Randy Ellefson's Blog, page 7

Magic Systems: Where to Start

Early decisions to make in creating a magic system include what types of magic we want to include in the setting, how prevalent each is, what the source is, and whether mortals need spells to do it. These choices will guide everything that follows. Then we can consider the cost of magic to a practitioner and other limits. We should also decide if we’re inventing more than one type of magic for the setting and the limits of each, adding a name. With this in mind, we can then decide on training. We can invent specific spells, being careful not to craft many, if any, that solve a plot problem in a story we’re planning. Finally, we can invent local laws.

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Inventing Spells: Words

The mystery of magic is often the viewers’ inability to understand what a wizard is doing, or how, and finding out that the words mean something unimpressive ruins this. So we may not want to decide them for every (or any) spell. But we should still decide what they’re for.

The words might be the “ties that bind” bringing everything together. Without the words, do we just have gestures and materials? Words can be what makes magic work, from the gathering of energies, to the merging of this with any gestures and ingredients, to the channeling of those elements. Seen this way, words serve as the control, with gestures assisting in any stage of this. They’re a kind of “on” and “off” function for spell casting, words at least beginning if not ending the casting. Some spells could still be manipulated with gestures once the speaker goes silent, though there’s likely a time limit on that. Does a wizard have five seconds or thirty to manipulate the energies he’s collected?

If we invent a magic language, this implies that those words grant access to magic so that the same words spoken in another tongue have no effect. Whether we show this magic language or not, working out what must be said can distinguish one spell from another. A generic pie spell might only have a single word different (rhubarb vs. blueberry) in a placeholder sort of way, or the entire spoken lines could be different. If we have an invented language, it will be less effort (and cheaper if someone must do it for us) to just replace a word than the entire contents.

Let’s say these are the words:

“Oh god of plenty, hear my prayer,

Make this joy of many layers,

A scrumptious treat of apple pie,

Without which I shall surely die.”

This generic spell is specific only once, the word “apple,” and can be swapped with blueberry, cherry, pumpkin, or whatever. This is not only easier for us, but for the wizards in our world. If we have two types of magic, we can decide that one type uses this simple word substitution, allowing for wizards to quickly learn a range of only fractionally different spells. Contrast that with another magic type where the spells are so different that it is more difficult to learn. What if this is what was required just to switch to a blueberry pie?

“In the land of Kingshire grows,

A fruit that cures all hunger woes,

Blue and berry it rightly be,

Till baked as pie and had with tea.” 

The length of the lines should be kept short for simple spells and lengthened for more complex. We want to avoid similar phrasing, unlike those examples. We can use names of places and individuals as appropriate, making some almost like prayers. We can decide the lines are a bit like recipe instructions, where we tell the magic what to do with the ingredients, how, in what order, and what the result should be. This can take the place of gestures, and if we’d like spells that don’t feature a motion, then perhaps the spell’s words are what impact this. For example, a spoken “strike down those behind me” would take the place of needing to turn around and wave an arm.

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Inventing Spells: Materials

Whether creating spells, potions, or magic items, viewing ingredients as like those for a recipe is a useful analogy. Everything has its purpose, or it isn’t there. The combination of water and flour make dough, which is needed for anything requiring bread or a crust. Yeast is to make dough rise. Spices are optional flavoring. Fruits, meats, and vegetables are for flavor and nutrition. For cooking, the heat can melt items together, bake some ingredients, or convert separate items into a whole. The type of pot matters. Some things can be fudged (“add spices to taste”) while others will botch the result if not exact.

We can use all these cooking techniques to determine spell ingredients. Just as yeast is used to make dough rise, we can decide a common plant is used to bind elements together. A spell that has words, gestures, and only one ingredient doesn’t need this plant, but one with two or more ingredients does. Similarly, maybe there’s a spell type that results in a glass object and we therefore need a bit of sand, warm water (for its heat), or actual glass to achieve this. Whether someone is creating a crystal ball or an orb for light, these same ingredients would be needed even though the spells differ in other respects. Quantity would depend on the object’s size.

The point of a spell is to achieve a specific result, just like cooking recipes. If we’re following the recipe for apple pie, but don’t get the preparation or quantities and/or ingredients right, we don’t end up with a blueberry pie. Or an apple. Or a plant. We also don’t melt the countertop, destroy the baking dish, or grant life to the apple slices. That said, it is possible to substitute ingredients, which is a good way to allow a wizard not fully prepared to cast a spell produce something similar with the ingredients available in the moment. Decide how flexible the spells are. If they need two oz of white sand but only have two ounces of black sand, what happens? If they have the white sand but only 1.5 oz, does the spell still work but results are smaller than it would have been? Less range? Less powerful? To answer these questions, know what each element of a spell is causing. We can start with our cooking analogy, the purpose of various items, and then imagine substitutes.

Element and PurposeSubstituteWarm water and flour (wheat, bread, whole, etc.) to create doughA liquid and a grounded plant. The liquid could be ordinary or unusual/magicalDough to form a container, base, or new whole, and which can be shaped many ways (pie, pretzel, muffin)“Dough” to act as containers, projectilesYeast (makes dough rise)Grounded plant to alter/accentuate ingredientsWater to cook (noodles, rice), sanitize, break down or congeal ingredientsAny liquid to boil, purify, breakdown or congeal ingredientsSpices for variations in tasteSmall materials for variation in power/other detailsMeats, fruits, and vegetables for nutritionMeats (for strength), plants, and other elements for shaping resultsPots, pans, containers of metal, glassSame, possibly of unique materialsTongs, spatula, etc., to handle hot itemsSame

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Inventing Spells: Gestures

As we all know, spells are a combination of words, gestures, and ingredients. One way to invent spells is to decide that each of these serves a different role in each magic system. If we can’t make up our mind, we can have one type of magic use gestures, for example, in one way, and another type use them for another. It’s the divide and conquer approach to not only inventing spells but magic systems. One choice to make is whether gestures, words, or ingredients are the difference between two spells; we might have a single spell to make a pie, with ingredients determining whether it’s apple or blueberry. Or maybe ingredients don’t include the fruit at all and there are indeed two spells, one for each type of pie.

Gestures

While gestures could mean anything, it seems sensible that they’re used for assisting with the width of spell for the area affected and the distance from the caster. If I only want people before me to fall asleep via my spell, I would control my gesture to indicate them but omit people to their left and right. If I want to affect people who stand within 20 feet of me, perhaps my arm is a given distance from my body but not too far, so that those more than 20 feet away are unaffected. If I want them to fall asleep instantly, perhaps my gesture is quick, whereas a slower motion might cause a less sudden effect and a gentler fall into sleep (and to the floor).

A spell that targets individuals more precisely can be imagined in a similar way. If three magic missiles will depart my fingers, perhaps I point them at the chosen targets. This could be done in succession with three pointing motions or all at once with one or two hands; we can imagine some inaccuracy with this, plus people being tipped off as to what’s coming. Some variants on spells might require contact with the target, such as wanting to make a single person be the victim. Generally, the more people or wider impact area, the more difficult and tasking we can imagine the spell to be for the caster.

Gestures might also indicate the power level due to force with which they’re made. Imagine that we’re casting a wind spell and merely flick our finger, versus a strong sweeping motion with one or both arms. The first might blow out a candle’s flame leaving the candlestick standing while the other might knock over everything in its path. This is not a rule, but it’s another way to decide what is required of the wizard. Viewed this way, a gesture might indicate passion and determination, which might please the source of that power if a god is the origin and they approve of the result; this could, in turn, convince that source to grant greater power to the wizard.

We can also decide that the wizard has harnessed energy and that, to disperse it away from themselves, these gestures are necessary, or the spell goes off in their face. With that in mind, if others know this, they might try to inhibit such a gesture, so the wizard hurts themselves. A bound wizard might be unable or unwilling to cast various spells. Imposing this limit lets us understand when they can and can’t do something.

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The Pros and Cons of Magic

Even magic systems have pros and cons, which is one way to further define our system(s). Some pros have little to do with the type but rather the society. For example, if training or materials is widely available or cheap, that’s a plus and may result in easier refinement of the talent. On the other hand, this could also result in numerous practitioners so that it’s harder to gain employment as one or distinguish oneself, for example. There may be pros and cons that are specific to the type, rather than general benefits of wizardry. For example, many practitioners can help their community, or make a difference in life, finding meaning and purpose in their powers, but this is true across magic types. We’re looking to define what’s beneficial about a type.

Create Benefits

Why does anyone want to perform this type of magic? If they don’t get to choose between types, this matters less, as they only have one option: develop their talent/ability or not. Reasons to forge ahead can include the obvious ones, like power, prestige, wealth, personal safety, and gaining advantage for ourselves or others, but even if none of these appeal to someone, there’s a default reason: they have an innate ability and may sometimes cause things to happen by accident, so they need to learn control.

Regardless, we should craft some benefits of each magic type. A built-in benefit might be that a necromancer can communicate with the dead and possibility comfort the living by fostering interaction. If the dead have advance knowledge of the future, this can also be advantageous. Alchemy is thought to cause noble changes within a person, whether the practitioner or the target, and doing so may align with a person’s outlook to make the world a better place; it’s the similar set of reasons for why people become priests. For an elemental wizard, bringing rain to a barren land is an example. Psionics can help us understand each other or avoid problems. To craft these, consider what uses practitioners have for this magic. What are their goals? What can be done with it?

Our intended story, if we have one, can also assist. What problems will the characters face and how might this magic type assist them? If a trap lies in their future, perhaps they can see it in advance. If they can’t find an item physically, maybe this wizardry can locate it. Reading minds helps overcome an enemy, or creates allies. How can they resolve conflict? Be careful not to perfectly solve the plot or character issues with magic!

While pros don’t help us craft limits to define a magic type, they can help us envision cons that do by way of contrast. And these benefits are only possibilities, not guarantees. The cons can prevent realization of these benefits.

Create Problems

What problems does this magic type pose? All types can be dangerous, so we’re once again trying to decide on specifics for a type. Reasons to not develop the talent can be economic, lack of education, lack of materials, social problems caused by being a practitioner, personality traits (lack of desire, follow through, and more), or other problems inherent to the type.

Necromancy can revive the dead, who may have ideas of their own about obeying commands or what to do now that they’re animated. They may now have supernatural traits that can harm the necromancer or expose the practitioner to knowledge that haunts them. Some types like witchcraft may require a bargain with an evil entity like a demon, who eventually comes to collect. Either of these could result in prolonged contact with other conscious forces (demons, ghosts) that increase the risk of being compromised by them. We could become enthralled by them, enslaved. We might die and our spirit enter their world. To avoid such fates, a spell may have a time-limit on it.

Practitioners aren’t the only ones for whom problems can be caused. Do I want a clairvoyant in my head? Is society okay with necromancy? A government or high-minded individuals can place limits, not simply by creating laws, but by incorporating limits in the spell. Imagine that our wizard Kier, who invented Kierzardy, tried to protect himself, devotees, or people in general by adding the limits. Or maybe he didn’t and decades later, a government hires a disciple to alter the spells and does so, with older versions being confiscated. This thinking allows us to imagine catastrophes and then what people did to imbue spells with limits.

Our intended story can help us determine problems. What sort of issue might the character face because they have this talent or ability? Breaking laws is not what we’re after, but magic going wrong and causing problems. Practitioners may have imposed limits on the magic system in order to avoid all of these problems might have resulted in limits being imposed on the magic system by practitioners, or the spells’ creators, or those who control the source of the energy (such as gods).

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Limits on Magic

A system is all about limits. Whether we’re doing hard or soft magic, we must still decide on limits unless we genuinely want an all-powerful being. There are arguably two kinds of limits: those imposed by the universe/gods and those caused by mortals. For the latter, this means that someone has devised a system of magic on our world.

For example, the arch wizard Kier discovered and developed a series of spells now known as Kierzadry. Another wizard called Taria invented Tariandry. Both had their talents, knowledge, inventiveness, research ability, and access to materials with which to experiment. They also ran into problems, solving some and not others, and deciding they’d found a limit (whether true or not) to one thing or another. And they built on their work over possibly decades, crafting spells that considered their learning. The result is two different schools of magic (or types), each with their own rules.

Let’s say Kier lived with varied landscapes nearby, with unique wildlife and plants, like the Amazon on Earth. It’s likely his spells use exotic materials, and maybe gestures or magic words are lesser parts of his spells. But Taria lived in a desert city when none of that was available, so her spells rely much more on words and gestures. Maybe she even contacted spirits, demons, or the like, and these supernatural forces are part of what she developed. Do we need to explain any of this to the audience? No, but imagining the origin of a magic type helps us develop it and use the natural limits of the physical world to define it.

Maybe those who practice Kierzardy are very good at the manipulation of materials but struggle to perform Tariandry due to the complex gestures and words, and lack skill in contacting spirits, who might be unfamiliar with them and therefore reluctant to answer. A Kierzardist might subsequently imagine this is another limit and wrongly tell others Tariandry can’t be done by them. A Tariandist might decide that it’s difficult to get the materials needed to perform Kierzardry, even at stores, and that even once acquired, processing them in the correct way is too much like cooking with rare materials that they don’t understand.  It’s also possible that these are rival schools of magic and practitioners generally refuse to teach each other. The last thing they want is someone who’s adept at both.

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What Do Wizard’s Wear?

The default attire many audiences have in mind is the robe, with the color or something else denoting the type of magic or skill level the practitioner has attained. There’s no real reason for the robe other than cliché, but they do offer the chance to have an unknown quantity of pockets within, each holding ingredients for spells. However, other clothing can achieve the same; cargo pants come to mind, though the pockets are visible. Do we really need a wizard to hide how much stuff they’re carrying? Quick access to pockets during fights is wise, but a belt or bandoleer (used for bullets) can do the same.

Take a moment to question how practitioners are dressed and why. A robe could be considered formal and mostly worn while at official functions. Perhaps a shorter version is for travel, worn with trousers to cover the lower legs when it’s cold. A robe might be tradition or enforced on wizards in societies that insist on immediate identification (in this case, via clothing) of practitioners. Some wizards might wish to hide their abilities for any number of reasons.

Another old cliché is that wizards can’t wear armor. This may have been conceived to make such powerful characters more vulnerable, but we have other ways to do this. Armor interfering with gestures doesn’t make sense as a justification, given that sword fighting, for example, requires far more mobility. But another explanation is that metal somehow interferes with the wizardry; we can make such a factor true of one magic but not another to create distinctions, but it also seems that an enterprising person would fashion armor that doesn’t cause this, with such armor being hard to acquire.

Consider that the audience only benefits from a visual cue in visual mediums, so print authors have greater leeway to completely abandon all stereotypical garb. In other mediums, we may want an immediately recognizable style in our story world. Then we just need to establish it, which takes no more than a line of dialogue when someone comments on the outfit. In Star Wars (italics), we know who’s a Jedi knight at once due to inference.

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A Wizard’s Life

Height of Power

When wizards are in their prime, we should determine their options in society. Deciding on magic prevalence once against helps us decide their prospects. For example, if magic is common and accepted, they might begin to instruct others, possibly at schools. They can live openly, make people feel safe, be honored (with statues or presiding at ceremonies), and enjoy good relations with leaders, military, and anyone else. When magic is rare and wizards are feared, they may teach in secret, maybe far from others, hide their location or nature, be shunned, and have an attitude about all of it. All of this would be on someone’s mind when entering into wizardry just as we envision our prospects in any career. Don’t overlook this. Using the techniques in chapter one to invent a culture for them, and be sure to vary it by sovereign power and, to a lesser extent, within regions and settlements.

Wizards are often thought to amass powerful items and wealth, whether it’s true or not. When magic is common, there may be special vaults and banks like what we see in Harry Potter, but without this, keeping their hoard close (such as at home) is more likely. This can lead them to become a target, one who has various kinds of protection (magical or otherwise) to conceal and protect their homes, whether there’s anything valuable there or not. We need to think about where they might choose to live, based on how magic and its practitioners are viewed. They’ll want to feel safe, whether that means living openly or in secret, and with physical or supernatural protection or not, and even though they might be very powerful and inspire fear, the terrified often attack in the name of preemptively defending themselves.

All of this affects a wizard’s family life, too. They’re so often shown to be loners that we can easily overlook this. Don’t they have friends, lovers, children? Are some of them magical? Or strong in other ways, like knights? Many will be just as respectable or disrespectable. It’s tempting to see a wizard as all-powerful, but even they get sick, injured, or tired. Fantasy is prone to sorting people as good or evil, but many supposedly “evil” people just have a different viewpoint, one shared by many others, around whom they’d feel safer in weak moments.

The Waning Years

Powerful wizards have powerful enemies, but sooner or later they are going to start aging and become increasingly vulnerable. Who is going to protect them? Maybe this is a scenario where the wizard’s apprentices protect their former master, or do they prey upon him? This is part of the magical culture. This could also be one reason that there are magic guilds, with one of the benefits of joining being this protection as we age and become weaker and vulnerable to our enemies. Might not a wayward wizard in youth curb his worse tendencies as he ages so that he’ll be accepted – and protected?

Just as we imagine our prospects for a healthy career, we might think of our retirement. How is a feared wizard going to live peacefully? Move away so people don’t realize? Who wants to end their life in hiding, away from anyone they care about? It seems reasonable to find another way. Might not a wizard cultivate good relations for just this very issue? Even an evil wizard, if smart, would find at least one kingdom where they’re see as good and retire there.

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Magic Training

Even wizards who can do magic with will power, not spells, can benefit from training. One element that distinguishes mankind (at least on Earth) is the ability to learn from predecessors. And wizards are likely the elite, having more specialized knowledge that can be passed down. While some of that can be done via books or scrolls, personal interaction tends to be superior to written material. To determine how much training is available and what form it likely takes, we should determine the prevalence of magic as previously discussed.

At its rarest, magic will only be taught by individual wizards in a master/apprentice scenario. At its most common, there are wizardry schools, possibly many of them held in differing esteem, and with and practices. Aside from prevalence, the other major factor determining this is public and government attitudes toward magic. Naturally, where it’s forbidden, the secret apprenticeship is more likely, but where it is openly accepted and plenty of wizards are around, a school may exist.

We can use this to develop character backstory. If they have little to no training, that will explain some mishaps and inconsistency. They may even be able to do some spells without all of the words, gestures, or ingredients, somehow compensating for it. Someone who goes to a prestigious wizardry school will be known for that. Those who had a secret internship, possibly with someone disreputable, may keep quiet about it and refuse to admit to their master’s whereabouts. Every wizard is likely to have an accident of some kind in their past, and training certainly influences the number and severity of these, plus the emotional and even physical scars that result. A wizard without fear is a fool.

To create a school of magic and its curriculum or books, we can leverage subjects from our own schooling. What typically exists? Potions, summoning, communication, creating and using items, material usage (plants, animals, etc.), history, school of magic, types of magic, general spell casting 101, and more. Unless we’re planning to have a character in a Harry Potter-like setting, we don’t need too many details, but it’s worth inventing this once and having it in mind for most of our fantasy worlds because much of it would exist on all of them, even if the class or book titles change. Inventing a magic curriculum can be fun.

Determine how long school lasts in hours per day, months, and years and if there are ranks that people achieve at various stages. This can help break “wizards” from one organized mass into smaller groups distinguished from each other. An obvious decision is for multiple years, and with this chosen, we can choose ranks. For example, if it’s seven years, we can use the seven colors in the spectrum to denote those at each stage of completion, and maybe they wear robes of a given color to show it. If it’s four, maybe we use seasons or elements.

Are there tests that must be passed to advance? It seems obvious. We don’t have to decide what they are, but it can add interest, particularly if each year has one test that is more feared than the predecessors. It’s a chance to invent stories about what happened to one person or another when failing. We shouldn’t go too far with this sort of thing unless our story is to heavily feature it.

At what point do graduates become eligible to teach others, whether at school or in an apprenticeship? Why would someone want my teaching instead of yours? Expertise and prestige are two reasons. We can gain the latter due to pedigree, training, accomplishments, and fame. Or even having past students of a given instructor go on to achieve greatness. Invent a famous instructor in the setting and determine why this is so.

We should also determine what happens if someone fails training or is expelled. Are they literally marked in some way, like a thief with a notch in their ear? Or perhaps their abilities have been removed. These people will be around and it makes our setting more believable that one should be encountered, particularly in longer tales. Their fate should be a warning to those in training.

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How Magic is Gained and Lost

We won’t look at how a wizard, shaman, or other type of practitioner spends his day so much as the phases of his career, from how the ability is gained and lost, their training, what life is like at the height of power and then if they begin to lose strength with age.

How the Ability is Gained and Lost

Even if everyone in a setting can perform magic, we must decide how the ability is gained (or lost). Our default is that it’s like talent; you’ve either got it or you don’t. However, even among those who do, they sometimes don’t know it, feel it, or have it until they reach a given milestone. This can be an age or event, such as losing virginity, a first period for a female, or the first time we draw blood or kill someone. Maybe we even need to die and be reborn. Perhaps the ability can be given like a gift under certain conditions. We might have to consume something once or regularly, like a potion, pill, plant, or animal.

What about losing the ability? This seldom gets a mention but is worth focusing on. If magic is a talent, then it theoretically never goes away. But maybe it depends on how the magic works. Songwriters always have the talent to write music, but as we all know, some are better than others and there are times when a band seems unable to write great music anymore. If performing magic requires some originality or inspiration, then maybe some wizards have fallen from grace, their “heyday” behind them. They can still do it, but they’re out of ideas for new actions. They’re the equivalent of a “has been” band still touring and playing their greatest hits.

If an event causes magic ability, can another make it stop? Maybe a potion, pill, plant, or animal takes it away. Perhaps someone must be celibate like a priest; this raises the unfortunate prospect of rape being used to render a wizard non-magical. What if killing someone, drawing blood, or another act causes the ability to weaken or fade? The gods can make this a reality to punish people, particularly if magic was used to perform the act. A benevolent god might do this, but perhaps a nefarious one grants the talent for causing mayhem.

If the ability is gained or lost, decide if this is permanent or not. Maybe having it was never forever anyway. Maybe the sun gives the ability, but the sun is too far away in winter and wizards cease to be one for part of the year. Do magic items stop working at that time, too? What if an item was holding up a building?

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