#sword & sorcery

[niksrpgs]

Brand new #IronHeroes #Bestiary, a #d20 game by #MonteCook Presents, #SwordSorcery, now available with FREE SHIPPING! #ttrpg #originalprint #outofprint #NiksRPGs https://www.mercari.com/us/item/m19169570178?sv=0

[a-space-opera]

[eightiesfan]

[pikala]

The forest parts and the sword glows. Do you take it or leave it be?

[atomic-chronoscaph]

Fire and Ice - art by Sanjulián (2020)

[prokopetz]

Could I ask where dungeons of the kind in D&D came about? Like they’re a cultural icon now, but I don’t understand their origins very well

The dungeon crawl is a pretty standard trope in 1960s and 1970s sword and sorcery fiction and its near ancestors. A lot of ink has been spilled about how Dungeons & Dragons has become so creatively insular that it's basically emulating itself, and while there's some truth to that, the claim that dungeon crawls are part of that is a misconception. That bit is lifted more or less directly from the contemporary literature which original flavour D&D was inspired by – modern commentators tend to miss that because nobody reads sword and sorcery anymore. If you look at Fritz Leiber, Jack Vance, Robert Howard, you'll see dungeon crawls aplenty; Conan the Barbarian* went on not a few!

Of course, that just kicks the can down the road a bit: if Dungeons & Dragons got the dungeon crawl from 1960s and 1970s sword and sorcery fiction, where did they get it from? That's a question I'm less qualified to address, since literary history isn't my area. I know there are several students of early to mid 20th Century popular fiction following this blog, though; perhaps a qualified party can weigh in?

* Yes, I'm aware that Conan the Barbarian was 1930s; I'm including him in the "near ancestors" of 1960s sword and sorcery fiction

[theshunbun]

Russet ready to be summoned ♡♡♡

[doomreturn]

[vosus]

Ashrahi, of Flame

Mark Jarrell

markjarrellart.com

[armouredelf]

[curtvilescomic]

cover art for Doomed Operator by Alexey Gorboot

[niksrpgs]

#Ravenloft #ChampionsOfDarkness #D20 for (3e-3.5e), #DungeonsAndDragons, now available with FREE SHIPPING! #dnd #ttrpg #swordsorcery #originalprint #outofprint #NiksRPGs https://www.mercari.com/us/item/m61963201848?sv=0

[a-space-opera]

[omercifulheaves]

Art by Alexey Gorboot

[domjordanillustration]

career-ending injury

[sunderwight]

Random thought but:

Those wide-brimmed pointy hats that witches and wizards are often depicted wearing are for traveling, right? That's what the brim is for, to protect from the sun and other elements. But the pointy part is probably ceremonial -- historically speaking most conical hats are often worn by priests or nobility to signify rank or role.

But sometimes in fantasy settings, wizard hats don't have the brim. But witches almost never lose the brim.

This indicates to me a shared origin between wizards and witches as traveling practitioners of magic. Which makes sense! If you only get a few magical people in a community, either because magical talent is rare or because it takes a lot of study to pick it up or both, then most magically inclined people would probably be in high demand. Which would mean that there was a lot of call for them to travel around and provide their services to place too poor or remote or unlucky to have their own resident magical practitioner.

But gradually, a divide begins to occur. Formally educated magical users are of course most commonly found in cosmopolitan regions (big cities) and can afford to stay in one place for a lot longer. Perhaps even exclusively, if the community is large enough to support them! So as more great cities establish themselves and also establish things like larger and better-funded academic institutions, a class of non-wandering magic user begins to grow. This group, i.e. wizards, signal their greater access to formal education and to wealthy patrons by dropping the brim from their hats. They keep the conical shape and height, to denote status and rank, but they get all bougie about the brim. Other attempts to flaunt success among wizards emphasize the lack of need to travel for work, such as building magnificent magical towers, positioning themselves in the courts of nobility, or building entire academic institutions dedicated to the study of the arcane arts.

Meanwhile rural communities still require the services of magically inclined people, but can no longer afford to entice wizards away from their status-defining sedentary lifestyle. Thus another class of magic user (witches) begins to define itself by their continued existence and work outside of major population centers. Since witches still travel and live in the countryside, their hats keep the brim, because they still need it to protect them from the elements.

This also explains the gender differential. While magical talent probably doesn't operate on the basis of gender, classism sure does. Girls born into wealthier families are often slated for marriage alliances and encouraged to treat formal education as an opportunity for husband-hunting, rather than actually becoming adept in or engaging with the professional use of magic itself. Which doesn't mean that none of them do it anyway, but there's probably a more marked difference between women who become wizards and men who do. Especially as wizards become more preoccupied with social status, and thus more likely to gate off access to certain levels of education, so that only either the extremely wealthy or the extremely talented can get at them. If a girl's family doesn't want to go to all the trouble of paying for a full education or compelling a skilled teacher to take her on, her options for pursuing it on her own are probably quite limited.

Meanwhile out in the sticks, magic users are such rarities that gatekeeping on the basis of gender is frankly too impractical, especially considering the degree of utility magic has for saving lives and livelihoods. It's just not that feasible to give a shit about the gender of the spellcaster who is saving your entire sheep flock from a bad case of bluetongue, or holding up a barrier that's keeping a recent landslide from burying your house, or getting the ghosts out of a local well that you'd really love to be able to actually use.

So over time witches become associated with women, even though it's more that they've got a 50/50 split whereas wizards heavily favor men. In the way of things, this actually become a self-fulfilling prophecy over time, because men who develop magical aptitude see witchery as "women's work" and are more likely to try and save up and move to the city to learn "real" magic, or else try and differentiate themselves from female witches by creating their own distinctions between what they do and what women spellcasters do, carving out particular areas of focus to be the masculine fields of magic.

This would probably create even more distinct classes of magical users -- the male witches who still do the usual magic work in rural regions but don't like to be called witches, and so do something else to distinguish themselves in an equivalent of stamping a No Girls Allowed sign on their door (warlocks?), who probably still keep the wide brim on their hats but perhaps ditch the pointy part in a middle finger to the elitism of wizards (and also to ensure they're less likely to be mistaken for witches), and the magically talented people who make their way from the country to the nearest cities to try and join the wizard class. Though this group is more likely to struggle due to a lack of social or financial clout, and probably has to depend way more on having enough sheer natural talent to draw the eye of a benefactor (sorcerers?). Most of them would be men too, because of increasing social attitudes that men were just better at this "type" of magic would mean that women would have a harder time getting backing, but there would probably be some who were ambitious enough to nevertheless go for it and then end up in a related-but-still-gendered category of their own (sorceresses?).

Because classism, it seems likely that these underdog country-to-city spellcasters (probably also joining in with impoverished but talented locals to the metropolitan areas too) don't get the pointy hats unless they manage to actually succeed in being absorbed by wizard establishments, but also don't keep the brimmed hats because those are associated with being a bumpkin. They're hat-less, or else wear a completely different style. They probably also get a bit of a shady reputation because there are a lot of predatory institutions that scoop up magically talented individuals who don't know how to navigate the relevant social institutions, and then basically embroil them in debt or whatnot in order to exploit whatever magical talent they have for whatever profits are to be gained.

Of course you probably also have the opposite class of people, i.e. formally trained magic users who decide that trying to rub elbows with kings and rich people is stupid, and take their training to go off and save villages from mudslides and such instead. They're basically witches again but with a fancier pedigree, but of course coming from the outside of it they lack the community knowledge to navigate regions as well and also now there's this split from the Boy Witches Who Won't Be Called Witches, and probably what counts as Girl Magic gets very regional, so what jobs you do or how you go about casting spells has an irregular impact on what the locals will call you if you aren't a woman. If you're a woman you can probably take the witch label without as much issue. But since the fellas started as wizards, then, they more likely still call themselves wizards in the face of all this, but the big city wizards do NOT want to be associated with them (unless they do something really impressive that they can share credit for), so there has to be a new category for them (hedge wizards?) to differentiate from proper wizards. Anyway they wear the big brimmed hats again, because that's just practical. Whether they wear tall ones or not probably varies between individual and regional implications about it.

So. Yeah. Magic user hat politics, with bonus gender nonsense.