Welcome back, everyone! This was actually supposed to be my first post for Dragon Quill, but once I saw Farla had the “Dresden Files Exploration” post lined up, I thought I’d wait and turn this one into a sort of companion piece.
Now, I think Farla is too quick in giving up on having real magic in a setting that is mostly like the real world, but I do agree with her that it’s something really complicated to do, when most authors simply hand wave the whole thing with a “Oh, it exists but it’s been a secret for all this time, see?”. So here are some questions (not necessarily in order of importance) I think every author and GM should ask themselves on how to take their magical system into account for their setting.
1) How powerful is magic? Basically, what are the magical abilities of an average wizard? And what are the upper limits on what can be done with magic? For instance, if the average wizard can become invisible, teleport around and call down thunder and lightning on his enemies at will, magic in your setting is pretty damn powerful. Conversely, if the average wizard can only see and hear ghosts and other assorted supernatural entities, well, he might be able to set up his own religion (which does bring with it a great amount of social power), but he’ll still be very vulnerable to a case of Sword in the Guts. This is important to define mainly for two reasons: one, if magic isn’t too flashy, it’s easier to keep it a secret (if that’s what the setting requires); and two, if magic isn’t too powerful, that means wizards can be kept in check with mundane means, which ensures its impact on society won’t be too great (again, if that’s what’s desired).
2) How powerful is magic compared to technology? Related to the above: what can a wizard do that can’t be achieved with mundane means? Converting a portion of your spiritual force into a fireball is awesome, but if a regular human can just fire a gun for the same effect, it’s a lot less impressive. On the other hand, if the world is at a technological level equivalent to Ancient Greece and magicians can literally strike people dead with a word, it’s safe to say they’d basically be worshipped as gods
3) What is the availability of magic? Who knows (and believes) that magic exists? Who knows how to find it? Who can learn it? The rarer the knowledge of the existence of magic (or at least of the spells themselves), the fewer magicians the setting will have (which is an obvious thing to point out, but that doesn’t make it any less true). Likewise, if magic is much like Physics or Chemistry, in that (theoretically) anyone can learn it (even if it’s an extremely difficult subject), it will be much more common than in a setting where you need to have some kind of inborn gift to be even capable of learning how to cast spells.
4) What are the inherent limits and requirements of magic? Another question related to the first one. Does magic require elaborate rituals that take a long time to be performed and consume exotic ingredients, or is it just a matter of saying some words, making some gestures and “Poof!”? Do magicians need a healthy body and a strong mind to deal with the arcane forces, or do they only need to have the proper knowledge? Again, the easier it is to learn magic or cast spells, the harder it will be to justify the existence of magic remaining a secret. On the other hand, if magic is too costly or difficult to use, it can be hard to justify why anyone still practices it.
I think those are enough, at least for now. Now, let’s set those questions aside and look at how some stablished urban fantasy settings dealt with them – or not, as the case may be.
Shadowrun – Shadowrun is a Cyberpunk / Fantasy RPG (a tabletop one, for you whippersnappers that only play video game RPGs) in which History was very much like in the real world, until the year of 2012 (at the time the book was written, that date was nearly twenty years in the future), when suddenly magic and the supernatural came back in full force, completely changing the world. Now, we have sorcerers, shamans, Orcs (here spelled “Orks”), Dwarves and Elves, and many other assorted fantasy character types, perfectly adapted to a traditional cyberpunk setting with advanced technology, general lawlessness and mega-corporations running the world. It’s weird, bizarre, and GLORIOUS! Too bad the rules system is a bit clunky and more cumbersome than it should be (at least until the 4th edition of the game, which was the last one I played).
On the other hand, we could argue Shadowrun actually cheats quite a bit in this regard. For starters, since the game takes place in an imagined future and magic didn’t exist for most of its History, the writers didn’t have to explain how their world managed to stay exactly the same as the real one for all that time. Secondly, magic re-emerged at a time when technology was already quite powerful and only grew even more so – sure, wizards can cast fireballs and lightning bolts, fly around, control minds and summon elemental spirits to do their bidding, but any one of those feats can be replicated with hi-tech gadgets (heavy firearms, personal jetpacks, brainwashing drugs, androids, etc.), and street samurai (a character type which is basically a cross between an eighties’ action hero and a Kurosawa protagonist) with the right cybernetic implants can still slash the wizard 16 times before he even blinks.
Even so, it’s undeniable that the confirmed existence of such powerful magic would change society profoundly, and the writers took that into account; they just made things easier for themselves by integrating those changes into a society that was already more or less fantastical, compared to that of the real world.
Traditional Super-Hero Comics (namely, Marvel and DC) – In standard super-hero settings, most magician characters are basically costumed heroes just like all others, only with a few different aesthetics. Sure, they’re usually a lot more versatile in terms of special abilities (and a lot more prone to being used as Dei Ex Machina by writers) than most other characters, but what’s the functional difference between Cyclops’ eye beams and Doctor Strange’s arcane bolts? Or Green Lantern’s energy barriers and Doctor Fate’s sorcerous shields? And much like their non-magical counterparts, sorcerers aren’t allowed to meaningfully affect the world around them (which is supposedly like our own world, only with super-powered people in tights) in any way. Their super-hero origins are also as varied as usual, so there isn’t a single way to access magic in a comic book universe: Brother Voodoo started out receiving his magical knowledge from the ghost of his brother, but he’s learned more incantations since then; Zatanna’s magical powers are inborn, but she expands and refines them by means of studying; and all of Doctor Doom’s magical knowledge comes from studying (although it’s implied he inherited his mother’s gift for sorcery – because gypsies are magical people! Classy, Marvel, classy).
Of course, that’s for the majority of super-hero comic books. Series (limited or ongoing) that focus specifically on a single* magical character tend to play up the magical aspects and how it sets them apart from their fellow costumed heroes. For instance, in the original Doctor Strange series, magic almost seemed as it if were alive, with the way Strange and the Ancient One spoke sometimes; in addition, magic-users (even evil ones) seemed to be bound by a code they wouldn’t break not out of honour or virtue, but because the punishment would be terrifying.
* Strangely, when the book is about a team – even if it’s a magic-themed team –, it tends to follow traditional super-hero conventions. See, for instance, DC Comics’ Primal Force and Shadowpact series.
Interestingly enough, some books in DC Comics’ Vertigo line – especially Neil Gaiman’s The Books of Magic – implied that magic was a world all its own, superimposed over the “real” one. Thus, magic was only tangible to those who had already stepped into the magical world; for others (like Dr. Terrence Thirteen), it couldn’t affect them because they gave it no power over themselves. This doesn’t really fit in with how sorcery and sorcerous characters were portrayed in the rest of the DC Universe (for instance, while it wasn’t common knowledge, it was known that Zatanna had been a part of the Justice League, and she sometimes acted like a mystical consultant for the police), but it is a cool (if sort of mind-blowing) explanation as to how we can have a fictional setting similar to the real world, only with supernatural elements. And besides, the Vertigo line has always had a weird place within the DCU’s continuity.
J. Michael Straczynski (probably best known for the Babylon 5 TV series) also provided an interesting justification in a Doctor Strange mini-series, The Oath. In it, it’s stated that magic and science are opposed to each other on a fundamental level: science tries to make sense of the Universe, while magic takes its power from the unknown (I’m paraphrasing here, but that’s the gist of it). Thus, as mankind’s scientific knowledge marches on, magic becomes ever more limited. It’s not an entirely original concept (other works have made use of it; for instance, while it doesn’t show up in the visual novel itself, that’s the explanation as for why Magi keep getting weaker over time in Kinoko Nasu’s Fate/Stay Night series), and it raises a whole lot of other issues, it’s another interesting possibility.
Highlander – Come on, you didn’t really think I’d leave Highlander out after seeing that title, would you? Besides, I love that movie! It’s a good thing Hollywood never made any sequels, it really doesn’t need any.
On a more serious note, I only mention this movie specifically because it shows just how difficult it is to actually maintain the supernatural hidden in a setting with modern investigative and technological resources available. And it takes place in the eighties; imagine trying to do the same thing nowadays, when information can be spread nearly instantaneously and databases are ever more intrusive!
Hm, it seems I should have given a lot more credit to Farla’s misgivings about how difficult it is to have real magic in a setting which is mostly like the real world, considering the examples I’ve given (and others I haven’t, such as Ars Magica and Deadlands). What if we turned away from works that explicitly define themselves as fantasy and looked for others that go the opposite direction, taking stories with explicit supernatural elements and reimagining those as being more ambiguous, or even removing them out entirely? For some reason, the Arthurian Matter is chosen particularly often for this kind of retelling (see, for example, Mary Stewart’s The Merlin Trilogy, Bernard Cornwell’s The Warlord Chronicles, and Marion Zimmer Bradley’s The Mists of Avalon), but it’s been done with other subject matters.
I thought at first of going over a few of those works individually, but then I realized they share the same approach to magic, for the most part: it might be real, but it also might not. Characters inside the story will often believe in the supernatural, but events are presented to the reader in a deliberately ambiguous manner (in Excalibur, the third book of The Warlord Chronicles, did Nimue really curse Ceinwyn, or did Nimue only take the credit for Ceinwyn’s disease? But then, was it only a coincidence that Ceinwyn recovered just as Nimue supposedly dispelled the curse?). When a supernatural gift of any kind is presented in an explicit manner, it tends to be one which isn’t flashy and is also analogous to real-world beliefs about magic (Mary Stewart’s Merlin has true prophetic powers, but they’re not entirely within his control and many people in real life used to believe in omens and portents – heck, many still do!). And when the magicians in those stories acquire social power, it’s in a manner similar to what religious cults and mystic advisors did in real life, as opposed to establishing their own fiefdoms as sorcerer-kings or creating vast secret conspiracies.
And that’s probably why many actually prefer the hand waving. See, part of the fantasy genre’s appeal is its inherent sense of wonder, of being magical. A setting which takes such pains to downplay what makes it so attractive in the first place had better have a damn good reason for doing so, or it might lose its audience. Having the world controlled by a secret cabal of Men in Black, vampires and evil entities from the spirit world while everything else stays exactly the same might not make much sense (and might even be offensive – no, people aren’t really racist, they’re just being influenced by evil spirits!), but damn if it isn’t fun for the readers / players!
So, does this mean those questions I brought up in the beginning are useless? Not at all! Coming up – or at least attempting to – with answers for those will only enrich your setting and your plots / adventures. Why, you might even find a way to create a story that makes logical sense AND satisfies the need for the fantastical. But if you don’t, don’t worry; just spend some time thinking about the inner workings of your story. Don’t just handwave things out of laziness.
Thanks for reading!
I would say that another useful question to ask is how magic evolved over time.
In many stories magic either slowly goes away or remains mostly the same. It would be interesting to construct a world where magic actually behaves like science: that is, new is greater than old.
Imagine a story with focus not on ancient artifacts of imaginable power but on new such artifacts which power is unimaginable because nothing like that had existed before.
Either way, thinking about the history of magic, how it influenced the civilization and was influenced by civilization is an interesting matter to ponder.
Another approach to creating an urban fantasy setting is to create a strong division between mundane world and magical one. The concept is simple: you have our familiar real world, same as always, and you have a parallel one which can be accessed under certain circumstances, be it finding a fairy ring in the forest, not sleeping for two weeks straight or falling into a TV at midnight.
Things could bleed over between the two worlds from time to time, serving as sources of myths and urban legends.
Such an approach allows you to not concern yourself with how magic managed to stay hidden all this time: it simply does not exist in this world.
The downside here is that it downplays the connection between magic and the mundane. In such a scenario a strange person you met on the street won’t be a secret magus. The stock market isn’t manipulated by vampires and Hitler didn’t summon any demonic armies to fight for him.
The connection can be reestablished by allowing actions inside the magical world to have consequences on the real one, like killing the symbolic representations of school bullies causing real kids to clean up their act.
That does run into the same problems as secret magic in general: if mages can influence the real world by arcane means, the effects would be felt by civilization. That can be addressed in a variety of ways, though, like making insanity the prerequisite of entering the hidden world or making it so those who venture there either die or resolve whatever issue allowed them to pass, which in turn closes the hidden world from them.
Or you can do both and get Don’t Rest Your Head (by one of the core creators of Unknown Armies, highly recommended).
Also:
“It’s not an entirely
original concept (other works have made use of it; for instance, while it
doesn’t show up in the visual novel itself, that’s the explanation as for why
Magi keep getting weaker over time in Kinoko Nasu’s Fate/Stay Night series”
It’s actually more complex than that. The advancement of scientific knowledge affects only True Magic (Sorcery) turning it into magecraft. Magecraft, however, doesn’t become less from it. Should humanity discover how to make androids, Touko’s dolls won’t become less.
Magecraft is weakened by the dilution of mystery and the lowering of soul density.
The first is caused by magi sharing the inner workings of their spells with other people. The latter is caused by the grows of population: the soul matter is finite, so the more there are people, the less each receives, which limits how great they can become.
I actually like the history of the Association very much, it should be noted. It ties many aspects of Nasuverse magic together.
You can see why it prevailed over magi more concerned with worldly matters like politics: magecraft is difficult and takes generations to develop, so obsessive individuals willing to spend their whole lives studying occult mysteries and passing the obsession on their children are the most powerful magi.
You can see how it turned so brutal and capricious: it was build on a paradox. Working together allows magi to achieve greater results, but doing so also lessens those results compared to what they could have been. Which creates tension and desire to ensure that only the “worthy” can enjoy the rewards.
Especially from the scions of old families who were raised to accept that destiny and no other, and those feel that they are entitled to rule over other magi and use the fruits of their labor. After all, they’ve put so much effort into each, and so did their parents and their parents and so on.
While one could question why the presence of magic (and not only magi but also various mythological creatures) isn’t felt more strongly, it is still one of the better constructed urban fantasy worlds. Especially if you go limit yourself to KnK.
“I would say that another useful question to ask is how magic evolved over time.”
Hm, I’d say it’s more of an interesting question than a useful one, in the sense that the answers to it might not necessarily be related to how can the author keep magic hidden in a setting mostly like the real world.
But yeah, the possibilities are VERY interesting! Imagine the magical equivalent of the atomic bomb and nuclear power plants, for instance!
“Another approach to creating an urban fantasy setting is to create a strong division between mundane world and magical one.”
It’s an interesting approach. Many stories, both traditional and modern, use that concept, even if not explicitly. It’s no wonder that the supernatural – fairies, witches, trolls and others – was found outside Home and Civilization, generally in the Woods or Foreign Lands.
“The downside here is that it downplays the connection between magic and the mundane.”
True! On the other hand, if the story is more focused on the characters than on the setting, that won’t be a problem.
Come to think of it, I have a feeling half of Neil Gaiman’s stories are like that. :-)
[Nasubabble stuff.]
Huh! I didn’t know all that. Are you sure the power of belief / the way mankind comprehends the Universe doesn’t affect magic (as opposed to True Magic / Sorcery) as well, though? I seem to recall that’s part of the reason why the Association’s magical paradigm is stronger than that of older forms of magic, like traditional shamanism.
And yeah, you gotta admire Nasu’s imagination. I think he gets stuck on nitpicks sometimes, but the man is good at worldbuilding.
“While one could question why the presence of magic (and not only magi but also various mythological creatures) isn’t felt more strongly,[…]”
Well, the Dead Apostle Ancestors are kept in check by Arcueid, presumably, and most other supernatural creatures either have their own predators (the Church, families like the Nanaya, etc.), or seem to want nothing to do with humanity (or literally can’t interact with humanity). It’s not a perfect explanation, but it can be used to handwave any issues away.
The most egregious one is the Church, though. In a world where the Catholic Church had that much power, too many historical events would have happened differently.
Actually, how magic evolved should be an important question, one that presents organic problems to the protagonist.
Let’s go with an easy example because it’s one I don’t have to research. Let’s say magic depends primarily on potions. You need the right intent or bloodline or whatever, but the critical issue is mixing the potion. So potions should have recipes.
If I go to a recipe book from the 18th century or earlier, there will be ingredients I cannot get, in quantities described as “a goodly amount” or “the size of an egg,” which are to be mixed together and heated in some manner not described because everybody who cooked regularly had it by knack, and it all depended on your specific set-up anyway.
As time moved on, instructions became more standardized and specific, so by the turn of the 20th century, recipes looked about as they do today. BUT ingredients changed massively over time — there are things I can’t get at all today, but there are also newly popular ingredients.
So… a Renaissance potion book should be substantially different from a Victorian one, which should be equally different from the one constructed by the protagonist’s great-grandmother in the 1920s. Using older recipes should be an exercise in confusion and experimentation. Potions less than 125 years old should go fine… until Protag discovers that a critical ingredient has changed properties (corn meal, of all things, is ground differently).
A curious wizard should be trying out new ingredients, as well as desperately substituting for unavailable old ones. Can a Westerner do Chinese potions adequately if there’s a good Chinese market nearby? Is it possible to do “fusion” potions from two traditions?
If there’s a decent-sized wizard community, there’d be nice domestic hedge-witches with their recipe cards and mimeographed bound recipe collections (at least, as late as the 1970s), and there’d be hardcore hipster wizards experimenting with smoking their own newts and heating potions in bain maries. There’d be violent debate about whether potions go together best with premium, fresh-from-the-garden organic ingredients or whether dried will do.
Disciplines — hobby or professional — don’t stand still. There’s always stuff going on that people are exploring or arguing over.
Huh, I hadn’t considered that. I stand corrected! :-)
Now I’m curious if any setting explicitly states that spellcasting has been refined over time. I mean, the Nasuverse does, but it also states that magic has been steadily growing weaker.
I can’t think of any off the top of my head, but I have feeling it does exist, but it won’t be one of the more mainstream settings.
Well, Nanoha kinda did it, though there also was an ancient civilization with super-artifacts still lying around because of course there is.
A fanfic called Game Theory (which I recommend – it does a great thing with conflict-building) explicitly states that yes, modern magic systems are flat-out superior to the old ones, the ancient civilization just had a lot more time and resources to build their miracles.
Oh, that’s a good match to a lot of subcultures. The only issue is that it does require magic be pretty low-impact overall for that the magic powerblock’s feelings on how to grind cornmeal and such to be irrelevant to major producers.
The evolution of magic is an important matter to ponder in general. Even if we are talking strictly about the concealment of magic in modern society, it could provide an answer.
Imagine a world where at the beginning magic was all about ephemeral things and subtle influences.
It was crucial at the hunting-gathering stage of civilization because asking spirits for a good hunt and best places to gather fruits was the only way to ensure you have enough food for a growing tribe.
With time, however, magic was eclipsed by mundane solutions. Sure, you can ask a shaman to scream at the spirits of illness to leave you alone. Or you could chew on that root for about the same effect. With an added bonus of not being subjected to the whims of fickle inhuman beings.
Magic slowly fell into obscurity, kept alive only by efforts of a few dedicated families with personal stakes in the matter (old oaths to fulfill, family legacy to keep alive, etc.).
The situation continued until a breakthrough of some kind was made in Europe during the Renaissance. And then suddenly fireballs.
During that time, however, witch hunts were in fashion, so it was just easier to keep magic hidden and use it from shadows to gain personal advantage rather than trying to go public and convince the church that you are not, in fact, in league with Satan.
A few mages who tried to do that were promptly killed without leaving too great of an impact, which just solidified the “yea, let’s not do this” policy for other mages.
By the modern era mages occupy prominent positions in society, basically ruling if not the world than some countries. Their influence can be seen behind many great events if you know what you are looking for.
Still they keep the secrecy because knowledge is power. And power shall be hoarded.
“On the other hand, if the story is more focused on the characters than on the setting, that won’t be a problem.”
It is not a problem in general, it’s a problem for urban fantasy specifically since a good part of the appeal is that magic is just around the corner and you could very well encountered it without realizing.
“Come to think of it, I have a feeling half of Neil Gaiman’s stories are like that.”
Gaiman typically goes for supernatural operating on unknown but clearly present rules. His style heavily relies on atmosphere and unspoken assumptions rather than rational reasoning. It’s clear that Odin from American Gods can’t just appear in full regalia, spear in hand and say “I am Odin. You are worshiping me now,” even if we don’t know the reason why.
It is a style where the willing suspension of disbelieve is achieved because people want to believe and because the situation feels right rather than because the author provides plausible reasons for the situation to be the way it is.
It’s a pretty hard thing to do, and it’s pretty subjective.
“Are you sure the power of belief / the way mankind comprehends the
Universe doesn’t affect magic (as opposed to True Magic / Sorcery) as
well, though?”
Well, I wouldn’t swear on it, but it does appear to be the case. Mankind’s comprehension of the Universe actually expands the magecraft at a cost of True Magic.
As for why the paradigm of the Association is stronger than traditional forms of magecraft, there are several reasons for it:
– Traditional practices are known. You can go to a bookstore and buy a book on shamanism techniques right now. Most of it would be bullshit or wouldn’t contain enough details to matter, but you’ll get a mystery or two out of it. Every time a new person does it, shamanism becomes less.
– The Association magi cooperate. They work together on big projects, they draw from a pool of shared knowledge, they can ask an expert in another field some relevant questions. Doing so does diminish the end results, and there could be a collateral if you really need to know the workings of a specific mystery for your research, but it’s still better than trying to do it alone.
– As far as I remember, the Magic Crest is their invention. I don’t need to tell how great of a boost it is.
“The most egregious one is the Church, though.”
Yes, the Church is the weak link in the triad of big organizations. It does, however, make a good segue into another approach to building urban fantasy: retroactive upgrade.
Basically, it’s when you explain that things that happened in history happened only because magic was involved. Germany wouldn’t be a big threat without demonic armies, Vatican wouldn’t become as influential as it was without their hidden mysteries, etc.
You’d need to do a lot of research to do it right, and there are many problems with thorny issues like colonization, but it is an interesting approach.
Hey, nice proto-setting there, illhousen! :-) It does, however, lead to a situation which might be an issue for some: once magic is refined to a certain level of power and finesse, mages can easily establish themselves as the ruling caste.
“It is not a problem in general, it’s a problem for urban fantasy
specifically since a good part of the appeal is that magic is just
around the corner and you could very well encountered it without
realizing.”
Indeed. Like I said in the article, if you’re going to downplay the inherent appeal of your story, have an excellent reason and do it really well!
[Neil Gaiman stuff.]
Quite true! He basically relies on the reader accepting the rules of narrative causality without even realizing it. It’s interesting to contrast his work with Pratchett’s, who makes those rules clear and then plays with them to his heart’s content.
[Retroactive upgrade.]
It is an interesting approach, but it might lead to magic being a lot more conspicuous than the author / GM wants. I mean, once you have Nazi Germany employing armies of zombies, cyborgs and hellhounds, the upper limits of magic were kind of kicked way up, right? :-)
Specifically in the Nasuverse, it’s hard to imagine the power struggles between the Pope and the Holy Roman Emperor would have happened in the same way with the Church having superpowered agents. You could handwave it by saying those agents considered themselves above temporal issues and refused to get involved, but it’s kind of hard to imagine every one of them doing so, without fail (or the Pope not having some kind of power over them which forced them to do so anyway).
Basically, the Church is one of the bits of worldbuilding which shows Nasu came up with his setting (at least initially) when he was in high school. :-P
“It does, however, lead to a situation which might be an issue for some:
once magic is refined to a certain level of power and finesse, mages
can easily establish themselves as the ruling caste.”
The idea here is that mages are already the ruling caste, it’s just nobody knows it but them.
To mundane eyes they appear as politicians, CEOs, unexpectedly influential consultants and simply filthy rich people.
They could go legit, sure, but there would be many variables to juggle and potential tensions to resolve. And why bother when they are already on top?
The story in such a setting would focus on high society maneuvering and shadowy assassinations, naturally.
“It is an interesting approach, but it might lead to magic being a lot
more conspicuous than the author / GM wants. I mean, once you have Nazi
Germany employing armies of zombies, cyborgs and hellhounds, the upper
limits of magic were kind of kicked way up, right?”
Hitler demonic armies are probably not the best example. I was thinking more “negotiations went surprisingly smoothly because one side used mind control” and “the enemy’s leader died just in the right time because of the curse”. Basically, look at historical events, locate ones which look a bit suspicious, add magic as an explanation.
And secret wars wedged in shadows, naturally, with various agents working on all sides.
As for Nasu, yes, he didn’t spare much explanation for the Church, especially compared to the Association.
“The idea here is that mages are already the ruling caste, it’s just nobody knows it but them.”
Oh, no, I got that! Sorry, “ruling caste” was a poor choice of words; “secret rulers” would have been much better.
It’s just that not every urban fantasy setting needs a secret conspiracy of supernatural creatures ruling the world. It really depends on what the story needs.
“Basically, look at historical events, locate ones which look a bit suspicious, add magic as an explanation.”
That shouldn’t be too hard; History is full of these fortuitous (or not so fortuitous, depending on your point of view) coincidences. But it does lead to the same issue, where the tendency is to have mages as a secret ruling caste, and if the author / GM doesn’t want that, he needs to explain why things aren’t like that. Hm… Possibly all mages are restricted by a supernaturally-enforced code of coduct from acquiring power for themselves?
I forgot to mention: the retroactive method does have a flaw with explaining why mages hide in the first place – they are deeply integrated into the society in such a scenario, after all.
The “can’t use magic for personal gain” is an old idea, yes, but mages then would be genuinely selfless people doing the good thing. Exactly the right type of person to risk persecution from the church or the government by exposing themselves for a chance of gaining support. It’s much easier to help people when you have the backing of the police/doctors/leaders/other relevant people.
What if, by exposing themselves, they risk losing their power – the very thing which lets them help others? Although care should be taken so it doesn’t come off as an arbitrary, “because the plot says so!” limiting factor. Perhaps magic takes its power from the mysterious, the unknown, and once it’s revealed, it immediately weakens for ALL magic-users (which would also serve as an incentive for magicians to police themselves)?
That’s kinda what Nasuverse does with magi, and yes, it’s workable.
Another approach can be found in Mage: the Ascension and Mage: the Awakening where the universe actively doesn’t like magic and punishes you when you attempt to do something blatant with it. Mundane witnesses increase either the chance of it happening or the severity of effects.
Yet another approach presented in a web-novel Pact by Wildbow where ignorance (or innocence) actively protects you from the worst of the supernatural world. Goblins can still ruin your day, but they can’t just walk to you and slice your throat if you don’t know they exist.
Mages also become responsible for people they broke in and take a hit to power should anything happen to those people.
“Yet another approach presented in a web-novel Pact by Wildbow where
ignorance (or innocence) actively protects you from the worst of the
supernatural world.”
Very interesting! Sounds similar to the Vertigo approach I described in the essay. I wonder if “Pact by Wildbow”‘s author is a fan of those works, or if they had similar ideas independently?
Well, Wildbow is a fan of superhero comics, at least. Worm, which was reviewed on this blog, was written by him.
So I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s familiar with the approach.
Oh, Wildbow is the name of the author? My bad. :-)
Possibly all mages are restricted by a supernaturally-enforced code of coduct from acquiring power for themselves?
You don’t need that exactly. You just need to be unable to work magic on yourself, so your best path to power is to buff allies. Now you’re dependent on others.
Interestingly enough, Marvel seems to take that approach, for the most part; Dr. Strange can’t just use his magic to become stronger than the Hulk, for example. There are a few exceptions, like Selene (an X-Men villain), but they can be ascribed to other factors (Selene also has mutant powers in addition to her sorcerous knowledge, for example)
But magicians just being unable to buff themselves doesn’t cover a whole lot of things that can still be done if they want to acquire socio-economic power (covertly or overtly): mind control, killing curses, etc.
The cursing can be balanced if it takes time. It’d play out much like actual witch hunts – something bad happens, so they cast about for who’s doing it with the intent of killing the witch before they can cast another evil spell. So if you go with the curses thing, you have to be really subtle. Your only way of improving your own survivablility is to have trusted allies you can buff into invincibility standing between you and the mob, but those allies can smash you apart just as easily if you don’t keep them happy.
True, although killing curses (even if it takes time) would still be hella powerful assassination tools; and depending on how they take shape (or at least how good magicians are at hiding), they can still be very subtle.
In the end, I think it all comes down to what exactly magic can accomplish in the setting. Everything else should be derived from that.
Oh, you can still fuck stuff up for the mundanes, but you can never do it in a way that gets traced to you or risk an angry mob, so we have a reason why we don’t have obvious wizard overlords.
I was thinking more “negotiations went surprisingly smoothly because one side used mind control” and “the enemy’s leader died just in the right time because of the curse”. Basically, look at historical events, locate ones which look a bit suspicious, add magic as an explanation.
The only problem with this approach is it requires either magic use be relatively spread out and operating at cross purposes, with no organized power block of its own, or an explanation for how all those things were things the magic users wanted.
Specifically in the Nasuverse, it’s hard to imagine the power struggles between the Pope and the Holy Roman Emperor would have happened in the same way with the Church having superpowered agents. You could handwave it by saying those agents considered themselves above temporal issues and refused to get involved, but it’s kind of hard to imagine every one of them doing so, without fail (or the Pope not having some kind of power over them which forced them to do so anyway).
Actually, it works fine the other way around – the actual church’s power was often limited by power plays within the church, to the point there’s even been a few times when multiple popes were elected and fighting over which one of them was real. Any time the church lost a conflict, just assume too many of their agents decided they were, in fact, very invested in temporal issues and just weren’t in line with the pope on the matter.
Hm! I like that because it sounds chaotic and messy, just like real History. :-D Yeah, a combination of both could work, indeed.
The situation continued until a breakthrough of some kind was made in Europe during the Renaissance. And then suddenly fireballs.
That sounds excellent!
Imagine a story with focus not on ancient artifacts of imaginable power but on new such artifacts which power is unimaginable because nothing like that had existed before.
More steampunky styles actually do this! They’re sadly rare, but there are a couple fantasy stories about how a new invention is about to change things.
Working together allows magi to achieve greater results, but doing so also lessens those results compared to what they could have been.
The only problem with this is the obvious solution is murder, and we’re told they’re immoral assholes so I don’t know why they haven’t taken things to their logical conclusion. The number of magi seems in line with the magic crest limitation but not the idea that they’ll actually benefit by assassinating other lines.
The dilution effect is irreversible: once someone learned the inner workings of a mystery, killing them won’t make it stronger. So killing magi after the fact is useless.
As for killing magi before the fact, magecraft is complex. It takes generations to unravel mysteries in one field to the point where they would have any practical application. Killing magi and leaving only a few means magic won’t really advance, and the soul density will cause it to actively degrade.
It doesn’t help that magi are at war with vampires and at cold war with the Church.
Despite that assassinations are not exactly uncommon, to the point where ‘magi killer’ is a viable career path.
The dilution effect is irreversible: once someone learned the inner workings of a mystery, killing them won’t make it stronger. So killing magi after the fact is useless.
Ah, that’s a clever way of keeping the setting stable.