Cromagh Answers!
June 1, 2003
Dear Cromagh,
I am an accomplished adventuring wizard who has been traveling with a group of like-minded individuals clearing out an area surrounding a settlement of the local brigands and bandits.
The problem I am having is that the rest of the group tends to want me to cast spells on them before we get into a combat situation to "buff" them up, or even if I have any spells available when we do come across the unlucky brigands they expect me to stay in the back and provide "fire support".
I would really like to get involved with some close-in combat, they are only bandits after all...I don't carry this enchanted flaming sword for nothing, and I don't see the harm in the "wizard" mixing it up with some brigands.
Should I?
- Refuse to cast anymore prepatory spells on the rest of the group, save them for myself..."buff up", charge into melee and let those rotten bandits have it.
- Incinerate the next person who suggests I "stay behind them" and do the same thing as above...
- Challenge the best self-proclaimed "fighter" to a one on one melee battle..."buff" myself up and kick the snot out of him to prove that I can handle a sword.
Sincerely,
Mathias Zander (Adventuring Wizard/Closet Frontline Fighter)
Mathias:
Pff. Typical wizard. "Why do I have to stay in the back?" "Why does everybody expect me to help them?" "Why don't girls like me?" "Me, me, me." Pathetic.
Cromagh thinks that maybe—just maybe—your companions got the idea that you were useless in a fight from all those times early in your adventuring career when you were savaged by kobolds and stirges. Don't bother trying to deny it. You ran out of spells and you looked at all the kobolds, and you looked at that little dagger on your belt, then at the kobolds again, and then at the dagger again, and you got that feral gleam in your eye, and you charged into combat. Didn't you? Oh, yes. And do you remember what happened, when you went charging up to that kobold, shrilling your battle cry with your little metal toothpick in hand?
That's right. That kobold slapped you around like a schoolgirl and got blood all over your pointy little wizard hat. And Cromagh is betting that kobold held you down and dangled kobold loogies in your face and threatened to take your lunch money, didn't he?
And the party's fighter had to drop what he was doing and run over and finish off the kobold before it killed you and put on a puppet show with your corpse. "Hi, boys and girls! I'm Swifty—the fighting wizard! And these are my magic entrails!"
And the party's cleric had to drop what he was doing and run over and stuff all your guts back in and cast healing spells to glue you back together. Didn't he? And he shook his head a lot, and though he didn't say it, he was thinking, "This reminds me of that time that Grandad tried to use the outhouse, instead of the bedpan, and he fell down in his own filth, and he broke his hip, and I had to clean him up. Actually, that was more fun than this."
So the answer is, despite all your wizard intellect, that their memories are longer than yours. They remember that you're really pathetic in hand-to-hand combat, even when you forget.
"But they're just brigands! They're just bandits!" NO. They're kobolds, and you're that overconfident little three-spell wizard again. Okay, you've got a magic flaming sword. Okay, you've got spells that make you stronger, and faster, and able to withstand more damage. But, since Cromagh is guessing you've also got spells that turn brigands and bandits into steaming heaps of blackened flesh that smells tantalizingly like overcooked bacon, Cromagh would have to say that you've also got "new sword syndrome."
Never heard of it? Cromagh sees it all the time. Somebody gets a neat new weapon—a sword, an axe, a mace, a shiv they made out of a spoon in the metal shop—and they can't wait to try it out. Cromagh bets that, when you got that magic flaming sword, the first thing you did was take a few whacks at the trees, the grass, the shrubs, all of that sort of stationary opponent, just to see how quickly and easily the flaming blade cut through them. And when the trees and grass and shrubs didn't kick your scrawny wizard butt, you decided that you were ready for some foe that fought back. Right?
But get out your hanky, because here comes the sad part. Your adventuring companions don't share your joie de shiv, do they? So you've got that handy-dandy electric butter knife just burning a whole in your scabbard—maybe literally—but your buddies are afraid that someone's going to take it away from you and use it to make wizard-butt shish kebab. Not that they can't kill off the would-be cook, or that they'll have to apply some ointment to the affected area. No, they're not even afraid that they'll have to suck the poison out of the wound.
Nope, your friends are afraid that they won't be able to stop laughing at you.
"Hey, Mathias! Got a light? *Snicker!*"
"Gee, Mathias, I thought you were going to give up smoking. *Chortle!*"
"Say, Mathias... is the flame always blue like that? *Titter!*"
"Man! I bet it just burns your ass, doesn't it, Mathias? *Guffaw!*"
And they would keep going in that vein, making you the... mmph... butt of their jokes—it's what Cromagh would do, anyway—until you got so steamed... heh... that you refused to ever cast buffing spells on them again. And then they'd have to be your... bwah-hah!... your fire support!
So ... hoo ... anyway ... Cromagh thinks you should just skip the whole flaming colonic thing—and the attendant long, drawn-out, high-pitched scream. (Just thinking about it is making Cromagh's eyes water, anyway.) Just jump right in! They say, "Mathias! Cast bull's strength on me!" and you say, "Damn the buffing spells! Do you want to live forever? Charge!" And then just run right into the midst of the enemy. Cromagh virtually guarantees that you'll be the first one in the combat (and probably the first one out, too, but that's beside the point). And when it's all over, your comrades will either have a newfound respect for you, or they'll have an everburning torch that doesn't take up any chakra they've ever even dreamed of using!
Either way, they'll never be able to look at you in the same light again.
Cromagh
Cromagh and JD Wiker are the authors of Cromagh's Guide to Goblinoids, now available on RPGNow.com.
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