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ysabetwordsmithThis poem came out of the December 3, 2019 Poetry Fishbowl. It was inspired by prompts from jtthomas and ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
a_r_williams, including a discussion of why there are no wizard armies. It also fills the "shortages and losses" square in my 1-1-18 card for the Apocalypse Bingo fest. This poem has been sponsored by Anthony & Shirley Barrette. It belongs to the series Adaptive Magic.
"A Good Imagination and a Pile of Junk"
It was Kludge who saved the world,
and everybody knew it, even if some
of them didn't want to admit it.
Kludge had grown up poor,
made worse by his clumsy
and scatterbrained nature.
When the lad manifested
magical talent, though, he
was sent to apprentice with
the nearest wizard, because
that was a rare and valuable gift.
Kludge proved just as inept with
magic as he had with farming.
Over time, however, he learned
ways to work around his limitations,
just as he had cobbled up a garden box
to avoid measuring his length in the mud.
While normal wizards memorized spells
that they could cast at will, Kludge wrote his
in a huge book that he studied diligently
to keep his memory refreshed.
He was much too clumsy
to go about with potions on
his person in glass flasks, so
he soaked things in magical liquid
and gave them strange powers.
Despite his master mocking him
for doing everything wrong, Kludge
also had a knack for making magic
from anything he could lay his hands on.
Where everyone else needed exotic things
to cast a spell, Kludge was running around
using a stick for a magic wand, leaves
and pebbles for spell components.
At a rare wizards' convocation,
the other apprentices picked on him
until they ran out of their limited supplies,
and then Kludge beat the lot of them
with a simple Pounding Pebbles spell.
When the Demonmonger came to power
and threatened the whole world, an army
was raised in hopes of defeating him.
Few wizards ever wanted to join
the military, but Kludge didn't exactly
have people lining up to hire him,
so he signed up for the promise of
a tent and three hot meals a day.
The soldiers laughed at him
until the day it rained and Kludge
poured something on the wood
that made it burst into flames
the moment the water touched it.
"What in the world is that?"
Drell demanded, staring at him.
"Well, it was supposed to be
fire extinguisher to put out spellfire,
but I usually get the mix wrong and then
it just does that," Kludge said. "Handy
for starting fires in the rain, though."
"Do you have any more?" Drell said.
"Jugs of the stuff, but it's only useful
in wet weather, so I can hardly
give it away," Kludge said.
Drell handed him a block of
chocolate worth a week's pay
and said, "I'll take all you've got."
The soldiers divided the stuff into
flasks, put them in catapults, and
lobbed them at the enemy camp.
The blaze shone even through the rain.
After that, the soldiers took a liking
to Kludge and helped him with
things he couldn't do easily.
Someone was always there
to double-check his packing
and make sure that he hadn't left
anything behind or hanging loose.
If he tripped while they marched,
those on either side caught him.
They were still badly outnumbered
by enemy conscripts bolstered
by the summoned demons.
They could only travel
by making distractions,
and that tended to be fatal
for the soldiers assigned
to perform that duty.
"Take this," Kludge said
as Fard headed out, handing
him a sturdy metal sphere.
"What is this?" Fard asked.
"The alchemical components
for a Firebloom spell go in the flask.
Don't worry, it can't break, and it won't
go off until you pull out this pin then
yank here." He pointed to a large ring
attached to a leather thong. "That runs
a set of gears for the somatic component.
You know I can't do gestures well, so."
"Thank you," Fard said, then
trotted away with the flask.
Minutes later, a whole platoon
of enemy soldiers exploded in flames.
"How did you do that?" Drell demanded.
"I didn't see you cast, and they're out of range!"
So Kludge explained again about the flask
and his difficulty with somatic components
and how he'd passed a flask to Fard.
Even then, nobody actually believed him
until Fard came back and confirmed it.
"With one of your magic flasks, anyone
can cast Firebloom, even footsoldiers
who aren't wizards?" Drell said.
"That's the idea," Kludge said.
"I can't do magic very well, but I
can usually make something work."
"Everyone, go scare up as many
flasks as you can find," Drell ordered.
"Kludge, what else do you need
to make these things?"
While everyone else ran off
to find empty flasks that had
been used to carry lamp oil or
other risky liquids, Kludge gave
Drell a list of other materials.
After a bit of experimentation,
they discovered that even though
only Kludge could charm the things
to explode, anyone could load the flasks
and make the gears as he directed.
As long as Kludge had his spellbook
right in front of him, and nobody bothered
him while he cast the spells, he could
keep doing that over and over again
without becoming exhausted.
Armed with an enchanted arsenal,
their unit managed to destroy
a substantial portion of the enemy.
Kludge and his allies cheered
as they watched the fires burn.
They couldn't always keep out
of the direct line of fire, but now
the other soldiers clustered tightly
around Kludge in combat to keep him
safe and able to cast his spells.
One day Kludge flung out his hands
and a swarm of fist-sized fireballs
burned holes through their enemies.
"What the hell was that?" Drell said.
"There's a spell to split Firebloom so you
can aim at several targets, but the more
you make, the harder they get to aim,"
Kludge said. "I never could cast it right,
but I got curious how many I could make.
Around a dozen, they start whizzing around
like that so it's impossible to dodge them,
and I don't actually need to aim much."
Drell laughed and clapped him
on the shoulder. "You sure found
the chink in their armor, Kludge!"
The weakness of demons was
that they were terribly rigid.
Once a contract was made,
it couldn't be changed, and
they couldn't break it -- although
they were notorious for bending it
with their wicked interpretations.
They really stood no chance against
someone who naturally thought sideways.
To Kludge, a magical law was just
another obstacle to be gotten around
by whatever means necessary.
He proved that again when
the army sent him an apprentice.
Saer was brusque and prickly,
unwilling to let anyone touch her,
and carried a dagger to back it up.
"Cut that out," Kludge scolded.
"What if you kill someone? You'd
just do the enemy's work for them.
Here, use this spell instead."
He taught her Blighted Touch,
so that any man groping her
would be sickened for hours
and impotent for weeks.
Word got around quickly,
and men quit bothering Saer.
Since Kludge couldn't do
normal magic very well,
he taught her his own kind,
and that worked even better.
He showed her how to cast
Pounding Pebbles, and they
beat the enemy scouts to death.
When Saer botched casting
Dancing Doom and turned
all the grass to flames instead,
Kludge just laughed and invited
her to name the new spell.
She called it Carpet Bomb.
Kludge also taught her how
to make Firebloom flasks.
"I'm amazed that you can make
so much from so little," she said.
Kludge just shrugged. "To invent,
you need a good imagination
and a pile of junk," he said.
"You're good at making things,"
Fard said, grinning at the wizards.
"How are we going to keep her
safe in combat, though?" Drell said.
"I know she's flubbing wards and shields."
This was true. Saer couldn't even hold
a static ward, let alone a mobile shield.
"I have some ideas," Kludge said,
but wouldn't tell them anything more.
The next time the wizards got swept up
in combat, though, the secret came out.
Kludge and Saer faced each other and
a shimmering wall of energy spread
around them, much bigger than
the tiny bubble of a normal ward.
From behind it, the archers could
fire without exposing themselves
to the demonic blasts hurled
by the enemy's front row.
That gave Kludge's people
the edge they needed to win.
The army sent more apprentices
to study under Kludge, and now they
could make enough magical flasks
that everyone could cast Firebloom.
It was like having a whole army of wizards.
They could cast a bigger phalanx shield,
too, which meant more of their soldiers could
launch attacks from behind its cover without
exposing themselves to demonic magic.
Outraged by the losses, the Demonmonger
redoubled his efforts and summoned a cavalry
of hellhorses to mount his shock troops.
"We're doomed," Fard said, and
Drell had to agree with him.
"Don't worry about it,"
Kludge said. "We're
working on something."
"I sure hope so," Drell said.
"We're going to lay a trap,"
Kludge said. "We need
some soldiers behind us
to give the enemy something
worth mounting a charge for,
and two more groups in hiding
to flank them when it springs."
Drell made it happen, and
the next day they set it up.
A handful of wizards stood
together on the slope of a hill,
but there were no flames or
any other sign of magic.
"I hope you didn't botch,"
Fard said, eyeing the enemy.
"Everything is in place, you
just can't see it yet -- and neither
can they," Kludge assured him.
"All right, we trust you," Fard said,
and took up position behind them.
When the hellhorses charged,
the wizards stood their ground.
Their soldiers swore but did not flee.
Suddenly the hellhorses burst open in
a spray of ichor, slashed by unseen blades.
The demons astride them fell off, landing
on the Supernal Pikes themselves.
The pouring ichor revealed the shape
of a long, curved row of magical spears
sprouting out of the very ground.
All of the hellhorses died on the pikes,
their bodies dispelling into dust.
Most of the demons died, too,
leaving only human conscripts
who broke and ran in panic.
Fard cranked a horn,
which began to roar.
At the signal, Drell's forces
burst from the nearby bushes
to fall upon the Demonmonger's core
of defenders and cut them all down.
The soldiers cheered, and then
hoisted the wizards on their shoulders.
After the war was over, the military
assigned more and more young wizards
to study under Kludge, in hopes of having
a true wizard army in case of future need.
Saer went on to develop many spells
and potions to protect other women,
which helped to keep the peace.
And the name Kludge, which had once
meant something clunky and awful, came
to mean a person who could work miracles
with a good imagination and a pile of junk.
* * *
Notes:
"To invent, you need a good imagination and a pile of junk."
-- Thomas A. Edison
kludge (noun) Computer Slang.
a software or hardware configuration that, while inelegant, inefficient, clumsy, or patched together, succeeds in solving a specific problem or performing a particular task.
Linguistic reappropriation, reclamation or resignification[1] is the cultural process by which a group reclaims words or artifacts that were previously used in a way disparaging of that group. It is a specific form of a semantic change (change in a word's meaning). Linguistic reclamation can have wider implications in the fields of discourse and has been described in terms of personal or sociopolitical empowerment.
In this case, "kludge" started out as an insult, but through legengary deeds it took on a new meaning closer to "MacGyver," meaning one who can make something useful out of nothing but junk and solve problems that no one else can.
Neurodiversity is the premise that many conditions (such as the autism spectrum, bipolar personality, attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, Tourette syndrome, anomic aphasia, dyspraxia, circadian rhythm sleep disorders, and others) are not illnesses but rather part of the normal range of human mentality. They just look "wrong" because they are minorities. The scapegoating of mental illness, or diversity, causes many problems. Understand the principles and benefits of neurodiversity. Much of the potential lies in niche construction -- finding out what you do well and then building a life around that, while minimizing the things you don't do well or simply despise.
Dyspraxia includes a variety of motor and organizational challenges that make everyday life a constant puzzle. The coping strategies for children and adults sometimes leave people with exceptional problem-solving skills.
Pounding Pebbles -- a spell that animates a bunch of small rocks to beat one or more targets. Usually it leaves painful bruises, but if a rock strikes a vulnerable area then it can do a lot more damage.
Firebloom -- a spell that creates a large sphere of flames capable of burning most ordinary or extraordinary items. The alchemical components can be poured into a sturdy flask, which is then triggered by pulling a reel that activates minute gears which enact the triggering gestures.
Dancing Doom -- a spell that sends forth a swarm of fist-sized fireballs that move in unpredictable patterns, burning holes in everything they touch.
Blighted Touch -- a short-range version of what used to be a long-range killing curse. The original spell, Flying Blight, can kill from many yards away. Blighted Touch is debilitating rather than deadly but affects everyone who touches the affected individual. It makes a person sick for hours and impotent for weeks due to draining their life energy.
Phalanx Ward -- a cooperative magic technique whereby two or more wizards join their energy to create an enchanted barrier that is larger and stronger than any of them could make alone. It gains more size and power with every wizard added to the cast. A single wizard's ward is only large enough for one or two people to stand inside.
Supernal Pikes -- a cooperative magic technique that allows a team of wizards to make invisible spikes sprout from the ground. It functions like a phalanx of foot soldiers braced to receive a cavalry charge, except the horses and riders cannot see it so they make no attempt to avoid the deadly points. A single wizard can only create one or two spikes, useful for personal protection but not for stopping a cavalry charge.
Bounding Boulders -- a stronger version of Pounding Pebbles, this cooperative spell animates big rocks to smash many targets at once.
jtthomas and a_r_williams, including a discussion of why there are no wizard armies. It also fills the "shortages and losses" square in my 1-1-18 card for the Apocalypse Bingo fest. This poem has been sponsored by Anthony & Shirley Barrette. It belongs to the series Adaptive Magic."A Good Imagination and a Pile of Junk"
It was Kludge who saved the world,
and everybody knew it, even if some
of them didn't want to admit it.
Kludge had grown up poor,
made worse by his clumsy
and scatterbrained nature.
When the lad manifested
magical talent, though, he
was sent to apprentice with
the nearest wizard, because
that was a rare and valuable gift.
Kludge proved just as inept with
magic as he had with farming.
Over time, however, he learned
ways to work around his limitations,
just as he had cobbled up a garden box
to avoid measuring his length in the mud.
While normal wizards memorized spells
that they could cast at will, Kludge wrote his
in a huge book that he studied diligently
to keep his memory refreshed.
He was much too clumsy
to go about with potions on
his person in glass flasks, so
he soaked things in magical liquid
and gave them strange powers.
Despite his master mocking him
for doing everything wrong, Kludge
also had a knack for making magic
from anything he could lay his hands on.
Where everyone else needed exotic things
to cast a spell, Kludge was running around
using a stick for a magic wand, leaves
and pebbles for spell components.
At a rare wizards' convocation,
the other apprentices picked on him
until they ran out of their limited supplies,
and then Kludge beat the lot of them
with a simple Pounding Pebbles spell.
When the Demonmonger came to power
and threatened the whole world, an army
was raised in hopes of defeating him.
Few wizards ever wanted to join
the military, but Kludge didn't exactly
have people lining up to hire him,
so he signed up for the promise of
a tent and three hot meals a day.
The soldiers laughed at him
until the day it rained and Kludge
poured something on the wood
that made it burst into flames
the moment the water touched it.
"What in the world is that?"
Drell demanded, staring at him.
"Well, it was supposed to be
fire extinguisher to put out spellfire,
but I usually get the mix wrong and then
it just does that," Kludge said. "Handy
for starting fires in the rain, though."
"Do you have any more?" Drell said.
"Jugs of the stuff, but it's only useful
in wet weather, so I can hardly
give it away," Kludge said.
Drell handed him a block of
chocolate worth a week's pay
and said, "I'll take all you've got."
The soldiers divided the stuff into
flasks, put them in catapults, and
lobbed them at the enemy camp.
The blaze shone even through the rain.
After that, the soldiers took a liking
to Kludge and helped him with
things he couldn't do easily.
Someone was always there
to double-check his packing
and make sure that he hadn't left
anything behind or hanging loose.
If he tripped while they marched,
those on either side caught him.
They were still badly outnumbered
by enemy conscripts bolstered
by the summoned demons.
They could only travel
by making distractions,
and that tended to be fatal
for the soldiers assigned
to perform that duty.
"Take this," Kludge said
as Fard headed out, handing
him a sturdy metal sphere.
"What is this?" Fard asked.
"The alchemical components
for a Firebloom spell go in the flask.
Don't worry, it can't break, and it won't
go off until you pull out this pin then
yank here." He pointed to a large ring
attached to a leather thong. "That runs
a set of gears for the somatic component.
You know I can't do gestures well, so."
"Thank you," Fard said, then
trotted away with the flask.
Minutes later, a whole platoon
of enemy soldiers exploded in flames.
"How did you do that?" Drell demanded.
"I didn't see you cast, and they're out of range!"
So Kludge explained again about the flask
and his difficulty with somatic components
and how he'd passed a flask to Fard.
Even then, nobody actually believed him
until Fard came back and confirmed it.
"With one of your magic flasks, anyone
can cast Firebloom, even footsoldiers
who aren't wizards?" Drell said.
"That's the idea," Kludge said.
"I can't do magic very well, but I
can usually make something work."
"Everyone, go scare up as many
flasks as you can find," Drell ordered.
"Kludge, what else do you need
to make these things?"
While everyone else ran off
to find empty flasks that had
been used to carry lamp oil or
other risky liquids, Kludge gave
Drell a list of other materials.
After a bit of experimentation,
they discovered that even though
only Kludge could charm the things
to explode, anyone could load the flasks
and make the gears as he directed.
As long as Kludge had his spellbook
right in front of him, and nobody bothered
him while he cast the spells, he could
keep doing that over and over again
without becoming exhausted.
Armed with an enchanted arsenal,
their unit managed to destroy
a substantial portion of the enemy.
Kludge and his allies cheered
as they watched the fires burn.
They couldn't always keep out
of the direct line of fire, but now
the other soldiers clustered tightly
around Kludge in combat to keep him
safe and able to cast his spells.
One day Kludge flung out his hands
and a swarm of fist-sized fireballs
burned holes through their enemies.
"What the hell was that?" Drell said.
"There's a spell to split Firebloom so you
can aim at several targets, but the more
you make, the harder they get to aim,"
Kludge said. "I never could cast it right,
but I got curious how many I could make.
Around a dozen, they start whizzing around
like that so it's impossible to dodge them,
and I don't actually need to aim much."
Drell laughed and clapped him
on the shoulder. "You sure found
the chink in their armor, Kludge!"
The weakness of demons was
that they were terribly rigid.
Once a contract was made,
it couldn't be changed, and
they couldn't break it -- although
they were notorious for bending it
with their wicked interpretations.
They really stood no chance against
someone who naturally thought sideways.
To Kludge, a magical law was just
another obstacle to be gotten around
by whatever means necessary.
He proved that again when
the army sent him an apprentice.
Saer was brusque and prickly,
unwilling to let anyone touch her,
and carried a dagger to back it up.
"Cut that out," Kludge scolded.
"What if you kill someone? You'd
just do the enemy's work for them.
Here, use this spell instead."
He taught her Blighted Touch,
so that any man groping her
would be sickened for hours
and impotent for weeks.
Word got around quickly,
and men quit bothering Saer.
Since Kludge couldn't do
normal magic very well,
he taught her his own kind,
and that worked even better.
He showed her how to cast
Pounding Pebbles, and they
beat the enemy scouts to death.
When Saer botched casting
Dancing Doom and turned
all the grass to flames instead,
Kludge just laughed and invited
her to name the new spell.
She called it Carpet Bomb.
Kludge also taught her how
to make Firebloom flasks.
"I'm amazed that you can make
so much from so little," she said.
Kludge just shrugged. "To invent,
you need a good imagination
and a pile of junk," he said.
"You're good at making things,"
Fard said, grinning at the wizards.
"How are we going to keep her
safe in combat, though?" Drell said.
"I know she's flubbing wards and shields."
This was true. Saer couldn't even hold
a static ward, let alone a mobile shield.
"I have some ideas," Kludge said,
but wouldn't tell them anything more.
The next time the wizards got swept up
in combat, though, the secret came out.
Kludge and Saer faced each other and
a shimmering wall of energy spread
around them, much bigger than
the tiny bubble of a normal ward.
From behind it, the archers could
fire without exposing themselves
to the demonic blasts hurled
by the enemy's front row.
That gave Kludge's people
the edge they needed to win.
The army sent more apprentices
to study under Kludge, and now they
could make enough magical flasks
that everyone could cast Firebloom.
It was like having a whole army of wizards.
They could cast a bigger phalanx shield,
too, which meant more of their soldiers could
launch attacks from behind its cover without
exposing themselves to demonic magic.
Outraged by the losses, the Demonmonger
redoubled his efforts and summoned a cavalry
of hellhorses to mount his shock troops.
"We're doomed," Fard said, and
Drell had to agree with him.
"Don't worry about it,"
Kludge said. "We're
working on something."
"I sure hope so," Drell said.
"We're going to lay a trap,"
Kludge said. "We need
some soldiers behind us
to give the enemy something
worth mounting a charge for,
and two more groups in hiding
to flank them when it springs."
Drell made it happen, and
the next day they set it up.
A handful of wizards stood
together on the slope of a hill,
but there were no flames or
any other sign of magic.
"I hope you didn't botch,"
Fard said, eyeing the enemy.
"Everything is in place, you
just can't see it yet -- and neither
can they," Kludge assured him.
"All right, we trust you," Fard said,
and took up position behind them.
When the hellhorses charged,
the wizards stood their ground.
Their soldiers swore but did not flee.
Suddenly the hellhorses burst open in
a spray of ichor, slashed by unseen blades.
The demons astride them fell off, landing
on the Supernal Pikes themselves.
The pouring ichor revealed the shape
of a long, curved row of magical spears
sprouting out of the very ground.
All of the hellhorses died on the pikes,
their bodies dispelling into dust.
Most of the demons died, too,
leaving only human conscripts
who broke and ran in panic.
Fard cranked a horn,
which began to roar.
At the signal, Drell's forces
burst from the nearby bushes
to fall upon the Demonmonger's core
of defenders and cut them all down.
The soldiers cheered, and then
hoisted the wizards on their shoulders.
After the war was over, the military
assigned more and more young wizards
to study under Kludge, in hopes of having
a true wizard army in case of future need.
Saer went on to develop many spells
and potions to protect other women,
which helped to keep the peace.
And the name Kludge, which had once
meant something clunky and awful, came
to mean a person who could work miracles
with a good imagination and a pile of junk.
* * *
Notes:
"To invent, you need a good imagination and a pile of junk."
-- Thomas A. Edison
kludge (noun) Computer Slang.
a software or hardware configuration that, while inelegant, inefficient, clumsy, or patched together, succeeds in solving a specific problem or performing a particular task.
Linguistic reappropriation, reclamation or resignification[1] is the cultural process by which a group reclaims words or artifacts that were previously used in a way disparaging of that group. It is a specific form of a semantic change (change in a word's meaning). Linguistic reclamation can have wider implications in the fields of discourse and has been described in terms of personal or sociopolitical empowerment.
In this case, "kludge" started out as an insult, but through legengary deeds it took on a new meaning closer to "MacGyver," meaning one who can make something useful out of nothing but junk and solve problems that no one else can.
Neurodiversity is the premise that many conditions (such as the autism spectrum, bipolar personality, attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, Tourette syndrome, anomic aphasia, dyspraxia, circadian rhythm sleep disorders, and others) are not illnesses but rather part of the normal range of human mentality. They just look "wrong" because they are minorities. The scapegoating of mental illness, or diversity, causes many problems. Understand the principles and benefits of neurodiversity. Much of the potential lies in niche construction -- finding out what you do well and then building a life around that, while minimizing the things you don't do well or simply despise.
Dyspraxia includes a variety of motor and organizational challenges that make everyday life a constant puzzle. The coping strategies for children and adults sometimes leave people with exceptional problem-solving skills.
Pounding Pebbles -- a spell that animates a bunch of small rocks to beat one or more targets. Usually it leaves painful bruises, but if a rock strikes a vulnerable area then it can do a lot more damage.
Firebloom -- a spell that creates a large sphere of flames capable of burning most ordinary or extraordinary items. The alchemical components can be poured into a sturdy flask, which is then triggered by pulling a reel that activates minute gears which enact the triggering gestures.
Dancing Doom -- a spell that sends forth a swarm of fist-sized fireballs that move in unpredictable patterns, burning holes in everything they touch.
Blighted Touch -- a short-range version of what used to be a long-range killing curse. The original spell, Flying Blight, can kill from many yards away. Blighted Touch is debilitating rather than deadly but affects everyone who touches the affected individual. It makes a person sick for hours and impotent for weeks due to draining their life energy.
Phalanx Ward -- a cooperative magic technique whereby two or more wizards join their energy to create an enchanted barrier that is larger and stronger than any of them could make alone. It gains more size and power with every wizard added to the cast. A single wizard's ward is only large enough for one or two people to stand inside.
Supernal Pikes -- a cooperative magic technique that allows a team of wizards to make invisible spikes sprout from the ground. It functions like a phalanx of foot soldiers braced to receive a cavalry charge, except the horses and riders cannot see it so they make no attempt to avoid the deadly points. A single wizard can only create one or two spikes, useful for personal protection but not for stopping a cavalry charge.
Bounding Boulders -- a stronger version of Pounding Pebbles, this cooperative spell animates big rocks to smash many targets at once.
(no subject)
Date: 2019-12-11 03:02 am (UTC)Thank you!
Date: 2019-12-11 03:04 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2019-12-11 03:10 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2019-12-11 05:42 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2019-12-11 09:05 am (UTC)(Only steal from the best)
Thank you!
Date: 2019-12-11 09:10 am (UTC)If the opportunity ever arises again, you're welcome to use them as inspiration.
We had a lot of fun in some of my campaigns using magic differently. I enjoyed offering variations of spells -- there was a fireball with a range of about a foot, only a few inches wide, but it was ideal for melting the locks (and any traps) off a door. I gave the players a few industrial spells once, and they used Ferdinand's Frictionless Freightway on a mountain switchback while pursued by orcs, who all went sailing off the side of the mountain. \o/
Re: Thank you!
Date: 2019-12-12 12:25 am (UTC)Then you add Option, which is a spell for adding logic and triggers to magic. There are equivalents in D&D, such as Contingency.
Add a small summoning spell (Summon Material is popular), an Animate Object, a basic divination spell, and a binding for magic... and suddenly I have a zillion-and-one uses for a tiny handful of modular spells. Plus a lot of small, clever objects lying around.
Total actual base spells, seven (that I use regularly). Studying meta-magic and primal qualities has paid off handsomely for me. Adding engineering and poverty/survival skills doubles or triples the usefulness from there!
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Date: 2019-12-11 05:32 pm (UTC)Yay!
Date: 2019-12-11 09:11 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2019-12-15 02:33 am (UTC)Thank you!
Date: 2019-12-15 02:40 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2019-12-17 01:16 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2020-07-21 02:02 am (UTC)Yay!
Date: 2020-07-21 03:21 am (UTC)