So Pages from the Mages is a weird little book - 128 pages of spellbooks, new spells, magic items, etc. It started life in the pages of Dragon Magazine as a series of articles (cleverly called "Pages from the Mages", "More Pages from the Mages", etc.) This .PDF copy I'm looking back on used to be available for free, back in the days when Wizards of the Coast put up about half of AD&D in their publicly accessible archives. Then something happened and they started charging money for things, and then everything was taken down for piracy, and I don't fucking know. Anyway.
The year is 1995, and reddish-brown ink is in. It's about the only color in the book aside from the covers, and I'm actually cool with keeping things in black and white.
Ed starts off with a rambling introduction by way of Elminster; the creepy old man vibe hasn't hit very hard yet so the queasiest line is about a spellbook tattooed on the back of a large manservant. Which is probably as good of an introduction to the book as any: this is a sourcebook for...actually, I'm not sure about the specific audience, most of this stuff would have to be placed by Mister Cavern, but players are the ones that clamor over new spells and shit, so probably they'd buy it then bug the shit out of their MC to go after it? I vaguely recall some NPCs were statted out with spells from this books, but not many, so that can't be it...anybody in D&D that has ever given vague thought to the idea that writing is not limited to books, and wizards use writing to record magic.
There isn't actually any chapter headings, just section headings. The first couple sections tackle spellbook generics, why someone not from Greyhawk would call it Bigby's Squeezing Fist, etc. It's a bizarre mix of general rules, guidelines, and Realmslore (yes, I said it, fuck you). For example:
None of this stuff is sectioned off in any way, of course. As was quite common during the day, they just threw mechanics right into the middle of the text.The size of these rare books is usually measured in “hands.” A “hand,” or “handwidth,” is about 3½ inches, a measurement based on the size of the delicate hand of the scholar Aleric.
I'm on page six, and I need to take a moment to describe the layout of this book. It's a two-column format sandwiched in between a header (some bizarrely primitive thing involving pseudo-Celtic knotwork, characters that look vaguely Arabic and Asian, and pseudo-Egyptian eye-of-Horus type things), and a footer (more pseudo-knotwork). When they run out of works, they tend to fill in the whitespace with black-and-white scribbles. I'm staring at the version on page six - the entire right-hand column is a sketch of a tower - and this shit would not pass muster in today's gaming world. Also, for some reason it looks uncomfortably phallic. Like, more than towers should. I think it's because it bulges in the middle a bit.
Anyway, onto the books! Each book gets its own page(s), which describe it's appearance, history, and contents. Sometimes this is a couple paragraphs, sometimes this is a couple pages. Then any "rare" or "unique" spells from the book are statted out.
The first book is Against the Undead, and a couple things are obvious. First off, each of these spells are a unique snowflake, with a couple paragraphs of effects. If there is any rhyme or reason to the dice number/types/bonuses in the mechanics, I'm not seeing them. For example, one spell Ward Against Undead includes the line:
What? Save vs. breath weapon? Man, I totally forgot about those. Why is that here? Why not save vs. spell? No one knows.Undead must successfully save vs. breath weapon in order to enter the warded area; those failing the saving throw cannot enter.
To say some of these spells are hideously specific is an understatement; but it sort of underlines a subtextual philosophy in AD&D: not all players/options/spells/etc. are created equal. There's a lot of room for suck and awesome within a given character level in AD&D. You can totally be a 20th-level caster and still be shackled with crap spells.
Page 9 (The Alcaister) and introduces new uses for the cantrip spell. Because in AD&D you memorized the spell cantrip and then chose any minor little effect when you cast it. So one of the things Ed does during this book to fluff things out is give some ideas of what cantrip can do. You have to think some people really wanked hard to that kind of thing back in the day - probably the guys that spent a lot of time at first level fucking about with cantrips. The sad thing is, things start off reasonably well with the extra applications in The Alcaister and go rapidly downhill from there.
I'd like the emphasize that last bit. If you required a week of study for a cantrip in modern gaming, your players would cut out your heart and mail it to WotC, where it would be redeemed for free packs of Spellfire.The two pages about the cantrip spell discuss its applications for cutting thin rope (up to ½ inch thick), disrupting a spellcaster’s concentration (if a saving throw vs. spell is failed) and creating a surge of adrenaline that doubles the movement rate of a creature touched for one round (this ends the cantrip spell immediately). All of these effects are accompanied by a small shower of sparkling blue light. Any mage who knows the cantrip spell can learn one special application per week of study.
I'm not gong to go over each book individually, let's just hit some highlights.
Page 12 - this could be a long review - the spell Prismatic Eye is just a really strange thing. It's a 6th-level spell that creates a small magical construct identical to a Wizard Eye except it shits out color spray every four rounds. Not only does that mean you have to refer to at least two books whenever this spell is cast, it's primary purpose is to create something that can cast a 1st-level spell every four rounds. You'd be better off calling up a demon with summon monster VI. However, bonus points are awarded for actually mentioning a non-combat use for this thing - it can be commanded to produce light. Then again, you're using a 6th-level spell with duration of 1 round/level to take the place of a fucking torch.
Page 18 - The mage Shangalar killed a thief called Athchos the Black, and afterwards started calling himself Shangalar the Black. Okay then. That's as good a reason as any. Really, I see nothing wrong with this practice; I'm thinking of adding it to my game right now!
The Book of the Silver Talon introduces the idea of spell variants, which is probably a bad idea in AD&D and never really caught on - things like slightly different material components (remember those) that make a spell suck slight less/harder, or change the level and casting time (man - segments, I'd forgotten about those) and even part of the effect but keep the same name.
And of course this is where Ed introduces some scroll ink recipes. Because this is old-school AD&D, where maybe you wanted to know where your gold pieces were going when you were buying magic ink ingredients, or maybe you wanted to cut out the middle man and make them yourself. These too, did not catch on, probably because D&D had hundreds of spells by this point and each of these is a shopping list and I-shit-you-not recipe. Some of them for spells you probably wouldn't want a scroll of anyway. For example:
If I gave my players a scroll of write I would be flayed alive over a period of days.Write
1 ounce giant octopus ink
1 pinch graphite
1 drop of the writer’s blood
1 basilisk eye
1 whole plant (including roots), lady’s mantle
Chop up the basilisk eye and the plant together, cover in a crucible, and burn to ash over a slow fire of seaborne drift wood or acorns. Add the graphite to the ink, and then the ash. Stir once with a wooden spoon or rod and then add the drop of blood. Cover quickly, shake, and let stand in full moonlight for a night. When employing the spell, the desired writing must be copied with a special ink. Thurl says there are at least four known formulas for this ink; the intent is to create a neutral ink receptive to a dweomer so as to capture the essence of a spell.
The following ingredients will produce ink sufficient to write one spell, and the ingredients may be increased proportionally; add extra owl’s eyes, spikenard, and ichor, but the quantities for sand, water, mistletoe, lead, and the gems other than the sapphires, remain the same.
1 ounce giant octopus ink
½ ounce ichor of slithering tracker
1 owl eye
3 blue-green sapphires, as large and as fine as possible
1 ruby (deep crimson)
1 piece of jet
1 piece of obsidian
1 spikenard (root)
1 pinch of sand
1 drop of water
½ ounce of lead
1 sprig of mistletoe
Boil the spikenard, mistletoe, and owl eye in the ichor over a blazing fire. Pulverize and add the lead and the gems when the mixture is at a full boil, in the following order: sapphires, jet, lead, obsidian, and ruby, sprinkling each over the full surface of the boiling mixture. Take the mixture from the flames, stir in the giant octopus ink, and allow to cool uncapped in a windy place. Then add the sand and water, and allow the container to stand for a full day and night, making sure it is exposed both to brilliant sunlight and bright moonlight.
Page 28 - the spell Spell Invulnerability is supposed to be all-powerful but comes across as useless. It renders the individual completely immune to one specific spell, spell-like ability, or non-artifact item - fair enough. Except we're talking really, really specific. Example:
Page 32 - The Collected Wisdom of Snilloc includes a bunch of magic missle variants. It's like Ed sensed that he really wanted some sort of spell creation system but just couldn't write one for AD&D.Invulnerability to a long sword +1 makes the character invulnerable to all such swords (they will pass through him harmlessly, since they do not exist). A short sword +1 or a long sword +1, +4 vs. reptiles will affect the spell’s recipient normally.
Page 35 - The last line in the entry for Daltim's Flaming Fist:
Daltim's Tome of Fire, where said spell comes from, is a bit weird. Obviously, it's a place where Ed dumped all his fire-related spells and magics. Including the bizarre spell Unburn, which undoes fire damage but also removes rust, because rust is just a slow form of oxidation. That's a moment of brilliance that should have a half-hour advery by Billy May, high on cocaine and in a blue robe unburning the shit out of rusty swords and things.This spell is not to be confused with Malec-Keth’'s flame fist
from the Tome of Magic.
Then, for reasons beyond immediate understanding, Ed went ahead and declared Daltim was also a psionic wild talent and included a section on enchanting psionic items and the Detect Psionics spell. Which one would think was something for the Dark Sun setting.
Page 45 - Darsson's Potion is actually a spell I can kind of get behind. You cast Darsson's Potion on a vial of water, then another spell, and you get a temporary potion that grants that spell's effects on whoever drinks it within the next (level) number of hours. That's very handy. It would make buffs a hell of a lot quicker in some cases. Of course then Ed fucks with it by adding various rules and stipulations, but I like the idea.
Page 49 is a full-color picture of a fat, balding, white-bearded wizard turning a unicorn into a lizard...or vice versa. In either case, what is this I don't even.
Elminster's Traveling Spellbook is slightly weird - it's a cube of marble that grows four little legs and then runs around trying to get people to read it. There's a picture of it on page 54 running up to a lizardman wielding a can opener and a warrior-woman, and that thing is just freaking them the fuck out.
Yes, the spellbook bearing his name does bear some extra special Elminster fapping - specifically, a customized contingency spell designed to make him harder to kill. Which I think argues that Ed realized many people would try, given the slightest opportunity.
I'm skipping all of the spellbook descriptions and history, but there is an important lesson here for anyone interested in writing for RPGs - how to provide enough detail to make it look like something is part of a fully-fleshed out setting with a long, evocative history. It more or less hangs together, but really it's all about dropping proper names and writing narrative descriptions - Ed Greenwood could make a Maytag washing machine seem like a unique product rescued from the lair of evil sorcerer-mechanics by courageous Sears salesmen, and it could be yours for only $499.99.
Pages 64-5 stat out a new monster, the Tome Guardian, in the old Monstrous Manual/Compendium format. I miss that format.
Page 66 - Krystian's Mysteries contain a couple interesting items. First up is the spell Undead Familiar - which, if it didn't start off the trend for such things, was a major step in contributing towards it - and the 8th level spell Evolve (which reminds me a lot of [url=http://drstrange.nl/drstrange/sanctum/b ... ople01.htm]this[/url). I think evolve is basically a joke, like mutation in the TMNT RPG, because everything "evolves" towards a humanoid form. Then there's lifeblend, which can equally explain centaurs and owlbears. 'nuff said.
Page 75 - The Magister - before this was the Sorcerer Supreme position of Ed's Forgotten Realms, it was a book. The bottom half of the page breaks the two-column format to give us three fantasy alphabets. Why? Because fuck you, that's why.
Page 79 - Before there were magic weapon properties per se...well, there were still magic weapon properties, but the whole enchanting business was really rough compared to D&D 3.+. This page includes an entry for proficient weapons, which are weapons that...you are magically proficient with. Which seems weird, but I guess fulfills a need, kinda. I guess there should be a cursed example where you only think you're proficient with it, right up until you fumble and cut your knackers off.
Page 80 - Warm Brick
There's a lot of logical problems with this thing - I keep trying to imagine what happens if you convince a frost giant to eat it or something - but this is the kind of utilitarian magic that is both reasonable for a magical civilization and almost completely useless for adventurers, which is why it was mostly dropped from D&D. Of course, other items include the Magical Deodorizer on page 81, a rare item worth 5,000 gp - that's more expensive than a peasant's farm, including when you've sold the entire family into slavery.Warm Brick
XP Value: 200 GP Value: 1,000
Because her castle was dank and cold, a clever young enchantress created an item to keep the chill from her bones. Warm bricks are simply that—bricks that radiate heat. They are generally about 1'x1'x2' and weigh almost 50 pounds. A single brick radiates enough heat to warm everything within a 10-foot radius, maintaining a temperature of 65 to 70 degrees, depending on weather conditions (the colder the day, the warmer the brick). Warm bricks are activated only by cold, so they remain inert when the natural air temperature is above 60 degrees. A number of these magical bricks placed strategically throughout a castle keeps it quite cozy.
Yadda yadda spells, art, critters, poisons, glyphs, yadda yadda.
Pages 105-7 - Ed's Big Necromancy tome Studies in Death is sort of a dry run for a lot of stuff that would show up later in his Cult of the Dragon sourcebook. Now, granted that some undead were scarier in AD&D because of the permanent level loss and all that, but most of the undead you could raise and command in any quantity were mindless zombies and skeletons - and even getting a good number of those guys together was a logistical nightmare, never mind pimping them out with empowerment spells like Imbue Undead With Spell Ability, so it's all Mister Cavern waving his hands anyway.
Page 117 - Ed, scraping the bottom of the barrel, provides us with Tym's Monstrous Book, which is neither a spellbook or, really, much of a book. It's a loose collection of documents on different magical beasties - basically, an excuse to use the Monstrous Compendium sheets as in-game handouts. This is followed up by the entry for the Disenchanter monster on page 118. At the end of the ecology section for said beastie is:
Ghost dammit, this used to be important. Player characters would launch hunts for specific critters just to kill them and take their parts to get a specific magic item out of it. HackMaster actually enshrined this idea by adding a "Yields" field to their monster entry. It is at once silly (why do I need a pound of fire salamander vomit to make a wand of fireballs?) and nicely granular. I miss it, a little.The creature’s essence is purported to be useful in ink for scrolls, and might be used for the fabrication of a rod of cancellation.
There are a number of quasi-proto-metamagic spells here. Y'know, spells that primarily effect other spells, or are about fucking with spells. Things like the spell engine, spelltrap, and spellstrike. This is more stuff that Ed would elaborate on some time later, and which would eventually work its way into being metamagic feats in D&D3.+. Weird to see the evolution.
The book ends with a bunch of tables listing where shit can be found. Again, this sort of thing used to be more important in the days before the internet really got into the swing of things.
Which really, is sort of a description for the book as a whole. I can't imagine Pages from the Mages or its cleric-sequel Prayers for the Faithful being published today, at least not in that format - I don't think anyone would buy it. The spells are too arbitrary and spread out throughout the book, the thin veneer of history and fluff that is the whole excuse for the book would be cast off like the rind of a dead fruit. It was a weird little product for its time, and I enjoyed it, but looking back reminds me how utterly bizarre and primitive gaming was back in the days when Magic: the Gathering was black-bordered.
