Oh no, not again an article dealing with magic in Middle-earth! If this is your reaction right now, I frankly can understand it. Odds are that it is probably the single most dealt with topic in articles covering role-playing in Tolkien's world. Apart from earlier pieces in Other Hands by Andrew McMurry1 as well as Joseph Balderson jointly with Benjamin Gribbon,2 and the two articles by David Wendleken3 and Marcus Wevers4 mentioned in one of the last issues' bibliography addendum, we meanwhile have been given another thought-piece on the same subject-matter by David Woolpy.5

This count certainly is not comprehensive, but it may suffice to demonstrate that the approach followed by the MERP rules leaves a lot to be said. Clearly, magic in Middle-earth remains an issue not resolved to everybody's satisfaction. However, while most of the above mentioned authors probably would subscribe to the view that Tolkien actually says amazingly little about the actual working of magic, considering the frequent occasions effects of magic are referred to in his tales, hardly any effort would seem to have been undertaken so far really to look at and analyze such scanty hints as actually are given by the author, at least as far as the gaming-world is concerned. (Sorry folks, but this includes the people at ICE, I'm afraid.)

What then, does Tolkien effectively say about the way magic is used in the world created by him? A topic he deals with on a number of occasions is the opening and closing of doors or gates by magical means. When Bilbo and the Dwarves discover the side-entrance into Smaug's lair under the Lonely Mountain, there is no mention of spells or indeed of any magic practiced by someone on the spot, yet in other instances we can find more explicit reference to the actual casting of spells.6

For example, at the gates of Moria, Tolkien has Gandalf saying: "From the inside you may thrust them open with your hands. From the outside nothing will move them save the spell of command....[If] I am allowed a little peace from foolish questions, I will seek for the opening words. I once knew every spell in all the tongues of Elves or Men or Orcs, that was ever used for such a purpose. I can still remember ten score of them without searching in my mind. But only a few trials, I think, will be needed; and I shall not have to call on Gimli for words of the secret dwarf-tongue that they teach to none. The opening words were Elvish, like the writing on the arch: that seems certain" (LotR I: 399).7

For one, it becomes clear from this quote that unlike many role-playing games would have us believe, here there is no single "open all" spell, and that the language in which the words are uttered also makes some difference as regards their functioning. Also, this is not the only occasion where we learn of the use of magic for such a purpose and of its possible side effects. Later on, after Gandalf tried to block the eastern door leading from the Chamber of Mazarbul, he gives the following account: "I could think of nothing to do but to try and put a shutting-spell on the door. I know many; but to do things of that kind rightly requires time, and even then the door can be broken by strength....The counter spell was terrible. It nearly broke me. For an instant the door left my control and began to open! I had to speak a word of Command. That proved too great a strain. The door burst in pieces" (LotR I: 425).

Again, the shutting and opening of doors by magical means in Tolkien's world is not an easy, "low level spell" thing to do, as would be in most fantasy role-playing games. But this is not the point I am trying to make by quoting this passage; rather I would like to draw attention to the fact that now Gandalf apparently is speaking of two quite distinct concepts of magic, one of which is spells that require time and—one takes it—some kind of more or less careful preparation, while to the other, less subtle concept, Gandalf refers as the "word[s] of Command" (note the capital "C").

His notion of a "spell of command" (no capital "C") in the first quote given, however, in this respect seems somewhat confusing. But if we venture to look at the actions subsequently taken by him while trying to open the West-gate of Moria, the actual distinction between "spells" and "words of Command" becomes somewhat more obvious: "He stepped up to the rock again, and lightly touched with his staff the silver star in the middle beneath the sign of the anvil. Annon edhellen, edro hi ammen! Fennas nogothrim, lasto beth lammen! he said in a commanding voice. The silver lines faded, but the blank grey stone did not stir. Many times he repeated these words in different order, or varied them. Then he tried other spells, one after another, speaking now faster and louder, now soft and slow. Then he spoke many single words of Elvish speech....Again Gandalf approached the wall, and lifting up his arms he spoke in tones of command and rising wrath. Edro, edro! he cried, and struck the rock with his staff. Open, open! he shouted, and followed it with the same command in every language that had ever been spoken in the West of Middle-earth" (LotR I: 399-400).

From this, the difference between spells and words of Command seems clear. While spells may be cast in rhyme and in a commanding voice, this does not necessarily seem to be an essential precondition for their functioning, as Gandalf at times also speaks in an low voice and utters single words, trying the vast array of spells at his disposal. Only when these fail, he in the end resolves to use a word of Command. Now we may question: why did he bother with spells then, why did he not use a word of Command in the first place? Apparently, it would seem, because he was confident that it would not require to much effort of him to open the gate. And this indeed appears to be a key factor in the use of words of Command: they require far more effort than any spell to produce comparable results; in game terms: the expenditure of a very much higher amount of magical energy by the caster.

A second factor distinguishing spells from words of Command lies in the use of magical items. When Gandalf finally took to a word of Command attempting to open the West-gate of Moria, he "struck the rock with his staff," whereas before trying his initial spell he had "lightly touched with his staff the silver star." If we may read the latter merely as an aiding gesture in focusing his spell on the site of the gate, the striking of the rock with his staff seems to be more than a mere gesture, an impression that also is furthered by Gandalf's use of his staff in confronting the Balrog at Durin's Bridge, when "crying aloud he smote the bridge before him" (LotR I: 430).

Finally there is another instance where an enchanted item is apparently used in conjunction with words of Command to "open" a gate: "Then the Black Captain rose in his stirrups and cried aloud in a dreadful voice, speaking in some forgotten tongue words of power and terror to rend both heart and stone. Thrice he cried. Thrice the great ram boomed. And suddenly upon the last stroke the Gate of Gondor broke. As if stricken by some blasting spell it burst asunder: there was a flash of searing lightning, and the doors tumbled in riven fragments to the ground" (LotR III: 120). The mention of a "spell" here may refer to such magic as had been embedded in Grond, the great ram of Mordor, rather than to the "words of power and terror" spoken by the Lord of the Nazgûl, the description of which recalls more closely words of Command than a spell proper. To put in brief once more this basic distinction: spells mean skill, words of Command are the equivalent to brute force in magical terms.

As some GMs now might wish to introduce the distinction between spells and words of Command outlined above into their game, how to translate all of this into game-terms? My proposal in such a case would be that if a GM wishes to make the effects of a certain spell available by a word of Command as an alternative option, he simply should multiply the attrition value/energy costs of this spell by the spell-level plus one (i.e., times two for a first level spell, times three for a second level spell, and so on). This factor may be varied according to the game system used, in order to be kept in a reasonable relation to normal spell costs.

This way, many words of Command at first glance might seem almost unaffordable even for expert spell-casters just for the amount of energy they consume. In many game-systems, however, this may be amended by using a focus that can store, add to or multiply magical energy. Gandalf's staff or the great ram of Mordor may be understood in such a way, and introducing the concept of words of Command into your game may require redefining the role and capabilities of such foci. (E.g., in order to work in conjunction with words of Command, physical contact of the focus with the target may be required.)

Another element to consider is casting-time. If I take a word of Command to be spoken in, say, only two seconds, and then to come into effect immediately, some spells, if cast by someone with sufficient expertise, may take scarcely longer than this to work. In such a case the GM might want to consider doubling the time normally needed for casting a spell, or else increase casting-time by some factor he considers appropriate.

Words of Command of course, unlike spells, may not be cast in silence or merely be murmured; in order to work, they must be shouted out aloud. Also, making this option available should be thought over very well for each individual spell, as not every kind of magic, by its proper nature or principles governing it, easily lends itself to be "converted" in such a manner. The concepts behind certain spells may just be to subtle too allow for this.

When Gandalf first used a spell and then a word of Command to keep the exit leading from the Chamber of Mazarbul shut, the drain of magical energy he suffered was considerably enhanced by the Balrog's counter-spell, which led to the Wizard being too weary and shaken even to illuminate the path of the Fellowship with his staff for a while. So, where conflicting spells are cast at an object simultaneously, the GM simply may want to add to the usual expenditure of magical energy by each of the two casters the respective amount expended by his opponent. Once the casters themselves become aware of such a magical opposition, he even may allow for some form of bidding, carried out openly or in secret, at his discretion. In such a case the GM also should give the object (or person) the spells or words of Command are cast upon some structural value in relation to the conflicting energies involved, after all, the strain by conflicting words of Command in the Chamber of Mazarbul causes the door to break, a door which we may assume to have been of the best Dwarven workmanship! But then of course few doors can expect to have cast conflicting spells upon them by an Istar and a Balrog on a regular basis.

I hope some reader may have found my above observations useful, if not inspiring. My principal aim was to show just by a few examples that if one cares to take a thorough look at Tolkien's writings, and with just a little bit of interpretive skill, quite an unexpected lot of details on how things magical work in Middle-earth can be extracted from them. By no means do I pretend to have been exhaustive on this, rather I would like to have encouraged GMs in particular not only to study the rules of whatever game-system they may use, but also to look at the primary sources and draw their own conclusions from what can be found there.

1. "Developing a Magic System for Middle-earth Role Playing," OH 3, Oct. 1993, p. 11-12

2. "Weaving Magical Realism through Nature," OH 4, Jan. 1994, p. 15-16

3. "Magic in Middle-earth," MOTiVE 14

4. "Magie in Mittelerde," Windgeflüster, Oct. 1994, p. 40-43

5. "The Unique Magic of Middle-earth," Grey Worlds, vol. I, issue 3, Aug. 1994, p. 26-31

6. All quotes are form the 1981 Unwin Paperback edition.

7. Note that the notion of spells "in all the tongues of Elves or Men or Orcs" would seem to contradict a view like the one expressed by Eduardo Martínez Santamaría in his letter published in OH 5, who would not grant Men any spell-casting abilities.