Charging Wands, Staves, and Rods	Creature Catalog III	Kender	Balancing Encounters	-
-	-	-	-	Dragon

For king and country
An alignment system based on cause and effect
by Paul Suttie

Alignment has always been important in
the making and playing of an AD&D® game
character. Supposedly, by electing to be
LG, chaotic neutral, or whatever, a
character chooses a broad set of morals
which will guide his behavior in the game.
Unfortunately, it is not nearly so simple. It
has become obvious in the recent storm of
letters to the Forum that alignment is no
longer serving its primary purposes, those
being to rationalize each individual?s behavior
and to prevent players from breaking
character in order to unfairly exploit game
situations. Instead of answering moral
dilemmas, alignment is creating them.
Instead of preventing characters from taking
liberties with the game, it encourages
abuse or puts the player?s own better judgment
in chains. What has gone wrong?
Good and evil were introduced into the
game at a time when the whole concept of
role-playing was much simpler than it is
now. A typical campaign used to involve a
dungeon full of horrible monsters and traps,
and a nearby castle or town where supplies
and rumors were readily available for those
with the gold to buy them. Even players
with cleric characters did not usually know
the name or nature of the god they worshiped;
they knew only that through prayer
their PCs could obtain various spells to aid
the party. The motivations of kings and
churches were unimportant, unless they
were offering bounties for the heads of
particular monsters. War and politics were
unknown; adventuring in dungeons was the
major activity of the strong and bold, and
all else revolved around adventuring. Needless
to say, a character in such a campaign
needed a reason to be making his living at
killing things and taking their riches, or else
adventuring would have begun to seem
rather immoral.

Alignment provided what was needed. A
character could kill something with a clean
conscience if he knew that it was evil and
thus ready to wreak whatever havoc it possibly
could on society until it was destroyed.
A character whose job it was to destroy evil
was quite obviously good, for he was the
guardian of society. Alignment had another
benefit too; in the absence of actual laws
and religious beliefs, it was nevertheless
possible to tell a character when he was
getting out of line. For instance, even
though a certain merchant might have been
a defenseless old man, and killing him
might have been the cheapest way to get
supplies from his shop, the players could
not exploit the campaign in that way be-

cause their characters had morals to uphold.
Killing the old man would have been a
breach of good alignment.
So far, so good. At the most basic level of
play, alignment is an indispensable part of
the game. But this is not the only level of
play. As they become comfortable with the
idea of running characters, players begin to
look deeper than the sort of clear-cut situations
I described above; they want to know
how PCs feel about other things, like poisoning
their enemies or killing the monsters
? young, and they want to know what
the morals are that make the characters feel
that way.

The first signs of the problem began to
appear as soon as it became necessary to
define the various alignments. Perhaps
knowing that a comprehensive list of ?do?s
and don?ts? would destroy the spontaneity
of play and inevitably miss situations that
might arise, the game creators opted instead.
to give players a definition of the general
outlooks which would guide their characters
? thoughts and actions. But how to
define good and evil?
In the real world, good and evil are invented
concepts. Societies label their own
values as good, and those of the enemy (or
the threatening or the unknown) as evil. In
the simple campaign described above, this
would not do; a character who makes his
living by killing things wants to know that
the enemy is truly evil, not just a perceived
evil. So realism had to be abandoned.
Alignment was approached in the same way
that magic was handled; that is to say, as a
thing common in literature and unknown in
the real world. Each and every intelligent
being would be motivated by some absolute
cause which would be perceived by all as
the same thing. Thus, a paladin not only
would believe himself to be good, but would
be seen as good even by his enemies.
Once it is decided that there is a definite
thing called ?good,? it is reasonable to try
to define it in absolute terms. This is the
stumbling block. How does one define
concepts that in the real world have no
absolute meaning? There is no way to do it
except to choose a particular value system
and declare that it applies universally to the
gaming universe.
The system that was chosen comes
straight from the perceptions of the creators,
and thus straight from twentiethcentury
America. While ?life, relative
freedom, and the prospect of happiness?
might satisfy the typical modern gamer as
being part of the framework of good, they

would not satisfy most of the societies in a
game universe. In fact, there is no system
that could conceivably satisfy all the creatures
in a gaming universe, because it is the
differences in their views that put them at
odds in the first place. No one has ever
decided that certain values are good, and
then chosen to oppose them and be consciously
evil, and there is no possible reason
why any sane person ever would, even if he
is just a character in a game.
Absolute alignment is inevitably defined
from one society?s perspective, and thus
makes no sense for any of the others that coexist
with it. In actual fact, the alignment
system which is spelled out in the AD&D
game rules applies to a society which is not
even a part of the game, and so upon examination,
every character naturally finds
himself incompatible with his professed
ethos. Alignment makes sense in a simple
game. But AD&D games today often operate
on a level so sophisticated that the
worlds we create give rise to inhabitants no
less realistic, events no less consistent, than
those in our own world. Yet these characters
whom we seem to know as well as we know
ourselves must still choose an absolute
alignment, a label which upon examination
is rife with contradictions.
No wonder characters who take on evil
personae find themselves appalled by their
own behavior. So would anyone who set out
to be the opposite of what they knew was
right and good. Even the most ?evil? villains
of history did not have the sort of
attitude that an assassin character is expected
to have ? that is to say, that woe
and suffering are desirable ends in and of
themselves.
No wonder the typical paladin hypocritically
preaches respect for all life, while a
value system he would more realistically
possess, that of religious intolerance, determines
his actions. Subconsciously, if not
consciously, we know that a paladin is not
good in the sense of the definition we have
been given. But when a dilemma arises, we
make the fair mistake of turning to the rules
for an answer, and find in retrospect that
most of what our character does is wrong
according to this supposedly absolute definition
of good. So where should we turn? To a
new set of guidelines, invented with the
paladins of the Middle Ages in mind? Unfortunately,
this would not solve the problem,
because it would still be based on a
system of universal perceptions, where each
character ?knows? what good is, but some
choose to turn their backs on it. A system

invented for the paladin would fall apart
when applied to his enemies.
For an alternative, consider this: In many
gaming groups, the campaigns have outgrown
one facet of their origins. The characters
they play do what they do because
they are loyal to a king or a god whose
nature and beliefs are known to them, or
because their land is in danger, or because
the PCs are ambitious, kind, or greedy. To
have to place their beliefs into narrow and
absolute slots only restricts their roleplaying.
By removing the current concepts
of good and evil from the campaigns, these
groups would enhance, rather than cripple,
their gaming. But it is a change not to be
taken lightly. The alternative to a rigid
system of alignments involves a lot of work
for the Dungeon Master.
If good and evil are not to be taken for
granted, there must be another way for
characters to choose and adhere to a system
of beliefs. If there were not one readily
available, the task at hand would be too
enormous to even contemplate. But there is.
Characters no longer worship intangible
forces whose only purpose is to grant spells,
and they no longer serve kings whose only
purpose is to provide bounties and ransoms.
The Legends & Lore book, various articles
in DRAGON® Magazine, and the
imagination of the DM can all provide gods
who expect their followers to behave in a
certain way. Kings and other people in
positions of power also will expect certain
behavior from their subjects ? sometimes
because of their own religious beliefs, and
sometimes to promote their own selfish
ends. The list of logical motivations that a
character can have goes beyond that. He
need not be pious or loyal to find a slot in
this less absolute system, for he may well
have selfish ends of his own.
In creating a campaign in which alignment
will be subjective, a referee must plan
certain aspects of play much more carefully
before characters may enter his world. He
must consider religion ? which gods exist
in his campaign, and which races and societies
worship which gods? He must consider
the rulers of the various states, decide which
gods, if any, they worship, and what other
considerations will affect the way they rule.
Does the character?s king have fears of
being invaded, or does he have conquests of
his own in mind? Does he worry about
revolution, or does he find no greater pleasure
in life than to see contented, well-fed
peasants? All these considerations will affect
what he expects from his subjects, and what
their level of loyalty to him will be.
Now the player may create his character.
Instead of simply writing down a two-word
definition of his PC?s beliefs, he must first
find out from the DM which gods the PC
may choose to worship, and should select
one which is compatible with the character
he desires to play. For instance, a paladin
should choose the official religion of the
state, whereas a thief might choose a subversive
cult whose patron is a god of stealth
or trickery. Or, upon consideration, he may

decide to be completely impious; while the
edicts of a god will certainly decide much of
a character?s morality, they are not by any
means the only considerations.
Next, he should query the DM about the
nature of the local ruler, and whether the
campaign demands a certain degree of
loyalty or disloyalty to this ruler. Again,
there is no need for a character to follow
any king?s principles; he may opt to be
completely independent of both church and
state. But this does not allow him to be
directionless. Once he has adopted as many
morals as he wishes to glean from the PC?s
religion and society, he must fill out his
character with whatever values and principles
he will consider important in gaming.
In all of this, the PC need never decide to
be good or evil, lawful or chaotic. He will
decide whether he is pacifistic or pugilistic,
whether he craves or shuns material goods,
whether he has a hot temper or a slow fuse,
whether he is merciful or vengeful, or whatever
else he thinks is important in understanding
his character. (Sometimes these
will be determined in part by the character?s
class, especially in the case of assassins and
cavaliers, whose moral code is partially
spelled out in the class descriptions.) Unlike
a traditional alignment, these guidelines
need not be all saintly or all deplorable; a
mix is entirely possible, and will result in
far more interesting and viable characters.
A character need no longer be denied honesty
and trustworthiness simply because he
wishes to be materialistic and consider the
slightest provocation an invitation to light.
Also, unlike the standard alignmental code,
additions and changes can be made to the
list whenever the player discovers the list to
be incomplete in some way, or if some value
turns out to be incompatible with the other
ones.
This is not to say that this list may be
altered at the player?s whim to suit the
situation, for then other considerations will
crop up. Has a character abandoned a value
held dear by his god? If so, then all the
regular penalties of alignmental shift will
stem from the god?s wrath. Will the character
?s new tendencies put him at odds with
the law? If so, he risks imprisonment or
worse. Maybe he is neither pious nor important
to the king, but if he acts radically
different from how he did before, or
changes faces too regularly, he will certainly
alienate himself from those he knows. In
any case, he will probably discover that
maintaining the PC?s values is a smart thing
to do, and will certainly discover that there
is more enjoyment in playing a consistent
persona.
Once alignment becomes a personal and
tangible set of values instead of a rigid slot,
characters are free to act as they truly
should, in their capacity as servants to a
king or a god, or in their desire to build an
empire, gain a fortune, or free an enslaved
people. Cause and effect are a character?s
motivation. If a being acts in the interests of
a character or his superiors, it is a good
being. If it opposes those interests, it is a

bad being. Consider these following examples
of characters in a cause-and-effect
world.
A paladin, a member of one class considered
inseparable from alignment, could be
played just as effectively as a stalwart believer
in the official religion of the state as in
the empirical concept of lawful good. He
will still be expected to limit his material
wealth, to fight tirelessly in the name of his
god and his king, and to heal the faithful
selflessly. If he does not, he will suffer the
consequences of alignmental deviation, for
his god will not tolerate such behavior. And
faith still has its rewards; although there is
no such thing as evil in an absolute sense,
the state will certainly have religious enemies
which it will consider evil. Against
these beings, the paladin will have full use
of his special abilities; he will be able to
detect their presence, ward himself magically
against them during battle with protection
from evil, and should he have a holy
sword, wreak havoc upon them as he can do
to no others.
This paladin could be a knight on a crusade
to rid the holy land of the infidel. On
the other hand, he could be an Arabian
knight, defending the holy land from the
infidel. It is possible, in other words, for
paladins to fight one another, inflict damage
on one another with their holy swords, and
gain bonuses in their saving throws against
one another?s spells. The long-debated
question of whether there should be an antipaladin
class is quickly resolved; there is no
need for such a class when paladins can
logically oppose one another in any case. To
each paladin, the other would seem to be an
anti-paladin, a fanatical pagan intent on the
desecration of all that is right and pure.
Let?s consider another class which is often
considered the epitome of a particular alignment:
the assassin. It may be hard to accept
at first, but a ruthless killer who makes his
living through deadly subterfuge can survive
without a belief in woe for all. Merely
consider his job description in comparison
to that of a typical fighter, and the need for
an assassin to be evil begins to slip away.
Who has not played a purportedly good
fighter whose sole occupation is to kill
things that oppose his ethos? True, an assassin
does his work in the midst of society, not
in a dungeon, but this does not require him
to be contemptuous of life. His motives may
be similar to those that
into crime ? a chance
lure many people
to make it big, a
desire for vengeance, a discontentment with
the establishment, desperation to feed a
hungry family, or loyalty to a foreign king.
The fact that he often does not align himself
with a god or king does not make him immune
to retribution or punishment, for he
is still a criminal and a murderer, subject to
grievous punishment if captured by the
authorities or by his intended victim. Not
only is the assassin playable without the evil
label, he is virtually unplayable as a campaign
character until alignment is restructured.
A human being with motives
desires, and purposes can remain interest-

ing through many adventures. A bloodthirsty
killer quickly becomes intolerable.
I have referred repeatedly to the morals
which state rulers and gods impress upon
the character. It is reasonably easy to see
that a king would wish to instill certain
beliefs upon the populace. If war was a
constant threat, then a strictly pacifistic
social value system would lead to the quick
downfall of the state. If the official religion
of the state relied on human sacrifice, then a
general belief in the sanctity of life would be
a real problem. But what about the gods? In
the absence of rigid alignments, what possible
reason could they have for demanding
their followers to maintain certain sets of
values, convert pagans to the ?true? beliefs,
and oppose other religious sects violently?
Has the whole question of alignment not
simply been shunted back one step to the
level of the deities?
It need not be so. Consider the recent
works on clerics in DRAGON® issue #92,
specifically with regard to the reasons why
clerics must spread the faith. The power of
any deity is proportional to the number of
devout followers it has. This is a concept
which should be reinforced under the new
system of alignment. The power of gods
should actually be made to vary with the
power of their followers to the extent that
they would die if all their followers were
slain or converted to other faiths. As an
example, suppose the members of a Greek
society were to overrun a Babylonian nation
and convert the survivors to their own faith.
Many of the Greek lesser gods might actually
be elevated to greater god status, and
the Babylonian pantheon would be relegated
to demigods if not slain. In this way,
pantheons may grow, prosper, and fade
away, just as has actually happened
throughout history. It may even be that
gods are created originally by the existence
of worshipers. If a large number of thieves,
discontent with the state religion, begin to
secretly worship a god of stealth and trickery,
such a god is created. Thus, there are
gods to fit every intelligent being?s needs.
This answers many questions. First, a
particular god has particular values because
its worshipers created it with those values in
mind. Following the example of the thieves
above, asking why a god should treasure
stealth is meaningless. Second, a god requires
its worshipers to be devout and gain
more followers, because if its homage fades
away, so in turn does the god itself. Not all
gods need to encourage war and conquest to
increase their power, but they all must have
some method of maintaining old followers
and gaining new ones if they are to survive.
One of the biggest bonuses for a cleric of a
particular religion is that if he converts
enough pagans to the true faith, he may
actually help to make his demigod or lesser
god become a greater deity. As Legends &
Lore makes clear, this will give him otherwise
forbidden access to sixth-level and
seventh-level cleric spells. Conversely, if he
allows the devoted followers of a greater god
to slip away from the faith, he may cripple

his god and so lose access to the same spells.
Another aspect of religion which must
dealt with is the traditional arrangement
the outer planes. Here again, the task of
be
of
restructuring the game without the pigeonholes
of alignment may seem formidable,
but here again the work has already been
done for you. In fact, you may agree on
examination of the current system that the
arrangement of the outer planes has hampered
the campaign of today as much as the
concepts
have.
of absolute good and absolute evil
The structure of the outer planes, as
presented in the Players Handbook and in
Legends & Lore, was created before there
was material available describing the various
pantheons of gods from our own mythologies.
In a sense, the planes took the
place of a well-developed theology for the
game. If one knows that the lawful good
gods, whomever they might be, live in the
Seven Heavens, and that devout followers
of the ?lawful good faith? can expect to go
there after death, then one is not required
the massive expenditure of time and effort
that it would take to develop a real mythology.
But the game has expanded enormously
in that direction in the last few
years. It is now possible to know the exact
nature of one?s religion and one?s gods.
There are guidelines for worship, for divine
intervention, even for adventuring in the
homelands of the gods. This detail brings
with it a new problem. In much the same
way that the characters of the contemporary
campaign have outgrown pigeonhole alignment,
so have their gods.
Legends & Lore describes the various
pantheons of gods as they existed in mythology
? that is to say, as separate hierarchies
which do not interact with one another.
Each religion had its own homeland for the
gods, and many of these homelands have
been described in Legends & Lore or in
recent issues of DRAGON Magazine.
Those which have not already been described
in AD&D game terms can easily be
converted for game play from the wealth of
material available on the topic at any library.
With all this material at hand, it
seems criminal that we retain the traditional
structure of the outer planes, in which the
most fantastic creations of legend, the
homes of the gods, must be abandoned or at
least restructured.
There is an alternative, and the development
of Gladsheim as a home for the Norse
gods and the Norse gods alone (as presented
in both Legends & Lore and DRAGON
issue #90) steers us in the right
(To be fair to the author of the
direction.
article on
Gladsheim, I must note that a place was
reserved there for gods of other mythos, but
this place was considered separate from that
of the Norse gods, and so the statement that
there was a home described for the Norse
gods and the Norse gods alone remains
true.) For the first time, we have a viable
home for gods, a place which we can envision
graphically ? a place where PCs can
adventure. Why not give every pantheon a

plane of its own, with its own places of
glory, its own battlefields, its own blights of
evil? True, if this were done, virtually none
of the gods would end up living in the plane
of their professed alignment, and characters
who died would go to the plane of their
mythos rather than their alignment, but I
say wholeheartedly that this is how it should
be. The gods should not live in ill-defined
places, boarded with gods they have no
right to know, just because alignment dictates
it. They should be with their kin, in
places that mythology describes to us, where
they can reenact the myths which are central
to their being.
Once this is done, there is no purpose to
arranging the outer planes in a nowmeaningless
rectangle. Each plane would be,
an island in astral space, with its own
shape, connected to the Prime Material
Plane in whatever ways mythology dictates.
A fine example is the great tree Yggdrasil,
which was described as such an independent
structure for the home of the Norse
pantheon in issue #90. This vision was
made compatible with the old outer plane
arrangement, but it stands far better on its
own, without the fetters of alignment.
It is important not to neglect the fact that
some DMs prefer to create their own mythos,
or mix and match from existing ones.
But, it is better to pick and choose with the
goal of having a god to represent each
group or attribute known to humans, rather
than one to represent each alignment, and
so to fill the spaces available in the outer
planes.
One distinct difficulty with fragmenting
the outer planes into their individual mythologies
is that some planes would seem to
have no place to go. For instance, to what
religion do the Nine Hells belong? It has
been stated that devils have no worshipers
among humans, so how and where can they
survive?
Many campaigns are basically Anglo-
Saxon, and the Anglo-Saxon religion of the
Middle Ages did have a hell something like
the one described in the Monster Manual.
There is no reason why such a religion
cannot exist in the AD&D game. What I
am not suggesting is the introduction of
modern Christianity into the game; that
would be as confusing as the introduction of
twentieth-century morality. What I am
suggesting is that the religion of the Middle
Ages was as different from ours in outlook
as any of the religions presented in Legends
& Lore, and that a religion resembling
medieval Christianity is the single most
logical religion for characters in an Anglo-
Saxon campaign to follow. In fact, we have
been subconsciously using such a religion
for years. Our intolerant clerics with holy
water sprinklers, and our paladins with holy
missions against the infidel, are drawn
straight from Anglo-Saxon mythology. Why
not make the religion a real part of the
game, and give the devils a reason to be out
there?
The devils fit nicely into the Anglo-Saxon
mythos. For the faithful of this religion,

there is an eternal afterlife in paradise. For
the sinners, there is eternal torment in the
lands of the archdevils. The existence of the
devils without worship can be easily explained;
they draw their power from the
sins of those supposedly faithful to the religion.
That is why they go to great length to
win souls over to them. It is by luring the
upright into sin that devils gain and maintain
their power.
When all is said and done, the Nine Hells
are more consistent without rigid alignment
in the outer planes than with it, because the
devils no longer need to find places for the
evil gods who were previously expected to
co-exist with them. Set and the rest of the
bad gods can join their pantheons on other
planes.
As for the demons of the Abyss, they do
seem to have their worshipers, but not
among humankind. Demogorgon has the
ixitxachitl, Lolth the drow elves, and
Yeenoghu the gnolls. Presumably Orcus
receives homage from the intelligent undead,
and Juiblex from the slimes, jellies,
puddings, and other faceless beings. The
common trait of these races is that they are
all dire and irrational enemies of all mankind,
so it is natural that they have created
gods through their worship which oppose
man with relentless fury. Of course, the
minions these gods have chosen to create
are similarly irrational and dangerous
among men. It is because many men try to
control these beings for their own ends, and
many fail, that many souls end up in the
Abyss as manes, having been cheated of
their promised afterlife. This is arguably the
worst fate possible ? to be cast among the
gods of mankind?s most heartfelt foes for
eternity.
As for the rest of the lower planes, they
will disappear nicely once each religion in a
campaign steals its own little piece of hell
for its own sinners. These planes never had
much life in the first place, and their inhabitants
will be happy to be relocated. (Nycadaemons,
it is known, will work for just
about anybody, as long as they get to be
nasty to the lodgers.)
This, then, is my thesis. In a welldeveloped
campaign setting, there is no
need for absolute alignment. At all levels of
play, thought and action will be more logical
and the setting more viable if alignment is a
statement of specific morals and beliefs,
formed by the influence of king and country,
and by the character?s own experience
in life. Having said this, it remains to demonstrate
that this system will work, and
work better than the old one. For that reason,
I will now describe a campaign which I
designed, and show how my original nightmares
faded once alignment was diversified,
to be replaced by an exciting and vibrant
campaign milieu.
Originally, I envisioned an Arthurian
setting in a mythical counterpart to England.
The inhabitants of the land were to
include the following. There would be
Anglo-Saxons, ruled by the king and a
feudal system of dukes, barons, and

knights. Many members of the court would
be paladins and cavaliers. The Anglo-
Saxons were to co-exist with the high elves.
A second group was to be the Celts, ruled
by the druids. The elite fighters of this
society would be trained by the druids to
become attuned to the natural world, and so
would become rangers. The wood elves,
who have shared the forest with the Celts
for centuries, are their staunch allies. In the
north would be the Scots, divided into
various clans, and sharing their land with
various dwarven and orcish bands. Along
the coasts would be the ever-present threat
of Norse Vikings, who make their living by
plundering seaside towns. Across the channel,
of course, would reside the dangerous
French.
In the traditional scheme of things, the
knights of Camelot would be branded lawful
good from the outset, because of their heavy
complement of paladins, one of whom is the
king himself (as described in the Legends &
Lore Arthurian Heroes section). But the
French have a similar court, also laden with
cavaliers and paladins. It may be possible
for aggression to take place between the two
courts, but it could not be the focal point of
the campaign it was designed to be. When
lawful good fights lawful good (a tenuous
proposition from the start), they must certainly
unite to drive off evil if it should enter
the picture. Evil was going to enter the
picture, but I didn?t want that to lessen the
antipathy between England and France one

iota. But there was nothing to do; an obvious
political hotspot was practically dead
before it had been born.
How about the wood elves, the rangers,
and the druids? Their society, which once
owned all of England, has been overrun by
the Anglo-Saxons. But can they retake the
land through violence? The fact that their
fighters and rangers share an alignment
with the potential foe makes the whole thing
a risky proposition. The rangers and elves,
both good in outlook, would more likely
side with the knights than with the druids of
their own society if it came to blows. But it
shouldn?t happen that way! Celts should be
a strong resistance movement with no
strings attached, but it was not to be.
The dwarves in the north are lawful
good, just like the knights of the court. If
Arthur pushes north into Scotland, they will
almost certainly ally themselves with him to
bring law and unity to the land . . . even
though this will destroy their traditional
way of life. Then there are the Vikings, a
real headache for Arthur because in the
absence of an Anglo-Saxon religion, the
most logical mythology for the court to
adopt was that of a harsh land, with many
gods who are lawful and good. You guessed
it. . . the official religion of England was to
be Norse. If attacking the French was iffy,
then attacking the Vikings, worshipers of
the same gods, was quite simply asking for
it. Come to think of it, that works both
ways ? maybe the Vikings will have to look

elsewhere for plunder. There goes another
source of action.
Finally, of course, there are the orcs. Orcs
are evil, and evil is evil no matter how you
look at it. There is no need to even justify
killing them. Good thing, too, because at
this point it was beginning to look like
fighting them was going to be the only
activity for the characters in this static and
morally confounding campaign.
What happened? For a moment, this
looked like a plausible campaign. But with
everyone so neatly pigeonholed into absolute
alignments, there was no place to take
it. I could have rearranged things, to be
sure. I could have postulated a French court
without a single paladin, where everyone
was a neutral fighter or a lawful neutral
cavalier. I could have envisioned a Celtic
society where the druids ruled over ordinary
fighters instead of rangers. I could have
advanced the extremely unlikely proposition
that the Vikings all worshiped the evil god
Loki and so were at odds with the court
after all. But before making those changes I
asked myself why I should have to. Why
couldn?t I make it run the way I wanted it
to run, without altering the whole structure
of my world?
Instead, I changed the alignment system,
removing the concepts of absolute good and
evil, to reconcile the whole campaign with
common sense. This is what I achieved.
The court of King Arthur is benevolent
to its people, but the knights are lethally
intolerant of pagan religions. Spurred on by
their king and their Anglo-Saxon god, they
will fight for the unification of Britain with
the righteous fury that paladins have been
shying away from all these years.
The major threat to the court is the subversive
society of druids, who still practice
the outlawed Celtic religion, along with its
allies, the wood elves and the rangers. The
possibility is not only open for paladins to
fight rangers to the death, but to receive
their protection from evil bonuses when
doing so, because evil is now defined in
terms of religious enemies. No other criterion
need be met.
Interestingly, Arthur?s friend and advisor,
Merlin, is tied closely to the old religion,
but Arthur can ignore this fault because he
is not lawful good anymore. He is, as I
detailed him, courageous, trustworthy,
chivalrous, and charismatic, but like many
of the medieval Anglo-Saxon faith, he is
also somewhat hypocritical in matters of
religion. In the same way that the Norse
gods allow their worshipers to take their
gods? names in vain, deface their gods?
images, and break their sacred oaths (provided
they show bravery in battle), my
Anglo-Saxon god allows his followers to be
somewhat less than the ideals they make
themselves out to be, provided that they
campaign with relentless vigor to expand
the empire and convert pagans to the true
faith. It?s an example of the different strategies
that different gods will employ to maintain
power. While some gods rely on a small
body of absolutely devout followers,
 

Arthur?s god relies on having an enormous
and ever-expanding number of followers,
many of whom may be imperfect in their
faith. That?s why the devils of the Anglo-
Saxon religion take such a prominent role
compared to those in other religions. In
Arthur?s empire, the sinners outnumber the
saints.
But back to the frontiers. The French are
strong and hostile; maybe a war now on
French territory would save a war later on
English soil. Of course, the French are
political, rather than religious, enemies, so
in confrontations between them neither side
would be able to use spells which are effective
only against evil. There is now an
important distinction between a political
war, such as English versus French, and a
religious one, such Anglo-Saxons versus
Celts.
The Norsemen are still causing trouble
on the coast, but now the Vikings are about
as evil in the eyes of the English as anyone
could get, having no Anglo-Saxon morals at
all. Driving them away would be a holy
quest for any knight.
In the north, Arthur is looking for allies
in a potential conquest of Scotland. One of
the Scottish clans, envisioning dominion
over the others, is with him. Since he is an
honorable man, Arthur is indeed planning
to give them a favored position in the new
order of things if the war is won, provided
they will embrace his religion. But he needs
more allies among the natives, and he cannot
afford to promise anyone else a share of
the spoils lest the victory accomplish no real
unification at all. His choices are the
dwarves and the orcs, but which should he
approach? Well, dwarves are still dwarves.
They are tough fighters, but full of pride,
and will want to defend their way of life. He
decides to make non-aggression pacts with
several of the more powerful dwarven leaders,
knowing that both sides will benefit
from the deal. The dwarves will keep their
mines, and he will keep the lives of the
armies he would have lost if the dwarves felt
threatened. But he still needs a body of
mercenaries to fight in Scotland. The otherwise
unthinkable possibility of approaching
the orcs becomes very real now that alignment
is not a concern. Orcs are still
boorish, warlike creatures with crude lifestyles
and morals that would offend even
the Vikings. But they are also stupid and
greedy, and Arthur knows he need offer
them nothing but money and they will fight
whomever he pits them against. After all,
they fight all the time anyway, with not even
money at stake.
Once the conquest of Scotland is complete,
Arthur has no further duty to the
beasts. The orcish religion is now a pagan
faith in the lands of the king, and as such is
outlawed. The orcs can convert to the religion
of the court, flee from Britain, or face
their just end. If they had been smarter,
they could have seen that they would have
no place in a unified Britain, but they
weren?t smarter, and so they willingly captured
their own homeland for pay.
 

All in all, then, the abolition of alignment
made the campaign setting come to life.
Player characters can now fit into the
scheme of things in just about any role they
please. Think of these possibilities:
A paladin on a quest from Arthur to
destroy a druidic shrine.
A ranger who defends druidic shrines
against attacks by the knights of Camelot,
using her stealth and woodsman skills to
survive in the dangerous forests.
A French assassin on a mission to kill
Arthur?s senior military advisor before he
can present his plans to the king to take
over France. (As an added bonus, he could
bring back a copy of the plan.)
A wood elf who uses his thieving skills to
become a highwayman, disrupting traffic in
and out of the capital.
A dwarven fighter whose ambition leads
him to the court of England, where he must
overcome prejudice and undertake grueling
quests to join the ranks of the knights.
A half-elf, the illegitimate daughter of a
duke, outcast and maligned from youth,
now ready to seek vengeance against the
court in whatever way she can.
A cavalier who questions the morality of
destroying the Celts, the original owners of
this land, and so joins with the enemy and
becomes England?s most wanted knave.
A magic-user, a member of the rarest
class, seeking a mentor who can teach him
the powerful secrets of sorcery. What can he
do to convince Merlin that he is a worthy
student? What will be the price of his studies?
What will he do with the knowledge he
gains?
A cleric of the Roman gods, part of a
secret cult that has survived since the days
that Julius Caesar ruled this land. What
does she stand for? How does she fit into
this cause and effect campaign world?
Once the shackles of alignment are broken,
the gaming possibilities are endless. All
of these figures are important player and
non-player characters in my own campaign.
They interact with one another in some of
the most unexpected ways, befriending
those that alignment would dictate should
be violently opposed to them, and bitterly
fighting their traditional allies. As it currently
stands, there are three main groups
adventuring in the campaign. One of these
is a force of knights loyal to Arthur. A second
group, once motivated by ambition and
the prospect of wealth, but now supposedly
committed (actually to widely varying degrees)
to justice for the Celts, includes a
Viking ship captain and a turncoat knight
of the court. A third group, composed of
cerebral members of various arcane cults
and studies, has fallen under the influence
of Merlin and now works toward a grander
purpose than even the besieged Arthur can
imagine. How others will fall in with these
groups, or how the groups will fall out
among themselves, one can only imagine.
But two things are certain. It will not be a
traditional campaign, and the players will
not go away after it is over to wonder what
motives carried it to its climactic end.
 
 
 

Charging isn’t cheap
How to make and fix rods, staves, and wands
by Peter Johnson

How does a character go about making
and recharging magic items in an AD&D®
game campaign? The Dungeon Masters
Guide lays down some general guidelines
for characters to follow, but fails to go into
specifics on the topic — a potential source
of problems for players and DMs alike.

A review of what the DMG offers is
important. A cleric meditates for fourteen
days, fasts for seven, then spends a day
praying over and purifying-the item to be
enchanted, The cleric then places the item
on an altar and invokes divine favor to
instill it with the requisite magic. The invo-
cation has a cumulative 1% chance per day
of succeeding. If the item needs charges, the
necessary spells are cast on the item. Fi-
nally, the cleric sanctifies the item, and it is
ready for use.

A magic user casts enchant an item on
the properly prepared raw materials for the
item. This enchantment takes sixteen hours
(2 eight-hour days), at the end of which
time the magic-user pronounces a final
magical syllable. The item must make a
saving throw equal to that of the magic-
user, including all of the magic-user’s bo-
nuses up to +3. If the item saves, the
magic has worked, and the item is ready to
have the necessary charges entered. During
this time, the item may never be placed
more than 1’ away from the magic-user,
and it must be touched during all periods of
active enchantment.

For either clerical or magic-user items,
the raw materials must be of the highest
quality. No more than twenty-four hours
may elapse between any actions when en-
chanting the item.

Obviously, this is a lot of work. Aplayer
character cleric or magic-user cannot always
afford to spend days and weeks away from
adventuring just to make one staff. A
magic-user or clerical assistant or hireling
could make such items if a suitable arrange-
ment can be worked out. Creating a magi-
cal item should not be made too easy, to
keep PCs from shovelling them out of their
laboratories by the dozens.

The above procedures leave many ques-
tions unanswered. What basic materials are
needed to make each rod, staff, or wand?
How do you recharge the item — do you
merely blast a wand of lightning with a
lightning bolt of your own? How does a
DM handle the recharging of an item like a
wand of metal and mineral detection, which
has no corresponding spell forrecharging
it? Can the same magical spellbe used to
create different magic items? Finally, how

can a DM ensure variety and individuality
among magic items in the campaign?
To answer these questions, it’s best to
start at the point when a character decides
to make a magic item of his own. If the
character is making an item that already
exists in your campaign, your job as DM is
simplified. All you need to do is feed bits
and pieces of information to the character as
his research on how to make the item pro-
ceeds. A magical formula here, half an
ingredient list there — some or all of the
information may be taken from this article.
After the character has learned the correct
ingredients and procedure, gathered all the
necessities, and gone into seclusion, the
procedure outlined above is followed. The
enchantment is laid, the charges are en-
tered, and presto! A new magic item is
born.

Nice, but it doesn’t always happen that
way. DMs learn never to make anything too
easy and never to give out a lot of correct
information all at once. So, many charac-
ters will begin the enchantments without
knowing the correct rituals or ingredients to
make the item. Some will experiment with-
out any preliminary research, trusting to
chance and the gods for success.

Most of these characters will fail in their
quests. Some will attain limited success, a
few will succeed, and a few may even end
up with magic items that do unexpected
things, like a wand of magic missiles that
doubles as a duck call. Not all variations on
procedures or ingredients should be disal-
lowed out of hand, although thoughtless
experimentation should usually lead to
failure or disastrous backfiring.

The use of imperfect rituals and variant
ingredients gives DMs the chance to intro-
duce unique magical items into the game.
Of course, no magic item should unbalance
the campaign. The power of a magic item
may be curbed by letting adversaries have
saving throws against its power, by limiting
the amount of damage per charge ex-
pended, or by building a percentage chance
of failure into the magic item. Characters
who create unique magical items may risk a
greater chance of having the item turn out
imperfectly, adding considerable uncertainty
and excitement to the campaign. (Is my
wand going to blow up or just turn me into
a frog?)

If a player wishes to introduce a new
magical item into the game, the DM should
lay down some guidelines on how that
character does his initial research. One
interesting possibility is for the player of
that character to do some actual research by
going to the library and learning which type
of wood is said to attract lightning, which
gems cure disease, which metals provide
good luck, etc. A warning: Such research,
even today, is not easy. Aside from a few
histories of medieval England and several
books on herbal lore, information on such
folklore is scarce. Such research should be
entirely optional and, if it is performed, well
rewarded (do not let the player argue down
the cost of making the item as a result,
however). The benefits include a greater
sense of participation by the player, more
realism, and less work for the DM.

The information garnered by such re-
search can be used to complement or re-
place the following material. More
conventional and less taxing methods of
research, such as consulting sages, oracles,
deities, or divine servants, will allow the
DM to use the following listings more or
less as written.

The base chance of finding the proper
procedure for creating a unique item de-
pends on the money spent. The minimum
cost of such research is 2,000 gp a week,
which produces a base 10% chance of suc-
cess. The chance of success increases by
10% every time the amount spent is hiked
by 2,000 gp, up to a maximum chance of
50%; when the cost is 10,000 gp per week.
This money is used to buy tomes, hire
sages, etc. The minimum time spent on
such research equals in weeks the minimum
level a character must be in order to suc-
cessfully make the item. A wand of magic
missiles has a preparatory time of twelve
weeks, a staff of the magi has a time of
eighteen weeks, and so forth.

To find the actual chance of success per
week of research, take the base chance, add
1% per level of the character, plus 1% per
intelligence point of the character (if a
magic-user; use wisdom for clerics), minus
twice the minimum required level to make
the rod, staff, or wand. Example: Mae, an
18th-level magic-user, decides to make a
staff of the magi. Her intelligence is 18, and
she spends 2,000 gp per week. Her chance
of success is 10% + 18% + 18% - 36% =
10% per week, non-cumulative, for discov-
ering the proper materials and procedures
for making the magic item. The usual pro-
cedure would be to have Mae do her initial
research for eighteen weeks, and then roll
the percentile dice. Each time Mae fails to
roll 10% or lower, she must lay out another
2,000 gp and spend another week on re-
search. If she is successful, she receives the
procedural list, puts the raw materials to-
gether in the prescribed fashion, then pro-
ceeds with the enchantment.

The drawback to the above method is
that it does not allow for variety. An alter-
nate method would be to have the DM roll
for success each week throughout the initial
preparatory period. Each time the DM rolls
the given percentage or lower, he hands out
some correct information to the player.
Every time the roll of the dice is unsuccess-
ful by 40% or more, the DM hands out
some inaccurate information. This not only
allows for variety (because the player has no
way of knowing if the information is cor-
rect), it also more accurately parallels a true
research situation, where truth and false-
hood can be easily confused and inter-
mixed. A kind DM may hand out true
information that contradicts falsehoods
learned earlier. The DM should be sure that
no success is possible before all necessary
facts have been gathered, although the
player should decide when his or her char-
acter has sufficient and correct information.
If the character uses false information to
create a magic item, leading to the use of
the wrong enchantments or materials, then
the DM rolls on the following table to deter-
mine the result of the enchantments.
 

Dice Result	-
01-65	Outright failure
66-85	Limited success  (the item will hold only five charges, there are harm- ful side effects with the item’s use, or a unique and unwanted kind of magic item was created)
86-98	Success
99-00	Success, and the item has a unique and helpful feature

An indication of failure is just that; the
item will never work as was planned, and
the character must start over. A unique
feature might be an innate ego within the
item, the ability to detect evil 50% of the
time, and so forth. No such unique features
should unduly change the balance of power
in the campaign, and negative features
should be strongly considered. (See the
Malevolent Effects Tables for artifacts and
relics, DMG, pp. 162- 163.) A new kind of
magic item could be a different rod, staff, or
wand from the DMG, an item derived from
a previous DRAGON® Magazine article, or
something the DM has prepared for the
occasion. This procedure should never
result in the creation of an artifact or
equally powerful item; the newly created
magic should be limited in its capabilities.

A 10% bonus should be added to rolls on
the above table if the player performed
library research on creating a particular
item. A 5% penalty should be subtracted
for every variation made in item creation
from the standards given below (or those
adopted in a particular campaign).

Methods of magical creation
The following are suggested procedures
for creating the various rods, staves, and
wands listed in the DMG. The DM may
easily craft similar procedures for creating
items introduced in the Unearthed Arcana
book, DRAGON Magazine articles, and
other such sources. The minimum levels
required for a character of a class that can
manufacture these items are given as well.

Dungeon Masters should feel free to alter,
amend, omit, or otherwise use this informa-
tion as desired, particularly in the sections
describing command words. In certain
places, the text refers to information that
will have been obtained during the initial
investigation on how to create the item.
Such information includes certain com-
mand words, special spells or scrolls, and
the like. It is assumed that the magic-item
maker will have gained such materials prior
to successfully making an item.

Note that the creation of certain items
may call for spells that are beyond the capa-
bilities of a spell caster to use at his current
level. The successful use of scrolls, rings of
spell storing, hired spell casters, and so
forth will overcome this handicap, though
the DM may add an increased chance for
the creation procedure to fail or produce a
variant item.

Also note that recharging of a particular
item cannot occur during combat, such
that, for example, an enemy magic-user
casting a magic missile at a wizard with a
partially depleted wand of magic missiles
could unintentionally recharge the wand.
The owner of the item must recharge such
items in a relatively stress-free situation,
unless specifically noted below (such as per
the wand of lightning’s recharging proce-
dure, which could prove hazardous).

Rod of absorption (12th-level cleric, 16th-
level magic-user): Take a green shoot from
an apple at harvest time. Apple is a lucky
wood, able to store and release magic easily.
Bury it in a cedar crate with a topaz — the
best stone for absorbing magic — and the
strongest magic item the maker of the rod
had used in the last year. Clerics must also
include their holy symbol. A limited wish
must be cast now, to create a magical con-
nection between the items in the crate.
After one month, the topaz turns to dust
and the magic item is ruined, but the rod is
ready to be enchanted. If the rod takes the
enchantment (see above for the process),
then a second spell included in the instruc-
tions is read. The vellum on which the
second spell was contained will burst into
flames. The rod is run through the flames,
and the command word appears on the rod.
It is now ready for use.

Rod of beguiling (10th-level cleric, 12th-
level magic-user): The instructions for this
rod are divided between two different
scrolls, which the character will locate if all
instructions for making this item are found.
If the spell on the second scroll is cast too
soon, the maker is beguiled so that every
humanoid seen for one month
will be con-
sidered a “best friend” to be given money,
aid, and much advice. The first scroll in-
structs the maker to find an isolated ash
tree; ash is known for its charm potential.
Cut one branch from the morning side of
the tree and another branch from the eve-
ning side. Thus, opposing energies are
symbolically joined so that the rod will join
opposing wills to the wielder’s own. Bind
the two branches together, then give them
to a nereid to hold underwater for one year.
Next, bake the rod in a mud oven built for
this sole purpose. Enchant the rod. Read
the second scroll, on which a beguile spell
and the command word are written. As long
as the beguile spell is used solely for the
purpose of charging the rod, the spell will
vanish from the scroll in the typical fashion
as it is cast, but will reappear whenever a
certain rare incense is burned underneath
it. The incense can be purchased for 1,000
gp. If the beguile spell is used in any other
fashion, it will rebound upon the caster in
the manner previously described. Note:
Beguile, if cast in combat, will function as a
mass charm spell with a one-turn duration.

Rod of cancellation (12th-level cleric,
16th-level magic-user): Take a thigh bone
from an enchanter who died of old age.
Shatter the bone so that one end reveals a
hollow marrow. Place a black sapphire,
known for its power to drink magic, into the
hollow, and bind it in place using wire that
once grounded a lightning rod. Take the rod
to a high place, and stand it upright with
the sapphire to the sky. Read aloud the spell
(included in the instructions) during a thun-
derstorm; a lightning bolt will strike the
rod. The bone must save vs. lightning at -2
or shatter. If the bone saves, the rod is
empowered, and the command phrase
glows inside the sapphire.

Rod of lordly might: Legend claims these
items are made only by servants of a god of
weaponry in their spare time. If such a rod
is tracked down, however, it might have the
following variations: is missing one or more
aspects of a normal rod of lordly might; has
only the flaming sword as a weapon, but
with a fountain of cool water which can be
made to jet out the other end (as per the
decanter of endless water); has no weap-
onry, but casts a hypnotic pattern when
twirled, acts as a shield +3 when raised,
and detects magic and enemies.

Rod of resurrection (16th-level cleric):
Take a 3’ branch from a tree of goodness,
the rowan, under the care of a treant. Carve
the thicker end into the form of a human-
oid, adding jet eyes and ruby lips. Bind an
amethyst, the only true stone of resurrec-
tion, over the slender end of the rod. Place
a mandrake root over the amethyst for
magical power, bind it with a cloth soaked
in the maker’s own blood, and wrap the
cloth with silver wire. The ceremony to
enchant the rod must use special robes and
incense, as well as a building erected for the
ceremony. The outlay must reach 100,000
gp. At the end of the ceremony, the com-
mand word will issue forth once from the
mandrake, which shows the rod is activated
and fully charged.

Rod of rulership (10th-level cleric, 12th-
level magic-user): Take the crown of a king,
and have it reworked into a cylindrical
shape. Give it to a succubus for one month,
then take it back, being careful not to hurt
the demon. This gives the rod the necessary
association with magics of fealty and charm-
ing. Enchant the rod, then read the spell
that will be found in the instructions. The
rod is fully charged, and its command word
is the name of the kingdom the king ruled.
Optionally, the rod will affect 1/10 the num-
ber of hit dice of creatures that the king
ruled over.

Rod of smiting (12th-level cleric): Trace
one’s clerical symbol on a tome for the
making of a golem, and place the rod
thereon. During the next month, petition
the deity twice a day that the rod be en-
chanted. The rest of each day must be spent
fasting and meditating. (Nourishment may
be taken after the sun has set). Proceed with
the usual enchantment process, but at the
end, when the item is on the altar (still atop
the tome) and divine favor is visited upon
the rod, the tome must save as a book vs.
fireball. If it saves, the rod vanishes, then
pops out of the tome when it is opened. The
tome is undamaged. Otherwise, the tome
burns and the cleric must retrieve the rod
from the flames, bringing 3-30 points of
damage upon himself (no save). The com-
mand word is the name of the first fighter
that the cleric ever met.

Staff of command (10th-level cleric):
Engrave the entire contents of the most
popular speech of a successful politician
around the trunk of an ash tree no more
than 6’ in height, and no less than 5’.
When the tree dies, lop it down with one
blow (giant strength use permitted), then
boil it in an ointment made of chicory,
hound’s-tongue (the plant, not the animal),
and the hide of a spirit naga. All three
ingredients add to the ability of the staff to
command obedience. Enchant the staff.
Add charges by praying over the staff, one
charge per prayer The command phrase is
the first three words of the speech.

Staff of curing (16th-level cleric): Take a
branch from a rowan that stands in a holy
place (like the temple grounds). Carve a
holy symbol into a ginseng root that has
naturally grown in the shape of a man (this
is the greatest root of healing). Begin the
enchantment process. When it comes time
to place the staff on the altar, lay the gin-
seng root at the tip of the staff. When divine
favor has been successfully invoked, the
root and staff will be seen to have joined
magically, assuming the shape of the origi-nal rowan
branch (about 5’ long) with the
texture of the ginseng root. The command
word is the name of the cleric’s deity. One
charge is added to the staff for each-week of
non-adventuring meditation the cleric per-
forms. This meditation must be done in a
secluded area, with precious incense burn-
ing constantly.

Staff of the magi (18th-level magic-user):
Take a 6’ shaft of the wood of all great
magics, oak. At the thick end, place a butt
of applewood, the wood of gentleness. At
the other end, a splinter of blackthorn, the
wood of aggression. Join the pieces with a
limited wish. Rub the staff with a page from
the spell book of a living wizard, but not
one’s own book. Soak the staff in an oint-
ment of ground quartz and bloodstone, for
the abjurative and elemental energies of the
staff, and drip in the juices of mandrake
and henbane. These last two dangerous
herbs boost magical ability. Leave the staff
in the ointment for six months. In the
meantime, obtain small amounts of yeti fur
never touched by another humanoid and
metal heated by a hell hound’s flame. Place
the metal and fur next to the staff, wrap it
up with poplar bark (for the alteration
energies), and bind together with the web of
a giant spider. Wish into one unit. Enchant
the staff. Absorption is the only way this
staff can be charged or recharged; at least
one charge must be added in the first
twenty-four hours. The command word is
the name of the wizard from whom the spell
book page was taken.

Staff of power (18th-level magic-user):
Oak is used for the staves that shoot light-
ning bolts; baywood, for the others. Oak is
associated with lightning and is a more
powerful wood, but bay is more adaptable.
Stone shape two pieces of obsidian, the
stone of the gods, into rings that fit around
the 5’ length of wood at each end. Etch a
mace into the obsidian at one end, a shield
into the obsidian at the other. Place a pro-
tective star sapphire into a jeweled band
around the center of the staff. Sprinkle
basil, an herb of light and darkness, over
the staff, then cover with the skin of a pow-
erful magic-using creature (such as a ki-rin
or red dragon) and enchant the staff. Wish
the staff and a scroll bearing the appropriate
spells (check the DMG) into one unit. One
side effect of the wish is that the staff will
take on a smooth, silvery appearance, as if
the staff were shod in metal. Add charges
by casting a friends spell on the staff, while
a helpmate slaps it against a subdued
dragon (one charge per spell). The com-
mand word is the name of the creature
whose skin covers the staff.

Staff of the serpent (10th-level cleric):
Enter a swamp wherein lives a mist dragon.
Into a hummock of the swamp, away from
sight of solid ground, bury a swatch of
snakeweed with a sprig of clove as a catalyz-
ing agent. Call out a prayer. Within an
hour, snakes will leap from the spot. Some
will be red (adders) and some green (con-
strictors). Catch one. (Note: The snake will
fight back.) Turn it into a staff with a snakes
to sticks spell. Enchant the staff in the nor-
mal fashion. The command phrase will
come in a dream on the night after the staff
is sanctified.

Staff of striking (10th-level cleric): Take a
6’ length of ironwood, the wood of fighters.
Bless the staff in a week-long ceremony.
During this time, there is a 5% chance that
a malign spirit will enter the staff, which
will then cause the item to act as do bracers
of defenselessness when it is used, although
its normal functions will not be impaired.
After the blessing, bathe the staff in the
juice of the plant of courage, the marigold.
Enchant the staff. Charges are entered with
each day of fasting and meditation thereaf-
ter, one charge per day; the command word
must be chanted continuously by acolytes
during this time. The command word is the
last half of the deity’s name.

Staff of withering (16th-level cleric): Cut
a 5’ shaft of elder-wood, the wood of evil,
from a place near the lair of an abhorrent
creature at midnight. Carve one’s holy
symbol into the handle, an act which has a
5% chance of calling a servant from the
ranks of one’s deity’s enemies to attack the
cleric. Bind a garland of betony, which
enhances withering, to the staff. Then
enchant the staff while it rests in a gold
coffer filled with (un)holy water. Add
charges by casting one wither spell per day
onto the betony garland for fifty successive
days. Each spell adds a charge. The com-
mand phrase is the verbal component of the
wither spell.

Wand of conjuration (14th-level magic-
user): Smear brimstone over a 2’ length of
the magical medlar wood. Light the brim-
stone, then plunge it flaming into a vat
containing the blood of all the creatures the
wand will summon. Enchant the wand. Call
an unseen servant and magic jar it into the
wand. Using limited wish, enter two scrolls
into the wand— one bearing all the
monster-summoning spells (I-VII), the
other continual darkness and prismatic
sphere. The command word will be found
in the instructions. Add charges by magic
jarring more unseen servants into the wand,
one charge per servant.

Wand of enemy detection (10th-level
cleric, 12th-level magic-user): Bind sard,
alexandrite, ruby, and sapphire stones
around a hazelwood shaft no more than 2’
in length. This gives a good variety of per-
ceptive abilities to the wand. Plunge the
wand into a vat of rakshasa blood. Pull it
out and dry over a cedarwood fire. Enchant
the wand. Add charges by reading friends
or know alignment spells from a scroll, one
charge per spell. The command word is the
name of the first person who ever beat up or
teased the maker of the wand as a child.

Wand of fear (10th-level cleric, 12th-level
magic-user): Using the same methods as to
enchant a rod, staff, or wand, the cleric or
magic-user enchants a fresh mandrake root.
Then, the root is planted near a manticore’s
lair. After five seasons, harvest the man-
drake patch that results. Take a branch
from an aspen in the exact middle of a large
forest —aspens reveal their connection to
fear in their trembling voices. Slice the tip
of the wand, then enchant it as well. Over
the slice, set a mandrake. Cast a fear spell
“at the mandrake, which will save as a 5th-
level fighter. Any mandrake that fails to
save oozes into the slit and gives the wand
one charge. The command words are the
verbal component of the fear spell.

Wand of fire (14th-level magic-user):
Take a branch from a hundred-year-old
oak. Pour the still-hot blood of a fire-
breathing creature over the wand. Set a fire
opal in a red dragon’s claw (blood and claw
cannot come from the same creature) and
affix the claw to the slender end of the 1’
wand. Carve the command word — the
personal name of the dragon whose claw
adorns the wand —into the wood. Enscroll
the spells to be entered, enchant the wand,
and join scroll and wand with a limited
wish. Charge the wand by casting fire-
related spells of at least 3rd level on the
opal, one charge per spell. 1% of such spells
will backfire, possibly destroying the wand
and harming the spell caster.

Wand of frost (14th-level magic-user):
Gather the thigh bone of a yeti, and cover
with the esophagus of a white dragon. Bind
these together with rings of clear quartz.
Pour holy water over the wand, and freeze
with these successive spells: cone of cold,
wall of ice and ice storm. Enchant the
wand, and add charges by pronouncing the
personal name of the slain dragon while an
assistant casts cone of cold spells on the
wand. The command word must be found
with a limited wish.

Wand of illumination (10th-level cleric,
12th-level magic-user): Cut a 2’ bough
from a living holly, and tip it with a cap of
sterling silver —the wood and metal be-
loved of creatures of light. Carve the symbol
of a god of light into the wand’s thick end.
Place a continual light spell on a scroll (as a
spell, not so it illuminates the scroll), en-
chant the wand, then burn the scroll under
the wand. Add charges by casting continual
light spells, one per charge, onto the god’s
symbol (which will absorb them). The
command word is the god’s name.

Wand of illusion (12th-level magic-user):
Take the lowest branch of a poplar that
grows in the garden of an illusionist. Mash
jimson weed, plant of the illusory, and cake
it over the wand. Bind two of the stones of
dual aspect, alexandrite, to the wand (one
on each end). Cover with the hide of a
lesser devil. Enchant the wand. Add charges
by casting phantasmal force spells in such a
way that both alexandrites are affected by
the spell at once. The command word is the
maker’s own name spoken backwards.

Wand of lightning (12th-level magic-
user): During a thunderstorm, gather a
piece of wood splintered from an oak by
lightning. Before the rain stops, attach an
amber tip to one end of the splinter (amber
is associated with lightning in many old
texts). Fashion a handle for the other end,
using neutral laurel wood, attaching it with
copper wire. Enchant the wand. Go to a
swamp, corner a will-o-wisp, and throw the
wand through it (any hit passes through the
creature). The wand is then fully charged
and may be completely recharged in the
same manner. The command word is in the
instructions the maker originally found, but
is unintelligible until the wand is activated.

Wand of magic detection (10th-level
cleric, 12th-level magic-user): Hollow out
one end of a 2’ length of myrtle, a wood
sympathetic to magic. Cover with a slip of
cedarwood that extends 3” beyond the
hollow end. This will dampen out all magi-
cal energies coming from directions other
than the direction pointed. Place a pearl in
the hollow, and seal it in place using pine
sap. Enchant the wand. Cast detect magic
spells upon the pearl, one charge per spell.
The command word is the first word of the
most holy text in the land that the maker
inhabits.

Wand of magic missiles (10th-level magic-
user): Take amber from a place with a
dismal, rainy climate, then a sprig of sting-
ing nettle from a place with a wonderful,
sunny climate. Carry them together in a
cedar casket on a journey of not less than
500 days. Carve a niche in a 2’ length of
blackthorn, and place it in the nettle and
amber. Using magical means, warp the
blackthorn so that the nettle and amber are
trapped inside the wood, thus joining three
very aggressive ingredients. Enchant the
wand. Join a scroll bearing a magic missile
spell to the wand, using a limited wish.
Carve the command word listed in the
instructions into the handle of the wand.
Cast magic missile spells to charge, one
charge per spell. Each missile should spiral
around the wand and strike it on the en-
graved command word.

Wand of metal and mineral detection
(10th-level cleric, 12th-level magic-user):
Cut the highest branch of a hazel tree on
the first night of harvest time. (Hazel is
good for any divinatory magic.) Let the
branch fall from the tree and be caught by a
fat thief before it hits the ground. Let the
thief take one end, the maker the other, and
the two bend the wood double. The maker
pinches the branch at the bend until it snaps
off, leaving at least a 2’ section left. He or
she then takes that section underground,
near a pile of metals and minerals worth
50,000 gp. Enchant the wand. Cast the spell
of empowerment found in the instructions.
(This spell cannot be used for any other
purpose; it takes one turn to cast and has
verbal components only.) The pile of metal
will vanish, and the wand will be fully
charged. It can be recharged by casting the
same spell, at the rate of one charge gained
for every 1,000 gp of metal piled up. The
command word is the name of the thiefs
grandmother.

Wand of negation (12th-level cleric, 14th-
level magic-user): Break off the last living
branch of a dying peach tree. (Anti-magical
agents are found in peach.) Preserve the
branch in a mixture of snake oil and a
potion of longevity Drink the mixture over
one week. (No anti-aging effects will be
felt). Cover the wand with a cloth woven
from the fur of any magic-resistant creature
and bind the cloth with gold bands that
have smoky quartz gems inset. Smoky
quartz is famed for its ability to capture
energies. Enchant the wand. Add charges
by casting dispel magic spells on the cloth,
which still retains some of its magic resist-
ance from the creature; charging may go a
bit slowly. The command word is found in
the instructions.

Wand of paralyzation (14th-level magic-
user): Find a magical mirror of any sort
which no longer has its magical properties.
Shatter it at a time of ill omen. Choose a
shard, and hammer it into one end of a
rotting branch of elderwood no longer than
2’. Disintegrate all other pieces of the mir-
ror. Pour essence of ghoul over the wand.
Enchant the wand. Charges are entered by
bathing the wand in an ointment made of
extract of Portuguese man-o-war. The wand
must soak in the ointment one week for
every charge entered. Due to evaporation, a
1 HD portuguese man-o-war will be suffic-
ient for only one bath (one charge).

Wand of polymorphing (12th-level magic-
user): Take a root from a beech tree, the
tree of multiple aspect. Bind a bit of amber
with an insect occluded inside it to the
slender end of the 2’ wand. Carve the name
of the insect into the amber. Enchant the
wand, and charge with polymorph spells
cast on the beech tree from which the wand
came, one charge/spell. No illusory spell
will function within 10’ of that beech until
the wand is ruined. The command word
must be a rhyme including the name of the
insect occluded in the amber and of the
creature to which the user intends the trans-
formation. For instance, “Grasshopper to
Atlantis, make him a mantis!”

Wand of secret door and trap location
(10th-level cleric, 12th-level magic-user):
Take a 1’ length of ivory. Scribe into it the
verbal component of a true seeing spell or a
limited wish specially worded so that secret
doors and traps will appear upon use of the
command word. The command word is in
the instructions. Enchant the wand.
Charges are added by holding aloft a lan-
tern which has a six-sided star etched into
its glass. Inside the lantern is placed a gem-
stone worth 100 gp. The wand is held in the
other hand, and the spell read off the wand.
At the end of the spell, light blazes from the
lantern, the diamond vanishes, and a
charge is entered.

Wand of wonder: This wand is always
made unintentionally. There is a 10%
chance of a wand of wonder resulting if
either of the following fail to save against
enchant an item: a wand of conjuration or a
wand of illusion. 20% of such wands are
active only for their maker, being worthless
to anyone else. The reverse applies to the
other 80% of wands of this sort.

Final notes

Clerics cannot read instructions aimed for
magic-users, nor magic-users those aimed
for clerics. Tools used in making magic
items must be of the highest quality and
made solely for this task. Substitutions
should create the possibility of the rod, staff,
or wand malfunctioning, perhaps a 5% per
substitute. Generally, gold or silver wire
may be used to attach the separate parts of
these magic items — unless, of course, in
your campaign only demon ichor is a
proper binding agent.

THE FORUM
Often have emerging RPGs been
denounced in comparison to their ?superiors? in
terms of over-regulation. What their critics have
been missing, sadly, is the fact that the widely
accepted superior role-playing game, the AD&D
game, also follows a policy which tends to dissuade
its players from fully role-playing their
characters through threats and heroic morality.
This limitation has often been discussed in these
pages, but few have seen the truth of what their
condemnations point to: that the very concept of
?alignment? tends to stifle role-playing, and to
substitute for it an acceptance of stock characters.
Thus is the facade of realism broken.

The AD&D game is an activity wherein players
may act out heroic fantasies [through their characters],
where they can fight the unbeatable foe
with naught but their fantastic strength and
unbelievable skills; where they can revel in the
unreal. This is not to say, however, that it is not a
game of realism as well; the notion of what is real
simply changes to fit the standards of this impossible
world. The laws of science become the laws
of magic, perhaps, but they are still laws, and as
such must be tolerated.

In this impossible world, however, men are still
men, and men, by definition, must have
thoughts, ideas, hopes, fears, weaknesses, phobias,
faults, and perhaps a few annoying tendencies
-- in short, men must have personalities.

Real people are everchanging, always surprising,
and anything but absolute. Why, then, must
we restrict characters through such an absurd
system as alignment? Is Ptolemy the Paladin not
allowed to make a mistake now and then, not
allowed to lose his temper, or his interest in yet
another holy quest — not allowed to be human?
On the other hand, should Benzar the Assassin be
reprimanded for not killing his mother, for helping
a peasant woman across the alley -- for not
acting as malevolent as a devil?

People just can?t be lumped into categories like
this. No one does all good or all evil ? and who
are we to judge what is good or evil anyway?
Players, as a rule, do not fully understand the
tenets of each alignment; they see only the ideal,
cardboard image of that alignment. Thus, their
characters actually attempt to reach a level of
non-personality, of non-human perfection, and
this quest for absolute unity with an alignment
must result in a lack of role-playing. When a
character is told how to act, and is penalized for
not acting as he ?should,? the purpose of the
game is gone. Where is the enjoyment in roleplaying
when each like-aligned character must be
played in the same way? Alignment cannot be
applied to individual characters if one seeks true
role-playing.

To those who might disagree with these claims,
I would offer a test. Try creating a character,
determining his words and actions not by class or
alignment, but instead by his other experiences in
life. Just role-play the character for a while, and
concentrate on that instead of on the dice. Don?t
worry whether he should do something, just let
him do it, and try to discover, from his background
that you will create, why he talked and
acted in the way he did. In a short time you will
know something of your character, if you have
remained apart from standards of class and
alignment, and once you know your character,
you will know that you can pin no alignment on
him. If you keep him, he?ll grow even more, for
like a real person he?ll never know everything
there is to know about himself. He won?t always
be sure how to act. Then, he won?t be Ptolemy
the Lawful Good Paladin; he?ll be Ptolemy the
Person.

Daniel J. Birkholz
Crystal, Minn.
Dragon #98

*    *    *    *

Bravo! Paul Suttie?s answer to alignment
problem in issue #101 of DRAGON Magazine
was a good, innovative idea which advances the
cause of role-playing in my humble opinion. But
I still prefer the alignment system outlined in the
Players Handbook for its simplicity. It is necessary
for DMs controlling intelligent swords and
monsters. I propose that the two be unofficially
integrated herein.

For one thing, no one, not even a paladin, has
to be a pure alignment. Everything can have
neutral tendencies. To illustrate this, look at page
119 of the PH. A paladin whose alignment is
graphed between the boldfaced words ?Lawful
Good? and ?Neutral? is no less a paladin than
one who is graphed directly on top of the word
?Saintly.?

Alignment does not have to be absolute. It can
be perceived as Paul mentioned, so an English
paladin can fight a French paladin, if both feel it
will benefit their ideas of law and good. If they
both serve the same god, it is highly unlikely that
they would choose to fight each other; however,
each could strike at the troops of the other in
good conscience, provided each feels it will do
some good. The actions of good people should
bring about some form of good, while those of the
lawful should help to establish order.

No one need be killed for violating his alignment
in a few minor forms. Even a serious
breach, when committed unknowingly, should be
seen with mercy by the DM. For example, a
paladin (they are always picked on when people
attempt to alter alignment) sees a camel-like beast
with wings and the head of primate set the floor
under his feet aflame. Naturally, he attacks.
Although he should have used his powers of
detecting evil first, he should not lose his paladinhood
for this. At the extreme, he may lose his
use of ?laying on hands? and clerical spells until
he atones for his sin.

A person?s duty to important causes, religion,
and ruler should heavily influence that person?s
decision-making. Alignment is there for use when
necessary, but it will not prevent political, religious,
or personal struggles. A little is necessary,
but that should always be so, according to this
DM.
    William Bond Jr.
    Omaha, Neb.
    (Dragon #104)
 

If the AD&D game dies, it will be of terminal
over-sophistication. Those who make their living
(or merely an extra buck every now and then)
writing about the game have seen fit to add ever
more Byzantine complexities (new PC races, new
PC and NPC classes, etc.) to a rules system
already rich in detail. Also, deep and serious
thinkers continue to try to impose ?realism? on a
fantasy game ? even, Odin help us, historical
and moral realism. As the alert reader may have
surmised, I have just read Unearthed Arcana.
But I am directing the brunt of my remarks at
Paul Suttie?s article on alignment in DRAGON
issue #101.

Paul deplores (as well he should) ?the introduction
of twentieth-century morality? into the
AD&D game; yet, his indictment of the standard
alignment system, as stated and implied throughout
the rulebooks, is based on twentieth-century
moral concepts ? to wit, moral relativism and
moral equivalency. His argument is that the
paladin or ranger who is committed to the extermination
of goblins and orcs is not ?good? from
the goblins? and orcs? points of view. In fact,
from an objective point of view, the paladin who
seeks to kill orcs and the orc who seeks to kill
paladins are morally equivalent. Good and evil,
then, are relative, depending on your point of
view; all sides in a bloody conflict may be equally
?good? if they are loyal to their respective deities
and kings.

Now, I am no Moral Majoritarian, to decry
moral relativism as the tool of secular humanists
and the devil. I think that it is an intelligent
approach to moral conflicts in the real world. But
fantasy games do not take place in the real world!
They do not take place in twentieth-century
reality, nor do they take place in the tenthcentury
quasi-historical ?reality? that Paul
evidently has in mind. They take place in a
fantasy world ? and in a fantasy world, the rules
of morality, just like the rules of physics and
ecology, are different.

Throughout the classic fantasy literature, from
Beowulf to Tolkien, ?good? and ?evil? are
entities unto themselves ? ?elements,? if you like
(as in The Temple of Elemental Evil). They are
not relative; they do not depend on your point of
view, because in a fantasy world there is no
spectrum of legitimate points of view. Orcs, for
example, have no legitimate point of view, morally
speaking. They are inherently evil: they are
born evil, they live evil, and they die evil. They
may be forced to perform a good act or two, but
they cannot be reformed and killing them, even
as infants, is a good act, not an evil one. Psychologically,
we may explore their motives, and
compare their approach to evilness with that of
goblins, gnolls, etc. (as in the famous ?Point of
View? articles), but morally they are evil, and
that is the end of it.

The prolongation and preservation of life is
?good? only if we are talking about the lives of
good creatures such as lammasu and devas;
killing evil creatures such as trolls and devils is
equally ?good.? (In fact, it seems difficult to
understand how Paul can justify moral relativism
in a game with devils and demons on one side
and devas, solars, planetars, etc., on the other ?
in a conflict between them, would he argue that
both sides were ?good,? depending on your point
of view?) Neutral monsters should be allowed to
live if they are harmless (to ?good? creatures)
and intelligent; otherwise, they can be killed for
practical reasons with no more moral anguish
than we expend over swatting a mosquito or
butchering a Thanksgiving turkey.

Humans, demi-humans, and semi-humans are
the exception to the above, because they have the
power of moral choice. They are not born to any
alignment. An assassin chooses to be evil, and,
given the right circumstances, could change his
mind. Good characters, like good monsters, have
a right to live that must be respected by all other
good characters and monsters. Neutral characters
also have a right to live, unless for some reason
they are bringing misery or destruction to large
numbers of good and neutral folk; and even then,
killing them is at most an undesireable necessity,
the lesser of two evils. Evil characters have no
right to live, unless they could be redeemed or
converted. In each of the last two cases, a judgement
call is required from the character; but it is
an intellectual judgement rather than a moral
one. (Can this blackguard really change his ways?
Can we prevent civil war without killing the mad,
but not evil, king?) Characters could be duped or
honestly mistaken in these judgements without
risking their alignments.

Paladins, then, need not be pacifists. On the
contrary, the destruction of evil and evil creatures
is one of their highest duties, and the one they are
most specifically fitted to perform. However, in
performing this duty, they must adhere to their
code of honor: no attacking by surprise or from
behind, no duplicity or use of underhanded
methods such as poison or flaming oil. They fight
to kill, but in a way reminiscent of Arthur?s
knights fighting a giant, troll, or dragon. Parenthetically,
it seems to me that much of Paul?s
argument is rooted in his resentment of paladins,
whom he views as self-righteous, overbearing,
hypocritical bigots ? the question being, how
could such insufferable jerks as he envisions ever
obtain 17 and 18 charisma?

Not all good characters need emulate the
paladin. The more practical rangers, for exam-
ple, may use almost any means to the end of the
greater good (i.e., ridding the world of evil
humanoids). Characters may disagree about
methods or priorities in promoting good and
defeating evil. Clerics of Tyr and Diancecht,
equally lawful good, might disagree over the
relative importance of pursuing the malefactors
or aiding the victims after an orcish raid on a
farming village, but this would probably end in
an amicable division of labor, with the one taking
the role of policeman and the other the equally
?good? role of doctor (all of which Fraser Sherman <link>
pointed out in DRAGON issue #86). But all
good characters will have certain ethics in common,
such as that no creature should suffer
unnecessarily and that one must protect innocent
?good? creatures from harm with one?s life, if
necessary. There is, therefore, some objectifiable
difference between good and evil.

Simple-minded? You bet! but, in a fantasy
game, morality has to be simple-minded. Moral
dilemmas and deep introspection are not the stuff
of fun adventures ? and fun adventures, I
assume, are the whole point of gaming.
    John Maxstadt
    Baton Rouge, La.
    (Dragon #104)

Quote:
Originally Posted by Barak
It does give one some thoughts about the benefits of playing in an alignment-less system. Something to be said about all sides believing they are right. Then again, When playing a game, a lot of people (me included some of the time) like the option of a black and white world, when one can make sure he's on the right side with the casting of a low-level spell.

I don't use any alignments in my game campaigns nowadays because the concept caused so much misunderstanding and confusion; but actions speak louder than words, and as clearly as words on character sheets 

Cheers,
Gary