate their ancestors or perhaps living god-kings. The powers of the Naga were certainly great enough at their height to make war upon the Dragons, although there is no surviving evidence that they did so (although some clearly hunted for sport the great and terrible lizards that shared their lands).

Physically the Naga were serpent featured with a humanoid torso and arms. They primarily moved about on their large muscular tails, as can be seen from their surviving art and the peculiar architecture of their ruins. Although they were possessed of a set of four limbs, their lower limbs form vestigial secondary arms. A "standing" Naga would have been slightly taller than an average human (about 2 metres tall), but their total length from nose to tail would have been nearly three times this.

Due to their unique physiology, the architecture of their ruins is often bafflingly hard to navigate. Although they principally relied on ridged ramps as stairwells, they would often employ poles around which to twine their bodies for swift ascent and descent. The construction of which is varied between great cyclopean stonework, and shimmering walls of impervious glass.

Some of the Naga are shown on the surviving statues and inscriptions as having cobra-like hoods. These hooded types seem to have been more powerful sorcerers and held in higher status. Although whether this physiology developed from increased sorcerous knowledge, or if it is a physical trait distinct to noble bloodlines is uncertain.

Like this, but with more arms

Empires of the Serpent Kings

Once they ruled over all the land they surveyed, now naught is left save the few settlements that have not been pillaged by the grubby mammals that succeeded them. In fact the great city of Babylon is built amid the towers of one of the old Naga cities, the great ziggurats and walls which have stood for thousands of years paling in comparison to the spires and towers of the Naga that rise beside them, dwarfing them in both size and antiquity.

The tombs, cities, and other ruins that lie undisturbed are always far up in mountain ranges, buried at the floors of deep chasms, or otherwise hidden from the thieving hands of earlier generations. Not that the Naga themselves built there, but rather the land itself has shifted in the millennia since their dominance [This is held as evidence for the theory that the planet itself is alive at a glacially slow pace and shrugs and writhes its skin in discomfort as humanity crawls mite-like upon its surface].

Their civilization was advanced enough to travel across the surface of the globe in an eyeblink, to raise great many spired cities of glass as strong as steel, vessels that sailed through the sky as mortal ships lough the waves, and devices that it is said could think for themselves. From what can be gleaned of their knowledge from the ruins and scraps of record recovered from the immeasurably ancient sites, the Naga possessed an advanced understanding of natural philosophy so complete as to bend the very world to their whims.

The Naga, whilst being all of the same breed, were not it seems one people. Their various cities and temples warred one with the other. Their devices and machines of war must have been wonders to behold. Energies that could have shattered mountains, and turned the very stones to glass. If anyone of this age were to discover such a device and how to use it, surely they could make themselves monarch of the whole orb against whom no army could withstand.

Some of the records of the Naga still survive, imprinted on bas reliefs in their surviving ruins, inscribed onto eldritch substances which look like the finest glass yet bend and fold like a new spring leaf, writing themselves in letters of fire across obsidian plates in front of the eyes of disbelieving dungeon delvers. Unfortunately, no-one knows how to read this language... yet. Many of the wisest of the Universities have come close, using powerful magics of understanding and deciphering and drawing on a vast trove of archaeological research, but there is always some missing piece. Such knowledge of the Naga civilization that exists comes from these exertions, but only fragments and inferences are really understood.

Perhaps something analogous to the Rosetta stone may be discovered, or one of the capricious Fey might be able to give some insight, or through some form of great necromancy the spirits of the long departed Naga themselves might be communed with. In any case, if even the slightest skerrick of sense could be made from these ancient writings then there would be a great rush to delve for the forgotten wisdom of these vanished people. 

Church doctrine of course equates the Naga with the biblical serpent, and hold that their association with magics is clear evidence (if more was needed) of the utter unholiness of such practices. As such, the church does all it can to convince the laity to avoid any trace of them, to shun their cities. They know they cannot influence or stop the incessant delvings of godless wizards (or other adventuring types) but where they can they will interdict any of the more accessible ruins, and destroy any heretical teachings and writings relating to the demonic Naga. Although it is whispered (in largely conspiratorial circles it must be said) that the majority of the miracles accomplished by the relics of the church are in fact the powers of Naga artifacts, obtained by the Church heirarchy through years of accumulated wealth and control of ancient Naga sites.

The cataclysm which destroyed the Naga is uncertain, whether it was the great movement of the planet to set it amongst the Orrery as the Kobolds maintain, or if they destroyed themselves in a great internecine war. Perhaps there was another explanation; a great plague, or a collapse of their civilization into barbarism, perhaps the meteorite that brought the Fey, or the coming of the Lich, or maybe they were all eaten by dragons. The truth will never be known, the only certainty is that the Naga are long gone from this planet for many ages of the world, leaving behind only their enigmatic ruins and artifacts more powerful than mortals should ever weild.

Dragon Roads

The great wonders of a lost age, these roads are straighter, more level, and more impervious to the elements than any road of mere earthly material that could be made in this fallen age. They are called Dragon Roads because folk wisdom holds that they were fused out of the living rock by the heat of dragonfire, however close inspection of the surface of these roads reveals them to be not of fused rock but of some other wonderous material impervious to all outside force. 

Curiously, there does seem to be some sort of lingering energetic connection between the Dragon Roads and the ancient magical items of the Naga. If a Naga magical artifact is brought into contact with a Dragon Road, all expended charges are restored. Almost like the road is somehow harvesting and storing magical energy.

Clarke's Third Law in action

Interestingly, unlike the lost Naga cities, or their precious and mysterious magical artefacts, the Dragon Roads tend to be well known to most people, as they invariably pass through modern settlements and cities. These great arteries are even more convenient to navigate than the steadiest of rivers, and run in dead straight lines across the land. There are a few great cities and settlements which have, though accident of politics and geography, flourished away from Dragon Roads, but for the most part wherever there are Dragon Roads that is where wealth and trade will flow. Due to their usefulness, and their ubiquitous nature across the land, the Dragon Roads seem to be one aspect of the lost civilization which the Church does not hold as inherently demonic, although there have been outspoken firebrand preachers that have railed against them as if they were forks.

Magical Artifacts

The Naga were masters of magic and technology, weaving the chaotic reality warping forces into safe and predictable mechanisms. Some of these are useful devices such as the Eyes of Night, or the Ring of Distant Touch. Some are completely obscure in their intended purpose, such as the myriad obsidian slates which are found in every Naga ruin some no bigger than a human palm, some the size of a folio book, all of which seem to serve no purpose; although some have reported such items displaying writing, or images, drawn from within the glass as if writ with fire; bathing things in an eerie glow before falling blank again (mostly these are used as fashion and decoration, attached to rich clothing or worked into large jeweled pieces). 

Some of the devices are weapons, weapons of terrible destruction. There are swords that glow with green fire and cut through steel as if it were warm tallow.  There are strange wands that emit gouts of flame that will burn a human to ash in seconds, and some that emit even stranger yet no less fatal energies. There are machines that, when improperly handled, release all the energies of a volcanic eruption, or so those who investigate the subsequent scenes of cataclysm theorize.

Fortunately for the modern mammalian inheritors of the planet, the physiology of the Naga was similar enough that most of the equipment can still be employed. Swords can still be wielded, rings and bracers can be worn, even eye pieces and crowns made for serpent heads, with some modern metalwork additions, can be adapted for purpose. Not all the commands or workings of these machines can immediately or intuitively be understood, and some experimentation may be needed. Best to hope you are not holding one of the great "turn a city to a puddle of glass" devices when you start fiddling with your latest treasure.

Sleeping Serpents

Not all the Naga are gone. Their great magical wonders allowed them to sleep the sleep of ages, stored away from the ravages of time. Perhaps they foresaw the coming of the great extinction that the creation of the Orrery would bring. Perhaps they are in hibernation from an even earlier age of the world, waiting out some great conflict which ended aeons before the coming of the stars. In shimmering clear tubes, encased in ice or glass, the last of the Naga await their time to rise again. 

What might awake these ancient beings? A band of tomb raiders exploring an ancient and forgotten Naga stronghold may come across these tubes and through their bumbling cause them to stir and spark to life once more. Perhaps a complex apparatus monitors the surface environment, awaiting the time when conditions will be habitable for the cold-blooded peoples once more. Perhaps it is merely a time delay, and at some specified point the legions of the old Empire will swarm out from long lost complexes. Perhaps, the Naga wait for the Dragons to wake, to take their place once more in a great reptilian alliance. 

What might the Naga want? Will they be willing to communicate, to try and share their knowledge with their newfound planetary neighbors? Or will they come from beneath the cities of the mammal usurpers bringing fire, sword, and sorcery to humble these upstart primitives. Will they come to reclaim their lost eminence? Will there be swarms, or a mere handful? An unstoppable army, or a tragic last echo of their kind?

Who can say...