OUT ON A LIMB

Language articles

Dear Editor:
I was very pleased by the articles in issue
#66 concerning languages in AD&D campaigns.
The article by A. D. Rogan was especially
good, and it reflected many of the problems
that I have observed in two years of play.
The author’s construction of language “families”
is ingenious, and it smooths out some
very bothersome problems with “official” language
capabilities. There is an implication
that, for instance, a halfling does not speak
dwarven, elven, gnome, goblin, orcish, and
the common tongue with equal fluency.
Rather, it is reasonable to postulate that the
average halfling could recognize and perhaps
understand a smattering of each of these
tongues, possibly just enough to comprehend
the gist of an overheard goblin plot or
warn a group of elves of the approach of an
army of trolls.

It is a pity that such thoughtfulness is not
applied to some of the adventure modules
currently on the shelves. I have found a disturbing
lack of imagination and logical thinking
therein, which can prove frustrating to a
DM attempting to lend his campaign some
flesh-and-blood character. This is especially
true in the area of language use. For instance,
in a recent major AD&D tournament, a socalled
“riddle” was encountered by the players,
wherein the phrase “opposite of live”
(with a long “i”) was used. The clue was supposed
to indicate the word “evil.”

First: The “opposite” of a word is by definition
its antonym, which in the case of “live”
would, of course, be “dead.” Inverting the letter
order of a word is denoted by its “reverse”
or “converse,” not its “opposite.” Second, and
perhaps more important: There is no reason
to believe that the words “live” and “evil,” in
the fictitious common tongue, are the reverses
of each other as they are in English.
How can the role of a character like an ancient
druid be played when he is expected to interpret
a riddle in terms of 20th-century English
word construction? Tricks which involve language
should be framed in such a way that
they do not clash with the atmosphere of the
milieu.

In general, I would like to see a higher level
of quality with regard to the use of language in
commercial AD&D offerings. The fine articles
on this subject in DRAGON #66 contributed
well to this end; hopefully, game designers
will take note of such good ideas.

Rick Knight
Chicago, III.
(Dragon #68)
 

*    *    *    *

Illusionist ideas

Dear Editor:
I was very interested in the articles you published
in DRAGON #66 concerning illusionists
and illusions. This class has been my favorite
for some time.

I want to comment on the way illusionist
spells are treated with respect to emulating
magic-user spells. In my group we have
adopted rules that we hold to be true for all
illusionary spells:

1. Illusionists can duplicate any spell
from the other spell user’s repertoire.
However, those spells with instantaneous
duration will have no effect.

2. The spells of an illusionist affect his
own party as well as a magic-user’s fireball
would

We decided that to be effective, the illusion
created must be seen and understood by the
victim. If, for example, a person had never
seen fire, he won’t know that it can hurt him.
This is already accepted in the AD&D rules.
Our addition was that if the illusion happens
too fast, it leaves no time for the person to be
caught up in it. Thus, illusions of magic missiles,
lightning bolts, and fireballs (to name a
few) just won’t work. The real magic-user has
the terrible reality of exploding fire that convinces
his victims. The illusionist would have
to slow the spell down for victims to see it, and
then they would know it’s not real because it
doesn’t look like a fireball any more. We like
that rule because it keeps the distinction between
magic-user and illusionist. (Editor’s
note: But what if the victim had newer seen a
fireball before?)

The second rule simply means that unless
people in the illusionist’s party know that he’s
going to do a certain illusion (or if they watch
him do it) they will be just as affected as
anyone else. My favorite example of this is an
illusionist who saved his own party when they
were trapped at the top of a deep chasm by an
angry army of evil creatures. The illusionist
directed them along the chasm to a small foot
bridge, which they all crossed in haste, without
question. Only after they reached the other
side and saw the bridge melt away did they
realize it was a mere illusion.

This brings up another point. If an illusion is
real enough to hurt someone, it is real enough
to be taken for “real” in all cases. In this sense
we have made the illusion absolutely real to
anyone who sees it and fails his save. Thus, an
illusionary cover over a pit trap will hold a
person up (until he disbelieves it). A few in my
group thought that this was going very far,
making it almost a philosophical concept.
However, I don’t feel that giving some creatures
automatic saves is right, either. If the
cover to the pit gave way, that would be tantamount
to what would be happening.

All this has the effect of making the illusionist
a very powerful, yet very fun, class. Instead
of being a simple magician throwing magic
right and left at the evil beasties, the illusionist
is a clever schemer who uses his illusions to
build some elaborate plots and subplots in the
minds of the unsuspecting. The illusionist becomes
more of a thinking character, but with
the higher intelligence that is granted in the
game, I feel that this is what the illusionist is
expected to do.
 

Geoff Meissner
Poughkeepsie, N.Y.
(Dragon #68)