I found out too late with the last post to write that I had written 2,000 posts on blogger (I made a note at the end), so I'll take this post to write a little about writing posts.
I have no framework for the number I've written so far - except to say that I'm not tired of writing about D&D or remotely considering shutting down the blog for any reason. I guess that I write somewhere between 600 and a 1000 words per post, on average, counting all the really long posts against those where I write only a few paragraphs, like this one. That 1.2 million to 2.0 million words - about the equivalent of 16 stiff novels. Not bad.
Certainly fills a lot of space.
Can anyone believe that I've been able to write this much about a silly ol' game where people kill dragons?
I'm going to start on a new post here in a few minutes - which for various reasons I did not want to get mixed up in these few observations. I did want to mark the occasion - these milestones matter.
Friday, March 11, 2016
Thursday, March 10, 2016
Starting Adventures

Like any other DM, I'm always looking for something different.
Last Saturday, my party not adventuring in Ternketh Keep, but in the African desert, had just finished a disastrous battle that nearly ended in a TPK (only two characters died). Just as they were deciding they were ready to throw in the towel (having retreated from the dungeon), I decided to have the cavalry come over the hill and sort it out for them. This freed the party's imprisoned characters and set the world aright (after a wish the players had made poorly that was dramatically transforming the climate for a 60-mile wide area). This is the sort of thing that gets noticed, so I had a 22nd level party deal with it. Sometimes that's what we have to do when a game goes bad.
So the players wanted a new adventure. And because we can't just wait for players to go over every option in the universe, it helps to ask four direct questions about what sort of adventure they'd like:
1) monster or humanoid?
2) dungeon or wilderness?
3) land, sea, air or other plane of existence?
4) tropical, temperate or arctic.
The trick isn't getting an answer to these questions. Usually, once the choices are reduced, players can settle and agree after a few moments discussion (at least, if they've been trained through playing together over a period of years, as I have ensured). The trick is being able to produce the first stages of such an adventure, on the fly, once the players have chosen.
They said "monster" in unison, without hesitation.
They recoiled at "dungeon" because the recent experience had been bad; the dungeon was just too severe (but appropriate for location and party's quest for the object they wanted) and they felt overwhelmed. Therefore, they chose "Wilderness."
Some deliberation brought the party around to agreeing upon "Sea."
The last question took the longest. The party came out of the desert at Benghazi in Libya. They had tacitly agreed on adventuring in the Indian Ocean, as the Maldives appealed to the players, as well as possible access to the far east and the recent creation of Burma. But when they saw the prices of ships in Benghazi, they decided to go ahead and buy an 86-foot caravel for themselves, price about 22,000 g.p. The party is 9th-11th and they have the means. They hired a captain, a midshipman and one crewman; with the one experienced sailor in the party this allows enough supervision for four inexperienced but fast learners, for a ship that requires a crew of 8. The newbies will have to make a save once in awhile against something going wrong aboard ship.
With their ship, they did not want to go all the way around the Horn of Africa. I answered that I nearly had the Canary Islands finished and that peaked their interest (and this is why I work on my world all the time). So they started across the Mediterranean at the end of the night, reaching as far as Ceuta, in the Saadi Empire (modern Morocco) across the strait from Gibraltar.
Then I went looking for an environment for their "Sea" adventure and found the image above. This I've used as inspiration to make a top down image of what will be the first step of the adventure I have in mind:
I can't say what's on the ship, I'm afraid. I'm really enjoying my new design skills (having reached a higher plateau recently) and I wanted to show off. I do want to point out that the effort I've put into Ternketh Keep certainly comes close to matching this image above: but I am always thinking of some new way to represent things.
My plan is to start the adventure by sending the players to first seek out the above feature - and what they discover here will lead to the next phase. This should be a combat and a bit of a puzzle, and not necessarily in that order.
I have 21 days until I am forced to abandon my home. Please consider making a $25 donation to my Jumpstarter campaign.
Also, according to Blogger, this is my 2000th post.
I have 21 days until I am forced to abandon my home. Please consider making a $25 donation to my Jumpstarter campaign.
Also, according to Blogger, this is my 2000th post.
Wednesday, March 9, 2016
Alarmed
I have an unpleasant journalism story to tell, gained from an experience I had tonight while visiting the gaming club at Calgary's game store, the Sentry Box.
I was there to drum up some interest in the RPG Workshop that I'm presenting a week Friday at Indigo Books, West Hills, March 18, 7pm. I've been to the club several times, even played there some eight months ago - but there was no one there that I recognized tonight. There was a strong turn-out, as shown by the image below.
In the far, far corner there were some people playing Magic, but the Lion's share of the room (that is a loft above the store) consisted of eight or nine tables and about 50 participants. This sounds encouraging but what I learned was not.
Every Wednesday Night the Sentry Box hosts a program sponsored by the WOTC. This sponsorship includes store credit for the most active participants, establishing that there is an authority at work here. According to this webpage, the event at the Sentry Box is run "solely by the Sentry Box." However, I learned from one regular participant and from two insiders that all is not as it seems. The tables do run an "official" WOTC adventure - but the gameplay is managed in such a draconian fashion that there is no room for any individual role-play or flexibility.
I was told that the players were "not allowed" to obtain things such as pet animals or materials not specifically established as being part of the adventure. They were restricted from game play that was "too deviated" from what was expected in standardized play through the adventure as written.
My source had previously acted as a DM up until a few months ago; though still a part of the Wednesday night event, my source described feeling "burnt out" by the expectations and constraints that were placed upon DMs responsible for running the individual tables. "Most DMs can only last a year before they're tired of having to police everyone and keep them on the WOTC's page," my source said. Further details included stipulations denying DMs any privilege whatsoever to innovate or create situations not already in put in place by the WOTC.
"Everything has to be by the book," my source said with frustration. "Everyone is expected to finish the module with everyone else."
If the reader is wondering how this happens, Wednesday nights are managed by an Event Coordinator, a volunteer who has assumed responsibility to act as guard and enforcer of the WOTC's policy rules. In a conversation with the Coordinator, whose name will be withheld, I was told that this individual "Spoke on behalf of the WOTC and with their full authority." The present Coordinator came into the role after the previous position holder stepped down, citing stress and mental abuse at the difficulties of keeping the gaming tables in line with expectations.
If any DM steps out of line with regards to the dictates already described, the Event Coordinator has the right to exile or ban any participant. This means if you don't play according to the WOTC (and the Coordinator's interpretation thereof), you don't play at all.
How did the present Event Coordinator get the role? No one else wanted it.
When asked why people don't just step away and start their own games somewhere else, I was told that people are afraid. "If a group breaks away to start their own campaign, and it doesn't work, they can lose weeks of participation time [with the WOTC adventure]. That means they don't go up levels, they don't get benefits, they don't get the rewards." Since everyone has to be moving through the adventure at the same speed, this means that if you miss a month of playing, you can get so far behind that your character is frozen out.
"There's no room for new players to begin the adventure from the beginning," my source told me. "All the tables are for established players. No one is running a table for first levels."
This describes an active agenda for compelling players to return night after night, with a Coordinator who has already gained a reputation for forcing out both DMs and Players who don't adhere to WOTC policy.
What does this sort of heavy-handed, oppressive environment suggest about public gaming in the future? We can only guess with dismay - but one of two possibilities seem to suggest themselves. Either the WOTC has lost control over their Play/Events, having created an atmosphere where self-styled autocrats can impose authority, while claiming "official" status provided through the use of the WOTC's name, or the WOTC themselves have placed company above gamer experience.
Either way, I am alarmed.
I was there to drum up some interest in the RPG Workshop that I'm presenting a week Friday at Indigo Books, West Hills, March 18, 7pm. I've been to the club several times, even played there some eight months ago - but there was no one there that I recognized tonight. There was a strong turn-out, as shown by the image below.
![]() |
In the far, far corner there were some people playing Magic, but the Lion's share of the room (that is a loft above the store) consisted of eight or nine tables and about 50 participants. This sounds encouraging but what I learned was not.
Every Wednesday Night the Sentry Box hosts a program sponsored by the WOTC. This sponsorship includes store credit for the most active participants, establishing that there is an authority at work here. According to this webpage, the event at the Sentry Box is run "solely by the Sentry Box." However, I learned from one regular participant and from two insiders that all is not as it seems. The tables do run an "official" WOTC adventure - but the gameplay is managed in such a draconian fashion that there is no room for any individual role-play or flexibility.
I was told that the players were "not allowed" to obtain things such as pet animals or materials not specifically established as being part of the adventure. They were restricted from game play that was "too deviated" from what was expected in standardized play through the adventure as written.
My source had previously acted as a DM up until a few months ago; though still a part of the Wednesday night event, my source described feeling "burnt out" by the expectations and constraints that were placed upon DMs responsible for running the individual tables. "Most DMs can only last a year before they're tired of having to police everyone and keep them on the WOTC's page," my source said. Further details included stipulations denying DMs any privilege whatsoever to innovate or create situations not already in put in place by the WOTC.
"Everything has to be by the book," my source said with frustration. "Everyone is expected to finish the module with everyone else."
If the reader is wondering how this happens, Wednesday nights are managed by an Event Coordinator, a volunteer who has assumed responsibility to act as guard and enforcer of the WOTC's policy rules. In a conversation with the Coordinator, whose name will be withheld, I was told that this individual "Spoke on behalf of the WOTC and with their full authority." The present Coordinator came into the role after the previous position holder stepped down, citing stress and mental abuse at the difficulties of keeping the gaming tables in line with expectations.
If any DM steps out of line with regards to the dictates already described, the Event Coordinator has the right to exile or ban any participant. This means if you don't play according to the WOTC (and the Coordinator's interpretation thereof), you don't play at all.
How did the present Event Coordinator get the role? No one else wanted it.
When asked why people don't just step away and start their own games somewhere else, I was told that people are afraid. "If a group breaks away to start their own campaign, and it doesn't work, they can lose weeks of participation time [with the WOTC adventure]. That means they don't go up levels, they don't get benefits, they don't get the rewards." Since everyone has to be moving through the adventure at the same speed, this means that if you miss a month of playing, you can get so far behind that your character is frozen out.
"There's no room for new players to begin the adventure from the beginning," my source told me. "All the tables are for established players. No one is running a table for first levels."
This describes an active agenda for compelling players to return night after night, with a Coordinator who has already gained a reputation for forcing out both DMs and Players who don't adhere to WOTC policy.
What does this sort of heavy-handed, oppressive environment suggest about public gaming in the future? We can only guess with dismay - but one of two possibilities seem to suggest themselves. Either the WOTC has lost control over their Play/Events, having created an atmosphere where self-styled autocrats can impose authority, while claiming "official" status provided through the use of the WOTC's name, or the WOTC themselves have placed company above gamer experience.
Either way, I am alarmed.
Job Descriptions
Below, I've given the job description for a luxury liner cruise director - only I have chosen to abbreviate "cruise director." I've also chosen to edit a little bit - but the reader can see the original with this link.
I thought I might also add a job description for a referee. Once again, I've used initials in place of the word "referee."
It also occurred to me that I might include a job description for the Speaker of the House - abbreviated, of course.
Finally, a job description for what has recently become a populist marketing expert, "chief storyteller":
For me, a DM is a DM. But it scares the hell out of me that a marketing guru is closest of anything to the way I perceive myself running a game.
I don't know what to do with that. Emotionally.
One of the most visible participants during the game, the DM is given the hefty responsibility of overseeing the management of all activities and entertainment involved. While most players are enjoying their play, DMs are busy at work ensuring that all activities run smoothly to keep players entertained and pleased with their stay. DMs are specifically in charge of ensuring all players' welfare and comfort. DMs are responsible for overseeing the social activities for making sure all players are having a great time. DMs must wear many hats, including greeter, event planner, master of ceremonies, customer service manager and cheerleader.
I thought I might also add a job description for a referee. Once again, I've used initials in place of the word "referee."
A DM is the person of authority who is responsible for presiding over the game from a neutral point of view and making on-the-fly decisions that enforce the rules of the sport, including sportsmanship decisions such as ejection.
It also occurred to me that I might include a job description for the Speaker of the House - abbreviated, of course.
The DM's official role is to moderate discussion, make rulings on procedures, announce the results of player decisions. The DM decides who may speak and has the powers to discipline members who break the procedures of the house. The DM often also represents the campaign, speaking of it as "his campaign" in ceremonial and some other situations.
Finally, a job description for what has recently become a populist marketing expert, "chief storyteller":
A DM is able to breathe life into the stories of the campaign's unique message, expanding upon a broad range of subjects from small-game dynamics to benevolent involvement and individual role-playing. The DM's focus is on being highly informed and justifiably opinionated, thinking editorially and developing meaningful relationships both within and outside the campaign. Every player in the campaign is encouraged to act with enterprise and independence.
For me, a DM is a DM. But it scares the hell out of me that a marketing guru is closest of anything to the way I perceive myself running a game.
I don't know what to do with that. Emotionally.
Else
I have 22 days left. Then my partner and I will lose control over our residence and have to move out. My daughter has kindly offered a room for us to live in until . . . who knows? I don't want to talk overmuch about it. It's the sort of thing that produces a daily thousand-yard stare that snaps off at the moment I'm presenting myself for another job interview.
Working on my book. Working on my wiki. Getting out in the afternoon in the hopes of finding a job cooking. These are my days.
Strange. On the one side of my life I field all this praise, all this encouragement, these amazing generous donations, opportunities to talk about my book with strangers, a mind full of complex and beautiful arguments about gaming and presentation . . . and on the other side of my life, the one that everyone else treasures, I'm a complete fuck up.
Bear with me. Getting my bearings. I'll write more later in the day, about something else.
Working on my book. Working on my wiki. Getting out in the afternoon in the hopes of finding a job cooking. These are my days.
Strange. On the one side of my life I field all this praise, all this encouragement, these amazing generous donations, opportunities to talk about my book with strangers, a mind full of complex and beautiful arguments about gaming and presentation . . . and on the other side of my life, the one that everyone else treasures, I'm a complete fuck up.
Bear with me. Getting my bearings. I'll write more later in the day, about something else.
Monday, March 7, 2016
A Fine February
What a month it has been.
I've produced my first available module, admittedly with some backlash: Ternketh Keep, a floating keep inhabited by harpies and other deadly monsters. I can tell you this adventure has my one group of 6th-7th campaigners on the ropes. They're still game but it hasn't been easy. A complete description of the keep can be found in the link above, on my game wiki - O gentle reader, if you haven't had a look yet, have a look.
The wiki itself continues to expand. It is up to 954 pages. I've just finished adding 1st level Bardic spells and I hope to continue adding spell descriptions through March. Of course, it also means I'll be adding rules here and there, like the intoxication rules I added last week. The wiki never ends, it just waits for me to add new pages.
I also put forth a podcast two weeks ago, which can be heard on soundcloud. In it my daughter and I share a generational approach, talking about our first gaming experience, edition differences, conventions and introducing children to D&D. I'll be putting forward the 2nd episode this Sunday, and every three weeks after that, until we have created 12 podcasts altogether this year.
My book sales have doubled through February, to where I was selling better than a book a day. That's pretty good for someone without any means. About 2/3rds of those books are How to Run - but I am doing very well with The Dungeon's Front Door and even How to Play a Character continues to sell volumes. My family has stepped forward to help make sure that I'll be presenting those books and the new one I'm writing, The Fifth Man, at the Edmonton Expo this coming September. We did $500 a day there last year.
And that brings me to the Jumpstarter Proposal that is still with us. I encourage all my readers who haven't made a contribution to please change your minds. I really want to enable the writing of the new book (been working on it hard all weekend) and continue to produce content on the blog and the wiki just as hard as I can. A $25 donation can make a very big difference for anyone with the generosity to help me out in these difficult times.
I just recently introduced a character into the novel who's name was paid for with a $100 donation. It was a terrific thrill for me to fit the name and the description together, to make someone memorable both for me and my most hospitable reader:
And now I have the Event on the 18th at the local Indigo Books. Good times.
I've produced my first available module, admittedly with some backlash: Ternketh Keep, a floating keep inhabited by harpies and other deadly monsters. I can tell you this adventure has my one group of 6th-7th campaigners on the ropes. They're still game but it hasn't been easy. A complete description of the keep can be found in the link above, on my game wiki - O gentle reader, if you haven't had a look yet, have a look.
The wiki itself continues to expand. It is up to 954 pages. I've just finished adding 1st level Bardic spells and I hope to continue adding spell descriptions through March. Of course, it also means I'll be adding rules here and there, like the intoxication rules I added last week. The wiki never ends, it just waits for me to add new pages.
I also put forth a podcast two weeks ago, which can be heard on soundcloud. In it my daughter and I share a generational approach, talking about our first gaming experience, edition differences, conventions and introducing children to D&D. I'll be putting forward the 2nd episode this Sunday, and every three weeks after that, until we have created 12 podcasts altogether this year.
My book sales have doubled through February, to where I was selling better than a book a day. That's pretty good for someone without any means. About 2/3rds of those books are How to Run - but I am doing very well with The Dungeon's Front Door and even How to Play a Character continues to sell volumes. My family has stepped forward to help make sure that I'll be presenting those books and the new one I'm writing, The Fifth Man, at the Edmonton Expo this coming September. We did $500 a day there last year.
And that brings me to the Jumpstarter Proposal that is still with us. I encourage all my readers who haven't made a contribution to please change your minds. I really want to enable the writing of the new book (been working on it hard all weekend) and continue to produce content on the blog and the wiki just as hard as I can. A $25 donation can make a very big difference for anyone with the generosity to help me out in these difficult times.
I just recently introduced a character into the novel who's name was paid for with a $100 donation. It was a terrific thrill for me to fit the name and the description together, to make someone memorable both for me and my most hospitable reader:
The first of these was a thickset stranger, with a waist, chest and shoulders all of the same proportion; he looked to be very heavy and strong, with black scraggled hair that hung from under his cap like a wet mop upon the half-inch stubble on his face. He wore the grey coat of an army officer, but all the buttons and insignia had been snipped away and there was a rent in the shoulder that ran down as far as his elbow. A heavy belt was cinched around his waist, over the coat, holding a scabbard knotted to the leather and a poor soldier’s sword.
His companions gave this ‘officer’ a respectability he wouldn't deserve among other men. The ruffian on the officer’s left was dressed in a miner’s jacket and breech pants, both of which were stained with dirt; he smiled and I saw that all the teeth on the right side of his mouth were missing. Whatever accident had befallen him had left him with adequate fixtures on his left, but the shortcoming twisted his face out of decency. Left of the officer was the tallest of the thugs, a graceless, gangling apparition with a small face and narrow eyes, marked by dark stains for irises. His booted feet failed to meet the hem of a tunic he wore, showing blackened knees that had gathered layer upon layer of muck. This creature smiled at me and at Ruchel in turn, like a butcher settling which of two cows were to be made ready for the slaughter that day. I felt the spittle in my mouth turn sour as I forced myself to smile back, remembering words from my father about holding my ground.
The last of this rabble, back of the officer, wore better clothes than the rest; but the filth that showed on the shoulders and sleeves, with their poor fit, proved they were not made for him. I guessed them stolen. A green kerchief cut his face in half, covering one eye; the other rolled around in curious interest, all about the cottage. At last his roaming gaze rested on me and he chuckled. "He must be the boy, Vann."
Workshop at Indigo
News. Urged on by Indigo, with whom I appear to have sold enough books, I have been requested to present a role-playing workshop, a week from Friday, on the 18th of March, at the Signal Hill Indigo Bookstore in west Calgary. At 7 pm.The discussion will revolve around my book, How to Run: an Advanced Guide to Mastering Role-playing Games; I'll be there to answer questions and pose ideas about running games, creating worlds, acting in one's best interest and seeking a long-term campaign.
I took steps to put my book on Indigo shelves about a year ago - with a promise that I was entitled to 60 days even if the books did not sell. At present, I have books still on the shelves at two Indigo bookstores; there are three other box stores in the city I haven't approached, largely due to resources. The important thing is that the books have done well enough that Indigo is happy to leave me on their shelves. Me, a little 'vanity' publisher.
That word has gone away. So much of the work in the free world is self-published now that it's no longer a stigma to publish your own books. Indigo has treated me with nothing but respect.
I'm looking forward to the workshop. I don't expect more than three or four participants, as I know that I've pretty much reached out to every resource I have to get people interested in the book. I understand that there is a D&D play going on at the Pumphouse Theatre in Calgary; I might hunt up someone there and I will be making a couple of stops at gaming clubs to see if I can get someone interested in coming. The Indigo consignment marketer, Stacey Kondla, promises that she has connections with the Sentry Box that I don't have. She can be reached for details through Indigo and of course I can be reached for details here.
If you're in Calgary and you've always been afraid of approaching me, here's an opportunity to do so in a bright, public place with lots of witnesses. I'm not likely to bite.
Saturday, March 5, 2016
Ship Rock
My party has expressed an interest in exploring a wild coast from aboard ship; we spent the running tonight getting them set up with a ship and sailing their way the length of the Mediterranean to Ceuta in Morocco. They're bound for the Canaries and in that vein, I've found this image as an adventure starter:
That is a fantastic inspiration for an adventure. I have one in my mind already, in the twenty minutes since finding this picture. I hope I will have time to work on it a little before the next running.
![]() |
| Photoshopped? Or real? |
That is a fantastic inspiration for an adventure. I have one in my mind already, in the twenty minutes since finding this picture. I hope I will have time to work on it a little before the next running.
Thursday, March 3, 2016
Writing With Gaiman
I have no idea who Neil Gaiman is; I do not intend to look him up until after I've written this post. It could well turn out that he's some embarrassing internet personality I'd rather not know and would make me look pretty dumb for quoting him.
However, I find that I must agree with this. I wouldn't call these 'rules,' however; obviously, that's a click-bait term intended to avoid saying something like "realities" or "unavoidable issues" . . . for that is what they are.
Through this post I intend to use the words 'write' and 'writer.' Understand that in the context of this post that I am making a distinction between people who scratch words on a pad or type words in an email for the purpose of everyday communication and the process of setting out ideas that are excessively structured and sourced from great deliberation. Without doing this, the first of Gaiman's rules is worthless. "Write" must be synonymous with "think."
That said, the critical action of writing is putting one word after another. I have met many who have expressed to me a candid incomprehension at how I am able to write books, to which the only answer is that I put words in a row and I keep doing it until the entire book is written. This takes a long time. It would also take a long time for me to walk to North Carolina. That does not make it something that's difficult to comprehend.
Finishing is the goal. The worst malady of any writing, particularly novels, plays and epic poetry, is the poison that compiles as the work continues. One might think that progress would be its own balm but quite the contrary; the longer the work gets, the more concerned the writer becomes with what's already wrong with the work and what will need to be fixed before the work can be complete. This produces a swelling toxin that slowly consumed the work and the writer - until the writer can no longer bear the malignancy and either returns to the beginning of the work to do it over again (thus moving ourselves farther away from the end of the project) or quitting altogether to go work at something else. This is something that nearly everyone experiences; a very few blessed people are able to begin every project and end every project without this contagious contamination - most of these people, I have found, also love to crow about it.
I have never read any such person and found their work to be anything but complete shit.
I believe that writing is an act of bravery; it is charging the guns at Fredricksburg, shouldering one's way into the bullets as if through a gale (as the Union soldiers were said to do at that battle), as irrational as that sounds. Those who do not feel those guns nor any reason to duck one's head and dive into that flying lead clearly possess so little self-awareness that they are unable to make any character or context in their work reflect humanity. It must be marvelous to be without self-awareness. It's a terrible attribute for an artist.
For those who feel that I am "over the top" in my description of writing, that it isn't as bad as Fredricksburg must have been, I suggest a thought experiment. Imagine yourself upon a stage. Imagine that the audience is full of both your family, all your family, and that they are joined by every person in your entire life that you have hated or that has hated you. Imagine every boss, every miserable co-worker, every disappointed teacher and professor, every mean old woman who frightened you as a child . . . they're all sitting out there in the audience. Now you're going to start reading. Out loud. Not someone else's work, no. Yours. Not for some five-minute school assembly performance, either - but for 24 continuous hours. 24 hours of your audience getting restless and impatient, 24 hours of your audience thinking about getting up to get something to eat, 24 hours of your audience thinking that they might have something to say about what you're saying. 24 hours of your voice getting tired, of your knees buckling, of your words beginning to ramble as you fall off point. 24 hours of growing ever more conscious of the noise out there, of people mumbling and talking to each other, as your feet hurt and your hands holding the book begin to tremble and your confidence wanes.
Ask yourself: is that process going to get easier as you get closer to the end?
Nevertheless, finishing is the goal.
Damn right put it aside. You cannot trust your own perspective. You will never be able to trust your own perspective. When your work is on trial you are entirely unsuitable to be a member of the jury. You cannot be the judge nor the prosecutor. You're the defendant and the only evidence you have is the work; and every time you try to call yourself up as witness for the defense, you're steadily destroying your own case. There are many writers in the world who don't get this. They can't get this.
Once upon a time writers had an editor to act as their legal defense and to keep them off the stand. The most interesting thing for this generation of self-published authors is watching them lose every case because they can't shut up about the work.
Yes, when someone says something is wrong, then something is wrong. Those three words, "something is wrong," defines the difference between a good writer and a bad writer. A bad writer focuses on the word 'wrong.' A good writer focuses on the word 'something.' 999 times out of a thousand the thing that is wrong is nowhere near what the reader has said. That's not the reader's fault. They don't know the work intimately and they have no real idea of what the goal is or why the characters are making these choices the writer has made for them. It is up to the good writer to piece together the clues of that reader's concern and figure out what the right changes are. This is often very difficult.
Bad writers start to throw all their ideals away and start making changes randomly or worse, exactly according to what the reader has said.
The word 'fix' is synonymous with the words 'write' and 'think.' When a would-be writer is able to identify all three words as the same word spelled with different letters, the 'would-be' can be dropped.
Rules 7 and 8 are where Gaiman goes right off the rails.
"Laugh at your own jokes" is a euphemism for "I'm being a real downer with these rules and I'm trying to sell something to an audience, so I should say something peppy and friendly so buyers won't think I'm a total asshole."
You don't need assurance or confidence to write whatever you want; just a willingness to overcome fear. No story ever needs to be written. You have no choice but to write things "the best that you can." If you don't give a shit, you're still writing the 'best' you can. Rule 8 is just an addendum to Rule 7:
"I don't think they really understood that Rule 7 was meant to be encouraging; I better spin out a bunch of cliched bullshit encouraging statements from the salesman's encouraging statements handbook so they know I'm really sincere about wanting their money."
I understand where Gaiman is coming from. I want donations too. I want my readers to have good feelings too. But I'm not going to pretend that it is a 'rule' that anyone who really tries with a lot of assurance and confidence to do the best they can is going to write better than very badly. Writing isn't hope. It isn't need. It isn't gosh-golly-gee-willikers I'm going to slap words together and be a writer today!
It's brutal self-abuse. It takes years and years of writing well enough to be able to laugh at your own jokes (unless you're a fucking idiot and you think this is funny).
UPDATE: I have looked up Neil Gaiman now and I do recognize some of his books - Coraline, for example. It really isn't the sort of stuff I read but I'm gratified to find out he isn't a corporate writer hack. I suspect those last two statements were forced on him by executive meddling . . . or else he feels endlessly guilty for the dark fantasies he writes.
However, I find that I must agree with this. I wouldn't call these 'rules,' however; obviously, that's a click-bait term intended to avoid saying something like "realities" or "unavoidable issues" . . . for that is what they are.
Through this post I intend to use the words 'write' and 'writer.' Understand that in the context of this post that I am making a distinction between people who scratch words on a pad or type words in an email for the purpose of everyday communication and the process of setting out ideas that are excessively structured and sourced from great deliberation. Without doing this, the first of Gaiman's rules is worthless. "Write" must be synonymous with "think."
That said, the critical action of writing is putting one word after another. I have met many who have expressed to me a candid incomprehension at how I am able to write books, to which the only answer is that I put words in a row and I keep doing it until the entire book is written. This takes a long time. It would also take a long time for me to walk to North Carolina. That does not make it something that's difficult to comprehend.
Finishing is the goal. The worst malady of any writing, particularly novels, plays and epic poetry, is the poison that compiles as the work continues. One might think that progress would be its own balm but quite the contrary; the longer the work gets, the more concerned the writer becomes with what's already wrong with the work and what will need to be fixed before the work can be complete. This produces a swelling toxin that slowly consumed the work and the writer - until the writer can no longer bear the malignancy and either returns to the beginning of the work to do it over again (thus moving ourselves farther away from the end of the project) or quitting altogether to go work at something else. This is something that nearly everyone experiences; a very few blessed people are able to begin every project and end every project without this contagious contamination - most of these people, I have found, also love to crow about it.
I have never read any such person and found their work to be anything but complete shit.
I believe that writing is an act of bravery; it is charging the guns at Fredricksburg, shouldering one's way into the bullets as if through a gale (as the Union soldiers were said to do at that battle), as irrational as that sounds. Those who do not feel those guns nor any reason to duck one's head and dive into that flying lead clearly possess so little self-awareness that they are unable to make any character or context in their work reflect humanity. It must be marvelous to be without self-awareness. It's a terrible attribute for an artist.
For those who feel that I am "over the top" in my description of writing, that it isn't as bad as Fredricksburg must have been, I suggest a thought experiment. Imagine yourself upon a stage. Imagine that the audience is full of both your family, all your family, and that they are joined by every person in your entire life that you have hated or that has hated you. Imagine every boss, every miserable co-worker, every disappointed teacher and professor, every mean old woman who frightened you as a child . . . they're all sitting out there in the audience. Now you're going to start reading. Out loud. Not someone else's work, no. Yours. Not for some five-minute school assembly performance, either - but for 24 continuous hours. 24 hours of your audience getting restless and impatient, 24 hours of your audience thinking about getting up to get something to eat, 24 hours of your audience thinking that they might have something to say about what you're saying. 24 hours of your voice getting tired, of your knees buckling, of your words beginning to ramble as you fall off point. 24 hours of growing ever more conscious of the noise out there, of people mumbling and talking to each other, as your feet hurt and your hands holding the book begin to tremble and your confidence wanes.
Ask yourself: is that process going to get easier as you get closer to the end?
Nevertheless, finishing is the goal.
Damn right put it aside. You cannot trust your own perspective. You will never be able to trust your own perspective. When your work is on trial you are entirely unsuitable to be a member of the jury. You cannot be the judge nor the prosecutor. You're the defendant and the only evidence you have is the work; and every time you try to call yourself up as witness for the defense, you're steadily destroying your own case. There are many writers in the world who don't get this. They can't get this.
Once upon a time writers had an editor to act as their legal defense and to keep them off the stand. The most interesting thing for this generation of self-published authors is watching them lose every case because they can't shut up about the work.
Yes, when someone says something is wrong, then something is wrong. Those three words, "something is wrong," defines the difference between a good writer and a bad writer. A bad writer focuses on the word 'wrong.' A good writer focuses on the word 'something.' 999 times out of a thousand the thing that is wrong is nowhere near what the reader has said. That's not the reader's fault. They don't know the work intimately and they have no real idea of what the goal is or why the characters are making these choices the writer has made for them. It is up to the good writer to piece together the clues of that reader's concern and figure out what the right changes are. This is often very difficult.
Bad writers start to throw all their ideals away and start making changes randomly or worse, exactly according to what the reader has said.
The word 'fix' is synonymous with the words 'write' and 'think.' When a would-be writer is able to identify all three words as the same word spelled with different letters, the 'would-be' can be dropped.
Rules 7 and 8 are where Gaiman goes right off the rails.
"Laugh at your own jokes" is a euphemism for "I'm being a real downer with these rules and I'm trying to sell something to an audience, so I should say something peppy and friendly so buyers won't think I'm a total asshole."
You don't need assurance or confidence to write whatever you want; just a willingness to overcome fear. No story ever needs to be written. You have no choice but to write things "the best that you can." If you don't give a shit, you're still writing the 'best' you can. Rule 8 is just an addendum to Rule 7:
"I don't think they really understood that Rule 7 was meant to be encouraging; I better spin out a bunch of cliched bullshit encouraging statements from the salesman's encouraging statements handbook so they know I'm really sincere about wanting their money."
I understand where Gaiman is coming from. I want donations too. I want my readers to have good feelings too. But I'm not going to pretend that it is a 'rule' that anyone who really tries with a lot of assurance and confidence to do the best they can is going to write better than very badly. Writing isn't hope. It isn't need. It isn't gosh-golly-gee-willikers I'm going to slap words together and be a writer today!
It's brutal self-abuse. It takes years and years of writing well enough to be able to laugh at your own jokes (unless you're a fucking idiot and you think this is funny).
UPDATE: I have looked up Neil Gaiman now and I do recognize some of his books - Coraline, for example. It really isn't the sort of stuff I read but I'm gratified to find out he isn't a corporate writer hack. I suspect those last two statements were forced on him by executive meddling . . . or else he feels endlessly guilty for the dark fantasies he writes.
Wednesday, March 2, 2016
Intoxicants
Damn. I love designing rules for this game.
When I got up this morning, I had no intention of designing any sort of rule or definition for drunkenness in the game. It's been a thorn that's been around a long time without my having any reason to address it. Now, however, I do have full rules for it - and they are simple, straight-forward and adaptable to any campaign.
I was a little worried about the "how do you determined intoxication" problem, but that's behind me now.
The manner in which a character becomes inebriated to varying degrees begins with this table:
The numbers listed under each character race indicate the saving throw that must be made if a 'drink' is taken (according to the character's weight). A drink is defined as 2 ounces of spirits, 8 ounces of strong ale (as opposed to a short beer, an ale-like drink made without hops) or 6 ounces of wine. Once this amount has been consumed, a saving throw can be made to determine if the character has increased their inebriation or not. Only one saving throw must be failed for the character to become flushed. It requires two failed saving throws altogether for a character to become tight (counting the one that made the character flushed). It requires three failed saving throws to cause a character to become smashed. In each case, the saving throw is adjusted by constitution as noted.
Where time is a factor, the character should roll a d6 to see how many ten minute periods it takes for the increased inebriation to take hold. For example, a male dwarf weighing 155 lbs., with a 14 constitution, fails to roll the necessary 9 on a d20 to retain his present sobriety. However, though the greater inebriation is now inevitable, it requires 1d6 x 10 minutes to pass before our dwarf feels these effects. We may imagine that he rolls a 4, indicating he will become flushed in 40 minutes. However, our dwarf continues to drink during that time. He has another glass of ale and fails again, approximately 30 minutes before he is due to become flushed. He rolls a d6 again and now he rolls a 1 - indicating he will be tight in 10 minutes. When this case arises, presume that the character will move from sober (none of what he has drunk so far has had any notable effect) to tight all at once, once the ten minutes have passed. Where conflicts occur, consider only the result where the greatest degree of intoxication will occur.
There is room on this system for other forms of intoxicants, such as mead, dwarven ale, etcetera. Simply assign an amount in ounces for such that defines that beverage as a "drink" - then roll a saving throw accordingly when that amount is consumed.
When I got up this morning, I had no intention of designing any sort of rule or definition for drunkenness in the game. It's been a thorn that's been around a long time without my having any reason to address it. Now, however, I do have full rules for it - and they are simple, straight-forward and adaptable to any campaign.
I was a little worried about the "how do you determined intoxication" problem, but that's behind me now.
The manner in which a character becomes inebriated to varying degrees begins with this table:
The numbers listed under each character race indicate the saving throw that must be made if a 'drink' is taken (according to the character's weight). A drink is defined as 2 ounces of spirits, 8 ounces of strong ale (as opposed to a short beer, an ale-like drink made without hops) or 6 ounces of wine. Once this amount has been consumed, a saving throw can be made to determine if the character has increased their inebriation or not. Only one saving throw must be failed for the character to become flushed. It requires two failed saving throws altogether for a character to become tight (counting the one that made the character flushed). It requires three failed saving throws to cause a character to become smashed. In each case, the saving throw is adjusted by constitution as noted.
Where time is a factor, the character should roll a d6 to see how many ten minute periods it takes for the increased inebriation to take hold. For example, a male dwarf weighing 155 lbs., with a 14 constitution, fails to roll the necessary 9 on a d20 to retain his present sobriety. However, though the greater inebriation is now inevitable, it requires 1d6 x 10 minutes to pass before our dwarf feels these effects. We may imagine that he rolls a 4, indicating he will become flushed in 40 minutes. However, our dwarf continues to drink during that time. He has another glass of ale and fails again, approximately 30 minutes before he is due to become flushed. He rolls a d6 again and now he rolls a 1 - indicating he will be tight in 10 minutes. When this case arises, presume that the character will move from sober (none of what he has drunk so far has had any notable effect) to tight all at once, once the ten minutes have passed. Where conflicts occur, consider only the result where the greatest degree of intoxication will occur.
There is room on this system for other forms of intoxicants, such as mead, dwarven ale, etcetera. Simply assign an amount in ounces for such that defines that beverage as a "drink" - then roll a saving throw accordingly when that amount is consumed.
Easy peasey.
The Bard Drinking Game
I've never been happy with the intoxication table in the DMG (p.82). It is a classic example of fuzzy game design, put in the book to give the semblance of some thought on the subject with no practical usefulness. To begin with, the rules make no distinction between slight, moderate or great intoxication; nor any rules on how any might be achieved.
The table gives a rule for effects on "bravery," a stat that has no statistical application to any defined trait possessed by characters. There is a d8 roll on p.101 that enables the DM to give fuzzy bravery attributes to NPCs ("normal," "foolhardy," "brave," "fearless," "cowardly" and "craven"); but since these are mixed up and the intoxication table offers a +1, what is this supposed to refer to?
Great intoxication is so debilitating that of course no player seeks to be there unless they can't wait to die in the campaign (or there's an implied house rule that greatly intoxicated characters are funny and therefore should be allowed to stumble around town with euphoric immunity). Strong stimulants have a 5% chance of permanently lowering the character's constitution by 1 point permanently, ensuring that only the stupidest of all possible players would play the card, since it gives zero real benefits (no morality there, uh uh!).
Since the matter came up in my game last Saturday, with the party finding various caches of sealed drink in the adventure, it has been in the back of my mind. Then I had an interesting thought, one that has led to the title of this post.
First, let's rebuild the intoxication table:
The table gives a rule for effects on "bravery," a stat that has no statistical application to any defined trait possessed by characters. There is a d8 roll on p.101 that enables the DM to give fuzzy bravery attributes to NPCs ("normal," "foolhardy," "brave," "fearless," "cowardly" and "craven"); but since these are mixed up and the intoxication table offers a +1, what is this supposed to refer to?
Great intoxication is so debilitating that of course no player seeks to be there unless they can't wait to die in the campaign (or there's an implied house rule that greatly intoxicated characters are funny and therefore should be allowed to stumble around town with euphoric immunity). Strong stimulants have a 5% chance of permanently lowering the character's constitution by 1 point permanently, ensuring that only the stupidest of all possible players would play the card, since it gives zero real benefits (no morality there, uh uh!).
Since the matter came up in my game last Saturday, with the party finding various caches of sealed drink in the adventure, it has been in the back of my mind. Then I had an interesting thought, one that has led to the title of this post.
First, let's rebuild the intoxication table:
![]() |
| I'll leave the making of a drugs table for another day. |
Most of these are straight forward. Morale is covered by my wiki; obviously it has no effects upon player characters.
Stranger for some is the potentially massive increase in hit points. I like the idea of a character truly feeling immune to pain and having the wherewithal to withstand a combat, despite their reduced hitting ability. Of course, if a 7th level fighter is willing to accept the same THAC0 that was once had at 4th, that's not much of a penalty.
Those who dispute the hit point gain will be unfamiliar with my HP/BU formula for the way that hit points work. Effectively, intoxication simply puts more hit points in between the number of body units that players possess. Of course, a very strong argument could be made for players suffering an injury that would be felt afterwards for a long time . . . but these are rules that work in my game because I have carefully built up a structure for what really happens when hit points are lost or when legs and arms break. Following the links on this post will serve as an outline - but I imagine only a few will consider adopting such ideas. I think they work for my world, if only because it allows a party to survive one more combat past their ordinary hit points and healing potential (a sort of 4th edition surge with payback after the fact).
None of this thinking would have happened this morning, however, if it hadn't been for a thought process I had about the bard class.
Just now I have a bard in my campaign that is on the verge of getting a 4th level spell - the character's first spell of this level. I have done no work on bard spells above the 3rd level and so I am on the hook for putting together a list before the character levels. For me, this means finally getting around to putting the bard up on the wiki, something I started yesterday after a whirlwind effort to write 6,000 words of my book (I'm in the second act now).
I came to the page where I account for how bards get spells. Truth is, the word 'spell' is one of convenience. What a bard does in my world is a manipulation of magic, but it is a manipulation accomplished through creativity and inspiration. The bard consigns the actual magic to a muse, who intervenes in the moment to produce the effect the bard desires; the muse in turn is motivated to take action through the bard's artistic expression. It is similar to the way that a cleric casts a 'spell' by asking the god to do something, then enjoys the god's grace by seeing a creature healed or cursed or otherwise affected. With a cleric, it is religious; with a bard, it is aesthetic.
When I wrote the page on illusionist spell use and acquisition, I provided a detailed account of how the spellcaster's magical process worked. It was something I planned to copy at a later point into the clerical, druidical and magical pages for the wiki as well. Just now, in the midst of working on the bard, I realized I needed something distinctly different for the bard than simply 'memorizing' a spell. Bards don't memorize, they don't have spell books and they don't study old work. The creative process is about creating new things - so the restoring process for bardic magic must reflect the bard's crafty nature.
How does a bard - or any artist - become inspired? Ah, some readers will have made the leap. If an artist can't make inspiration happen by digging in and working at the problem from every other angle, an artist will drink. Intoxication frees the mind and improves the imagination; it enables perspective, breaks down the brain's tendency to frame things in rigid lines and promotes lateral thinking. Or so I am told. I personally drink occasionally but I am never drunk. I don't like the effect - but it is undeniable that many artists drink daily to produce the associative thought processes they adore.
Imagine, then, that the bard does regain their spells through my process - patient innovation and trial-oriented experimentation, where I rise every day and write, then write some more, then end the day with writing, thus turning out long posts like this one before going off to write my book (oh, and harassing readers for donations while pitching for some kind of day job that will keep me and my partner fed). Bards don't get many spells, however . . . and there is a way to fix that.
Suppose that a bard doesn't have to sleep to recover a spell. Suppose instead that a bard that has cast a spell can turn to the bottle to restore that spell.
My game has six spell levels for bards. This is nicely arranged for the intoxication table above. I can see an intoxication/spell acquisition rule working like this:
- A bard casts a 1st or 2nd level spell and wants that spell back; by drinking to become flushed (the equivalent to just enough drinks to make a driving test iffy), the bard can restore a single 1st or 2nd level spell (the bard's choice). Not one of each level, but one from among the total number of 1st and 2nd level spells the bard has.
- The bard has also cast a 3rd or 4th level spell and wants that spell back, as well; the bard drinks more, until tight (the point where you feel you can pull yourself together to fool your mom or the police officer, when its obvious you can no longer focus). The bard can then restore a single 3rd or 4th level spell.
- Finally, the bard has cast a 5th or a 6th level spell. The bard keeps drinking, until smashed (no longer able to remotely pretend you're not horribly drunk). The bard can then restore a single 5th or 6th level spell.
In total, in this manner, three spells can be restored. It means bards will have to seriously debilitate themselves to achieve the benefit, even risking injury the next day, but it will also greatly reduce the potential power a bard can have while differentiating the class greatly.
Note than on the intoxication table above that there is an asterix (*) next to charisma. That is to indicate that bards are not affected by those penalties. Bards remain exactly as charismatic as they are, regardless (others may wish to grant a +1 bonus to bards who are sloppy drunk, but I decline to do so).
All I have to do now is figure out some sort of rules comparing amounts drunk to constitution to determine how many drinks it takes to hit each level of intoxication.
Tuesday, March 1, 2016
Enlarged
I would ask the reader to take the time to look over this post and remember that I am still seeking a much smaller sum of $4,762 in donations before the end of May. That's just $50 a day; every small donation counts!
As I write my third post about the enlarge spell, I trust I won't be taxing the patience of my readers. Trying to nail down the details of this spell's effects has been kicking my ass for a couple of weeks now (admittedly, I have been writing a book) and I feel like I'm finally on top of it.
I've introduced a few odd additions to the original description of the spell in trying to account for things the writers of the Player Handbook failed to consider. For example, while the spell does transform a creatures' equipment in the effect (so that the player's friends don't rip out of their clothes and everything remains G-rated), where is the line drawn? If the character picks up the end of a rowboat while the spell is being cast, is the rowboat is affected? What if the character is holding the rowboat on the end of a rope that is run through a pully and the rowboat is clear of the ground? What if the pully is being held by another character who has been made stronger and is wearing a pair of levitation boots? If the character picks up a keg full of oil, which is then lit with a long fuse before the spell is cast, does the barrel and the oil, and the fuse, all increase in size?
If you think characters won't come up with questions like this, you don't play D&D.
My full spell description can be read on the wiki. I had to include a downloadable file (excel) that can be used to calculate the new height and weight from a character's original size. I have not included any table that will calculate an object's new weight and size - mostly because it is less important, since the object doesn't move, and because my players nearly always use the spell to make one of their own party a big bruiser - these adjustments to the damage done by creatures (both enlarged and shrunk) explains why. Note that these tables bear very little similarity to the ones I posted last week:

In keeping with discussions last week, I've chosen to make all the space between 56 lbs. and 250 lbs. a sort of neutral zone where damage is always the same for everyone in that range. Enlarged weapon damage is then adjusted for sizes of 250 or more (adjusted against a weight of 216 lbs, because it has a cube root of 6). Shrunk weapon damage is adjusted for sizes of 55 lbs or less (adjusted against the cube root of 60).
I don't think that looks half bad. It is possible for a character to be greater than 250 lbs. in weight and less than 56; and some of the characters in my campaign are. The smaller characters should be fine; there's no real adjustment until the size drops below 49 lbs - and even at that, the sort of weapons that do 1-10 damage can't be used anyway because the length of these weapons is too long to be used by short, 50 lb. characters. The shrunk table will mostly be used for determining the actual damage of weapons used by smallish monsters (kobalds and the like), the Monster Manual's numbers be damned (I think they were pulled from backside nether regions, anyway).
The bigger characters, on the other hand, will probably start carrying more massive weapons just so they can get the damage increases.
Note that I don't mind mixing and matching dice to get results with the right averages. 2-14 damage, for instance, is obtained by rolling a d6 with a d8, giving an average of 8. I don't know why D&D players are particularly opposed to this mix, but they are. I don't see what difference it makes. It gives many more options to the amount of damage that can be done by creatures and smooths out that gap between 2-12 and 2-16 or 4-16.
I hope this means I can put the enlarge spell to bed now. I hate this thing with a heat like a thousand suns just now.
As I write my third post about the enlarge spell, I trust I won't be taxing the patience of my readers. Trying to nail down the details of this spell's effects has been kicking my ass for a couple of weeks now (admittedly, I have been writing a book) and I feel like I'm finally on top of it.
I've introduced a few odd additions to the original description of the spell in trying to account for things the writers of the Player Handbook failed to consider. For example, while the spell does transform a creatures' equipment in the effect (so that the player's friends don't rip out of their clothes and everything remains G-rated), where is the line drawn? If the character picks up the end of a rowboat while the spell is being cast, is the rowboat is affected? What if the character is holding the rowboat on the end of a rope that is run through a pully and the rowboat is clear of the ground? What if the pully is being held by another character who has been made stronger and is wearing a pair of levitation boots? If the character picks up a keg full of oil, which is then lit with a long fuse before the spell is cast, does the barrel and the oil, and the fuse, all increase in size?
If you think characters won't come up with questions like this, you don't play D&D.
My full spell description can be read on the wiki. I had to include a downloadable file (excel) that can be used to calculate the new height and weight from a character's original size. I have not included any table that will calculate an object's new weight and size - mostly because it is less important, since the object doesn't move, and because my players nearly always use the spell to make one of their own party a big bruiser - these adjustments to the damage done by creatures (both enlarged and shrunk) explains why. Note that these tables bear very little similarity to the ones I posted last week:

In keeping with discussions last week, I've chosen to make all the space between 56 lbs. and 250 lbs. a sort of neutral zone where damage is always the same for everyone in that range. Enlarged weapon damage is then adjusted for sizes of 250 or more (adjusted against a weight of 216 lbs, because it has a cube root of 6). Shrunk weapon damage is adjusted for sizes of 55 lbs or less (adjusted against the cube root of 60).
I don't think that looks half bad. It is possible for a character to be greater than 250 lbs. in weight and less than 56; and some of the characters in my campaign are. The smaller characters should be fine; there's no real adjustment until the size drops below 49 lbs - and even at that, the sort of weapons that do 1-10 damage can't be used anyway because the length of these weapons is too long to be used by short, 50 lb. characters. The shrunk table will mostly be used for determining the actual damage of weapons used by smallish monsters (kobalds and the like), the Monster Manual's numbers be damned (I think they were pulled from backside nether regions, anyway).
The bigger characters, on the other hand, will probably start carrying more massive weapons just so they can get the damage increases.
Note that I don't mind mixing and matching dice to get results with the right averages. 2-14 damage, for instance, is obtained by rolling a d6 with a d8, giving an average of 8. I don't know why D&D players are particularly opposed to this mix, but they are. I don't see what difference it makes. It gives many more options to the amount of damage that can be done by creatures and smooths out that gap between 2-12 and 2-16 or 4-16.
I hope this means I can put the enlarge spell to bed now. I hate this thing with a heat like a thousand suns just now.
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