So I’m watching an episode of my new favorite TV show, “The Librarians,” which is about a D&D adventuring party ….
(Oh, wait, I’m sorry — it’s really about these “librarians” — who fight bad magic on the side of good with John Laroquette offering sage advice from the sidelines.)
And in this episode they need to make a pentagram to ward off the magic of that nameless sorceress from Arthurian Britain (hope that isn’t too spoilery).
But hey, this is the modern world! How do you make a pentagram? Well, one of the librarians, armed with blue duct tape, paces the length out on the floor and uses the tape to denote the points of the star.
Well, I thought it was cool.
Anyway, the point is that the blue duct tape reminded me about chalk lines and how they can be one of those things that denote — even for nonarcanists in a party — the presence or use of magic.
For the GM, it can be useful when you need a party to recognize that magic is going on here. Chalk lines left behind denote a warding circle or a summoning charm — or even that most magical of magic — guidelines for magical engineering. (You don’t think those freemasons, long suspected of being spellcasters and secret-keepers, were creating buildings with trigonometry and geometry, did you?)
Wouldn’t it be cool for one of the PCs to be able to enter a room, and with the panache of a Sherlock Holmes, announce that this was the site of a magical battle?
“Well, see here. This circular chalk line indicates a magical ward, and where the line was scuffed indicates where the field was breached, and the scorch marks on the far wall, in a reverse silhouette of an orc’s head is a flame spell and these other spell components scattered about, they also represent spells cast hurriedly, as if in battle. It’s really quite elementary.”
Well, maybe that’s overdoing it a bit. (Those blood splatters on the floor were pretty telling, too). But having PCs recognize chalk as a telltale sign of magic can have its advantages. It’s a clue on the trail to the big evil one’s lair. It also tells them to prepare their own spellcasters, keying them in on what spells they might need to counter.
And nothing’s better than a chalk scrawl to say: “Watch your magical step! Big ley line right here!”
So, don’t forget to keep some chalk dust in your GM’s kit. You never know when you’ll need to sprinkle some out and leave a sign for your players.
*Achoo!*
Did I forget to mention I’m allergic to chalk dust? Oh well.
At my school, we moved to whiteboards and markers a few years ago. I miss the chalk terribly.
Though not the part where it got on my butt.
Serioulsy, nice article about how to telegraph certain things to your players, or to incorporate a signature style to your magic.
I batted erasers in my dad’s math classroom for years. A lot of magic lore is tied to all kinds of rocks and stone. Durable elements have a mystic quality.
It’s great to figure out specific cues to make explicit abstract things. Chalk dust and pentagrams screams occult, particularly when encountered in a modern setting.
Thankfully, Scott, Scooby and the gang won’t be scarred off by a little chalk dust.
I agreed with the premise, but preferred to use different materials. In my campaign we typically required silver dust for magic circles. Special spells might require the lines or runes to be made up of a particular kind of material – say colored sand, special wax, bone dust, etc.
If one used silver dust consider the implications. Finding only a few grains might mean that an apprentice cleaned up after the ritual. Finding much dust might give wonder why the creator left in a hurry, or what interrupted them. Etc… In keeping with your Sherlock Holmes theme.
http://gnotions.blogspot.com/
I love the idea of silver dust. Keeps the lycanthropes away!