Gelatinous Icosahedron

 A character's spells are an important resource, both for the individual and the party. As such, a big part of the game's challenge comes from managing them well, and different schemes offer different incentives in play. Below, I compare and contrast the differences between some common spell casting systems, with special attention to their effects on resource management and player decision-making. Prepare and forget : The by-the-book method for most older editions of D&D and their modern clones and simulacra. Choose spells for your caster to prepare or memorize each day. Those are the spells you get, and when you cast one, it disappears from the caster's mind until prepared again after a full rest. You can choose to prepare multiple instances of the same spell, if you want to be able to cast it more than once.  In theory, this is Hard Mode resource management: your spells are limited  and  you have to choose them in advance, with imperfect to nearly nonexistent f...

So, I've decided on a new project: revamping the B/X spell lists to improve or replace seldom-chosen or un-useful spells and spells that are problematic for social/intrigue-style campaigning or world-building generally, add a few spells to fill gaps, and offer some alternatives for campaigns with less of an emphasis on combat (or at least on combat magic-users.) As I've been sifting through the lists and pondering changes, I've noticed some odd things about spell naming conventions. As one might expect from compilations of spells created by various authors at various points in time, there's no real unifying principle behind it. We have spells with wonderfully evocative names like Knock and Haste, which don't tell you what the spell does in so many words, but for which the association is easy to remember once you do know. We have blandly prosaic names like Wall of Fire, Water Breathing, and Remove Curse - exactly what it says on the tin, as it were. We have weirdly s...

 Everybody has an opinion on the so-called Vancian casting system of classic D&D. Some (myself among them) find the idea of "fire-and-forget" spells to be a poor representation of the kind of fiction we want to represent. Some (again, including myself) find it too rigid, and dislike the incentives it provides toward spell selection. And then there are those on the other side of the fence, who like the in-fiction implications (still not a fan) or who see value in such a system for the purpose of promoting game elements of resource management and player skill (for which I do have an appreciation.)  Not a whole lot need be said about the in-universe implications of spell preparation. It could literally be a case of impressing patterns of magical energy (or imprisoning a minor daemon or other entity) in the mind and then discharging it, losing the pattern or knowledge until it is prepared again) but it could just as easily be reskinned as carefully preparing proper reagen...

 Magical pools of water have been a part of D&D since at least B1: In Search of the Unknown and its infamous room of pools, and of myth, legend, and fantasy for far longer. A "pool" can be found in a dungeon, a deep forest, a mountaintop, a ruined castle, or even in a town. It can be a standard pool, or a font, a fountain, a basin, a pond, a spring, a cistern, or any other smallish body of water. Typically, the powers of a magical pool are invoked by drinking its water, bathing or sprinkling oneself or another object, immersing something in it, or gazing at its surface, though other methods are possible. Its waters are usually only potent in the immediate vicinity of the pool, and lose their powers if bottled and carried away. Pool of Vanity : The surface of the water reflects the images of those gazing on it in an exaggeratedly grand fashion, making them more attractive and more extravagantly attired. Pool of Clarity : This pool reflects only the truth, revealing the tru...

Every fantasy world needs more than just monsters and dungeons populating its wilderness areas. Magical trees are a great way to add a little color and mystique to a campaign setting, and something for adventuring PCs to interact with and possible use. If you've got a dark and gloomy forest, a haunted graveyard, a mystical mountaintop, or a desert oasis, what better way to give them some extra zing? Magical trees may look like some type of ordinary tree, or may be of unusual color, shape, size, or otherwise distinctive features. Trees have all manner of possible uses, from shelter to materials for constructing things mundane or magical to food and medicine. When some magical effect is mentioned below, and no means of invoking them is mentioned, consider whether fruit or nuts, sap, leaves, blossoms, bark, or wood lends itself best to a particular use, and by what means. Tree of Life : A leaf from the very top of this tree has the power to restore life to a recently deceased creature...

 One of the things I dislike about some D&D settings, especially high-magic ones or "kitchen sink" ones, is the way magic is so ubiquitous as to be effectively a surrogate for technology. Sometimes it's semi-subtle, but often it's obviously, or even explicitly, an analog of some real world or sci-fi technology -- TV, radio, the internal combustion engine (oh-so-cleverly renamed "internal conjuration engine"), Star Trek transporters, and the like. If you've got the gold to spend, just hire some wizards, either to mass-produce magic items or to act as some sort of sorcerous butler/travel agent/housekeeper/personal chef/communications system. Another thing I dislike about some D&D games is how easy it is to bloat one's spell books with spells scribed from scrolls found as treasure, and how spells tend to be traded and shared freely between the party's spellcasters until everyone's books are essentially complete and homogenous. The obviou...