Hekate's Shadow

 

“The safest road to hell is the gradual one—the gentle slope, soft underfoot, without sudden turnings, without milestones, without signposts.”

-C.S. Lewis, The Screwtape Letters

What makes “dark magic” bad? The idea that some supernatural abilities are inherently evil is a trope that shows up in all kinds of media, from space opera (the Dark Side of the force) to epic fantasy (the One Ring, necromancy). 

But why exactly are these powers taboo? In many cases the answer leans heavily on the rules of the supernatural system at work. In the Lord of the Rings, use of the rings of power opens the wearer’s mind to domination by Sauron. The Dark Side of the force requires giving in to hatred and anger. The power is shunned because its requirements, or its magical consequences, are something to be avoided.

Magical consequences—that’s a crucial idea. In many cases it’s not the abilities themselves that are evil, the evil comes from what it takes to access them. Think of the powers that only Sith can use in the Star Wars universe: Force lightning? Force healing? Nothing particularly evil about that. Sure, the lightning isn’t useful for anything except violence, but don’t the Jedi spend an awful lot of time training with laser swords? (And using mind control… more on that later)

Contrast this framework with something like necromancy. In some fiction, raising the undead corrupts a wizard directly, but not always. Instead, the reason this particular form of magic is so reviled is because of what it does. Disturbing the rest of a corpse offends broadly-held human ideals of the sacred, along with violating cleanliness taboos. You don’t need to add any extra spiritual consequences or magical mutation: the nature of the power and the morality of the power are intertwined.

I think this second form of dark magic is much more interesting from a TTRPG standpoint. Lots of games play around with the first form: corruption points, a sanity meter, consequences if you cast too many forbidden spells, etc. That sort of thing falls flat for me. 

In fiction, you can make up for the disconnect between effect and morality with scene dressing: this ritual involves pentagrams, chanting, and dark robes, so of course it’s evil. Aesthetics don’t provide quite as much cover at the table. Players start to wonder: how come the druid can summon a wolf to the fight with no problem, but if I summon an imp to do the same I’m risking my immortal soul? Isn’t the enchanter’s mind control a lot more questionable than my blood-magic tracking ritual?

People choose evil because it’s the easy way to power. In the real world, as in fiction, it’s much simpler to achieve your goals if you care about nothing else and no one else. As Lex Luthor says of Superman: “He has morals. He has ethics. He is unrelentingly good. Because of that, I will win.” In the space of all possible actions, morality and power are anticorrelated, because morality constrains action space. 

Let’s think about magic in the same way. “Evil” spells are so not because of any second-order consequences, but simply because of what they do. Necromancy is one example. Mind-control is another. Good gravy, what a violation! To reach into someone’s brain, the last private bastion of the self, and grab the reins? I’d be right there in the crowd with the torch and pitchforks.

The best dark magic for a TTRPG is tempting because it’s an easy way to power. What if killing someone with magic is one of the easiest spells to learn, but it immolates their soul and denies them the afterlife? What if permanent mind control requires only a night’s work (this is where orcs come from, btw).

Players are usually willing to avoid “evil” magic when it’s clearly labeled by the system. “This spell gives corruption points? No thanks, I don’t want to turn into a tentacle monster.” When the label is in-fiction only, things get more… interesting. “This spell is widely considered an abomination? What does that mean in game terms? Nothing?!? Of course I cast it!”

Be careful when playing around with game world ethics. Definitely talk out the themes involved during your Session Zero, and have robust safety tools in place before you start highlighting the moral implications of magic—especially existing spells from well-known systems. The reason it’s possible to have fun with Charm Person is precisely because we don’t think about how horrifying it is, or how much therapy the victim—and they are very much a victim—would need afterwards. Keep in mind also that even if one player is very enthusiastic about exploring in this direction, the others may not be.

Still, “dark magic as the easy road” is a powerful tool when used correctly. When the party is down and out, surrounded and on their last legs, will they give up and keep their consciences clean? Or will they grasp at whatever power they can, even if the memories will haunt them for the rest of their lives? Perhaps wicked deeds can serve the greater good. Does that help them sleep at night? Is it any consolation when the hard-eyed peasants bind them to a stake?

The worldbuilding possibilities are just as rich. How does society treat mages if a ten-year-old can kill a man with a snap of his fingers? What if he can destroy a village? A kingdom? N.K. Jemisin explores this idea in depth in her Broken Earth trilogy, but there’s no reason a TTRPG Narrator can’t do the same. Wizard towers are hermitages to signal their distance from populated areas, and fortresses for when the locals decide they’re not far enough. Orcs are the degenerate form of a mind-controlled servant: repellant yes, but oh so terribly convenient.

Perhaps there are also spells that twist the caster’s mind and warp their body. Incantations that drag one’s soul directly down to hell. But where’s the fun in that?