The nature of High/Low Magic

[hong]

From lurking around these boards, I've witnessed a vocal group (Minority? Not sure.) of folks who prefer low magic games. And, after reflecting on my 2 year high magic rollicking Forgotten Realms game which is now drawing to a close, I think I may be permanently beginning to side with the low magic group.

Strange. After two years of playing a game that finally ended at 21st level, I can honestly say I never want to go back to slogging through the mud, killing dire rats, ever again. Or at least for the foreseeable future.

Note that in terms of the bigger picture, what D&D calls high magic isn't the top end of the scale. Starting characters in Exalted can match and outdo even epic-level stuff, and the same holds for the elder guys in other White Wolf games like Vampire. Those in Nobilis are literally gods (or at least godlings).

The complaints about D&D-style "high magic" usually center around four things:
1. Widespread magic leads to difficulties with world design and verisimilitude, especially if you're after that gritty, mud-slogging feel.

2. Spells like scrying and teleport obviate many of the more classic adventure setups, like journeying cross-country or sleuthing for clues, while resurrection cheapens death.

3. Many of the character classes gain their powers through magic items, which leads to the golfbag-of-items feel.

4. Being able to do stuff like fly, chuck fireballs around, and whatnot goes against the grain of typical Western fantasy.

Point 1 is really only an issue with _widespread_ magic. It's easy to fall into the trap of thinking that just because the campaign centers around 4-6 people with magic up to their eyeballs, the rest of the world must be like that. But that's not the case. PCs by definition are exceptional; just because they have lots of magic doesn't have any necessary implication for everyone else. At most, it implies that the NPCs (allies or adversaries) they encounter will be likely to have similar levels of magic: powerful people attract the attention of other powerful people (or, at a metagame level, because that's the simplest way to present an adequate challenge to the players). These NPCs themselves can still be a tiny proportion of the total population of the world.

Point 2 has the most direct implications for adventure and campaign design. You could certainly nerf spells like scry and teleport without a great deal of complaint from a lot of people. You could even nerf resurrect, or at least make it harder to survive, but this can have repercussions for an ongoing campaign; it's stupidly easy to get killed at high levels, and without some means of coming back, continuity can get shot to heck. However, this is only one aspect of the overall high-magic feel; you can nerf all these things and still have people flying around, fireballs and flamestrikes going off, critical hits for 125 points of damage, etc.

Point 3 is really a suspension-of-disbelief issue: it's not so much the powers themselves, as how they're presented in the context of the game world. If you change the presentation, the problem goes away. I do this IMC with an imbued-magic setup, whereby people can gain powers similar to those from magic items, by spending XP. It's like a halfway-house to games like HERO or Exalted, where you get just as many (or even more) powers, but it's all part of the characters themselves. It's easier to handle if you're used to thinking in effects-based terms: what matters most is the power itself, rather than the in-game explanation.

Point 4 is the most subjective. Basically, if you _want_ to be low-key, gritty, and slogging through the mud, then it doesn't matter what tweaks you make to the system, it's not going to work for you. That said, making up specious rationalisations for _why_ you like it doesn't really do you any favours. And besides, there are more flavours to fantasy than just Conan or LotR. Some of the stunts pulled by people in Greek myths can easily be thought of as fodder for a high (if not epic) level game; people fly and sail through the air all the time in wuxia stories; etc.

I think the problem is a lack of challenge inherent in the setting. What I mean by this is the difficulty of feeding, clothing, and healing yourself. The problems you have just getting by. Not that that sort of thing should necessarily be the forefront of the game (though tastes vary), but the players KNOW that their characters don't have to worry about it. They know that they won't die permanently unless someone really has it in for them - they're powerful and have friends. They know they won't have serious difficulty prepping for the next mission. In short, except for the whole risking pain and dismemberment thing, life is pretty good for them.

See, here you admit yourself that you WANT to be gritty, slogging through the mud, and so on. And that's fine. But that has nothing to do with "challenge", as the word is commonly understood. Indeed, some of the most tension-filled moments I've experienced have been as part of a twinked-out 17th level party, facing off against a CR 23 winterwight. The game was high magic by any definition, and I can tell you, we were still soiling ourselves every time we met one of those buggers.

If anything, life gets even more challenging at high levels, when you start to attract the attention of CR 23 winterwights (and the things that command them). Just say that you don't have _fun_ throwing around oddball creatures like winterwights, and we can both agree.

The key to drama is conflict, and lots of it. And in a lot of ways, the ability to cast powerful magics eliminates a great deal of the drama that we can easily relate to.

You can have just as much drama, tension and conflict with lots of super powers as without. Super powers won't make someone love you, and they won't make someone stop hating you. You can cast dominate person and make someone your _puppet_, but that's not really the same, especially if your intention really is to create situations with plenty of potential for drama or human conflict.

As said above, yes, you can nerf stuff like teleport and resurrect if they cheapen some aspects of the game too much for your liking. You will still have larger-than-life characters who do larger-than-life stuff (which is essentially what high magic entails), even if they now have more opportunities for ANGST[tm].

I could try enforcing this stuff, basically making a high magic game "grim n' gritty", but the reality is that my players, despite being gaming geeks all, don't know every remove nuance of the rules, and this stuff would appear to come out of freakin nowhere. They don't know how they should magically secure their bedrooms, even if their characters do, but they understand avoiding pickpockets. It's tough to grasp being kind of wonky with your fighting style because you're integrating those new boots of speed and ring of improved blur into your combat technique, but they can understand being a bit off because you're tired, hungry and dirty.

So don't do it. Don't take the D&D ruleset and overthink it.

D&D is a ruleset designed purely and simply to facilitate what most gamers want to do, most of the time: adventure. The most common style of play is to go into dungeons, kill monsters, and take their stuff. For that, the stuff that D&D lets you do is great. However, it also has limitations, in particular in the field of designing a credible and self-consistent world. Think of the ruleset as facilitating and showcasing the actions of characters on a stage: the focus should be on whoever's on the stage, and the stage hands and props are basically just decoration. This has been the way of D&D since its inception: gamist through and through, even if 3E makes some concessions for the simulationists.

One last thing: no matter what anyone says, only you can decide whether you're going to have fun with high magic. The choice to accept the idiosyncrasies and irrationalities inherent in high magic is a conscious decision, one that only you can make. One thing that can be said here is that idiosyncrasies and irrationalities will be inherent in _any_ sort of fantasy world, if you dig deep enough; high magic just makes it a bit more obvious.

 

[Hjorimir]

I was going to cite Sep's work, but Joshua caught me flat-footed. I used to think that you had to have low magic to really challenge your players, but after reading his story hour I've come to the conclusion that it was only a poorly conceived campaign on my part that limited the high level drama I was looking for.

Going back to the original post, I agree that it would be hard on your players to change up your tactics on them at this point and I had the same problem with my last campaign that I shut down at about 15th level. I have since spoken at some length (probably boring my players to tears) warning them about things like teleporting death squad tactics and to expect reprisals and similar tactics from their opponents this time around.

Should be interesting.

 

[mmadsen]

The key to drama is conflict, and lots of it. And in a lot of ways, the ability to cast powerful magics eliminates a great deal of the drama that we can easily relate to.

I think this needs to be emphasized: Powerful magic does not eliminate the challenge or conflict of a game; it just means that the challenge or conflict must address that powerful magic. And that means powerful magic versus powerful magic, in a world increasingly defined by the rules of magic - and thus increasingly difficult to relate to.

 

[mmadsen]

Where the argument really begins is that we low magic folks think that, by definition, high magic removes conflict/tension/drama, and those on the other side of the argument swear that high magic and drama can coexist.

I have to agree with Joshua Randall that "it is simply ludicrous to say that high magic and drama are mutually exclusive." High magic and drama that we can easily relate to may be mutually exclusive, but certainly some people find their high-magic games plenty dramatic.

Personally, I haven't yet seen the DM who can juggle drama with high magic -- it seems to me they can only re-inject drama into the game by "nerfing" magical abilities or creating convoluted ways to deprive the players of the very high magic resources they swear by.

I'm reminded of Gygax's classic Descent into the Depths of the Earth (and sequels). Teleportation doesn't work, the Kuo-Toa are designed with immunities to many powers, etc.

 

[Desdichado]

D&D is a ruleset designed purely and simply to facilitate what most gamers want to do, most of the time: adventure. The most common style of play is to go into dungeons, kill monsters, and take their stuff. For that, the stuff that D&D lets you do is great. However, it also has limitations, in particular in the field of designing a credible and self-consistent world. Think of the ruleset as facilitating and showcasing the actions of characters on a stage: the focus should be on whoever's on the stage, and the stage hands and props are basically just decoration. This has been the way of D&D since its inception: gamist through and through, even if 3E makes some concessions for the simulationists.

Ah, hong, despite your generally quite flippant attitude, it's posts like this that remind me why I still read your posts. Brilliantly put, in my opinion, and does a better job of getting to the heart of the matter than most others.

One last thing: no matter what anyone says, only you can decide whether you're going to have fun with high magic. The choice to accept the idiosyncrasies and irrationalities inherent in high magic is a conscious decision, one that only you can make. One thing that can be said here is that idiosyncrasies and irrationalities will be inherent in _any_ sort of fantasy world, if you dig deep enough; high magic just makes it a bit more obvious.

Righto.

 

[mmadsen]

After two years of playing a game that finally ended at 21st level, I can honestly say I never want to go back to slogging through the mud, killing dire rats, ever again.

Because "low magic" is all about killing dire rats. In the mud.

Note that in terms of the bigger picture, what D&D calls high magic isn't the top end of the scale. Starting characters in Exalted can match and outdo even epic-level stuff, and the same holds for the elder guys in other White Wolf games like Vampire. Those in Nobilis are literally gods (or at least godlings).

As you point out later, the "high magic" complaint isn't about the power level of the most powerful characters but about the prevalence of magic -- and how D&D magic's flavor (scry-buff-teleport, fly-invis-fireball) doesn't match classic fantasy's flavor.

 

[Wulf Ratbane]

I think it's a two way street, mind you; if a person decides that you can't have drama in a high lvl/high magic game, it's possible to create a character that specifically doesn't get emotionally involved, thus creating a self-fulfilling (and self-defeating) prophecy. I think that's deliberately crippling your fun potential.

Sort of a circular argument-- I can certainly see where you're coming from. I think that my egg comes before your chicken, but I wouldn't swear to it. I think I maintain some emotional detachment because (limited in roleplaying capacity as I am) I know I will have a hard time forcing myself to explain away things that should be easily solved by high magic, but for some reason aren't.

Let's say a beloved PC dies.

Now, the obvious answer is a true resurrection.

If that beloved PC decides not to come back, it's not like my character should suddenly feel this huge sense of loss. "Oh? Better on the other side, eh? Ok, should I start mourning?"

I just feel a little cheated by that. Some characters deserve to be properly mourned, don't you think? They deserve to be properly dead, in some cases.

But often the great conflicts seen to boil down to high-level characters that choose not to avail themselves of their resources, or the GM mysteriously stripping them of those resources.

By the way, this in no way means that "fun" and "high-level play" are mutually exclusive. I am playing and having fun. But there is that emotional detachment; as the D&D rules are geared towards "killing things and taking their stuff," (a style of play I enjoy greatly), getting a dramatic story out of that ruleset may very well be like putting square pegs into round holes.

Wulf

 

[diaglo]

3. Many of the character classes gain their powers through magic items, which leads to the golfbag-of-items feel.

yeah, don't forget to mention the ye olde majick item shoppes too.

or the cheapening of magic by using modern methods in a medieval fantasy setting... like credit cards. yeah, i'm currently playing in a campaign with magic cards of credit.

 

[I'm A Banana]

But there is that emotional detachment; as the D&D rules are geared towards "killing things and taking their stuff," (a style of play I enjoy greatly), getting a dramatic story out of that ruleset may very well be like putting square pegs into round holes.

For every example you can present that says "resurrection makes death meaningless!" I can read someone else's post about CR 23 Winterwights and soiling themselves.

So either tell me why people facing Winterwights shouldn't crap their capri's, or face up to the concept that drama and conflict can exist just as much in a high magic, high level game as in a low magic, low level game. Either way, people are either darn good at forcing pegs into holes or you just haven't had a set of experiences conducive to realizing that it's not a square peg.

In my perspective, once you reach high levels, there's more at stake here than just your piddly little lives. You may be heroes, but not everyone is, and it is the world your are trying to save, not just your own asses. Failure can come in flavors without a gravestone, after all. That is the challenge of high levels and high magic -- you're not fighting skeletons who are coming through the town, the farmers and constubalry cna fight them just as well. You're putting an end to the *origin* of the skeletons, a necromancer who knows where you live and brings the battle to your doorstep and does not relent.

This is, in my opinion, a *lot* more dramatic and emotional than Dwarfy McDrunkenpants and his daily struggle against the powerful orcish horde. When you have to use the powerful magic at your disposal just to protect the ones you love, who are now depending upon you as a hero to rescue them, and the ones who die blame you as a hero for not rescuing them.

 

[Elder-Basilisk]

Let's say a beloved PC dies.

Now, the obvious answer is a true resurrection.

If that beloved PC decides not to come back, it's not like my character should suddenly feel this huge sense of loss. "Oh? Better on the other side, eh? Ok, should I start mourning?"

I just feel a little cheated by that. Some characters deserve to be properly mourned, don't you think? They deserve to be properly dead, in some cases.

One ought to point out that there is not necessarily any disconnect between mourning death and believing that the dead people have passed on to a new and better life. Both of those have been standard Christian practice and theology for nearly two millenia. I'm not really up on literature on the subject but you might find C.S. Lewis's A Grief Observed instructive as an example of how one might reconcile mourning with the faith that the dead individual has a better life now than before. I haven't looked at them but the standard Roman Catholic and Greek Orthodox funeral liturgies might be helpful too.

But often the great conflicts seen to boil down to high-level characters that choose not to avail themselves of their resources, or the GM mysteriously stripping them of those resources.

I've seen that a lot too and I think it really comes down to what you later call trying to fit round pegs into square holes. High level characters have different kinds of adventures than low and mid-level characters. Sep's story hour is a good example of this. His characters are not trying to solve a murder mystery or rescue a princess from being eaten by a dragon. They are (or at least were) attempting to bring down a demon lord and change the power structure of a kingdom. High level characters do that kind of thing. They shake the pillars of the earth when they move. Trying to run them through essentially low-level plots is as much a case of square peg, round hole as trying to fit Sigurd into the saga of the Heath Slayings. He simply doesn't fit on the small stage.