I am embarrassed. As
a musicologist, my training (primarily) deals with Western Art Music
("Classical" Music or dead-white-guy music). One of those dead white
guys was this dude named Mozart, and he wrote an opera about a flute which has
magical powers, the Zauberflöte (literally, "magic flute") that takes
place in a quasi-medieval environment with witches and curses and princesses.
And it never occurred to me, until Jon Miller's comment, to mine it for
D&Dables.
Act I
Prince Tamino is
attacked by a giant serpent and faints
The Queen of the
Night appears, kills the serpent, and vanishes
The professional
birdcatcher, Papageno, (costumed as a birdman) enters the scene just as Tamino
awakens
The Queen of the
Night reappears, gives Tamino a quest to rescue her daughter from the evil
sorcerer, giving him the titular Magic Flute, which transmutes grief to joy,
and some magic bells for protection
Tamino and Papageno
set out to rescue said maiden
Pamina, the maiden
in question, failed in her most-recent attempt to escape and is rechained by
the slavemaster (who happens to be black)
Papageno bursts on
the scene and is so horrified by the slavemaster's blackness that he flees
(while the slavemaster is also revolted by Papageno's birdman appearance. Yay
18th century racial norms…)
The "evil
sorcerer" appears and, surprise surprise, is actually a good guy (since if
you have two magicians in the 18th c., the evil one is always female) who
allows Tamino and Pamina to get married (because love at first sight and, well,
it's an opera and that's what ingénues do in opera) if Tamino can pass some
manly trials of reason and love of nature and other Freemason-y things.
Act II (this act is
better than it looks, but it's less interesting for our purposes)
Tamino passes the
trials
The Queen of the
Night is pissed
Conflict is resolved
through magic
Everyone gets
married
Things to pull out
of this opera:
2 magic items: the
Zauberflöte and protective bells (all bells are magical for most of European
history, and it is a terrible shame that most people have forgotten this. I
need to talk about bells in a way that probably steals from Garth Nix's
Abhorsen series).
Creatures:
Giant serpent (meh)
Birdpeople (yes!)
that talk to birds and can look like people or like bird-people and have
difficulty finding other members of their species
Bigger things:
Unproblematic
Patriarchy (nope. I want to be done with that part of D&D's history. Thank
you very much)
Women
and night and magic and mystery
Men
and day and order and logic and reason and "nature"
Unproblematic Racism
(Ibid., Ibid. Just nope)
But
I will take conflict via cultural misunderstandings and lack of communication,
potentially leading to meaningless hostility and generation-spanning conflicts
between "men" and "monsters"
Family Drama (yes)
The
top-level conflict in the opera is between two divorced parents (the two
magicians) and their approach to parenting. That is super cool. We should think
more about what happens when two married archmages get into a pissing contest.
(Maybe that's where the Owlbear comes from…) This is simultaneously totally
banal and utterly fantastic, which is perfect for D&D.
Overall takeaways:
The
emergence of the Zauberflöte, just as Alexis is working on a metric to measurehappiness is perfectly timed. Once he gets to a conclusion, I will adapt it to
my world/rules and have a brand-new artifact.
I
need to spend a lot of time thinking about how bells are fundamentally magical
objects (and how that ripples through everything)
A
reminder that NPC motivations are often simple, personal things that can
explode into huge issues. We don't learn that the "evil sorcerer" and
the Queen of the Night were married and had a daughter (Pamina) until late in
Act I at the earliest - there is no reason for the PCs to know that the reason
they've been asked to burgle the townhouse is because that's where the cheating
spouse likes to go with their special friends. Or that the reason there are two
teahouses on the same block that conduct nightly raids of the other is that the
owner of a business, a retired adventurer, promised his vast wealth to
whichever kid could operate the best teahouse and then died before specifying
how the teahouse was to be judged, but left the clause in the will, and through
the generations the cause of the endless rivalry has vanished into memory but
the feud remains virulent as ever. It's a reminder that when things happen to
affect our players, they do not need to be only one level deep or exceedingly complex
- seemingly-"ordinary" relationship dynamics can spawn something vast
and sweeping, inviting the players to investigate and find out the small thing
that has generated the larger issue.
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