DISCUSSING:
In the Shadow of the Spire – Session 23D: The Chaos Cultists
The end of the key seemed to be twisting and, looking more closely at it, Tee could see that it was actually made of innumerable pieces almost too small for the eye to see – they were constantly in flux, seeming to warp and twist and move in an almost impossible manner, as if their movement were not truly determined by the limitations of the natural world.
Tee was fascinated – almost enthralled – by the artifact. With delicate fingers she reached down and picked it up…
And felt a coldness rush up from her fingers and seem to bury itself in her soul. Despite the throbbing pain and waves of weakness emanating from the key, her curiosity could not be contained. She turned to the next chest, the one labeled “Mysteries of the Purple City”. Inserting the golden key carefully into the lock she turned it.
The lock opened with a satisfying click. But the pain and the cold intensified. Tee almost felt as if her soul were being ripped out through her. Her hand flew to her head and she sagged, nearly fainting where she stood.
“Tee!” Elestra cried. “Is everything alright?”
“I’m fine,” Tee said. “But I don’t think I should be using this key any more.” She slipped it into her bag of holding… but even there she could still feel its presence like a cold weight on her soul.
Dungeons & Dragons generally embraces a fairly simple binary when it comes to enchanted items: There are magic items, which are good. And there are cursed items, which are bad.
This dichotomy, of course, leaves out a fairly large middle ground. And it is, in fact, a middle ground that is occupied by many magic items in fantasy and mythology. Often these items are not simply a boon, but carry some price for their use: Tyrfing, the sword that would never rust or miss a stroke, but which was cursed to kill a man each time it was drawn. The Necklace of Harmonia which granted eternal youth and beauty, but also ill fortune. The Nine Rings given to mortal kings which grant immense power, but slowly transform their wielders into slaves of the Lord of the Rings.
Requiring a price to be paid for the power offered by a magic item can create interesting stories and also unique dilemmas for the wielders (or would-be wielders) of the items. Pathfinder introduced the Drawback curse, which was actually a collection of minor curses that could be applied to an item so that it could “usually still be beneficial to the possessor but carry some negative aspect.”
But you can push the concept farther than that by using the cursed price of a magic item to actually balance (or limit) abilities that would otherwise by unbalanced or undesirable for the PCs to possess.
You can see an example of such an item in the all-key found by the PCs in this session: The key (referred to by the players as Freedom’s Key based on the inscription of the chest they found it in) allows its user to open ANY lock that has a keyhole.
The narrative potential of this key is really interesting. But it’s also problematic because it would essentially excise an entire slice of game play: With the all-key, the PCs would never have to pick another lock or kick down another door.
Removing an entire facet of gameplay like this isn’t inherently problematic, but should be approached with caution. And that caution, in this case, is the price paid by the user of the all-key: Merely carrying the all-key inflicts negative levels, and additional negative levels are inflicted each time the key is used.
The intended result (and, in fact, what ends up happening in the campaign) is that the PCs can’t just carry the all-key around with them and whip it out for every lock they encounter: They need to tuck it away some place safe and only fetch it when they have great need for its power.
This not only keeps the lockpicking and key-finding aspects of a typical D&D generally intact, but it also makes each use of the all-key momentous: It requires a certain threshold of need to even consider using it, and then its use explicitly involves careful planning. Ironically, the all-key actually feels MORE powerful because of its limitations than an unfettered item with the same ability whose use would become a trivial bit of irreverent bookkeeping.
One of the risks of attempting to balance otherwise undesirable power with a price, however, is that such drawbacks can end up being highly situational and thus, with a little effort, easily avoided. This can be particularly true if you are drawing inspiration from fantasy and mythology, where the drawbacks of the items are often not only idiosyncratic, but would be non-mechanical when translated into D&D. Such limitations either put the weight on the DM to make them meaningful or, in some cases, are simply irrelevant to the PC who might get their hands on the item. (“Using the One Ring will slowly corrupt my soul and turn me into a Dark Lord?” said Sir Patrick ‘the Bloodstained Butcher’ Rasseroth. “That’s adorable.”)
Of course, if you’re designing an item for use in your own campaign, you can tailor its design to the PCs to make sure that the price will, in fact, be paid.
NEXT:
Campaign Journal: Session 23E – Running the Campaign: Diegetic Mechanics
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index
Your last bit about downsides not really being that bad for players is usually the problem I have with doing this kind of stuff. Even though this is a role playing game it can be hard to really get players to be cogzinent that something will be bad for the character, because the player won’t feel it.
I think your “lose a level” thing is good, but again has problems because if it’s too bad than the players will never use it really and so you have the opposite problem. I think it’s definitely tricky to find the balance between I don’t care about that consequence and that consequence is too high.
Jeremy Strandberg has an *excellent* structure for artifacts-with-a-price: see for example The Nhing Codex, The Azure Hand, and The Blood-quenched Sword. https://spoutinglore.blogspot.com/2020/10/major-arcana-nhing-codex.html
In my previous open table campaign I had the Hand and Eye of Vecna function like this. They each inflicted -2 Wisdom just for ‘adding’ to yourself, then each of their abilities cost further Wisdom. This was permanent.
A rogue was brave/foolish enough to use BOTH and had a short lived success with them. He saved a part from a TPK with a teleport (for 3 Wisdom), and saved a different party who got very much in over their heads by using disintegrate on a pair of vampires. The final disintegrate caused his Wisdom to reach 0, at which point I had the character change to an NPC and teleport away, becoming a villain.
The players loved it, especially the rogue who really embraced his ‘fall’.
Your point about the importance of the downside actually being something the players will object to reminds me of the memes about players who say “Ok, so lycanthropy gives me strength buffs and DR/silver at the cost of becoming an evil monster… ok, bite away!”
It also occurs to me that this kind of ties back into the point you raised earlier about antecedent magic and spells with odd gaps or limitations. D&D magic tends to be very convenient and polished, there aren’t a lot of costs or esoteric limitations. Which makes sense for a roleplaying game, especially one with D&D’s themes and feel, but it does cut you off from some very resonant story space. As Sanderson’s Second Law says, what a magic system *can’t* do is often more interesting than what it *can*. Adding some esoteric costs or peculiar limitations can really give your magic flavor and memorability.
I approve of things being irreverent! But in this case, I suspect you meant for the bookkeeping to be “irrelevant”, no?
It is a delicate balance to strike. Make a magic item too cursed, and it’s going to end up forgotten among all other ones. Make it almost not cursed, and it’s like the curse isn’t there. I’m considering just making all of the magic items from now cursed/costly in some way, maybe that could up the stakrs a bit.
Cool article, thank you for the inspiration!
@proph, yeah, a mild curse is just a drawback, and a mild drawback is just a side effect. But if the effect is interesting or entertaining, they’re all good in play.
A sword +1 is useful but unexciting.
A sword +1 that makes you grow hair like a werewolf is useful and funny. Maayybe sometimes it would count as a drawback, but who cares. It will still make your game more memorable.
A sword that lets you re-roll damage, if you (the wielder) take the first roll as a damage to yourself — that’s a new tactical option in combat. Doesn’t really matter if it’s not super powerful or super expensive.
You don’t have to worry too much about “striking a delicate balance”. Make stuff up that sounds cool. Let your players decide which bonuses are awesome and which costs are worth paying. It’s not like every piece of treasure should be equally good.