Alternate 8 First Level Spells

[The Red Baron]

Forget sleep and read languages. Every respectable magic-user should have these babies in his book.

1. The Excellent Prismatic Spray

2. The Spell of Forlorn Encystment

3. The Charm of Untiring Nourishment

4. Phandaal’s Gyrator Spell

5. The Spell of Omnipotent Sphere

6. Phandaal’s Mantle of Stealth

7. The Spell of the Slow Hour

8. The Call to the Violent Cloud

[monk]

Nice! I renamed all the spells to give em some more flavor. I really like the idea that the spell originated with a particular MU who used it all the time...thus, Knock is retitled "Ibrahim's Impertinent Entrance" after the wizard of the same name who routinely used it to "accidentally" walk in on folks.

[The Red Baron]

In all the dying earth stories, few spells are actually named after folks. The big exception here is Phandaal, who is famous for probably being the last great necromancer to formulate new spells.

Therefore I think its interesting that people tend to associate Vancian spells with spells named after folks. I think this actually originated from d&d, because Gary's players decided to name their spells after their magic-users, so there ended up being a lot of Melf's this and Mordenkainen's that in the AD&D PHB.

Note also that the above eight are not merely reskinned spells, but potent spells in their own right. Well-read persons are familiar with these eight spells, so I feel no obligation to go into further detail.

[monk]

My bad. I'm not that well-read.

[Admin Pete]

Jul 27, 2015 13:01:16 GMT -5 monk said:

My bad. I'm not that well-read.

Jul 26, 2015 22:47:33 GMT -5 The Red Baron said:

Well-read persons are familiar with these eight spells, so I feel no obligation to go into further detail.

Hmm! I don't have the Vance books handy, perhaps The Red Baron could provide a bit more detail for those that have not read the Vance books, which I would wager is the majority.

[The Red Baron]

The following excerpts are from Turjan of Miir, Mazirian the Magician, and The Eyes of the Overworld.

There is also reference to the Charm of Untiring Nourishment in a story from Rhialto the Marvellous, entitled Morrieon, wherein a magician employs the spell to sustain his person in the vacuum of space. A Temporal Stasis spell, probably identical to The Spell of the Slow Hour is employed repeatedly throughout Rhialto, and multiple precautions are taken by every magic-user to alert them to the usage of or prevent usage of this spell in their vicinity. I unfortunately cannot be bothered to look up these quotes from Rhialto right now as I have to go to work.

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The night was wearing on. A blue light wavered in the forest. Turjan watched a moment, then at last squared himself and uttered the Call to the Violent Cloud.
All was quiet; then came a whisper of movement swelling to the roar of great winds. A wisp of white appeared and waxed to a pillar of boiling black smoke. A voice deep and harsh issued from the turbulence.
"At your disturbing power is this instrument come; whence will you go?"
"Four Directions, then One," said Turjan. "Alive must I be brought to Embelyon."
The cloud whirled down; far up and away he was snatched, flung head over heels into incalculable distance.
Four directions was he thrust, then one, and at last a great blow hurled him from the cloud, sprawled him into Embelyon.
Turjan gained his feet and tottered a moment, half-dazed. His senses steadied; he looked about him.

So, uttering Phandaal's Mantle of Stealth, he faded from the sight of all men.... Some intuition or perhaps a charm warned Kandive when Turjan slipped through the purple hangings.... Kandive uttered a powerful charm which loosened space free of all warp. So Turjan's spell was void and he became visible.

Kandive made as if to obey, but instead shouted the syllables bringing the Omnipotent Sphere about him.
"Now I call my guards, Turjan," announced Kandive contemptuously, "and you shall be cast to the Deodands in the tank."
Kandive did not know the engraved band Turjan wore on his wrist, a most powerful rune, maintaining a field solvent of all magic. Still guarding his vision against the amulet, Turjan stepped through the Sphere. Kandive's great blue eyes bulged.
"Call the guards," said Turjan. "They will find your body riddled by lines of fire."
"Your body, Turjan!" cried the prince, babbling the spell. Instantly the blazing wires of the Excellent Prismatic Spray lashed from all directions at Turjan. Kandive watched the furious rain with a wolfish grin, but his expression changed quickly to consternation. A finger's breath from Turjan's skin the fire-darts dissolved into a thousand gray puffs of smoke.
"Turn your back, Kandive," Turjan ordered. "Your magic is useless against Laccodel's Rune."  But Kandive took a step toward a spring in the wall.
"Halt!" cried Turjan. "One more step and the Spray splits you thousandfold!"

The Deodand's lips curled mockingly. "Blind Magician! She has not left the glade." He pointed, and Mazirian followed the direction of the dead black arm. But he jumped back as the Deodand sprang. From his mouth gushed the syllables of Phandaal's Gyrator Spell. The Deodand was jerked off his feet and flung high in the air, where he hung whirling, high and low, faster and slower, up to the tree-tops, low to the ground. Mazirian watched with a half-smile. After a moment he brought the Deodand low and caused the rotations to slacken.
"Will you die quickly or slow?" asked Mazirian. "Help me and I kill you at once. Otherwise you shall rise high where the pelgrane fly."
Fury and fear choked the Deodand.
"May dark Thial spike your eyes! May Kraan hold your living brain in acid!" And it added such charges that Mazirian felt forced to mutter countercurses.
"Up then," said Mazirian at last, with a wave of his hand. The black sprawling body jerked high above the tree-tops to revolve slowly in the crimson bask of setting sun. In a moment a mottled bat-shaped thing with hooked snout swept close and its beak tore the black leg before the crying Deodand could kick it away. Another and another of the shapes flitted across the sun.
"Down, Mazirian!" came the faint call. "I tell what I know."
Mazirian brought him close to earth.
"She passed alone before you came. I made to attack her but she repelled me with a handful of thyle-dust. She went to the end of the glade and took the trail to the river. This trail leads also past the lair of Thrang. So is she lost, for he will sate himself on her till she dies."
Mazirian rubbed his chin. "Had she spells with her?"
"I know not. She will need strong magic to escape the demon Thrang."
"Is there anything else to tell?"
"Nothing."
"Then you may die." And Mazirian caused the creature to revolve at ever greater speed, faster and faster, until there was only a blur. A strangled wailing came and presently the Deodand's frame parted. The head shot like a bullet far down the glade; arms, legs, viscera flew in all directions.

Mazirian shook off the spell, if such it were, and uttered a spell of his own, and all the valley was lit by streaming darts of fire, lashing in from all directions to split Thrang's blundering body in a thousand places. This was the Excellent Prismatic Spray—many-colored stabbing lines. Thrang was dead almost at once, purple blood flowing from countless holes where the radiant rain had pierced him.

She ran down the shore, waded slowly out till the water circled her waist, then sank out of sight. She was gone.
Mazirian paused indecisively. It was not good to use so many spells and thus shear himself of power. What might exist below the lake? The sense of quiet magic was there, and though he was not at enmity with the Lake Lord, other beings might resent a trespass. However, when the figure of the girl did not break the surface, he uttered the Charm of Untiring Nourishment and entered the cool waters.
He plunged deep through the Lake of Dreams, and as he stood on the bottom, his lungs at ease by virtue of the charm, he marveled at the fey place he had come upon.

He called his charm, the Spell of the Omnipotent Sphere. A film of force formed around his body, expanding to push aside all that resisted. When the marble ruins had been thrust back, he destroyed the sphere, regained his feet, and glared about for the woman. She was almost out of sight, behind a brake of long purple kelp, climbing the slope to the shore. With all his power he set out in pursuit.

I have decided to apply the Charm of Forlorn Encystment, which constricts the subject in a pore some forty-five miles below the surface of the earth....Consulting the work-book, he encompassed the spell; then, pointing and naming Fianosther, he spoke the dreadful syllables.
But Fianosther, rather than sinking into the earth, crouched as before. Cugel hastily consulted the workbook and saw that in error he had transposed a pair of pervulsions, thereby reversing the quality of the spell. Indeed, even as he understood the mistake, to all sides there were small sounds, and previous victims across the eons were now erupted from a depth of forty-five miles, and discharged upon the surface.

[Admin Pete]

Jul 27, 2015 15:09:38 GMT -5 The Red Baron said:

The following excerpts are from Turjan of Miir, Mazirian the Magician, and The Eyes of the Overworld.

There is also reference to the Charm of Untiring Nourishment in a story from Rhialto the Marvellous, title Morrieon, wherein a magician employs the spell to sustain his person in the vacuum of space. A Temporal Stasis spell, probably identical The Spell of the Slow Hour is employed repeatedly throughout rhialto the marvellous, and multiple precautions are taken by every magic-user to alert them to the useage of or prevent usage of this spell in their vicinity. I unfortunately cannot be bothered to look up these quotes from Rhialto right now as I have to go to work.

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Thank you for posting these. The Red Baron I am curious, have you written any of your own along these lines?   Yeah, work does have its place. In my case in retirement is looming in the future a few years or so down the road(I hope).