The Mages of Reality
Recently I was re-reading the fictional series Pillars of Reality by Jack Campbell. I classify it as a “young adult” series of six books that’s most science fiction with a little fantasy (mage prophecy) thrown in. I like it a lot if, enough to re-read it; I highly recommend reading Campbell’s Lost Fleet series and spinoffs.But it was one aspect of the books that caught my attention in relation to game design. The “mages” in the books, who do things through the power of their minds, can detect the nearby presence of other mages, and always notice when a (powerful) spell is being “cast” nearby (hundreds of yards). Sometimes they can even recognize the identity of the individual caster. On the other hand, a mage can try to consciously cloak his presence so that he or she won’t be detected, though this doesn’t extend to “casting.”
How different would these abilities make most fantasy role-playing games, including Dungeons & Dragons?
Subtle Sorcery
We previously discussed how the perception of magic is handled, and the implications thereof: Imagine if you’re on an adventure and your magic user (MU) is detected by someone that you don’t even know is there, simply because the MU exists. Or if not that extreme, imagine that whenever your MU casts a spell, any other spellcaster nearby knows that it’s happening and even has some notion of what the spell is at least in terms of strength/power. Even when you’re trying to hide in a crowd (in a city), your MU may be detected.That simple change – that magic can be detected in a non-obvious manner – can make a big difference to how magic and adventuring works in your game. You, as a game designer, may be able to anticipate some of those consequences, but there are frequently unintended consequences with any big rule change in any game. The more experienced the designer, the more likely they are to anticipate those consequences. But this is a reason why we conduct playtesting, because a designer frequently won’t notice all the consequences, and we hope they will show up in extensive playtesting. Of course, that’s not always true.
Not So Subtle
A famous example is the two-player board game A Few Acres of Snow that turned out after publication to have an always-correct solution (“Halifax Hammer”) not detected in playtesting. Fortunately it was possible to change the rules to suppress this, though occasionally an opportunity to use that solution still occurs.Often when such an unintended consequence occurs, it requires a rule change if it's drastic enough (as with A Few Acres of Snow). In D&D, the movement of stinking cloud from second to third level in a new edition of the rules was done because people found too many powerful ways to employ the spell. (Some may think web ought to be moved as well.)
D&D players can ask themselves, what if there were no fireballs or lightning bolts? That would limit fantasy "artillery" immensely, changing tactics. What about no web or stinking cloud? What if long-distance communication spells were plentiful? D&D, and many fantasy settings in general, assume that communication is as slow as ordinary transport.
What if long-distance travel was common and safe? What if mind-reading (via spell) was widespread? What if ships could fly (oh, we’ve already done that one with Spelljammer; but there are lots of other ways to do it)?
Choose Your Weapon
When new editions come along, it can be difficult to determine how much a game changes just by a few tweaks. Adding a new spell to a class list, changing a species’ classification, or changing how magic can seem like minor changes at first … until a battle pivots on a failed saving throw.For game masters, it’s important to consider the implications of these changes; they can make a vast difference in how things go. Sometimes, the only way to find out what those changes are is to play through them. With the new edition of Dungeons & Dragons, we’re about to find out.
You Turn: What single change to magic in your game has changed your gameplay?
