Tuesday, December 31, 2024

DCCRPG Discworld

One of my (many) flaws is that I never read Terry Pratchett’s Discworld. I’m working on my defects (some of them at least…) and I finally read The Colour of Magic and Light Fantastic, the first 2 books of the series. Let me be more precise: I read The Colour of Magic more than 15 years ago, but I read a translation. You CANNOT read translated Pratchett! Why? All the spirit and the fun of it are gone. It is like, I don’t know, like reading the translated Qur'an, or the translated Lusíadas, or basically trying to understand 99,99% of Japanese anime puns without a basic notion of kanji… you lose something if you translate it! Anyhow, I’m now reading 100% English Pratchett (or whatever you folks call this language). And my first thought was (or course!): “this would be very fun at my DCCRPG table!” Why? Well, DCCRPG already has a cool gonzo aspect. Ironically, most products and people that I know try to tone it down… well, it's time to tone it UP!



Warning: Like previous heresies on this blog, I’m pretending to write about adapting a media to a particular tabletop RPG, having read just a small part of it (there are... what?... some 40 books in Discworld?). So, yessir, I’m probably presuming some things wrong. That is why this is a hobby and not (thankfully) a business.



So, if you are creating a DCCRPG Discworld game, use all the Core Rulebook rules, except for the following:


Talkers Go First!: I’m pretty sure this rule is from a Doctor Who RPG. I love it and it shows up from time to time in my blog hacks! Basically, if combats break out, any player character (and only PCs) who wants to talk can do it before the violence begins. They get only one shot at it and they must spend all their Action Die (if any) on social/charisma (i.e. Personality) skill checks (intimidation, diplomacy, lies….) or just pure roleplay (my favourite approach). If your table likes to roll Personality checks, consider that every PC in DCCRPG Discworld is trained in such checks (i.e., they roll a 1d20 instead of 1d10 when trying to avoid a fight). They only get ONE ROUND to do it (I know that rounds in DCCRPG last 10 seconds, but I like to give each player around 30 seconds of pure roleplaying if they are in for it). If more than one PC wants to give it a try, let them go from lowest to highest Personality (so that the most charismatic PC can see other errors and correct them). They can attempt nothing else! No moves, no free/limited actions, no preparing/drawing/aiming, and no activation/charge of any spell or power. Basically, if any PC wants to try to chat with the monsters, LET THEM GO FOR IT! Which brings me to the second rule…


Reaction Rolls: C’mon! This is one of D&D’s best (and often ignored) rules! NEVER start a Discworld encounter with the idea that the monsters/oppositions will simply try to attack the PCs. That is so boring. Use your favourite D&D edition, OSE, or even more complicated charts. My point here is that we (unfortunately) got used to the idea of entering into a room and fighting monsters (nothing wrong with that). Things are not so simple here, because this is DCCRPG Discworld. All those orcs in the 4 x 4 room? Yes, they are probably guarding a pie. Of course, it is a (man-flesh) pie that they want to share with you! (How you deal with that is not my problem!). Reaction tables break the game’s traditional expectations, surprise players (and the judge), encourage roleplaying, and may promote the kind of absurdity that is 100% Pratchettian! Use it!


Of course, the above rules are all targeted toward avoiding combat. Why should we avoid combat? Well…


Fighting is Dangerous! Fighting is a horrible idea most of the time because, well, you can die on it. It is chaotic, rarely “glorious”. Forget those cool pictures of Heroes standing over piles of vanquished enemies… if they are lucky, they are probably as battered and hurt as those enemies… if not, they are probably as “vanquished”.

Fighting is very unpredictable in DCCRPG Discworld. Every time someone rolls 1 Action Die to attempt any violent action (like attacking), their general Fumble Range increases by +1 (it goes from 1 to 1-2). This is for EVERY Action Die, so if you roll 2 attacks, the first attack has a Fumble Range of 1-2 and the second of 1-3.

A PC’s Fumble Range keeps going up until a Fumble is triggered. When that happens, the judge rolls a d10 (or a d6 if they are mean). The result is deducted from their current Fumble Range (minimum is still 1).

The idea is that the longer the fight goes on, the more dangerous it gets. That is why you should (1) avoid it, (2) end it as quickly if unavoidable, and (3) use sneaky tactics to do so.

Heroes, particularly most Warriors, are too stupid to realize this rule (although some of the Disc’s greatest Heroes, like Cohen the Barbarian, are aware of it and will fight dirty to end the conflict as quick as possible).

Because combat is dangerous, any character in DCCRPG Discworld can withdraw from combat by using 1 Action Die. This action DOES NOT trigger any free attacks (again: the idea is that running is good here!). This also implies that the judge is free to set all kinds of unfair encounters against the PCs. They either must fight dirty (or run!).

Variant: Fighting is Dangerous FOR EVERYONE! If keeping the Fumble Range of every PC and NPC is too much work (it sounds so), instead of it, the judge should track a universal Fumble Bonus to affects everyone. When the first attack is made in an encounter, the Fumble Bonus is +0 (i.e. follow the normal rules). Every other attack roll after that increases it by +1, no matter if it is made by a PC or NPC. When a Fumble happens, the Fumble Bonus is not reset by 1d6 (minimum +0). If this is too much metagame, the judge can use a middle ground - each PC tracks their own Fumble Range, and the judge uses a universal Fumble Bonus just for the NPCs.



Fighting is NOT worth it! Fighting is not only dangerous but also dumb. If all the party did in one encounter was fight, they wouldn’t gain XP. NEVER! They only get XP if they get the treasure (or if they get directions to the treasure). If this happens, then the judge should reward XP normally.

Why are you looking at me like that? It says on the cover: “You are no hero…”. That works double for Discworld!


Warriors & Thieves: In DCCRPG Discworld, all PCs are Humans (I’m still going through the books… I might come back later for a Dwarf/Gnome, Troll or Elf class). This means that they are all Warriors, Thieves, or Wizards. I will talk more about Wizards later. For now, let's focus on Warriors and Thieves.


Thieves: The normal DCCRPG Thief is already the perfect Discworld class. Play it by the normal rules.


Warriors: Warriors have just one extra rule. When creating your Warrior, the PC can choose to sacrifice Intelligence and Personality points to increase Strength and Stamina. 3 points of Personality or 3 points of Intelligence buy either 1 point of Strength or Stamina. You must do this exchange in “blocks” of 3. You can’t, for example, take 2 points from Intelligence and 1 from Personality to increase Strength by 1. The minimum Intelligence and Personality are 3 (and, indeed, most “Heroes” of the Disc are often incapable of thinking at all, or of building complex sentences… like those that require 3 or more words). If you are all in for some dramatic roleplay, you can allow Intelligence and Personality to go down to 2 and use these REALLY low Intelligence and Personality rules from my previous KILL BILBO! DCCRPG. Go ahead, I can assure you the Tolkien Estate won’t charge.


Magic on the Discworld: Unlike most DCCRPG settings, the Discworld is bursting with magic! The entire Disc is overcharged with octarine radiance. This means that spellcasting is theoretically easier here. By “easy”, I mean charging up magic energy is easier… controlling it is another matter.

The first consequence of the Disc’s ludicrous amount of mana is that Wizards ignore Corruption, Lost, and Failure results. Life is good, no?

Unless dealing with the Dungeon Dimensions (or trying to cheat Death), there are no Corruption effects, as the excess magic energy discharges itself around the Wizard instead of focusing on their body and soul. Mechanically, this works very much like increasing the Fumble Range in combats. Let's give it a fanciful name (Wizards love that): Octarine Overcharge!

The Octarine Overcharge (a.k.a. the O.O. Coefficient, the Infinitum Dictum, or “the Rule of 8”) is represented by a Mana Level stat. Every character in Discworld has a Mana Level of 1 (and it is usually only dangerous for Wizards). If any character rolls equal to or less than their Mana Level while spellcasting (or reading from a scroll/spellbook, etc.), they trigger an Octarine Overcharge! If they don’t trigger it, then their Mana Level increases by 1 merely for the attempt.

Remember that mana permeates the Disc and that it has a natural tendency to build up in areas around spellcasting? Well, if a character is in an encounter where magic (i.e. a spell) happens, their Mana Level automatically increases by 1 merely by witnessing someone else spellcasting. The octarine radiance just taints everyone around and starts building up a charge! This means that an encounter with two or more spellcasting Wizards can quickly build up enough to trigger an Octarine Overcharge.

While Wizards in the Disc ignore the Lost/Failure result, every time they roll it they increase their Mana Levels (and of those of every other character in the encounter) not by 1 but by 1d6. If they are in a REALLY strong magic field (as set by the judge), then maybe a Failure/Lost result increases the local Mana Levels by 1d8 or even 1d10! For example, Wizards holding the Octavo would probably roll 1d10 for a Failure/Lost result.

The worst happens when an Octarine Overcharge itself is triggered! Spells run out of control as they feed on the surplus of octarine. This is represented by a series of Spell Misfires rolls that impact all characters in the encounter! The number of Misfires is found out by taking the highest Mana Level among the characters (PCs and NPCs), dividing it by 5 (rounding up), and adding +1 for every Wizard. So, if a fight between the PCs (3 Thieves, 1 Warrior, and 1 Wizard) and 3 students of the Unseen Academy (3 NPC Wizards), triggers an Octarine Overchange, then the judge must first check for Mana Levels. Probably all the Thieves and Warriors will have 1 (or a bit more, as they probably witnessed some spellcasting). Let's say the PC Wizard has a Mana Level of 8, and the 3 NPCs have Mana Levels of 5, 4, and 4. That means you pick the highest Manal Level of 8 and divide it by 5 (rounding up), which equals 2. Now you add +1 per Wizard (+4), for a total of 6. So the judge will randomly choose 6 spells to Misfire (it is always nice to let the players roll those Misfires). If there are not enough spells around, the judge is free to randomly roll a new spell and let it Misfire.

In rare cases, if the Octarine Overcharge happens in a place suffused with magic, such as the Octavo Chamber or the temple of Bel-Shamharoth, then a trigger also can cause a Phlogiston Disturbance (usually this disturbance will affect only Wizards, but some results will be bad news for everyone else). Judge’s call.

How do Mana Levels go down? There are at least 3 options. The first is by triggering Octarine Overcharge (not recommended). All the victims of the Overcharge set their Mana Level back to 1. Another option is to avoid being closer to spellcasting for at least 8 hours (one night of sleep). This reduces the Mana Level by 1d6 (minimum 1). Finally, if a Wizard roll a Failure/Lost result, instead of increasing the Mana Level by 1d6, the Wizard can decide to forget the spell, also suffering 1d6 points of Intelligence Ability Loss. The amount of Ability Loss suffered is also deducted from their Mana Level (minimum 1) and the spell is Lost until it can be memorized again.

One final rule: every time a caster Spellburns, they automatically increase their Mana Level by 2d6 or the amount of Spellburn damage, whichever is LOWER.




Wizards: Ah, Wizards. Those dudes (and dudettes) are special… I mean, “special” as a living radioactive battery is special in the sense that it should be avoided by all sane people. Here are new rules for creating Wizards.

First, they can burn 3 points of Strength, Stamina, or Personality to increase their Intelligence by 1 point (following similar rules as Warriors).

Second, I can’t say why but I feel that the Spell Stipulation rules from DCC Lankhmar have a more “Discwordly” feel than Mercurial Magic, so feel free to use them.

Third, Wizards in the Disc can see the magical part of the light spectrum: Octarine, the 8th Colour. This is basically an innate form of detect magic. Wizards can ask for Ability Skill checks to see the local amount of magic, to assess the Mana Levels of other characters, and to see if an item or creature has “excessive Octarine” (i.e. if it is magical). They still can’t identify magic items. Obfuscate magic (DCCRPG Core Rulebook p. 152) can fool this sense.


Wizards & Death (with a capital “D”): Wizards have some metaphysical privileges in the Disc. The most (in)famous one is that Death itself will come to claim their souls when their time is due (other PCs will be taken by randomly assigned and invisible psychopomps of lower rank). This means that Wizards have special Luck rules, some advantages, and disadvantages.

First, every time a Wizard suffers damage, they can decide to have it taken either from their current Hit Points (like everyone else) or from the current Luck points. One or the other. They are sneaky coward bastards that seem particularly afraid of dying (I mean, more than the usual for people of the Disc…).

Second, the previous rule might sound fun, but it exists because Wizards are instantly visited by Death itself if their hit points or Luck points reach 0. They can’t use the Bleeding Out and Recovering the Body rules (DCCRPG Rulebook p. 93).

Third, they can TRY to avoid that grisly fate, but it is not easy. They have basically two options: either somehow convince Death that it is not their time yet or they can desperately draw power from the Dungeon Dimensions to escape.


Out-talking Death of “deathing” you: this is really hard. The PC has two options. The first one is a desperate Personality check with a DC of 20. If they pass, they pose some argument to Death regarding the current chain of events and how it was somehow and unfortunately premature. Death is not happy about that, but it can’t change the rules. The PC survives with 1 hit point if their friends can reach their body. HOWEVER, they are groggy for the next hour (-4 penalty to all rolls) and sustain a permanent injury of some kind, reflected as a permanent -1 penalty to Strength, Agility, or Stamina (determined randomly). After this episode, they are followed by a lesser death, which will constantly annoy and scare them at the worst moments, merely by “checking in” to see if it is the time “to call the Boss in”. This psychopomp presence means that the Judge can trigger 1 Fumble once per game session on the poor (but deserving) Wizard. The Fumble is not an automatic failure, but an extra effect of the Wizard’s otherwise normal check (so yes, it is possible to get 2 Fumbles if the Wizard also rolls a 1). The Wizard CANNOT out-talk Death a second time.

The roleplaying option: Instead of all the shenanigans above, the PC get 1 minute to talk astrally with Death and convince Him/It. This is represented by the PC telling the table a joke. If most people laugh, congratulations, you dirty bastard, you’re back. Better yet, no lesser psychopomp follows you (as Death kind of warms up to your PC). Otherwise, you are dead. (Only use this option if the table loves this type of roleplaying/metagame stuff).


Invoking Powers from the Dungeon Dimensions: instead of letting Death grab them, the PC in act of desperation pulls energy from those non-Euclidian, dreaded, and tentacled-obsessed planes. The PC must roll a Spellcasting check (accounting for Mana Level and all) against a DC of 25. They can try to Spellburn but all the Spellburn damage is PERMANENT. If they succeed, they manage to summon something or concoct a pact to escape their fate. Death is NOT HAPPY. The PC’s Luck is reduced permanently by half. They also gain a major corruption from their contact with those “Things”. This can only be attempted ONCE. For a second shot at this, they must find a Dungeon Dimension patron, bond their souls to it… and probably become an NPC, but that is for the table to decide.



…I think I’m forgetting something: Oh yeah, Clerics! I don’t think there are Clerics (such as in DCCRPG) in the Discworld. The gods of the Discworld are potent entities, but no true Cleric would have the courage to admit that they follow one of those divinities (c’mon, they are famous for throwing rocks and breaking atheists’ windows).

Deities in the Discworld are still important as they are the PCs’ best source of recovering Luck. If a PC is chosen by a god and performs well (good luck), they might get 1-3 Luck points back for performing quests and specific tasks for their god.

So, yeah, for now, no Clerics. This means the following:

It was just a flesh wound: Like in DCC Lankhmar, during combat, the PC can spend 1 Luck to instantly roll recover 1 class hit dice (plus Stamina mod) of damage. They cannot attempt any other action that round (except running!). They can only do this once per combat.

Taking a breather: If the party can spend 1 turn (10 minutes) resting, drinking water, and maybe having a snack after a combat, they recover 1 hit dice of damage (plus Stamina, if positive). They can’t recover more than they suffered in the last encounter, of course. They can always take this breather after every combat, but the judge is encouraged to roll a random encounter if this is abused (or to reduce any Luck award, as the PC’s god will complain about their constant delays).

That is all Folks!

I hope you enjoyed this small hack (and I hope this is playable, as I haven’t tested it yet). If I keep reading Discworld, I’ll probably at some point create some new classes for it: I would love some kind of Troll class, but my goal right now is a Tourist class! 

Tuesday, December 24, 2024

On Magic, Corruption, and Risks…

A lot of RPGs sell their magic systems with catchphrases such as power, corruption, madness, and chaos. It all goes back to the fiction that informs those games. From mythologies, folklore, and classics to more recent fantasy literature, magic is often portrayed as something that taints the caster’s soul, it is beyond their control, and ultimately brings about their doom. Magic always demands a price.


You don’t need to go far to find RPGs that try to emulate that. There is one of my all-time favourites, Warhammer Fantasy, where usually you can decide to push for more mojo when spellcasting at the cost of triggering all sorts of unpredictable results (including the classic trope “demon shows up and drags the screaming wizard into Hell”). Most RPG systems that try to mimic this trope do so through rolls that trigger a host of unpleasant (and sometimes) lethal effects. Again, Warhammer Fantasy is (in)famous for its Chaos Tables, where spellcasters gain mutations and madness. GURPS has it backlash table. MERP used a system where spellcasting would bring the attention of the Enemy, triggering extra encounters (the same principle guides the “Eye of Sauron” rules of The Rong Ring today). Mage, the Ascension, a more narrative system, had all sorts of consequences available on its Paradox subsystems (mutations, madness, exile etc.). Call of Cthulhu, of course, drives its casters insane. 7th Sea (particularly the 1st Edition) has some VERY risky magic systems built upon narrative constraints (Porté, for example, will LITERALLY kill the caster if they merely open their eyes while teleporting). Riddle of Steel has magic that would age the caster. Star Wars has corruption rules (the Dark Side) for Force users. Ad infinitum.

It is ironic that the gorilla in the corner of the RPG market – D&D – rarely if ever bothered with the trope. Most D&D campaign settings do not even care to explain magic at all. The d20 boom that started with the 3rd Edition opened the chance for others to publish their own “not-D&D” games and we got A LOT of good systems for dangerous magic – such as draining magic in Midnight or the healing magic rules in Iron Kingdoms. Even the OSR took plenty of chances at it, with my favourite risk system being the one in the GLOG (where wizards are eternally under threat by the Three Dooms of their schools). One of my other favourite games – DCCRPG – has the entire menu thing built on it: spellcasting can cause mutations, destruction, insanity, kill the spellcaster, drag them to hell etc. Spellcasting duels can rip holes in reality and cause all kinds of mayhem. In fact, from the top of my head, DCCRPG spellcasters (particularly Wizards and Elves) are some of the most unpredictable characters on any RPG table (yes, that is a compliment).


Going back to D&D, it is fair to say that sometimes they tried to incorporate their (at first rather bland) magic mechanics into settings or even add some cost or risk. I have fond memories of Dragonlance setting and fiction really showing a world where D&D magic rules impacted society, particularly during the AD&D 1st and 2nd eras (the Orders of High Sorcery and their trials were a nice touch to the idea of “cost” to arcane magic in D&D). Eberron did the same for the 3rd edition with its “magic economy” – it built a setting where all those shenanigans made some sense. There are even some rare exceptions where D&D did try to run its own version of “magic as dangerous and corruptive”. They are also some of the best worlds for many fans – such as Dark Sun and Ravenloft (I am pretty sure the AD&D Player’s Option series and the Dragon Magazines can offer more examples).



I’m probably forgetting a lot of other games here and I apologize beforehand for that. However, I hope I gave you some context.

That said, I believe there is a certain confusion with all the approaches mentioned above. They mix two completely different themes – at least in my head – Risk and Corruption.

Risky magic is when it is totally or partially beyond the caster’s control. Often this is used through some sort of randomizer. The basic examples are magic systems where a bad roll (i.e. a fumble or critical failure) triggers (1) unwanted consequence or (2) some cost. The first option usually results in the spell changing some of its parameters (e.g., targeting different people, or maybe even doing something completely new… the latter usually by checking a table). The second aspect is often damage or some loss of resources (from the spell itself to other spellcasting capacities). Some RPGs impose permanent costs or limitations on its spellcasters – taboos, vulnerabilities, physical changes etc. Reign 1st offered some of the most interesting for their casters (I still have to check the 2nd Edition).

In my head, 99% of RPG magic systems that claim that magic is “dangerous and corruptive” are actually just talking about Risky Magic. Yes, Warhammer Fantasy is 100% here. Basically, these systems – to different degrees – insert random consequences and costs every time a PC tries to use their koolz powers. I loved those systems to death because in my head magic without any consequences (be it narrative or mechanic) is just superpowers with a different nametag. For me, magic requires a cost. It needs to have narrative or mechanic “teeth”. You can, of course, implement this approach to the degree that you (and your table) like. Some truly appreciate the danger with EVERY roll when magic is involved. Others prefer that a certain degree of agency be maintained for their spellcasters. Usually, the latter can be accomplished through options to cast safely or to channel more power, pushing the caster’s luck, or accepting some “Devil’s Bargain” mechanic. I’m fine with the spectrum, as long it helps the table to have fun and keeps magic, well, “magic” (that ‘je ne sais quoi’ that is essential for the flavour in some settings).

And before someone complains that they don’t see any problem with magic as superpowers… well, yes, you can have that, but – for everyone’s sake – just be CLEAR about it. There are VERY GOOD examples of magic as just cool extra powers, but you have to present them clearly, get everyone on board, and modulate your game’s fiction to support it (i.e., it must make sense). Otherwise, you will run into the “everyone must be a Jedi” problem (you can change it to “everyone must be an Elemental Bender”, “everyone must be a mage” etc.). Basically, if there are ZERO costs to magic, and if magic can accomplish a lot, then why isn’t EVERYONE in the party a mage? [There are some narrative and mechanical solutions for that question, but that is beyond this post. Some RPGs do it very well, such as 13th Age, FATE, and Avatar Legends for that matter. Some fiction remains fantastic even when using that trope and they are AWSOME, such as a good chunk of Sanderson’s Cosmere.]

Going back to magic. So, there is Risky Magic. What most RPGs call “magical corruption” is basically another way of saying that casting too much magic in those systems will fill your PC with weird physical and mental conditions, if it doesn’t kill you outright. Just that.

Do you truly want the trope of Magic as Corruption? Well, that one is harder. In my opinion, it is also a lot rare in RPGs. I normally identify two reasons for that.

The first one is about tone, limits, and common sense. When we are saying that magic corrupts your PC’s soul, we are basically stating that using magic is going to make you do a lot of awful or very dark shit. This can be off-limits for most tables (and I agree with that). Of course, if your table REALLY likes this trope, you are all adults and you know each other well enough to craft a good story (usually a tragic, dark, and very horror-based one) then by all means: give it a shot. But it is a balancing act. It is like enjoying (good) horror media: you have to be aware of boundaries, agency, and the self-awareness that you are creating/consuming this creative media for all to enjoy. Some RPGs did take that road. Most often, they present Magic as Corruption through narrative elements. A good example is magic rituals where the requirements of the spell are themselves horrific or the kind of thing that would give most people pause. Kult is a RPG that is famous for suggesting that kind of thing (although not to the degree that you would imagine… it is more of a reputation than a fact I would say). The OSR sourcebook Carcosa went in that direction by being very direct with its (otherwise d20-like) magic: all its summoning and spells require (a lot of) human sacrifice. There is no way around it. The games don’t glorify this element (thankfully) and it is quite clear on stating that sorcery is really bad and fucked-up.

The second reason why Magic as Corruption is so rare is that is a lot more challenging to provide mechanics for it. Yes, you can simply remove PC agency and make them do horrible stuff, but that is VERY boring. You have to preserve agency to the degree that, once shit hits the fan, the PC is aware that “Oh fuck! I did it”, instead of blaming this on the Dice Gods. Thus, the best corruption systems that try to tackle this used temptation as a hook to catch the player. Some really cool subsystems that can work as a template for Magic as Corruption can be found, for example, in Vampire: the Requiem and Werewolf: the Forsaken, particularly their Storyteller Handbooks and 2nd Editions. For example, pay attention to subsystems that require your PCs to keep human contacts to retain their sanity.

Now, you don’t have to go down such a dark road for Magic as Corruption. There are very simple ideas used in some RPGs that also work very well. Do you want one such example? Dark Sun, particularly the original AD&D 2nd edition. Wizards in Dark Sun can practice Preserving or Defiling magic. In this setting, magic drains life. If you channel it, life around you starts dying, usually starting with plants and small animals. There are ways to avoid the worst of it – Preserving – but the best mojo (i.e. the quicker and more powerful spells) are all based on Defiling – on sucking as much energy as often as possible. There you have it: a simple but awesome Magic as Corruption system principle. Yes, you can cast all the fireballs you want, but that will kill all the forest and fields around you… and also maybe deal some damage to your friends. So, what do you do? Again, the key in my opinion is to tempt the player with interesting mechanical options. THIS is Magic as Corruption at its core. You give the PC a choice, and you see they start to try to justify the lesser of two evils. The rest is for the table to enjoy. (Magic as Corruption in this case is also one of the “safest” to try at the table because it avoids the darker themes that we mentioned above).


On the top of my head, another awesome example was blood magic (maho) in Legend of the Five Rings 1st Edition: ANY character could plead with dark spirits to learn it, and once learned – oh boy – those spells were useful. But then, L5R triggered a set of corruption rules that were interestingly connected with the setting lore. It was almost like a death spiral. Too much corruption would eventually turn your PC into a monster (but not immediately). Meanwhile, everything in the setting would see you as a monster and try to kill you (even if you acted as a moral paladin). So, to defend yourself, you would probably use more dark magic. Brilliant!

One final example is Star Wars d6 (you know, the best one 
😉), where any Force-sensitive character can immediately gain a Dark Side Point if they use their powers in anger. The death spiral here was a LOT faster… but that 1st Dark Side Point was “safe” to acquire. The consequence? Most Force users in my campaigns were “tainted”. They took a bite of the Dark and created wonderful narrative consequences to explore (besides the temptation of getting that 2nd Dark Side point… after all, the chances of falling to the Dark Side were “just” 16.66%).



Adding Magic as Corruption to your table (some very simple ideas):

So, my young padawan, do you want a feel of the Dark Side? Well, here are some very basic ideas. I hope they can spice your games (but talk with your players about this before starting on this road).

Side Commentary: This entire post was inspired by the idea of introducing what I like to call “creepypasta” lore or macabre secrets to an otherwise “normal” d20 game. The kind of stuff that would tempt people (and perhaps PCs) to do horrible stuff and then deal with that. That post is still coming, my loves. Wait for it!


DCCRPG: You already have all the tools you need here. Just introduce one simple enemy NPC who uses living defenceless victims to use Spellburn instead of damaging his own Ability Scores. LET THE PC SPELLCASTERS see the villain doing that. Let them know it is possible. This is the oldest evil magic trope: using sacrifices to power magic. However, when they decide to do that, instead of dealing ability damage (NPCs don’t have Ability Scores), explain that they are dealing damage and gaining 1 point of Spellburn per hit point (the victim must be either willingly or defenceless). If you want, go ahead and also add an element of risk: the PC can’t fine-tune the Spellburn (personally, I hate the fact that PCs can choose precisely how many points of Ability they lose for Spellburn). So, for this evil version, they must choose a weapon and roll damage (such as 1d4 for a dagger). The Judge is free to decide on a die for unusual circumstances (such as 1d3 per minute when bleeding a victim). The PCs don’t know how many hit points an NPC has (most 0-level people have 1d4 hit points). Better yet, the Judge should let the damage die explode. So, if you used a dagger (1d4) and rolled a 4, reroll and keep adding until reducing the NPC to 0 hit points (i.e. killing them). Keep tabs on who the PC kill. Potential consequences: shift their alignment to Chaos, consider them un-holy for most of the setting’s religions (at least those from Law and the Balance), and, finally, revenge! Did they sacrifice a poor gongfarmer? The dude has a big family, full of cousins, all hellbent on revenge! Or maybe they killed a thief with a pious sister who convinced a knight to create a band of inquisitors to go after the “devil magician” (i.e. the PC). Did they sacrifice a monster? Same principle: that beastmen was a member of a tribe! Don’t forget to make evil demon Patrons appear and offer to recruit the PC (asking them to do worse stuff and getting MORE enemies). Finally, remember that sacrifices in some cases CAN and SHOULD return as vengeful un-deads (or at least curse their killers). Watch how long the PC can go and have fun.

D&D B/X and its retroclones: use the Preserving/Defile idea of Dark Sun. Magic drains life. If the PC is using the Preserving, follow the normal spellcaster rules. If they decide to use Defiling magic, let the PC make a saving throw after casting. If they succeed, they don’t lose the spell. What are the consequences of Defiling? The original rules were complex, so here is my take: Defiling magic destroys all normal plant life in a 10’ ft radius per spell level. All plant life decays into ashes, and NOTHING grows there for one year (trees might die but still stand as dead husks). If more Defiling is cast within the span of 1 turn (10 minutes), add all the spell levels cast and DOUBLE the range of the damage. If there is no plant life in range, then all creatures (and plant creatures) within the 10 ft. radius suffer intense pain. More importantly, creatures with the same amount of HD as the spellcaster or less (or 0-level ones) suffer 1 point of damage per spell level (no save). Yes, this includes allies. Elves and druids consider Defiling a capital crime. Most religions concerned with life and nature won’t help, heal, or assist Defilers. Paladins will hunt them down, killing them ON SIGHT. The GM is encouraged to leave some mark on Defilers. Ideas: they smell of ashes or leave ashes in any place they stay too long, or maybe their hands start getting darker (as if burned) the more they use Defiling.