GLAUGUST #3 - Futility of categorization (Microfiction)

"The first thing you must disabuse yourself of is that there is any such thing as magic." Spake the old wizard Kaitos. It was, his apprentice thought, not the most auspicious start to his first true magic lesson.

"But master, how can you say that when I have seen you work magic before?" Abe wheedled.

"Oh, have you?" The old sophist smirkingly condescended, stroking his grey beard as he regarded the boy sitting crosslegged on his workroom rug. "What magic exactly do you remember me working?"

Abe bristled at the tone, and struggled not to let it show on his face; though he was sure it did. Just when he thought he had proven himself capable and responsible enough to be let into the wizard's confidences and gain the wondrous treasures of knowledge he had been promised, so it turned out to be yet another opportunity for the lore-miser to humble him further.

"I have witnessed you brew potions for castle lords going off to battle that can do in moments what takes a physicker weeks or months to heal, I have seen you bewitch the mind of a peasant who darkened your door, I have seen you call unwholesome spirits into a chalk circle and scribe amulets with celestial figures that can turn away any blade or arrow arrayed against the bearer." Abe said, arms folded resolutely. "How can you do such things and tell me there is no such thing as magic? You cannot expect me to believe that such feats are all mummery!"

"Mummery? Who said anything about mummery!?" Kaitos cried out, drawing himself up to his full height in indignation. "You reckon me for an actor? Lower even than a harlot, whose work at least has the virtue of truth? Is that what you think my implication is, boy? Or was I wasting my breath teaching you what rudiments of rhetoric will fit in your peasant skull?"

Rhetoric? So, this was a test, not a lecture. He had missed something vital in his master's meaning.

"So... the works you enacted are true, but magic is not? So, they are not magic but part of natural philosophy?" The boy hazarded. At this is master let out a bark of derision.

"Philosophy? No, no, no, boy. There is no philosophy to it. What constancy can one expect of djinn? What can you learn about God from the hypnotic Will? Philosophy forms a corpus, a chain of wisdom in which each link must be bound to its neighbours." The greymaned flummoxer decreed. "Think, boy, prove I haven't been wasting my wisdom on your misbegotten ears."

Abe frowned at this, and set his chin upon his fist as the woodcuts showed great minds of antiquity in thought, as if that too would act as a talisman. After a long moment of silence, his eyes lit up.

"There's no link between them at all! That's what you mean!" The apprentice cawed, delightedly.

Kaitos gathered his beard in the ring of his thumb and forefinger and swept it to a point, as he was want to do when mildly pleased, and Abe knew he had hit the mark. Nevertheless his master commanded "Expound."

"The distillation of virtues into forms that can be imbibed, the empowerment and projection of spiritus to influence that of another, the geometries and resonances that can call up and command all manner of creatures of the upper air, and the correspondences that can entangle a disc of pure metal with the influence of the stars. The one thing these all have in common; nothing. They are all distinct and divisible acts, in no way related to each other in theory or practice. There is no such thing as magic, for magic is a blanket thrown over a collection of unrelated mysteries." Abe folded his arms in satisfaction, sure that was right.

"At last, we come upon the exactitude." Kaitos responded, his beard having been smoothed into a fox's tail. "Yes boy, let it be known that every spell cast, every philter poured from your cauldron, every meditation and eastern art, all of them are singular mysteries, clawed from the baffling darkness at the edges of the world."

"So you are an actor then, pretending at scholarship." Abe replied, so buoyed up was he by his triumph over his master's pettifoggery. Correct though he was, there was a second part to the lesson - that even though there was no such thing as magic, there was such a thing as the Spell of Batrachification.

-

TLDR; D&D (by which I mean OD&D, BX and AD&D derivatives) already does this. Some spells use words, some use gestures, some use components, some use a combination of the three. Some last all day, some are over in a flash. Some have weird esoteric little exceptions and caveats, like needing to use a powdered luckstone - a magic item in its own right! - as a spell component to get the best results out of an Identify spell. There is no true systemisation of magic in D&D, and it's better that way.

GLAUGUST #2 - Books As Treasure. No Spellbooks.

This picture just screams "Adventurer in a Library"

This picture just screams "Adventurer in a Library"

The second GLAUGUST post. Time is running out, so I'll keep this one short;

When a party or individual acquires a book, they gain a Library rating. Most books supply +d3 Library, but particularly comprehensive works such as whole sets of encyclopedias might provide a great deal more. The uses of Library are as so;

Research: Roll under your Library rating to uncover a useful fact relating to a particular topic you're researching. This can be either a Short-Term or Long-Term study, depending on the topic. Examples include;

• Short Term: The attributes of a monster species, what would be the outcome of two given spells or items interacting, the genealogy of a public figure. Takes 2d6 hours.
• Long Term: Leads to the location of a lost dungeon, a way of improving a common piece of equipment such as the telescoping 10' pole or the paracord rope, the location of a specific magic item. Takes 2d6 days.

Identification: You can determine the exact properties and history of a magic or historically significant object, including its approximate value. Success also identifies any possible curses and the means to break them. Takes 2d6 Turns.

If successful, subtract d3 from your Library, as that topic is now exhausted from your available research materials. If unsuccessful, that topic cannot be researched again until you have increased your Library rating.

Trivial questions such as the location of a well-known city or landmark, only 10 minutes and a roll under the current Library rating is required, and nothing is lost in the event of success. However that subject is still off-limits until the Library is added to.

GLAUGUST #1 - KING OF LIES - Spells of the Evil King

GLAUGUST GLAUGUST GLAUGUST

The most terrible wizard-king in all of history wasn't a necromancer, or a diabolist or anything like that. If he had been his reign would have been shorter, we would have seen what he was doing and opposed him sooner. No, he was an illusionist.

Mark of the Beast
It all seemed innocent enough at first, just a way of keeping in contact with his officials. It seemed modern, convenient. But this is where it all started to go wrong.
The subject, who must be willing and have HD no higher than the [dice] of the spell at the time of casting, acquires a permanent psychic connection to the caster, physically manifesting in the form of a symbolic tattoo in a location on the body chosen by the caster. The subject can specify circumstances under which their connection will be suppressed or broken at the time of the casting, typically to permit them a period of privacy and a way of permanently breaking the connection. The mark need not be in a place immediately visible, it can for example be located on the inside of an eyelid or under the tongue. This connection allows the caster to at any time appear before the subject, to speak and listen as if they were in the same room, though the caster is only visible to the subject and any others in the area who bear the same mark.

DoppelGangstalking
Imagine how powerful a wizard you have to be to make politicians worse.
Any of the Evil King's inner circle who were insufficiently loyal were subject to this spell. None of them were sufficiently loyal. The spell produces a living illusionary copy of someone bearing the caster's Mark of the Beast. This doppelganger is absolutely obedient to the word of the caster's commands, but they are ontologically evil and will twist any order to the goal of maximizing human suffering if it is given any leeway to. The doppelganger discorporates into mist by the next dawn if it does not kill its original, so that is usually its first command. As an illusion, it can only exist while observed by another living being, but once it kills its original it is able to inhabit their body and thus gain permanent observation by the caster through the Mark. All actions taken by the doppelganger are illusory, but can still result in harm or death of others through psychospiritual shock. Victims of the doppelganger with HD that exceed the [dice] used to conjure it may Save vs. its attacks and abilities (typically identical to those possessed by its original), even if those abilities would not normally allow a Save, due to their phantasmal nature.

Skillshare
Fundamentally, he didn't want to rule a kingdom, but a clock made of interchangeable gears.
The caster transfers [dice] skills or abilities held by any subjects bearing his Mark of the Beast to either himself or any other, for [sum] Turns. The original loses the abilities and skills transferred for the duration.

Antimemetics
Inconvenient truths had to be pruned to maintain the system he had created.
The caster spiritually poisons an idea, which they then convey to another. This could be the memory of a person, an event, a piece of media, an idiom or a philosophical or political stance, or even a language. Very basic primal core concepts, particularly those that are biologically essential, are too resilient to be targeted, at the DM's discretion. The person initially subjected to the spell must Save or find the idea gradually fading into incomprehensibility over the course of a week, until it eventually becomes a mental blindspot they cannot even imagine. Any time they discuss it even in passing with another person capable of understanding them, that person too must Save or have the idea poisoned for them too. This continues on for [dice] degrees of separation. Antimemetics does not permit a Save to anyone bearing the caster's Mark of the Beast.

Perception Filter
Eventually, prophylactic measures had to be taken.
The caster can designate any number of immobile features of the world that the subjects become unable to perceive or conceptualise. Against unmarked subjects this lasts [sum] Turns, Save negating. Bearers of the caster's Mark of the Beast are not permitted a Save, and can all be freely made subject to perceptual filtration for as long as the caster chooses to keep 1MD dedicated to the task.

Loophole
And so the illusion of choice came crashing down.
The caster can fundamentally alter [best] clauses of some binding gease or contract established through magic, without being subject to the normal penalties for breaking it. The cost is that this places the caster into spiritual superposition for 1 year per clause altered, during which time if they are slain their soul is utterly obliterated beyond the possibility of revival even through divine intervention. There is however nothing stopping the caster stacking the time they spend in this state infinitely.

Eidolise
Eventually the only people he trusted were figments of his imagination. That didn't hinder him much.
The caster manifests a sublime thoughtform, all but indistinguishable from reality. This is similar to a doppelganger but is perfectly obedient to the caster's will, not just their stated words. It can be of anyone or anything the caster has ever known, or even created purely from the caster's imagination, though in this case the resultant Eidolon will be vaguer and less believable, permitting a Save vs. its abilities to negate even for those that do not normally permit Saves, and having half normal effect even on a failure where a Save is permitted. When creating an Eidolon of a specific individual or monster, it cannot manifest any power or skill that the caster has not seen the original employ. The Eidolon costs 1MD per HD to create, and remains in existence as long as the caster is willing (and able) to roll the requisite MD each morning to maintain it. As with a Doppelganger, an Eidolon cannot exist when unobserved by a sentient being. 

Dungeon Stuffers - No more empty rooms!

I hate reading a dungeon and finding it full of empty rooms. It's a pet peeve; adventures should be full of adventure! Can you imagine the horror of finding an empty chest? Repugnant. So here's some ideas for things to stick in them.

1. The Bishop's Hidden Bath Chamber
The room contains an altar with a threadbare embroidered covering, two braziers and a small statue of Hygeia (or whoever the god of health or purity is in your setting) - all remarkably still standing upright despite being clearly long abandoned.

If inspected closely it will be revealed that both the braziers and the statue are built into the altar stone, not separate objects, and that the statue rotates on its base 180°.

If both braziers are lit and the statue is fully rotated so that it is facing against the wall, then a hydraulic pressure system that exploits the expanding air from the brazier's heat will cause the altar and the wall behind it to slowly rotate to reveal the room beyond (see below). If the statue is returned to its original position then it will rotate closed again (this is powered by a spring, and doesn't require the braziers to still be lit).

The room beyond contains a miraculously located natural hot spring with restorative powers. Anyone bathing in it for an hour will heal 1hp per Hit Die they possess, be cleansed of any natural diseases or parasites of the skin or muscles and restore 1 point of lost Strength, Constitution or Dexterity. 

Two curtains hide the sides of the room, behind each of which is a chest for storing clothes and personal belongings. The chest on the right has a ceremonial amulet of gold and garnets worth 1200gp. The chest on the left contains a bottle of liquid soap and perfumes (worth about 200gp) and a animated statue of a lithe young woman as a bathroom attendant (stats as Caryatid Column), which will attack anyone not wearing the amulet from the chest on the right, seeking to expel them from the room rather than cause serious injury.

2. The Window Office
The room contains a simple office, with a large and ornately carved mahogany desk and high-backed chair (worth 3,400gp as a set, 1000gp and 200gp individually. Both items of furniture are extremely heavy and easily damaged without considerations being made, a Tenser's Floating Disc at the minimum would be needed to easily extract them) in front of a large arched window.

Examination of the desk drawers will reveal a bottle of rough whiskey and a hand crossbow loaded with a poisoned quarrel (Type B, Insinuative) in the bottom right drawer. A full turn spent examining it will reveal a concealed button in the carvings that if pushed will release a hidden drawer containing a map of this whole dungeon level, including secret doors.

The window behind the desk shows a pastoral vista that changes with the day and night outside but on examination does not correlate to the actual scenery outside the dungeon (indeed, this room is probably subterranean or internal). The display is an illusion, behind which lurks a Homunculus named Gaxplat who hid there when it heard the door open (if the party is quiet enough, he will instead be sitting behind the desk with his feet up, drinking from the whiskey bottle). Gaxplat will bite the hand of anyone who reaches past the illusionary image, causing d3 damage and provoking a save vs. magic or falling into a comatose slumber for 5d4 minutes, after which it will attempt to flee out the door holding its master's spellbook (containing 22 random spells of levels 1-6).

3. The Snoring Djinn
This room isn't just empty, it's been swept clean by a powerful wind blowing from a whirling vortex on the far wall. All dust in the room has been rammed into the near wall so hard it has formed a permanent crust. The wind that emerges from the vortex isn't constant, but acts as a Gust of Wind spell but strong enough to affect man-sized creatures as if they were small flying beings and trigger a Save vs. Breath Weapons or cause the affected to fall prone. This gust triggers at a random initiative count in every round. The side walls are relatively unaffected but anyone standing in the doorway when the wind triggers will be pushed back as well. Floating either side of the vortex are a air elemental, with their gaseous form still able to support crested ceremonial helmets upon their cloudlike heads and holding ornate halberds (stats as normal elemental, but with AC1). These will attack anyone attempting to pass through the vortex, and will pursue them past it.

On the other side of the vortex, the wind continues to blow and flaps a aquamarine silk curtain beyond which can be seen a well appointed bedroom. Upon the bed lies a hugely fat Djinn in sleep, whose snores cause the gusts. Waking him will immediately end the wind gusts and provoke a reaction roll, but if not awakened gently this roll will be made at -6. The Djinn, named Bompa al-Rih, if not hostile with his awakener will realize that he has overslept and is now 3,000 years late for an appointment with the Ambassador of the Marids and will be in a hurry to dress and leave through the door to the northwest, which opens out into a vista of endless sky - the Elemental Plane of Air. He will thank the party and promise to grant them a Wish when he returns from his appointment - on each subsequent roll of a 6 on the encounter roll, roll again; on a second 6 he is finished and teleports before the party, mopping his brow with a silk handkerchief and a harrowed expression, to bestow them their Wish.

Play Report - The Bile Rises, Part 1

This being the account of Zog, of the Tribe of the Rising Bile,

I write this at the behest of the Bloody Steward we found in a locked chamber underneath the House of Rituals, some ancient ghost or magical construct - its true nature I cannot discern, only that it is hungry for knowledge, and is willing to part with much in return. Knowledge that will reveal to me the path to great power.

We awoke to darkness, crushing pressure, and a miasmatic stink that filled our senses. All we could do was writhe, like worms in the filth, struggling for breath, until finally we found the surface - a charnel pit of corpses much like ourselves. We were as children born anew, but born not in soft innocence but in bodies that were healthy, strong, and sharp as knives. We were instantly curious and emerged blinking into a world new and filled with dangers we were yet ignorant of. 

At first, we were drunk with the thrill of discovery, forging ahead in every direction, finding islands that floated in the air like clouds and a tree tall enough to touch them, and ants the size of mastiffs. Industrious, as if by instinct, we clothed ourselves in armour of treebark and armed ourselves with cudgels of stone and branch. Content, we slept in the branches of a tall tree. And then we awoke again in darkness.

Every day that passed, we died and were reborn again. It seemed we were crudely immortal, at least until the pit ran dry - what would happen then, we could not say and still cannot, so vast is the pile of corpses. 

The next day, we followed faerie lights into the swamp, where colossal stag beetles clashed in some instinctual rite. Pensively, we left them engaged in their battle and crept past. The lights led us to a marvellous pool that shimmered with rainbow light. Two of our number decided to bathe in it, and while the experience was wonderful, both found themselves unwilling to leave and peacefully died. One of us, who named himself Krudge, awoke changed in some subtle way. His eyes glittered with some strange inner light, and his hearing was sharper than ever, though his ears were outwardly unchanged.

This change, whatever it was, did not help him, however, when we found a strange dedicatory pillar with an offering bowl at its base. Krudge, his greed consuming him, took the offering bowl for the small pile of gold it contained and was immediately struck dead. For the next whole day, he felt a sense of doom, but nothing further transpired. Meanwhile, another of our number, Blurk, found a phial of purple goo while exploring and as is the custom when encountering strange fluids in the wilderness, immediately drank it down. He has suffered persistent headaches ever since.

The next day, the sky rained hot ashes. Taking this as a portent of doom, we were filled with urgency and decided to split up into two groups to explore the forest faster. Krudge's group encountered a tree that grew black fruit. Upon eating but a single bite of it, his feelings of impending doom were justified as his body instantly collapsed into fine ash. We had discovered another danger, and a potential weapon, and were glad for it. The mountains beyond the grove of black fruit were described by those who saw it as "sick" in some fundamental way. Everything was diseased, leprous, and drained in some way, even the very stone itself. But there we met the first friendly face we had ever seen, another goblin, and a female to boot! Though, admittedly, one of the most slovenly and failsome mien. 

Rinny, Priestess of the Great Lady

She dwelled in a shrine of some god unknown to us. One of our number, Grick, had taken it upon himself to tend to the shrine, for it was overgrown with mildew. This amused the gobliness, Rinny, who renamed him Brick, deciding it sounded better. Brick conceded it did, and in return for obsequiously permitting a female he had known for less than ten minutes to change the very lynchpin of his being, he was bestowed with her pet rat, which granted him the repulsive and verminous powers of her goddess, the "Great Lady". Rinny also told us of an acquaintance of hers, a witch, who lived to the east, and recommended we see her.

To the north, we found a road, and were immediately cut down by the swift blades of red-skinned soldiers. On our next, more furtive, return, we found an overturned cart by the side of the road, beneath which we found an excellent boon - a pair of bangles in the form of simian paws that granted the wearer superior deftness of hand and foot in climbing. Emboldened by the discovery of this treasure, we followed the road to, we hoped, further riches. What we found was far stranger, yet had as great an impact - the beheaded statue of some ancient monarch, grand and distinguished in raiment, and despite the defacement still unmistakably goblin. We were a rootless people then, wandering among the ashes of a greater history, but for the first time, we understood the magnitude of what was lost. The bile rose in our gullets to know what has been taken from us.

The next few days were a riot of activity. We made weapons and armour - crude things of stick and stone, but at least we would be able to put up a fight - and set off in different directions, our knowledge of the surrounding world spreading like fungal cilia probing their environment. A multitude of deadly wonders surrounded us; flies the size of melons that moved so swiftly the eye could not follow, beetles as tall as trees, creatures that merged the features of beast and bird, or like cats that flowed like liquid, we found a dead red warrior like those who cut us down on the road and held steel for the first time. We tossed his corpse into the charnel pit, to add his strength to our own. One of our number found a shirt of iron links, rusted but still usable, and holding it miraculously survived a strike of lightning! We took this as a good omen and hurried back to the house of rituals to stash the shirt before we expired, but by morning, it seemed to have no further miraculous properties.

On the fourteenth day, we found one of the most disturbing discoveries, a village, near intact, habitable even, but devoid of any signs of life. Its only residents, we thought, were bones. Bones of children, exclusively. The village was filled with useful things, though, so we could not ignore it. When we were attacked by a pack of child ghouls, it almost came as a relief to have an answer as to the fate of this place. It was around this time that we made contact with the first full goblin tribe, unfortunately for us, it was the Skumbloods. Blurk was taken captive and beaten bloody without cause by their leader, Raz, who was ignorant of our strange condition and so escaped through transmigration.

Powerful magics fell into our lap. Another group discovered a strange idol in the form of a colossal ruby skull, hundreds of thousands of carats of cut gemstone, that screamed in a voice dripping with fury for us to destroy the shrines of the other gods in return for its power. Not wanting to offend Rinny, we refused. This skull god relented with surprising ease and bestowed its powers on our member Noten with only a vague promise to inflict general destruction. Meanwhile, another of our scouting groups found the home of Rinny's witch acquaintance, who brusquely beckoned one of our kind into her hut, bound him to an imp and bestowed the powers of a magician upon him, claiming to have been paid in advance by an unknown benefactor to do this. Afterwards, we were kicked out of her home and told that we would never find her again. We considered this a great win on all accounts.

The next day, amongst dense mist, we set out for the ghoul village to retrieve our lost treasures, but encountered a travelling coffle of goblin slaves being led by two immense ogres. Not foolish enough to challenge them, and knowing we could not be kept long in bondage anyhow, we submitted to join the coffle, which took us north. Oddly, the goblin slaves seemed to be even more feral than normal, capable only of short, clipped sentences. At some point, the ogres mysteriously decide to cut us free. We were suspicious but fled anyway, only to run into the territory of a black dragon. Only Kludge survived by hiding in the mud. Had the ogres delivered us up to the dragon, perhaps?

In the confusion, though, Kludge stumbled across a treasure - a helmet of make so strange it had to be magical. He hid it before his death, and the next day we returned to recover it and his last body. On our way back, we spied some giant mantises engaged in battle with something we never saw to the west - fortunate, it seems, for one of the mantises was turned to stone by the sight and fell out of the sky.

It was some time after this we found a village of goblins. Civilised and law-abiding, to an unusual degree. Here, Blurk encountered a goblin artificer who offered to teach him the art, requiring only a suitable gemstone and a piece of bark from the top of the tallest tree in the jungle to craft a training tool. What followed as a time of much misadventure, with no less than four rafts being destroyed by crocolisks in our attempts to navigate the river between our home and the village. But, with the aid of the climbing bracelets we were able to accomplish the artificer Garbett's requirements, and with the powers of an artificer Blurk immediately created a talisman to ensorcel his former teacher to his service for one simple reason - he had in his possession a set of irreplaceable thieves tools, which we used to bypass the lock separating us from you, oh Steward. 

THE BILE RISES

GLoGmas 2025: Treasures Glow In the Dark

 A GLOGmas gift for Grek of Grackle Court, and their post-apocalyptic GLOGhack, GLoW. Merry GLOGmas!

Purity Is The Power To Contemplate Defilement - Ritual Purity for OSR Clerics

This came from a casual discussion on the glogosphere, but struck me as such a good idea that I had to write it down. 

Many Cleric spells in several OSR rulesets have reversed forms, but it's often unclear how legal they are for PC's to employ. Sometimes they are interpreted as being limited to Evil Priest NPCs, other times that they might be permitted for use by PC's in extremis, or just that a nebulous warning that using them too much might result in alignment change. This is how I'm going to start handling the matter.

At any given time, a Cleric can be in one of two ritual states: Purity or Defilement.

While in a state of Ritual Purity, their spells heal, illuminate, restore, and preserve, returning the fallen world to its proper state. All spells produce their normal effect.

While in a state of Ritual Defilement, their spells harm, deceive, break, and corrupt, reflecting human sin back upon the world. All spells produce their reversed effect.

At any time, a cleric in a state of ritual purity may choose to break the state, converting any memorised spells to their reversed forms. However, returning to ritual purity is harder than breaking it, typically requiring a return to a temple and spending a day in ablution and annointment - this explicitly does not require an Atonement spell to be cast nor is it accompanied with any sort of Geas or Quest; ritual purity is not the same thing as moral purity, and defilement is not punished, just rectified.

This presents an interesting logistical decision, particularly on a deep dungeon crawl - the party may encounter enemies potent enough to make a Slay Living or Harm very welcome, but once that bridge is crossed, then that Cleric is no longer able to provide healing, traditionally one of their most valuable party roles. At the bottom of a multi-level dungeon, with potentially dozens of encounter rolls between you and safety, this is no small thing. Bringing multiple clerics might be the meta strat, which is probably not too difficult - clerics are a pretty solid class, with few great weaknesses. I rarely ever actually see the stereotype of tables where nobody wants to play the healer; clerics are great at every level, and party composition tends to reflect that.

Settings where clerics of opposing alignments can be part of the same religion, or at least acknowledge the same cosmology - like Skerples' contextless OD&D, Deus Ex Parabola's Unfinished World, or WotC's Eberron - might be best suited to this idea. Some sects may even voluntarily choose to exist in a state of defilement for reasons both practical and theological.

Besides voluntary defilement, certain creatures or situations might induce it - getting energy drained by an undead, dealing peaceably with a demon, or getting extremely dirty, especially from something ritually unclean like gore, excrement or corpse-ash, would probably break your ritual purity. Maybe I'd allow a save for those sort of involuntary situations, but maybe also not - it might be amusing to figure out how the party gets their healbot through the sewer level.

It might possibly be prudent to introduce a magical item or even a mundane equipment item that allows Ritual Purity to be restored in the field, but make it either rare, expensive or awkward.