Ahoy, Sailors.
Once again I’m pressing PAUSE on the writing of my nautical horror hack of Mothership to share some insights that emerged while I was working on Dreadnauts this past week.
Oh, oh, oh, It’s Magic! You Know…
Throughout the whole process of creating and drafting the game, I’ve been pulled by two powerful currents — like winds and tides — pushing my mind in different directions.
One is the effort of hacking the Panic Engine and properly emulating the feel of Mothership. This current forces me to keep the course steadyfast inside the genre of nautical horror. Settings, characters, and stories should only emphasize the smallness of humankind against the infinite blue, our fragile ignorance of natural forces and the elements, plus the strange animals and supernatural entities that haunt the vast blue.
That points to a game where all characters are human and possess very limited resources to face the dangers the sea throws upon the deck.
But then there’s another current, a kind of magic pull, that makes me peek beyond the gunwales and rigging to dream of other possibilities. One of them came very recently, while I was reading Ruination Pilgrimage by Donn Stroud (a dark fantasy hack of Mothership).
A Dark Fantasy Detour
For those of you who don’t know it, Ruination Pilgrimage is a tabletop RPG set in a dark medieval world where humanity wages war against demonic hordes spilling out of hellish rifts, spreading famine, disease, and discord. Characters confront this supernatural hatred as one of five playable Stations — Fighter, Priest, Merchant, Scholar, or Laborer — each with unique abilities, backgrounds, starting gear, and a randomly generated “vice” that ties directly into the Panic Engine system inherited from Mothership, with failures and demonic encounters building up a resource called Sorrow (akin to Stress). As Sorrow reaches certain thresholds, characters may fall into Despair (akin to Panic), further reducing their already fragile chances of survival. The setting also weaves in mystical elements, such as near-magical prayers invoked by priests, consecrated weapons inscribed with runes or powered by relics, and even the possibility of angelic interventions to battle the hell that has already begun to consume the world.
And I can already that voice in my head whispering: “You can do it!” “People would want that!” “C’mon, don’t be an A-hole.”
You can do Magic!
Shout out to the 1980’s castaways out there!
Yes, friends, the temptation to bring MAGIC into Dreadnauts is real.
But there are both pros and cons to weaving magic into the mechanics (especially for players). Writing about them here might help me make up my mind or at lease entice you, dear reader, to jump in the comments with thoughts.
Practical Seas to Cross
The first barrier is a practical one: page count. Right now I’m working under the Mothership paradigm, aiming at a zine-sized core book (A5 or half-letter, 64 to 80 pages tops). That leaves very little room to add magic, as it would require at least one new Station (class), full spell lists, spell descriptions, magical items, potions, charms, fetishes… and suddenly pages start disappearing like… magic?!
Another option would be to have magic present in the world, but not (immediately) available to PCs. That keeps the door open narratively, but still forces me to carve out precious space to describe how magic integrates with my grimdark Age of Sails setting.
Let’s Talk About Magic
And here’s where it gets really interesting.
Whenever I think of magic in Dreadnauts, I can’t picture anything remotely similar to what we usually see in fantasy or horror RPGs out there.
No Vancian spell slots, no wizards with fireballs, no people going insane from reading a book (well, that last one sounds interesting…)
The world of Dreadnauts sails off at the Age of Discovery and navigates through time across the Renaissance — a wide-eyed world of awe, terror, and wonder. Magic should feel closer to what was historically contemporary in occultism, alchemy, and esotericism as it is NOT the same magic in a Sword & Sorcery, Medieval or more modern settings.
One of my favorite YouTube channels, Esoterica, hosted by Dr. Justin Sledge (who suspiciously seems to know a LOT about both RPGs and Heavy Metal), explores the arcane in history, philosophy, and religion. From Babylonian incantations to alchemy and Judaic mysticism, it’s been inspiring me to imagine different kinds of magic for Dreadnauts.
All Kinds of Magic
Think of John Dee’s angelic conversations, Paracelsus’s natural philosophy, Nicolas Flamel’s alchemy, grimoires like The Lesser Key of Solomon, demonology, necromancy, and the whole landscape of occult thought stretching from the Renaissance through the Inquisition, the Enlightenment, and up to the dawn of the Golden Dawn.
That’s a treasure trove for nautical horror!
Magic as Science: Alchemy, astrology, and natural philosophy. Even Isaac Newton was an avid (and serious) student of alchemy and the occult.
Native Magic: In an age of colonial expansion, native and indigenous magic looms large — healing rituals, animism, shamanism, blood sacrifices, spirit possession, vodou. And alongside real horrors like plague, conquest, and genocide, we find their supernatural reflections.
In short: magic in Dreadnauts could be esoteric, syncretic, unsettling — and utterly unlike the safe tropes of high fantasy.
The Magical Solution
But magic is a rabbit hole. It’s an endless drain of time, energy, and mental bandwidth for someone who’s already fighting to cut, cut, cut.
So, for now, my “magical solution” is this:
I’ll leave clues in the core book that magic and occultism exist in the world of Dreadnauts, but reserve deeper exploration of the subject of magic and magic-users for future expansions, third-party content, or DLC-style supplements.
Heck, if you want to - maybe - help with that, just DM me!!!
And Now, Over to You
What do you think?
Should magic be accessible to player characters in Dreadnauts?
Do I need to create a dedicated Station for magic-users?
Or does introducing magic risk diluting the core of nautical horror, shifting the aesthetic toward fantasy and away from the terror of the unknown?
I’ve set up a poll below to start the conversation, but I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments.
Drop your thoughts below and give me a hand, will you?
Until our next random encounter—
Keep your sails high!
Luiz.