Scars from battle? Healed. "_You_ are the man who fought off ten broo with only a toothpick? Balderdash; you don't look it!"
Callouses? Healed. Try walking with no callouses on your feet or having to learn how to hold a sword or plow all over again since your hand is now soft, smooth, silky-skinned, even. Healing? Sure, but still painful while walking. I see some negatives applied to the skills here.
Get a haircut while "infected?" Nope, back grows your hair. Could be tricky if required for some ritual or sacrifice, yes? Perhaps one slightly miffed deity, upset at your for taking back your personal connection? May even work for blood or "pound of flesh" rituals. What can this do to sorcerors?
Mechanics-wise, it can get worse, too. Those negative traits and flaws? Forced to "heal" them, your character must spend all available and earned hero points to buy them off. Nothing for free, and no choice about it. That's a plague for ya.
Old woman past her baby-birthing prime of life? Guess what. And her old husband's, ah, tumescence problem? Yep, you got it. "Plague of healing."
Local trickster enjoying his drink? Not if he's healed faster than he can get even a buzz. If you think _he_ is going to be upset, wait until the local Urrox warrior decides he needs to vent some steam after a tough battle. He may not be able to get drunk anymore, but he can sure get berserk.
Just a few ideas. :)
Michael
Thanks, I can use that! :)
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This one's a gem.
Gian:
> We should envision what would happen if everybody gets well, for no apparent reason.
> No work for healers, no more need to call for divine blessing on birthing or on susptected
> food or on vermin prevention, less sacrifice and less worshipping could drive mad any
> community/temple/clan, in a short matter of time.
> Then lot of suspicions, lot of divinations, investigations, red herrings and then...
i think the suspicions part is the most fun:
"It must be dragons! I saw a dragon-newt in the woods! At least, I think it was." "It's those damn lunars making us think we're healthy! It's all a big trick. As sson as we start worshiper Her, we'll get sic again." "Blame the trickster!" "It's all because I'm such a great chief that the gods have blessed us." "Our healer is so good that she doesn't even need to do anything to heal people. We're famous!" "I must be Illuminati! They're everywhere." "Your clan is just sending all the sickness spirits or way. We'll raid you unless you stop!"
Then, when the effect starts to fade, there's even more blame to dish out, especially to anyone who previously claimed credit.
Chris
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At 02:31 a.m. 13/01/2009, you wrote:
>A Plague of Health (TM) would be perceived as Good or Bad in the end?
Let's see. What happens if there's too much healing?
Cancer.
Dead coming back to life and screaming "braaiinnnss".
So while the general population will feel better, the overhealing of the few will make things worse. I suspect the only cure is a Humakti with a Leaden Cross.
--Peter Metcalfe
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How grim of you, Peter!
Have your read maybe 'monster island-nation-planet'? ;-)
Great trilogy and for free too!
I would say that "too much healing = no suffering" and no suffering, in the end, means no social life: just a bunch of individuals who care for no one except their own benefits. Living individuals, not dead cannibals. Please mind you, also, I say 'in the end', after some years of plague or maybe a couple of generations, not after a month. Let's hope that, in my glorantha, player characters would stop or change the healing plague long before that!
Ciao,
Gian
> >A Plague of Health (TM) would be perceived as Good or
> Bad in the end?
>
> Let's see. What happens if there's too much
> healing?
>
> Cancer.
>
> Dead coming back to life and screaming
> "braaiinnnss".
>
> So while the general population will feel better, the
> overhealing of the few
> will make things worse. I suspect the only cure is a
> Humakti with a
> Leaden Cross.
>
> --Peter Metcalfe
Messages in this topic (66)
Perched on the shoulders of the Pegasus Hills, where the land rises gently above the yawning vales of Bran Creek and The Stream, there is a hall. It is no ordinary hall, but a magical place: even amid the greatest storms not a drop of rain, hail or snow passed through its roof, and it is accounted the dryest place in all of Sartar. The source of this magic is there for all to see, for the roof is thatched not with straw, but with thousands of duck feathers! Stormy blues, sea-greens, pearly whites, gilted yellows and deepest violets— the plumage shimmers under the light of sun and stars alike, and gives the place its name: Mirrorshaft Hall.
The hall is the home of Eyeless Torkoll; its magical roof the spoils of his hatred. He is chief of the Gamvalings, or Short Ear Clan, of the tribe of Locaem. Torkoll has feuded with the durulz, the strange little wereducks that live in the wetlands of The Stream, for as long as he can remember. Even before Torkoll was born, the Gamvalings had an uneasy relationship with the durulz. They traded raids and insults, and clashed frequently over the bounties of The Stream. Yet though the Gamvalings' ancestors had defended The Stream from the Raven's hunger, the clan was not as powerful in Water-magic as the durulz. More often than not, the Short Ears lost. And the blood-debt grew.
When the Lunar Empire invaded, many of the Locaem clans accepted the new overlords and cast out their traditionalists. The Gamvalings were no exception. Their warriors fought alongside the Red-Moon soldiers; their wealth and power blossomed with Lunar favour. When Fazzur Wideread declared the wereducks scapegoats for Starbrow's Rebellion and placed a bounty on their bills, Torkoll and his kin led the hunt. The chieftain boasts that no adult male of his clan paid taxes for three whole years during the pogrom, such was the slaughter! He ordered that every duck be plucked before it was butchered for bounty, and the resulting feathers, together with those he had collected as trophies in years past, were thatched into the roof of his hall.
To the wereducks, Torkoll's hall is the greatest outrage to their people: a temple to their defeat and slaughter. They believe the eyeless chief to be a demon in manling form; they spit when they say his name, and curse his kin and clan. Feathers are things of great importance in durulz life and magic. Feathers keep them warm and dry; they are symbols of prestige and majesty; they help find a mate. Ducks often keep the feathers of their ancestors as charms; the feathers of wereduck enemies as trophies, symbols of power over the defeated and their kin. For Torkoll to have abused them so cuts to the bone. The wereducks have often tried to destroy the roof, to burn it, to summon magical storms to blow it off, but have always failed.
Then, in 1622, the roof began to drip.
Not water, but blood.
[Something I's been mucking around wiv.]
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