Specialist Wizards

In the comments here, James M. talks about why he dislikes 2nd editions take on specialist wizards. Rather than clutter up the comments over there too much, I'll throw this up here.

I dislike 2e's specialist wizards for two reasons. First is the creation of a universal spell list that lumps both MU and Illusionist spells into a single collection. In 1e, there were spells -- illusionist spells -- that no MU could ever cast, regardless of their ostensible school. I think 2e misreads the meaning of the schools and attempts to over-rationalize them at the expense of flavor and mystery, which is what having separate spell lists for each class did.

Second, and more damning, many of the specialist wizard types exist for no other reason than to fill out a schema. No effort is made to make each specialist type unique. Instead, each type gets an identical bonus for its favored school and cannot cast spells from one or more "opposed" schools. It's in my opinion the triumph of categorization over substance, a kind of "spreadsheet" mentality where everything has to fit in a nice little box according to an outside rationale.

I don't think 2e specialist wizards (or specialty priests for that matter) are unholy abominations and I fully understand the reasoning behind their creation. However, I think they sacrifice too much uniqueness on the altar of simplicity/rationality and, given the choice, I'd rather stick with the original presentations.

While I can sympathize with James' point of view, I can't really agree with it. In my eye, the 1e (or OSRIC since it's effectively the same) Illusionist is no more mysterious than anything else. Nor is it particularly distinct. To me, it looks just like any other magic-user/wizard/arcanist/whatever-the-hell-we're-calling-them-now: a unique spell list is but a distinction without a difference. Honestly, what fundamental difference is there between an Illusionist and a Magic-User in the PHB other than a somewhat exclusive spell list?

Contrary to James' point of view, I think the designers understood the idea of spell schools and spheres perfectly well and that the real objection, here, is that all of 2nd edition's specialists are, at their core, pretty much the same thing. They get the same bonuses and penalties, they chose from a largely identical spell list except for banned and favored schools. In essence, they were as similar as two law school students, one who focused on criminal trial law and the other who focused on corporate finance law. In exchange for sacrificing a certain level of general knowledge (i.e., they do not have the breadth of comprehension that a genarlist does), they gain a depth of knowledge in their chosen field that gives them an edge both in the lab and in the field. In the end, though every one of them works with magic of a different sort, they all belong to the same archetype and class - the hermetic/academic spell caster - and, in my mind, do not at all need to be differentiated more than that. That way lay the dreaded realm of the third edition where every fine nuance on an archetype required it's own unique base class (in some cases there or four base classes) and any number of prestige classes.

Of course, I don't object to the idea that the spell lists are too much the same. Too often, it seems that, for the most part, the spells one wizard carries are virtually identical to just about any other out there. Can't tell you how many times the later 2e modules had every single wizard NPC carry magic missile, even if the evocation school was forbidden them. Personally, I think it might be very interesting to try a campaign in which all wizards are specialists (no such thing as a generalist in this world) and they are able to learn and cast spells ONLY from their favored school: a necromancer, therefor, would cast ONLY necromantic spells. There would be a short list of universal spells, the likes of Read Magic, Detect Magic, and so on, but otherwise, all spells would be the exclusive domain of the specialists.

Now, I'm not at all opposed here to the concept of adding truly unique specialist types. As much as Vancian casting works for D&D, I think the possibility of magically endowed characters who do not utilize recipie like spells is an intriguing one. I've simply never seen an adequate example of it that would work along the lines of the D&D game (or any version of it). Maybe a simple short hand for an elementalist would be to utilize the vancian system, but to remove the "spell book" aspect and have them function more like clerics. Their spell list would be a conglomeration of both clerical and magic-user spells that would fall within that element (i.e., both burning hands and flame-strike would be a part of a fire elementalist's spell list). Instead of a holy symbol or spell book, they would be carrying a fetish or medicine bag type of object which would act as a focus for the magic.

I don't know, I'm ust spitballing here. The entirety of D&D seems built around the concept of Vancian magic (with good reason) and it's difficult to go outside of that boundary without venturing into other realms.

The Book of Common Prayer

No, not that one, but inspired by it certainly.

One of the greatest advantages of the cleric class (if not the single greatest advantage) is their ability to gain any spell in the cleric spell list without having to resort to spell books, scrolls, or other "memorization media." This means that every cleric - assuming he has access to the appropriate sphere and level - can cast a healing spell, and the prayer spell, and all the rest, which is a startling advantage over magic users who must build their inventory of spells over time as they adventure. Their only limiters on spells are the requirements for rest every day and daily devotions in order to regain spells. It's also presumed that the cleric is required to further the cause of his ethos/god or otherwise stay true to his supposed religion, but this is ignored frequently enough that it might as well be optional.

Whether or not this disparity is "fair" is not my concern here. What's more interesting to me is the number of minor problems this issue can introduce.

First, it leads to a major issue if the DM wants to introduce new spells for the cleric from other sources, especially midway through a campaign. This can get especially dangerous if the ref isn't careful and doesn't make sure that the floodgates stay closed, thereby letting in a flood of spells into the game that he didn't want to begin with. In all fairness, while it might be great fun for me as the DM to throw a cleric with the "Spittle" spell at the group, it's not wonderful to then turn arond and tell the party clerics that not only can't they have such a spell (for it is evil in its own way) but that they can't go outside the bounds of the PHB to begin with.

Another major issue as I see it is that it leads to a disconnect between the cleric character and any possible organization of the religion he serves - i.e., the tribal teachings of the shaman, or "the church" as it were for geographically broader faiths. Just what attachment does an adventuring cleric of Pelor have with the church of Pelor anyway? What are his duties to the hierarchy if any? What penalties will he suffer for failing to oblige by them?

There's also the issue of holidays, fasting days, feasting days, and the religious calendar at large, though that is entirely the province of the DM and unique to each campaign.

My solution is the introduction of a holy cannon for each sort of priest in the campaign. Each individual religion will have its own holy texts (i.e., its own bible) which all of their clergy will be required to be familiar with. In it are the teachings and stories of the god, the history of the church if appropriate, and tellings of the miracles performed by the faithful. For the spellcasting members of the clergy (i.e., those with PC classes in Cleric, Druid, or any other class that features spell casting) these texts serve as essential tools without which they find the performance of miracles increasingly difficult: for every 24 hours period without their cannon, a cleric/druid character faces a cumulative 5% chance increased spell failure chance. These texts contain all of the spells available to cleric characters out of the PHB for the first three levels. At such time as a cleric character would be able to cast 4th level spells, he must make a pilgrimage to a suitable stronghold of his faith and present himself to the authorities there to make a reckoning of his career thus far and plead his case for access to the greater mysteries of the faith. Only if the authorities (an abbot or high priest or whatnot) are satisfied by the accounting will the priest be granted access to more complete sacred texts and permitted to copy from them. The whole process requires a week per spell level gained (i.e., gaining access to 4th level spells requires 4 full weeks of prayer and copying. Thus, replacing a lost or stolen cannon will require a significant investment in time and effort.

A priest may, of course, add spells gained upon his travels to his cannon, but such may cause difficulties when returning to the church for reckoning as spells outside of the cannon may be considered blasphemous. Unscrupulous priests may even pay for completed texts rather than subject themselves to the scrutiny of their superiors.

The Cleric and the Faith Part V: No, There Is No God Margaret

This is not atheism, but a universe in which no deities actually exist. There are no gods, no powers, nothing that watches over you but the terrifying things that go bump in your nightmares. Humans - and demi-humans - are alone, and are the height of advancement both social and technological (we're not playing the evolutionary levels game here). No devils, demons, daemons, or angels. There are no outer planes, inner planes, or alternate planes.

Oh sure, people still huddle together in the dark and worship things, but in the end, there's nothing there to hear them. This is it.

Of course, this creates a game that's a lot darker and more grim than your average D&D game. People who become badly injured tend to stay that way for a good long time, if they recover at all. People who get sick stay sick, or merely die due to lack of modern medicine. Of course, main casualties are the entire Cleric class, along with Druids and Paladins. Rangers take a glancing blow as they lose their ability to cast some cleric spells at higher levels, but that honestly doesn't bother me at all. In the interest of "balance" I suppose they could be given a few magic user spells to compensate, but in all honesty I don't see the need.

I'm growing more and more enamored of the whole concept, really, though I think it'll end up looking pretty damn terrifying in the end. Something not really suitable at all to standard D&D concepts of rascals with hearts of gold seeking adventure and fortune and so on. Not sure how that bothers me, but it does just a little. D&D always managed to have a positive, almost happy spin on things in my view and I'm not sure I can slice that out without killing some part of the game.

The Cleric and the Faith Part IV: All Gods Are Local

One of the tenets of Old School gaming (and life in general really) is that "all politics are local." That translates to, in my book, no grand overarching plots to save the world against the Big Bad Evil Guy, or righting the cosmic balance, or whatever. The happenings within any campaign are due mostly, if not entirely, due to local forces. Which is, of course, not to say that local happenings can't cause a chain of events that lead to greater and greater effects: the cold grows deeper and more deadly in the north, driving the orcs out of the mountains to compete for space with the hobgoblins on the plains, who move west and begin taking border forts of the human lands, who . . .

This is one of those tenets that is carried forward into Middle School gaming many times, though, to our shame, we did futz around extensively with heavy handed plots and ridiculous "save the world" schemes.

If we can apply it to politics, why wouldn't it apply to gods? Instead of cobbling together yet another standard fantasy pantheon, the assumption is that there are simply no hugely powerful deities (in AD&D 2e terms, that would mean nothing above a lesser deity) and that there are no universally or broadly worshipped entities. Instead, various beings rule over smaller geographic or cultural regions: a valley for instance, or a small chain of islands. For whatever reason, the being draws worship in sufficient quantity and quality that it empowers them to the point of godhood. Govgim Dahl is a great example. Or perhaps a brass dragon who has lurked in the neighborhood of local villages for long enough that the human folk look to it as a protector, guardian, and worship object. A solitary Illithid, lurking in a cavern 'neath a moderate city that collects human sacrifices in order to stave off its wrath.

The possibilities are endless here, and best of all, I don't have to worry about such piddling things like consistency across vast regions as pretty much everybody worships whatever strikes their superstition just the right way. It also leaves the door open to player creativity as their characters could be devout worshippers of whatever local city god or god of the forest they knew as children. It also helps me to take out the broad and sweeping religious issues such as crusades, inquisitions, and mass conversions as no single deity has that level of raw power or following. A creature with a mere thousand living worshippers is probably not going to want to risk them all in some brash attempt to increase its demesne.

This is the other method that I am leaning heavily towards for Thylia. It's suitably complicated that I can have a panoply of gods making appearances here and there, but simple enough that I can throw in another two or three at random intervals and not upset matters. Of course, the next problem this throws up is that I have to create a deity for every NPC cleric that shows their nose anywhere as it's unlikely that a PC cleric will find another of his faith outside the precincts of his home town.

I've also considered combining this with my simplified dualism, in effect putting up the three largest religions as having been, at one time, much smaller, but having grown powerful and widely over the centuries until they are nearly universal. At the same time, lesser gods grew up on their coattails and even now vie for the opportunity to ascend to that level of power. Or perhaps these lesser gods themselves even worship the Power of Light or Darkness.

The Cleric and the Faith Part III: D&D Pantheism

The most common method by far, I think (based on a completely unscientific method of pulling this statistic from my ass), of dealing with clerics, priests, and "the powers that be" in the standard fantasy role playing game, and especially in D&D, is to throw up a whole plethora of gods and godesses. Sometimes, it's a customized set of home brew gods that, for some reason always seem to feel exactly the same as every other set. There'll be Zabril, the god of death, an evil cuss who wears a black cloak (white if you're a Japanophile) and carries an appropriate weapon. Then there's Aborath, god of goodness and chivalry who appears as a white knight in shining armor who expects his clerics to bring his light into the darkest corners of the world by dint (and dent) of a mace. There'll usually be some kind of draconic god, like maybe a five headed dragon with all the colors . . . And that's all fine and dandy, but it feels most of the time just like every other variation on the theme. Every other hackneyed and half assed D&D world. And yes, I'm aware of the irony, why do you ask?

Another common use is to recycle gods from our own various mythoi, usually the popularized versions found in modern textbooks, or possibly Bullfinch, throw them all in a blender and hit "frappe." Set is the god of evil and death, Odin is a god of good and battle, Zeus is the king of the gods, and Quetzalcoatl is the god of civilization. It's all amusing, familiar, and more than a little eerie in a way to see so many of our own cultures mashed together into some frankenstinian amalgam, and it's only occasionally that somebody seems to "get it right" so to speak. It's only very occasionally that we see an Odin who is based more on his representation in the Havamal and the Sagas than on Gary's take on things.

Again, nothing wrong with it, but not where I want to go really.

Maybe it's the recent influence of HP Lovecraft on my brain, but it seems like the concept of personal and aligned deities (i.e., Shazaam the LN god of stain removers) are somehow limiting. It makes them seem like nothing more than especially powerful entities and, in some cases, they are exactly that: merely very powerful beings that started out as mortals. If the gods are nothing more than very powerful beings, then they become fodder for the swords of adventurers. Of course, this is a time honored tradition in both old and new schools of play, but it's always struck me as particularly stupid to reduce gods to that level. Gods are to humans (dwarves, elves, trolls, pixies, etc.) as humans are to bacteria, but only in comparisons of various "power levels" so to speak. They are not merely higher forms of life or even personal and sentient beings properly speaking.

In this view, the gods are, at best, the semi-sentient amalgam of the energies poured into a concept. The god of death, for instance, is not a being as we would imagine one, but the summation of all the energy spent worshipping death, advancing death, protecting death, fighting death, and so on. It is the energized and motile concept of the extinguising of life, neither good nor evil nor even neutral. It is incapable of morality in the mortal sense of the concept and to attribute sentience to it is missaimed.

The character of the worshipper is determined entirely by that worshipper and not by any dictate from the godhead (such as it is). Thus, a lawful evil congregation of the god of Death may show their devotion by decideing to bring "Death's Gift" to every living being in the world via a convoluted magical ceremony involving world spanning plots. A chaotic good worshipper may show devotion by helping fight against premature death and unnatural death: fighting the perversion of Death. A neutral congregation may take vows never to interfere one way or the other in the termination or preservation of life, but devote itself entirely to providing moderate comfort in the final passage, a hospice of sorts. In the end, the worshippers are reflections of various aspects of Death, and consequently Death itself is a reflection of the ideologies of its worshipers.

Each god would have clerics with a different assortment of available spells, perhaps each church as well. The spells available would reflect their mission and ideology.

I realize that this entire concept is wonky at best and absolutly bird brained most likely, but I think it's one that's supported by the supposed D&D mythos of AD&D 2e that I wanted to jettison a while ago. At the very least, in the Planescape books, the reality of the game world is shaped by the beliefs of its inhabitants. Thus, if somebody actually believes it, and believes in it strongly enough, it can come true. Belief is what causes entire towns and cities to slide from the Outlands into the Abyss, and, seemingly, the creation of deities.

I think the idea is an interesting one, and leads to a lot of infighting between various churches as they strive to achieve the "one true version" of their respective religions.

Somebody tell me I'm not absolutely mad?

The Cleric and the Faith Par II: Simple Dualism

The next step after "stop worrying and learn to love the class" is largely (OK, entirely) inspired by a house rule either created or carried over by one of my current GM's. I claim no initial creative impetus behind this, merely recognizing a good idea when I see it.

Faced with the same problem I am, he decided to basically invert the method of not worrying and letting every cleric be essentially the same. Instead, he asserted that there were only three religions in the world - Light/Good, Dark/Evil, and Nature - and that all potential deities of the various alignments were a part of one of the three pantheons and that each religions worshiped a whole pantheon (possibly focusing on one deity at times) rather than just an individual figure. The various priests of each religion were restricted in their permissible spells according to their religion: i.e., a priest of the Light could only cast the "positive" version of reversible spells (thus, no Inflict spells or casting Dark) while priests of Darkness could only cast the reversed spells (no casting cure light wounds for them).

What? What do you mean it's not exactly brilliant and innovative?

Ok, it's really not terribly innovative. It's really not, in the end tally, any different than just getting over a perceived fault and learning to love the game. Indeed, I'll be the first to admit that it also has a major fault: it's an example of fitting the game world to the rules rather than the rules to the game world. This is, in my opinion, what has gotten WOTC and Hasbro into such dull and terrible territory. They've created, in 3.x, some Frankenstein's monster of a rule set that veritably demands that the campaign be adjusted to fit the rules because adjusting the rules is either too much hassle or would cause a mass player revolt at perceived "unfairness" and that simply is bad game design. I'm very hesitant to set foot on that path lest it corrupt me.

However, I will say that in practice, it's really quite excellent. Again, it has the benefit of being simple and easily grasped, which is a great thing not only for new players, but for old players too and it's currently the mode I am considering most strongly for Thylia, but taken another step forward.

Instead of lumping the various gods and godesses (and other, genderless divine and semi-divine entities) into three "faiths," I want to strip out all of said deities and leave the frameworks as the net result. Thus, a cleric of the light does not worship a vague pantheon of good aligned deities, a good aligned cleric will worship the ideals of the religion of Light (i.e., goodness, love/agape, etc.) while an evil cleric will follow the tenets of the religion of Darkness (self-interest, evil, etc.). Nature, of course, can be thrown in to turn dualism into . . . "trinarism"? Of course, I've never been able to settle on whether druids actually worship Nature, or worship The Balance as exemplified by Nature. I've always been certain (mostly) that no self-respecting druid would worhship a deity at all and any reference to druidic deities must be chalked up to stupidity, momentary or otherwise.

Whether or not these various faiths are antagonistic towards one another is something that I simply haven't decided. While the idea of followers of Darkness being semi-productive members of society, and the two churches existing side by side, is aluring, it brings up questions that I don't really feel willing to answer, at least not at this point. Such as why otherwise good and civilized peoples tolerate the presence of a religion dedicated to evil acts right under their noses. Or how the two exist side by side without inciting vicious holy wars and blood baths in the streets: maybe they don't, that might be an interesting setup for an adventure. It can certainly add layers of complication and interest, but, in my mind, it seems to detract from an otherwise heroic atmosphere, something that I strive for.

Of course, a major problem with this whole thing is avoiding the Crystal Dragon Jesus meme. Or maybe I don't entirely want to avoid it? This is certainly a way for "normal fantasy" to pop up: an anchor point of semi-normalcy for players to grab hold of while the wierd shit goes on all around them and helps to focus the game less on the fantasy and more on the PC's. This is one of those waffling topics round these parts. Hell, I've actually seriously considered just importing Martin's "Faith of the Seven" whole hog into the game with absolutely no apologies whatsoever.

Well, anyway, next time, talk begins about pantheons of various gods, custom built. I anticipate that discussion to take at least two or three posts of this size or longer to cover, so if you're bored or antagonized by such talk, I apologize now. If you like to listen to me talk about such things, then I have to wonder just how crazy you really are.

The Cleric and the Faith Part I

This is not a post about the historical, mythological, or fictional origins and inspirations of the Cleric/Priest class in D&D (specifically at this point, AD&D 2e which is the mode of most mechanics that will appear here). Other, worthier folk either have done this or will do it in the future. I'm not going to ruminate about the appropriateness of the cleric class - a decidedly Christian class (along with the Paladin) in a game that is open to extended pantheons as James over at Grognardia already has pointed out here - or whether or not it should be included in the game here. Whatever chicken hatched from or laid whatever egg is now long past any point of return, in my opinion, as at some point, the practitioner of faith and miracles has now long been an integral part of the game and, in some ways, the fantasy genre at large. Whether it is more native to Pulp Fiction, Modern Fantasy, or Fantasy Gaming than any other is not something I want to debate at this moment.

For right now, I want to talk about how to make the cleric fit the world, and perhaps make the world fit the cleric. Too often I think, the cleric in AD&D, BECMI, and OD&D games gets pigeon-holed into the same corner as the guy that can heal the fighters and maybe ward off the undead from time to time, except in how the player portrays the character. And all to often, the player gets bullied by the rest of the group, or by simple practicality, into falling into that role at least some of the time. Most irksome, to me at least, is that a cleric of Odin looks pretty much like a cleric of Nerull looks a great deal like a cleric of Quetzalcoatl. Why would a cleric of a god of civilization and peace or of romantic love have the same portfolio of powers as a follower of the Dread Cthulhu?

Of course, the first, and simplest answer is to sit back and say "don't worry about it, it's just a freakin' game." And honestly, I can accept that. It's not really a problem that all clerics, despite their object of worship (or too often, lack thereof) wield identical powers. After all, for the most part a fighter is a fighter no matter what race he belongs to, the same for a thief for that matter. It simplifies things greatly, especially in a game system where simplicity is a major goal like Basic/Labyrinth Lord, or Swords and Wizardry.

The problem, for me, emerges when it's just not acceptable to ignore this bit of wrinkle. Many times (not always) I want clerics of various deities or faiths to be not just different in lip service, but truly unique. I want the players to wonder and guess at what powers the cleric of Random Death Cult Z are and how to prepare before facing him. Or, I want an in world explanation of why all clerics are all the same mechanically.

Is this multiplying entities? Yeah, it is, but I think that, done carefully, it can lead to more fulfilling games from my perspective as the GM, and more interesting (read "dangerous) games for the players. Does this tread dangerously close to the Third Edition mantra of "no choice without a mechanical benefit"? Yes, but I'm ok with that for the time being. Like I said way back in the beginning, I think that there's something to be said for everything in moderation. That, and I feel that I can draw a line in the sand before I arrive at feats, domain powers, and "optimization."

Up tomorrow sometime: Manicheism.