Evil

Let love be genuine; abhor what is evil, hold fast to what is good — Romans 12:9

The other day, James reflected on Bram Stoker's Dracula. He observed:

I can't help but feel disappointment at the way the archetype of the vampire has been so watered-down and indeed neutered of the power it packed in Stoker's day. I think there's still a lot of punch left in vampires but most of that punch comes from contemplating their status as thralls of Hell (whether literally or metaphorically) rather than as forever-young demigods.

In the discussion that followed, I made this particular comment:

Rather than a symbol of our own alienation, our recent love affair with vampires, serial killers and even zombies is a symptom of our own inability to distinguish good from evil.

Based on the comments that followed, I think it useful to actually look at what the word evil means, especially from a scriptural point of view.

There are a couple of ways to go about defining evil. The first is to look at the words in Scripture that mean "evil." In Greek they are poniros and kakos. Poniros derives from the Greek word for "pain" and has been used as a title for the devil — "the Evil One." In fact, this is the word used in the last line of the Lord's Prayer and can be and has been translated as both "evil" and "the Evil One." Kakos simply means "bad" and is less significant to the Scriptural understanding of evil than the words adikia (wrong-doing, injustice) and amartia (sin).

Note that both adikia and amartia have the prefix of "a," indicating an absence of something — adikia meaning an absence of righteousness or justice and amartia meaning missing the mark. This suggests that an apophatic approach — looking at what evil is not — might actually be more useful than looking at poniros and kakos themselves.

• Good and upright is the Lord — Psalm 25:8
• O taste and see tat the Lord is good — Psalm 34:8
• Give thanks to Him; praise His name; for the Lord is good; His mercy is everlasting — Psalm 100:4-5
• Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good, For his mercy endures forever — Psalm 106:1; 107:1; 118:1, 29; 136:1
• Praise the Lord, for the Lord is good — 135:3

I quote all these statements in context of the name of God revealed to Moses from the burning bush (Exodus 3:14). In English, the name of God is often rendered I AM. In Greek it is the One Who Is. In other words, the very name of God is a sentence begging for a predicate. Throughout Scripture, the titles of God are those predicates: Truth, Righteousness, Longsuffering, Love, Life, Good, etc.

Thus, God is Good. As such,

Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow of turning. Of His own will He brought us forth by the word of truth — James 1:17-18

All that is good in the world comes from God because God is Good.

Evil, then, when understood apophatically as an absence of good, is actually the absence of God. Sin is that which separates us from God — we miss the mark, who is God. Further, God made us in His image and likeness. When we sin against another human being, it is a failure to see and acknowledge the image and likeness of God within that other person. Murder, for example, is the attempt to eradicate the image and likeness.

Our secular society has done its best to remove God from all aspects of life. In the absence of all that is good — God — how can we expect to be able to determine what is good or evil? Yet, human beings are wired for God and we yearn for Him and for His eternity. Without Him, this yearning produces watered-down bloodsucking eternally young demi-gods that we fail to see as monsters. For another take on this, see Fr. Barron's commentrary on vampires.

In terms of role playing, this is why I prefer understanding monsters as physical manifestations of sin and the dungeon as part of the mythical underworld. Metaphorically, it mirrors the monastic's struggle against demons in the wilderness. XP for gold spent represents characters improving themselves for their next battle against demons and sins. Conquering land in the wilderness to build a stronghold represents the process of sanctifying part of the fallen world, of winning it back from the devil and his angels. Failure to recognize a monster as a monster becomes a failure to recognize sin. A failure to recognize sin is a failure to recognize not only how far off the mark we are, but a failure to recognize the image and likeness of God within ourselves.

Meditations on Magic

Many of us who played D&D through the 80s experienced and remember the association of our hobby with witchcraft, satanism and a whole Pandora's Box of mental, societal and criminal problems. My own hometown newspaper published a top-10 list of danger signs that your child is a satanist which included playing D&D. Much of this negative reaction to D&D, I believe, stems from the fact that characters in the game use magic. There are several passages in Scripture that equate the use of sorcery with sin. For example:

When self-indulgence is at work the results are obvious: sexual vice, impurity, and sensuality, the worship of false gods and sorcery; antagonisms and rivalry, jealousy, bad temper and quarrels, disagreements, factions and malice, drunkenness, orgies and all such things. Galatians 5:19-21

Rebellion is a sin of sorcery, presumption a crime of idolatry! 'Since you have rejected Yahweh's word, he has rejected you as king.' 1 Sam 15:23

What I find interesting, and telling, about these passages is the Greek for words the English has variably translated as sorcery, divination, or witchcraft. In the examples above, St. Paul uses the word pharmakeia which can be translated as both sorcery and healing. Indeed, it is the root for the English words pharmacy and pharmaceutical. In 1 Samuel, the Greek is oionisma, which refers to a type of divination that interprets the flight of birds.

In other words, magic is like any other part of creation — its being good or evil entirely depends upon how it is used. Pharmakeia can be used to coerce or con somebody (sorcery) or it can be used to help people (healing). Oionisma was used by King Saul in a way that divorced it from God — he turned away from God and instead put his trust in the flight path of birds. The evil of magic is not inherent in magic itself, but rather in the way we allow it to turn us away from God.

It is fascinating that D&D instinctually portrays this dichotomy with its magic system — divine magic being granted by God in contrast with arcane magic which finds its source within the will of the user. It would be easy to declare all divine magic good and all arcane magic evil (which does put an intriguing spin on OD&D and B/X elves), but this ignores the history of the game and ignores my basic premise that good and evil of magic is determined by how it is used.

This doesn't mean, however, that both should be equally easy to use to do good. For example, a sword and an axe are both weapons designed to kill people; however, an axe is also a tool that can be used to create things. While it is possible to use both to do good, it is easier to use an axe for good than a sword. In this same way, I feel divine magic should be easier to do good with than arcane magic. This is inherent in that divine magic is more defensive and arcane magic is more offensive; however, I like my arcane magic a little more dangerous.

I have used a number of mechanics to accomplish this. I very much enjoy the Vancian magic interpretation of S&S, which requires a roll to successfully cast a spell, which may not take effect immediately even when successful. This does not, however, take into account the motivations behind the action — that which largely determines the goodness or vileness of an action. For example, healing someone so that they can continue to be tortured for more information is not a good act. In worlds where monsters are physical manifestations of sin, one can easily have fun with wandering monster tables when arcane magic is used carelessly. This is especially effective when you have tables with monsters based on the type of sins committed.

According to the Fathers of the Church, sin can be broken down into three basic categories: Irascible (wrath, despair), Concupisent (lust, greed) and Intellectual (vainglory, pride). Each of these categories can be countered with the traditional Christian practices of fasting (for irascible sins), alms-giving (for concupisent sins) and prayer (for intellectual sins). Using this background as a jumping off point, it is relatively easy to come up with some tables utilizing standard monsters:

Irascible
1-2 Berserker
3-4 Dragon
5-6 Lycanthrope

Concupisent
1-2 Ghoul
3-4 Harpy
5-6 Lamia

Intellectual
1-2 Doppleganger
3-4 Efreeti
5-6 Brain Lasher

It is also fun to design monsters that personify the various kinds of sins. Note that the character need not necessarily encounter the monster, or even be aware of its existence. Sin never just affects the person who sins, but also everyone around them. Thus, a character can bring a plague of monsters upon a neighboring community.

All of this makes arcane magic truly dangerous to use. Some side-effects of this reality that I like:
arcane magic users are going to be rare, distrusted and often Chaotic; magic is rare — the common man is too afraid to use anything associated with it; and elves are mysterious and dangerous — they aren't entirely trusted by other folk and they are as much a threat to those they help as they are to those they oppose.

Thus, it is possible to do good with arcane magic, its just not as easy as with divine magic.

Building a Better Monster

In the world of Erimia, monsters and the forces of Chaos are personifications and physical manifestations of sin. This is in keeping with the metaphor of the campaign where adventurers are akin to Christian monastics venturing out into the wilderness in order to fight the devil and his minions where they live. This raises the question, what is sin?

At its most basic meaning, sin means missing the mark. In context of humanity's relationship with God, it means our failure to keep on target with the "likeness" of the image and likeness of God within us. Our life in God is a process by which we become more like Him. God has revealed His image to us primarily in two ways: the Law and the person of Jesus Christ. Both of these reveal God to be a relational being. Note how Christ summarizes the Law:

"You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind . . .You shall love your neighbor as yourself" (Matt. 22:37,39).

The image and likeness of God within humanity revolves around our relationship with both God and our fellow human beings (and, in turn, all of creation). Note that in Genesis, the devil tries to destroy both of these relationships: first through the eating of the fruit (humanity's relationship with God), and then through the murder of Abel by his brother Cain (humanity's relationship with his fellow human being). Thus, sin can be understood as anything that harms or destroys these relationships. For example, let us examine some of what have become known as the cardinal sins:

Gluttony — I wastefully consume at the expense of those who hunger, harming not only my relationship with my fellow human being, but with the earth that provides my food, and my God who gives me all of these things as gifts.
Sloth—I fail to love anything enough to give my all. This harms relationships with everybody — nothing, neither God nor anything in creation, is worth my time and effort.
Lust—I objectify my fellow human being, subjecting them to my own selfish need for pleasure. I disregard both their needs, and the image of God within them.

From the perspective of sin, there is no such thing as a victimless crime (as anyone who has a relative that is an alcoholic or addict can tell you).

In designing Erimian monsters as personifications and physical manifestations of sin, I try to give them abilities, tactics and/or powers that actively try to destroy relationships. This destruction then leads to an easier target to kill. As adventurers continue to encounter these monsters, they must work together to create strategies to prevent the destruction of these relationships in order to more effectively overcome the monsters and the sins they personify.

With this in mind, I give you the Xeraphi:

Xeraphi
For as pressing milk produces curds, and pressing the nose produces blood, so pressing anger produces strife. — Proverbs 30:33
Armor Class: 6 [13]
Hit Dice: 1d6
Attacks: 1 weapon (1d6)
Saving Throw: 16
Special: Poison, Fury Scent
Move: 9
Morale: 8
Challenge Level/XP: 1/15 XP

Xeraphi are small, aggressive cousins of the gnolls. Their size and lower hit dice are deceptive — Xeraphi can be extremely dangerous. Their skin excretes a liquid that gives off a scent that sends other creatures into a blind fury. Non-xeraphi with an Int less than 17 must save vs. spell or go berserk, attacking friend and foe for 10 rounds. Only one save is necessary per encounter. In addition, this liquid can be boiled down into a sticky substance the Xeraphi put onto their weapons. Any successful strike by a Xeraphi requires their target to save v. poison or take an additional d6 damage. This poison may be taken from the pelts of the Xeraphi. Each corpse will produce 1d3 doses. However, anyone using this poison will also produce the fury inducing scent that requires every new encounter to save v spells or go berserk.

Xeraphi travel in packs. These packs are generally lead by female necromancers and Xeraphi are very comfortable around the undead — they are one of the few non-Xeraphi that are immune to their scent. When a pack is encountered, it usually includes undead, especially skeletons and zombies.

(I have used the S&W stat block with the addition of Morale because of its simplicity and flexibility)

Being There

Over on Grognardia, James Maliszewski wrote:

I don't think pre-fab campaign settings need to be impediments to creation through play. Indeed, in some cases, they can be great spurs to creativity. I do think, though, that there's a danger inherent in such settings and that's the false perception that there's a "right" way to play in Tékumel or Greyhawk or Glorantha. Once this pernicious idea takes hold, you close yourself off to many terrific possibilities and contribute to the reduction of roleplaying games to an activity of passive consumption rather than active engagement no different than watching movies or television. This is the reason why analogies with those media tend to raise my hackles. It's not that I think there's anything wrong with wanting one's campaign to be as exciting and "alive" as the best movies or TV shows; it's that I don't think that worthy goal can be achieved by looking to those media as models rather than inspirations for good gaming.

This reminded me of an incident that happened back when I went to a tiny little college that was settled in the middle of a tiny little town of about five thousand people. While I was there, the local community tried to remove the book Being There by Jerzy Kosinski from the shelves of the school library. Amazingly, Kosinski came to town to defend himself, his book, and his understanding of freedom. I was privileged enough to be present when Kosinski made his defense, and his argument not only deeply moved me, but actually affected the way I understand the world.

He made the observation that fiction is the most democratic form of media. I can pick up any work of fiction anytime and anywhere I wish. I can read it at any pace I choose. I am the one who controls how I envision the world described in those pages. In contrast, newspapers determine what content I am to read. Non-fiction limits the pallet by which I can imagine what I am reading, because these are real people, in real places. Photography and painting determine exactly what it is that I am to see. Television and movies are the most autocratic of all. They determine virtually every aspect of the experience — when and where, what I see, what I hear, how I see and how I hear. Once I turn on the TV, push play, or sit down in the movie theater, I have given up control to the media. I attribute my utter refusal to see any movie on opening day weekend and a preference for watching movies and TV shows on the web or on DVD to this argument. By doing so, in some small way, I am taking back some of the control over the experience.

This argument is quite relevant to the world of RPGs and adds a layer of nuance to what James is trying to say. As James has so eloquently pointed out on his blog, RPGs used to list books to read in order to find inspiration. Now they list TV shows and movies. There is a direct correlation to the amount of freedom players have in the way these games are presented and played to these influences. Campaign settings are a unique form of media. They can act as literature or television in terms of their democracy vs. autocracy that Kosinski was speaking about. This relationship is determined entirely by how it is used. We, as gamers, can choose to use it as inspiration in order for us to freely create our own worlds, taking what we like and discarding what we don't. Or we can use them as canons to restrict not only what we ourselves do, but what anyone else can do with the material.

I am not at all surprised that old-school gaming, with its emphasis on creativity, house-rules, player freedom and sandbox campaigns is solidly rooted in literature. I am also not surprised that as TV and movies became increasingly influential on RPGs that campaign worlds became instruments of autocracy and that modern RPGs emphasize plot, story and adventure paths over creativity and player freedom.

I would be remiss if I did not reflect on how this reminds me of our own relationship with the world and sin. As beings made in the image and likeness of God, we are free beings. However, we exist in a fallen world overwhelmed by sin and death. When we ignore God and freely choose a world of sin, we concede control of ourselves to sin, in much the same way we do when we turn on a TV. It has the illusion of true freedom, but in reality we are slaves. However, when we take creation, and use it to bring it and us closer to God, we are taking control of both creation and ourselves. Our creative spirit is set free and we get to taste true freedom. Indeed, this is one the very reasons I write this blog and it is the model by which I play my games.