Friday, 26 January 2018

The Six Cloven Princes: Overview

Just a few brief notes on each for now; as promised, they'll all get their own posts eventually. As per the name, they all have cloven hooves for feet, but unless this is specifically mentioned in their entry then it's going to be quite subtle; not full-on goat legs, literally just hooves where you'd maybe expect feet.

Into: suffering, pain, torture, convincing lesser beings to carry its babies
Manifests as: gargantuan gray blob with thousands of mouths and hooves; each of the mouths speaks when it talks, all saying something subtly different

Into: the fundamental fragility of matter, entropy, elaborate ritual sacrifices
Manifests as: 20 foot tall ape-like creature covered in weeping sores and a head every orifice of which oozes black sludge 

Old Thorn
Into: the alien unknowable terror of nature, Byzantine plots that take centuries to unfold, kidnapping kids and replacing them with doppelgangers
Manifests as: naked old Venusian man from whom sprout innumerable grotesque thorns

Into: secret knowledge, frenzied sex rites, doing drugs
Manifests as: Goat-headed goat-legged Earthling man, jacked like a bodybuilder

Into: bugs, plague, overseeing the Slime Hive
Manifests as: beautiful Venusian woman whose body is covered in holes in and out of which buzz millions of flies, wasps, bees, etc.

Stillwater Jack
Into: mutation, the ultimate randomness of the cosmos, drowning people
Manifests as: giant half-goat half-squid that lives in a slimy black lake

Tuesday, 23 January 2018

Lost Sepulchers of Venus: Witchery 101

Alright, laying out the basics of the Witch class and how magic works on Venus. Nothing too specific or detailed yet, just a rough sketch.

"Witch" is the most common term, but "wizard," "sorcerer," "necromancer," etc. all denote the same thing: someone who strikes a bargain with one of the Six Cloven Princes and thereby gains access to Powers Man Wasn't Meant to Have. Who are the Six Cloven Princes? Extradimensional horrors who live (sometimes, in some form) on Venus. Each is uniquely monstrous, in both appearance and personality; the only commonality is they all have cloven hooves of some sort. Basically, they're a cross between Lovecraft's Great Old Ones and Medieval depictions of Satan. Don't worry, each of them (and their unique servitor races) are going to get their own post.

In mechanical terms, the Witch replaces the Magic-user and the Cleric. Like the Cleric, they're not quite as capable in combat as the Fighting-man but aren't too shabby. They can use most weapons and some armour. Witch spells take the form of elaborate rituals for binding and controlling weird entities, sending their minds backwards and forwards in time, cursing items, shit like that. Nothing of immediate utility in combat, but which presents a lot of possibilities for clever players. Obviously, I'm filching liberally from Carcosa here, but another reference point is Call of Cthulhu, where most spells are for contacting/calling weird beings and doing other stuff that generally won't help you when you're right in the middle of the shit. Also like Carcosa, certain spells will require certain items, being in certain places at certain times, etc. As I've said before, I really like Carcosa's idea of rituals as adventure hooks: if you have a spell that requires you to be on the Frozen Plains of Amin-Zul on a full moon, you know there's a place called the Frozen Plains of Amin-Zul somewhere.

Witches will start with a couple spells, and to get more they have to perform tasks for their patron, which gives the DM more adventure hooks. They'll also probably get some sort of familiar that functions as the main way they communicate with their Prince, though most of the Princes expect their Witches to visit them in person at least once.

Obviously, Witches are never getting the better deal: the shit they have to do is not pleasant, and obviously your soul is effectively property of a hideous hellbeast the second you say "You've got a deal." Which, I guess leads us to the question of how Witches get to the position of making bargains with hideous hellbeasts in the first place. It's your usual culprits here: reading too much, spending too much time alone listening to weird music, falling in with other Witches because you want to get laid, etc.

Monday, 22 January 2018

Lost Sepulchers of Venus: Races

So I've decided on there being no mechanical difference between the three races, though I like the idea of certain spells or items only working on certain races, or having different effects depending on races.

I've also decided that the non-native races are the descendants of immigrants from many centuries ago. The secret of space travel was lost with the collapse of the still as-yet-unnamed Old Empire; everyone knows it was/is possible, and that the lack of any new interplanetary visitors has something to do with the Empire being gone. Unbeknownst to the general populace, visitors from other planets do still show up every once in awhile, but it's all a bit more surreptitious and these fellows aren't available as player races.

Martians and Earthlings have various traditions, myths, etc. that tell them about their old planets, but it's obviously a centuries-long game of telephone so shit's gonna be way off, and who knows what those places are really like?

Alright, anyway. These write-ups are brief, but it's all you need:

Venusians have green skin and white hair, but otherwise look very similar to Martians and Earthlings. Venus is a land of crumbling kingdoms, whose peoples are prone to prejudice and superstition - especially when it comes to sorcery.

Martians are red-skinned and completely hairless. They tend to be taciturn and humorless. They are almost as common in the Venusian kingdoms as Venusians themselves, having lived amongst them for seemingly forever. They form the bulk of the "working class" (craftsmen and such) and a good deal of the peasantry.

Earthlings come in a variety of skin colours. They are much rarer compared to Martians, and tend to live in slums or their own villages. They are generally more curious and interested in knowledge than either Venusians or Martians; a consequence of this is that more Earthlings wind up being Witches. The other two races know this, and treat Earthlings with suspicion (borderline hostility in the case of Venusians) more or less by default.

Friday, 19 January 2018

Lost Sepulchers of Venus: The Basics

As I said last post, I've been cooking up yet another new setting for use with my own "hack" of White Box OD&D. Tentatively titled Lost Sepulchers of Venus, it takes place, as you may have guessed, on Venus. Prior to the first probe encounter with the planet, science fiction writers had a lot of leeway with depicting the topography of Venus, since the only thing we can tell about it from Earth is that its surface is covered in clouds. According to Wikipedia, most tried to account for what a planet covered in thick layers of cloud would be like, and thus depicted it as either one big ocean, an arid desert, or a humid ball of swamp and jungle something like prehistoric Earth. I'm going with that last one.

It's a science-fantasy setting, obviously. At this point in time, the Venusian populace is sparse, spread amongst a few meagre kingdoms, all around the technological and societal level of 14th century Europe. At the edges of these kingdoms lie a great frontier, once the territory of an enormous Empire, technologically advanced and sorcerously powerful. These very sorceries brought about its downfall, some centuries ago, and now the ruins of its cities, outposts and machines lie scattered all throughout the vast wilderness. Only recently have some shaken off the powerful superstition about the place, and begun to venture into these ruins, to see what marvels might lie waiting to be unearthed.

At this point, I'm thinking three races: green-skinned native Venusians, red-skinned Martians, and pink-and-black-and-whatever-else-skinned Earthlings. How the Martians and Earthlings got there, I have no idea yet. Subject for another post.

Class-wise, I'm thinking: Fighting-man, Thief, maybe some variation on the Cleric but I'll have to think about this, and then the Witch I mentioned last post in place of the Magic-user. I've already got some ideas about who (or make that what) Witches make their dark bargains with. More on that another time.

Speaking of magic, I may also incorporate something like Carcosa's rituals (minus the ickier stuff) that any class can perform if they really want to Fuck With Things That Shouldn't Be Fucked With. The one thing I really like about the rituals is many of them require specific items and/or need to be cast in specific locations. It really adds an extra layer of meaning and impetus to exploration.

Play-wise, I'm conceiving of this as something of a hex crawl with small to mid-sized dungeons scattered throughout the ruins, and probably one legendary megadungeon, the location of which wouldn't be known at the outset.

Wednesday, 17 January 2018

Thoughts on Hacking OD&D

I picked up PDFs of the original (well, 2013 reprint) of the White Box "little brown books" and Supplement I: Greyhawk off of Drivethru RPG the other day; this is the first I've heard of their existence, but it turns out WotC released them over a year ago now.

Just from my first flip-through it became clear I was never going to be able to run anything with these unless I spent some time reorganizing them for myself and house-ruling away the many ambiguities and a few things I just don't like, but my understanding is this is in keeping with the received wisdom about OD&D: no two OD&D campaigns are going to be the same, because every DM is essentially forced to house-rule and interpret them. So I've been essentially writing my own personal "clone" of the rules, for my own use and for distribution to whatever players I could rope into playing this thing with me. That accomplished, I also plan to make a version that incorporates the various changes and additions from Supplment I, for an "AD&D Light." I may or may not incorporate the rest of the supplements, because it seems like the more you add the more you might as well just be playing 1st Edition AD&D.

But working through the rules in this fashion has made me realize in a tangible way what I've always read in regard to OD&D: that it's the most "hackable" version of the game, i.e. the easiest one to turn into whatever sort of broadly D&D-descended game you want. It's the most barest-bones version with the most room for moving into various different directions thanks to the aforementioned ambiguities.

So now I've been thinking about what my ideal version of D&D would look like. Here are some scattered thoughts on what I'd retain/add/change if I was building my own version of D&D out of the OD&D core:
  • XP for gold would absolutely have to stay. More and more, I've been thinking that this and this alone is the most essential thing for the "old-school" D&D feel.
  • No elves, dwarves, or halflings, i.e. no Tolkienisms. Whether or not these might be replaced by other races, and whether that would be in the form of race-as-class, would probably depend on the setting/feel/flavour I wanted to capture. Which leads me to my next point:
  • Setting baked into the rules. If I'm hacking the rules for myself anyway, there's no point in keeping them generic. It's not like I'm trying to be the umpteenth person to market their own version of D&D that anyone can use for whatever settings, I'd want something perfectly tailored to whatever I was trying to do. So monsters, races, spells, items and all that jazz would probably all be cooked up from scratches, or at least heavily tailored.
  • Speaking of spells, I really want to make magic seem fucked-up, dangerous and otherworldly, and I think one of the easiest way to do that is to ditch Vancian magic. Not that it isn't weird and otherworldly, because as I've written elsewhere, I think it is, but as I also wrote there I think a lot of effort is required on the DM's part to really shake off the veneer of banal acceptance that's glommed onto that system after decades of ubiquity. To that end, I think something like Palladium's Witch (or, for that matter, 3rd edition D&D's Witch) would be the main spellcasting class, i.e. magic is a matter of making bargains with one or more dark powers. As such, it's inherently Chaotic, and doing it in public will probably get you burned at the stake.
  • Not sure whether I'd want to keep Clerics/Divine magic; if "regular" magic is the result of making bargains with otherworldly entities, then Divine magic would seem to be the same thing. I guess I really depends if I want there to be any "good" gods or not.
  • I'd make the combat rules a little more codified, which is mostly a concession to some of the people I regularly play with who found OD&D combat unsatisfying. Something like what Lamentations of the Flame Princess does for explicitly formalizing the kinds of actions you can take in combat, or maybe even something as complex as AD&D.
That's all my thoughts so far. If it sounds like this is probably leading me into thinking up yet another setting to work on, you are correct.

Monday, 15 January 2018

The Church of the Holy Scale

In Keep on the Borderlands, at least as I read it, it's strongly implied that the official religion of the land is more or less an analogue for Medieval Christianity. When I ran my own take on B2, I made them snake handlers, pretty much on a whim. Here's a (slightly) more sketched-out version of that idea.

The Church of the Holy Scale, like its real-life inspiration, is devoted to the worship of a god with neither a definite name (they too just go with "God") nor definite characteristics. He/she/it is most often depicted as a great serpent encircling the world, though this is to be interpreted more or less literally depending on whom you ask. Metaphorically or not, God is associated with snakes over and over in the sacred texts. Like a snake, God is understood to be coldly indifferent to anything but its own affairs, despite having created the world and man for its own inscrutable reasons - though it appears to have a general affinity for order and stability (i.e. the Lawful side of the alignment spectrum).

On the other hand, God also has the hunger of the snake, in this case the hunger for worship and adulation. Thus it offers those who pledge themselves to it a chance at eternal life and (for some) a share of its power in the form of clerical magic. Worship services take the form of handling venomous snakes, specially blessed and maintained by the priesthood, who will never bite those with the true allegiance to God in their hearts. Priests are forbidden to use any but blunt weapons because sharp points and edges, like the snake's fangs, are instruments of God's punishment not to be taken up by mere men.

Structure and organization of the Church is a matter of specific campaign needs. For my B2 game, I assumed it was more or less the only (Lawful) religion in town, and that there was some central Vatican-like seat somewhere, but that such things were generally irrelevant to the sort of hinterland places that B2 is supposed to take place in (the Pope isn't stopping by to inspect some random parish on the edge of the Blasted Wastes or wherever, and most folks just take the lead of their local priests and clerics). But it could just as easily be only one religion among many, maybe an offshoot of some Cult of Yig, or something.

Friday, 12 January 2018

It's Me Snitches

Alright, let's try this again.

My tentative strategy for not completely shitting the bed this time in terms of keeping this thing updated regularly is: (1) to significantly lower my standards for what counts as a complete post; and (2) just accept that I'm never going to be satisfied working on or talking about just one project and just let this thing be a jumble of shit.

To that end, let's briefly recap all the projects I've got on the go, from oldest (which, broadly speaking, also means most developed) to most recent:
  • Ionian Nights. I never posted about it on here, but it was my first attempt at an OSR-style megadungeon, set in Asia Minor under Persian occupation in the 6th century BC or so. The dungeon was supposed to be the entrance/descent into Hades, because for the Greeks hell was literally just a place underground that you could get to if a cave went deep enough, which is how living people always used to get there. It turned out, later, that this had literally already been done, so while I do occasionally jot down new ideas and things, I'd have to figure out a way to put my own spin on it if I wanted to post about it on here. Or not, who cares.
  • The Crater of Termination / Xish. Weird pulp fantasy megadungeon in a dying earth setting reminiscent of Vance's Dying Earth stories (obviously) and Clark Ashton Smith's Xothique stories, with a bunch of Lovecraft-flavoured gods and cults thrown in. It's more or less my own version of the standard OSR Appendix N worship. 
  •  Mictlan. Hex/wave-crawl where players set off from a fantasy version of the Aztec empire to sail a sea of blood and explore islands of terrifying whatevers. The idea here is to push more toward dark fantasy/horror, low-magic, etc.
  •  Silfurfall / Dregypth. A Norse-flavoured city-on-top-of-a-megadungeon. This is supposed to be a way of running standard elves and dwarves Tolkienesque fantasy in a way that doesn't make me want to just flip the table mid-session and scream "Oh, who gives a fuck about another one of these?!!" It's also kind of an experiment with figuring out a city using Vornheim.
  • Maze of the Mad Magus. Some shit I threw together at the last minute to actually run, which was basically Keep on the Borderlands with my own Castle Greyhawk-inspired megadungeon nearby instead of the Caves of Chaos. The idea was to try and take a lot of cues from what seems to be the implied setting of B2 (and just B2, considered in isolation from other modules).
  • Something for the next One Page Dungeon contest, which obviously I'm going to keep under wraps for now.
Okay, that's it for now. Talk to you soon (maybe).

Thursday, 13 July 2017

I'm the Worst Part 2

Apologies for the missed post, whoever's reading this. Despite my apparent resolve in the last post, I spent the whole weekend fretting about what to run for my new group and how. I stopped and started a bunch of notes that didn't go anywhere. I drew an entire dungeon level and keyed half of it before scrapping both. Finally, on the way over to the game I decided on just straight up running Keep on the Borderlands, and then changed my mind again literally while the players were rolling up characters.

What I ended up going with, and am now committed to (thank God), is Keep of the Borderland with my own megadungeon, The Maze of the Mad Magus, in place of the Caves of Chaos. I came up with the name that morning; I had Castle Greyhawk on my mind, having almost decided to run Greyhawk Ruins of all fucking things (and I still might have if the maps weren't so goddamn terrible). I was going to just use the first level of Stonehell and then start drawing my own maps for the subsequent levels, but the duo never even left the Keep because they immediately got suspicious of everyone's favourite Friendly Priest Who Is Actually an Evil Cultist and spent the session spying on, and avoiding being assassinated by, him. That's given me a chance to work on the first level, which is actually looking pretty good, but we'll see if I get enough done in time for it to be useful.

For the purposes of that first session. I gave my players the thinnest of back stories: Xilbog, the eponymous Mad Magus, built the Maze some three hundred years prior, disappeared about two hundred years after that, and the place has since become a popular adventuring locale; the Keep (which I'm still calling Castle Goatmass, though I've dropped the additional village) was built to keep an eye on the place and to facilitate adventurers moving in and out and contributing to the local economy.

For next session, I hope to have an elaborate rumour table completed (more on this, and why I love rumour tables, next time), but the first thing I've had to establish are some basic facts about the Maze and its history; these are the things the PCs probably already know, or can easily find out from pretty much anyone in the area. Let's call them "non-rumours":



  1. The Maze was built some 300 years ago (when the Kingdom of Elisbury was still fractured into the warring territories of various barbarian tribes) by a magic user named Xilbog, who would later come to be known as “the Mad Magus.”
  2. With the Maze as his base of operations, Xilbog wreaked havoc on the barbarians, and later on the Kingdom, for a century. A truce was finally drawn: Xilbog was to leave Elisbury alone in exchange for being granted sovereign control of the land around the Maze; this is why Elisbury never expanded into the unclaimed wilderness to the south (a similar treaty was struck with the Dwarf Kingdom which lies underneath Elisbury). A custom was established of the Truce being formally re-affirmed every ten years.
  3. On the eleventh reaffirmation day (i.e. on the one hundred and tenth anniversary of the establishment of the Truce), Xilbog did not arrive at the customary meeting point. He failed to show up again ten years later. A small expeditionary force was sent to the Maze, and found it overrun by goblins, orcs, and other monsters. It was learned (through questioning some of these creatures) that Xilbog hadn’t been seen nor heard from in twenty years, and that creatures he had employed to guard the Maze or for other tasks had opted to just take over the first few levels of the complex for themselves. Other creatures had subsequently moved in, including whole tribes. That first expeditionary force returned with considerable quantities of gold and magic items, which began to attract adventurers to the area.
  4. After learning of the Magus’ disappearance, Elisbury tentatively established Castle Goatmass at the southern border not far from the Maze, both to guard against creatures emerging from the place and to attempt to begin the southward expansion which was so long denied it. Having a civilized outpost nearby increased adventurer traffic, which in turn began to boost the local economy. A small township grew up within the walls of the Castle, to cater to the needs of adventurers and those doing business with adventurers. 
  5. There were initially disputes between Elisbury and the Dwarf Kingdom which lies underneath it (the two have long been strong allies) over whether human adventurers have any rights to enter the Maze and take its riches, given that it is underground and thus arguably belongs to the dwarves. The counter-argument goes that it never belonged to anyone but Xilbog and it should thus not be taken for granted that ownership should now pass to the dwarves just because it happens to be beneath the earth. After heated negotiations the consensus was finally reached that the Maze formally belongs to both kingdoms, who each have the right to tax half of the total revenue any adventuring party brings out (regardless of whether said adventuring party consists of humans, dwarves, or for that matter elves or halflings).
  6. It is not known how large or how deep the Maze is. Only the first few levels have been extensively explored, and even these have unknown corners.
  7.  Adventurers have established a permanent settlement of sorts in the rooms closest to the entrance, replete with places to sleep, buy supplies, and get a drink.

Wednesday, 5 July 2017

Fuck Dragonborn

Which is to say: I've changed my mind once again, but at least only about system this time. My new game is next week, and I decided to push for B/X instead of 5th edition, which everyone else was fine with (most are new to D&D and have no real preferences, except for one person who actively dislikes 5th, so).

It's not really because of dragonborn, it's because of the inevitable logistical nightmare of playing 5th when none of us have physical copies of the books and none of us really know the system that well. I know B/X pretty well now, the essential rules are simple enough you could put them on an index card, and there are no fiddly abilities and a gazillion customization options for character creation; for 5th, as for most later incarnations of D&D (probably even including 1st), you really need a book in hand to make a character, but that's not the case here. I like that. And yes, I'm moving from Labyrinth Lord to the source, but it's not really that big of a leap; funnily enough, I actually like the way Moldvay's Basic book is laid out better than the LL book, although the advantage of the latter is obviously that the contents of the Expert book are also worked in and don't have to be separately consulted. Still, like with all new gaming groups it's unclear if this one will even make it past the first session, so Basic is good enough for my purposes right now.

But, also, fuck dragonborn. They're easily the worst idea in the history of the game. You take this iconic, eponymous monster that has always signified "we're into the real shit now," since basically The Hobbit, and then go, "Oh yeah, you can basically play one." By the time you fight a real dragon, it's not a big deal if your party is already half dragonborn. It takes away the mystery, the awe, the sense of sheer terror, that the dragon can and should evoke.

Really, it's a problem that has its roots in 3rd edition, when suddenly a whole bunch of monster races had rules for turning them into player characters. I mean, I think the half-dragon, which is basically the dragonborn, is from 3rd. It's not a problem which stems from Council of Wyrms, the 2nd Edition setting where you play actual dragons, because I thought it retained a lot of what made dragons mysterious and interesting - and in any case I'm not even sure it's fair to call it a D&D setting, since it makes so many changes to both mechanics and fundamental premise.

But ANYway. I'm still standing my ground as far as setting goes. I've got my village: Goatmass, in the Kingdom of Elisbury (thanks, Judges Guild random name tables!). It stands on the edge of a swamp that used to be the home of a sinister cult which was subsequently wiped out, but which it is rumoured is on the rise again. The whole setup is, obviously, heavily informed by The Village of Hommlet, but I want to develop a vibe of "sinister backwoods England" that I don't think is quite there.

The main dungeon will be accessible through a crumbling manor house that used to be a cult headquarters. I also think I'll be dropping in the Keep from Keep on the Borderlands as "Castle Goatmass," and I'll probably include the Caves of Chaos as well. My thinking at this point is that both the Caves and the basement of the manor house will connect to an elaborate cavern/dungeon system to which the Cult retreated and in which it is currently rebuilding itself.

But more on this next time!

Monday, 3 July 2017

I'm the Worst

Hey, it's next time, and I have in fact changed my mind about what I'm running again.

Sort of. To be more precise: I've changed my mind about the scale I should be working at. It's fun to try and figure out the general thread and theme of a whole campaign setting and to draw a big world map, but at the end of the day that's just not really the level at which the game is actually played. Published campaign settings are expansive and large-scale because that's what makes them worth buying: a bunch of background work has been done for you and you can drill down into the specifics of whatever particular region or adventure hook catches your fancy.

When it comes to doing it yourself though, that kind of work often turns out to have been superfluous. Campaigns often spend multiple real-life years in a relatively small in-game space. Yes, having done a bunch of background work beforehand can help make thing seem richer, but so can taking the time you took to do that to design a small area and make it cohesive and interesting. Background can emerge organically; that's how it's going to happen for the players, in any case. Those big infodumpy speeches you give at the beginnings of campaigns to explain how the setting works? Nobody's listening, dude. I know this from the experience of attempting to run various published settings, for both D&D and other games, including settings like Planescape that seem to demand that players have a bunch of extra information up front. In pretty much every case, as far as I can tell, if players don't already know the setting, they absorb it through play, and they understand it primarily in the context of what happened in play. So if having a bunch of information up front doesn't really do the players any good, it doesn't seem like it does the DM any good either.

I know all of this, intuitively, but I still seem to have gotten caught up in big grand world-building. Even going "I'm going to set this in the Wilderlands" got me into all kinds of trouble as I started expanding and tweaking things that would take months for my players to actually experience, if they ever did.

Part of the problem is that I've become too enamored of the idea of  the "sandbox hex crawl," or at least with a certain idea of one typified by the Wilderlands and by modern incarnations like Carcosa. The truth is, I just don't need to detail that much real estate right off the bat. The classic beginning-of-campaign paradigm is "Everyone starts in a tavern and then goes and explores a nearby dungeon" for a reason. A single village or town and its surroundings are more than enough for a good sandbox - certainly for its early stages, and probably enough for an entire campaign. The entirety of Skyrim fits into a single six mile hex. In terms of what you directly need to start a campaign and even to maintain it long-term, the Wilderlands paradigm is perhaps a bad example to follow.

So here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to design a village or small town, probably with the help of the many random tables in Judges' Guilds Villages 1, and probably kinda-sorta based on The Village of Hommlet. I'm not going to worry about what the continent it's in looks like or what the nation it's in is like or what the larger geopolitical situation is or whether elves and dwarves get along or any of that shit. I'm going to take the time I would have spent worrying about that shit and apply it to fleshing it out the village and its inhabitants in reasonable detail and designing the first couple levels of a large-ish dungeon that will be nearby and to giving some thought to a usefully vague and malleable "vibe" for the kind of game I want to run. There will also be some other dungeons nearby, that I'll probably take from classic modules. I'll come up with a rumour table full of adventure hooks that may or may not hint at broader things going on in the world at large. I may even work out a single six-mile hex's worth of map, probably at a half-mile-per-sub-hex scale. And then I'll just let shit develop from there.

So that's my plan. Join me next week when I really sincerely fucking hope to God I haven't changed my mind again.