A New Beginning - Day One

[Tyndmyr]

It was an odd dream, like so many are. A bright but indistinct figure tapped you on the shoulder, then handed you a character sheet and pencil. To all your questions, he merely smiled and shrugged. Having done this in the past, you flip through it, and pencil the numbers in, while pondering what kind of campaign this will be. As the last empty box is filled, you turn to the figure, asking..

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BE*smack*

Stupid alarm clock. Ugh, wednesday. Still a while till the weekend. As you peer around through foggy eyes, you notice a character sheet next to your bed. It looks oddly familiar. That's funny...

[Schylerwalker]

Waking up is never easy. Especially not from a dream like that. So lucid, so life-like, so real... Dismissing the nearby character sheet (There were plenty scattered on his desk; he was in the middle of "filing"), Schyler rolled out of bed, stretched, and scratched his head. Then froze. Hanging from one of his bed-posts, sheathed in what looked like a brand-new scabbard, was the sword he'd gotten for his thirteenth birthday. The dark red grip was polished and gleaming and the brass cross-guard was untarnished. Bundled neatly below it was the chain shirt he thought was still in storage.

"Huh."

He slowly looked around his room, waking up far more quickly than he usually did without his first cup of coffee. Everything was in order. Mostly. The bookshelves were still there and sorted, posters and pictures, paintings and memorabilia plastered the walls, and his laptop hummed away contentedly on his workbench. The coiled up whip on his dresser was new though, as was the strange-smelling pouch next to it.

Schyler stood up, feeling a mix of dawning horror and exultation, looking at the character sheet on the desk. A spark seemed to building inside him, new power seemed to be rushing through his body, and knowledge that he had not possessed before -- or perhaps, he had always possessed -- pulsed in his mind. He lifted a hand and muttered a word of arcane power, snapping his fingers; the character sheet lifted slowly in the air.

Laughing, crying, and whooping, he let the sheet fall and snatched his cellphone away from his desk where it was plugged in, dialing two numbers. First, he called his boss at Jump'N'Java and told him he was calling in sick today. Second, he called Roarii.

"Hey, Roarii -- yeah, I know it's early -- I think we've got an emergency. An AWESOME emergency."

[sciencepanda]

Brooklyn, New York, 7:00 AM

"Ugh," Adam groans at the glaring blue light and horrible clanging noise from his nearby alarm-clock, "Iwannagobacktosleeeeeep."

Struggling to his feet, Adam gets up an begins to make his preperations for the day.

Showing.

Getting dressed.

Breakfast (Cereal and orange juice.)

"Huh," he says, looking at the clock (7:16 AM), "I got that done with rather quickly. I still have another hour before I even have to leave to get to the studio."

Shrugging to himself, he heads to his desk, hoping to at least sit and rest his eyes for a bit, which is when he spots the character sheet.

"Now where did you come from?" asks Adam, seemingly nonchalant for someone talking to inanimate objects. Oddly familiar too...but no, nevermind... "Eh, I haven't done this in a while, why the heck not." he says to himself, beginning to fill out the character sheet.

[kestrel404]

Character sheet, next to bed. Well, that's nothing new. Must have fallen off the stack of game boxes. Getting up, I start my morning routine as usual - get dressed, pet the dog so she goes back to sleep, sneak out into the hall so I don't wake up Candy, alien in the hallway, go down...

"Aaaaaahhhhhh!!!!!".

I crash back through the bedroom door, landing on my rear and scuttling through the bedroom closet - I keep some weapons in there in case of burglars.

"Glenn? Glenn what's wrong? Where's Candy?" Cat. Woke up Cat. Keep her out of danger!

"There's an alien in the hallway."

::I don't see anything in the hallway.:: Was that in my head?

"No, I'm certain there was something in the hallway."

"WOOOOOF! Whuf whuf whuf!" Shelby, the old mut that she is, finally notices that something is happening.

"Daaaaadeeeeee!" Which of course wakes up Candy. Or maybe it was my first scream.

::Correction, there is a small human in the hallway.:: OK, I'm sure that was in my head.

After an eternity of rooting around in the closet (probably about six seconds), I finally grab my quarterstaff - the big stick being the least likely thing to cut my hand off while I grab around blindly in the dark.

I rush forward and grab up Candy from where she's peeking through the door across the hall from our room. Holding her to my chest, I hold out the staff threateningly at the...thing in the hallway.

::Arctine:: What?

"What?"

"Daddy! Monster!"

"Oh my god, what is that thing?!? Kill it! Kill it!" Cat must be out of bed by now. She's never in a good mood when she has to get up this early.

::Now there is a large human. And it is threatening me with a morningstar.::

The light is on, and Cat is advancing on the thing with one of the nastier weapons in our closet. She swings, and misses.

::Please tell the human not to attack me, or I will defend myself.::

"Umm, Cat? Are you listening to it? Get away from it!" OK, now I'm awake. What the heck is going on?

"Daaadeeee! Down!"

I continue holding the squirming four year old.

"What are you talking about?" However, she backs off, threatening the arctine? Why does that sound familiar?

I feel a rush of power. Oh, yes, arctines are the elemental envoys native to the plane of water. I even took the Elemental Envoy feat to get an Arctine in that dream last ... night. "S**T."

"OOH! Daddy said a bad word! I'm gonna tell mommy!"

::If this is an inopportune time for me to introduce myself master, I can go back downstairs?::

"Glenn, what the hell is going on?!?"

... Later, in the kitchen ...

"... so I think that dream we had ended up coming true. Sort of. I mean, I've never played a psion before, let alone an Erudite. I don't even remember how their powers work!" Rush of power. "Oh yeah, that's... S**T! Well, I guess I'm stuck using Call to Mind today, at least until I run out of power points."

Candy, being physically restrained on the other side of the table by her mother, stopped trying to get to the arctine (whom she insisted on calling "Archie-chan") and responded with, "Ooh! Daddy said a bad word again Mommy!"

"Glenn, don't swear in front of Candy. And what do you mean - wait, no, I don't care. So if you're an Erudite, whatever that is, then I'm a mage?"

"Wizard. Says so on your character sheet. Of course, you're not much of a mage, love. Sorry to say so, but the only spell you've got written on here is magic missile."

"It was the only spell I could remember. It was the one I used all the time in that D&D game you ran."

"That was a 4th edition game. Magic missile is a decent choice in that game - not that it's terrible for 3rd ed, but still. And I'll say bravo on your 18 intelligence and taking two flaws. But you forgot to fill in most of the sheet, including alignment, and you chose 'pathetic dexterity', which is a bad choice of flaw for a wizard - I mean, an 8 in dex is bad enough, but dropping it down to a 6? Noncombatant is spot on, though. But come on, choosing Toughness for your feat? FOUR TIMES?!?!"

"Umm, no, that stuff was all filled in already. And I didn't choose any feats - I didn't have the book to look at, and I didn't really care. And the section for writing in your character description was way too short anyway so I just filled up the section for feats with more description. I guess I wanted to show how tough my character is? Oh, and I don't remember what the alignments are - I guess I'd be in the middle."

"True neutral?"

"Yeah, that."

I blink and stare as the character sheet in my hand fills in the named alignment. "They're self updating! OK, these are going into the safe!"

::Is it safe to come out of the corner yet?::

"Archie wants to know if it's safe yet."

"Wanna play dress up with Archie-chan!"

::I'll take that as a no.:: Archie huddles farther into the corner.

"So, what does it mean? I'm a wizard, I can cast magic missile. You're a whatever, and knowing you you can do all sorts of ridiculously powerful things."

"Erudite, and for the rest of the day all I can do is remember things really well. Don't ask. As for what it means, I'm not sure. I mean was it just us? Are we the only ones... I'm gonna call Sean."

... One phone call later ...

"Nope, we're not the only ones. Sean is a Cleric. I am somehow completely unsurprised."

"OK, I can see that. All he ever talks about is politics and religion."

"Sophie is a warlock. Sean is shocked - I think I caught them in the middle of an argument about the state of her soul or something. But from what I gather they've already called a couple of their friends. This isn't just us - hell this isn't even just local. They called somebody they know in Florida. Fighter, apparently, but he found a spiked chain in his car when he tried going to work." I blink, and look again at my character sheet. "Oh, apparently I've got some equipment in the closet. That'll come in handy once I get some xp to spend."

"Wait, we got to buy equipment? How much money?"

I shake my head. "Character generation is over - pretty obviously. And you don't get to keep starting cash you didn't spend." I point at my wife's blank equipment section. She pouts cutely.

"Well, what do we do now? I mean, after we feed Candy breakfast."

I pause to think for a minute. This may be the first chance I've had to think all morning. I considder what I know, and what it means. I realize that this is huge - it's bigger than huge - it changes everything. It's bigger than me, but that's never mattered to me before. I'm in the middle of it, and if I don't ride the wave I'm going to drown in it.

"First, we're both calling in sick. No school for Candy. I'm going to set up a meeting. I'd do it at Worcester Polytech, but this is bigger than the SFS can handle, and we'll need as many people as we can get together. It's got to be in Boston, MIT, that'll be the biggest place hit. Love, call Nu and that crew, let them know that I'm setting up a gathering at noon, umm, the Kresge Auditorium probably. Yeah, definitely noon at the latest. Tell them all to keep their character sheets somewhere safe. I'll call the worcester crew, and send out emails. Then, I've got some programming to do."

[Urpriest]

I flick off the alarm and stare blearily at it. Nobody is depending on me going in to work right now...I could just sleep in...and after all, I have that D&D game coming up...

D&D game?

I distinctly remember filling out a character sheet for one...I shake my head, clearing my thoughts: No, that was a dream. Which explains why there's a character sheet next to my alarm clock.

THERE'S A CHARACTER SHEET NEXT TO MY ALARM CLOCK!

After tumbling out of bed, disentangling the covers, and smoothing them back out, I peer at the sheet. It looks suspiciously familiar, like the one encountered in the dream. I reflexively try to fly, or summon an attractive woman. No luck. This appears to be the non-fun type of dream. If it is a dream. Better go to work anyway.

As I walk over to the dresser, I stumble over a small object. Picking it up, it looks like it weighs about one pound, but I have no idea what it's for. Oh wait, I remember: it's a masterwork tool of diplomacy.

"A MASTERWORK TOOL OF DIPLOMACY?!"

One of my housemates thumps on the wall, alerting me to the fact that I said that out loud. I whisper to myself,

"Of all the cheesy bull****..."

I pick up the character sheet again. Yep, masterwork tool of diplomacy. I must have been in a really cheesy mood. And if that's here, then that must mean...

Lifting my head, I catch sight of a dangerous-looking gleam on top of the dresser, and instinctively duck. Lifting my head again, slowly, I see a crossbow, thankfully without bolts in it. There are eight cases beside it, which I am going to guess contain bolts. With a resigned expression on my face I walk over to the closet, where I find a suit of studded leather hanging next to my winter coat. I can already see from here the packet pouch from my old LARP gear is bulging with what I suspect are not biodegradable bean bags.

I try to levitate again. Nope, not a dream.

"Come on Matt, calm down, pull yourself together..."

Why did that work better than it usually does? Am I...(I look down at my character sheet again). Yep. I'm motivating myself. Great.

I hide the goddamn crossbow and bolts, finding and almost stabbing myself with a dagger in the process. After a moment's hesitation I forget about going to work today. The laws of physics can wait till tomorrow. I think they just changed anyway.

I boot up my laptop, getting ready to figure out whether what happened to me is happening anywhere else.

[Cleisthenes]

I hit the Snooze button on the alarm clock, hoping to get a few more minutes of sleep. I don't have any plans for today, after all. Wait a second, when did I set my alarm...?

“Ow!”

At least, I would be going to sleep, but I can't really ignore that tugging sensation on my hair much longer.

“Fine, fine, I'll get up, you win.”

I slowly roll out of bed, and see my cat sitting there, acting innocent as usual. When she sees I'm getting up, she starts meowing pretty loudly. Yep, she wants food.

I stand up, grab my glasses, and then go scour the pantry to see if I've still got cat food left. Wednesday's usually grocery day, isn't it?

“There we go.”

I open the last can, dump it out onto a plate for her, then slowly proceed with the morning routine.

A shower, clothing, and breakfast later, I figure I'll head over to the grocery store and pick up some more cat food, cereal, and whatever else I need.

“Oh fine.”

There's only so long I can ignore the elephant in the room. It might have been easier if I hadn't tripped over them on my way to the kitchen, but the suit of armor, shield, weapon, and backpack full of supplies that I had purchased in that dream were hard to overlook when they're right next to my bed. For some reason, it didn't really bother me as much as it probably should have.

I change out of my current clothes, put on that cold weather outfit thing, which is sufficiently warm for wintry Colorado, and figured that I'd look fairly inconspicuous in it, while at the same time I'd probably draw attention to myself from anyone else who was having these issues, for better or worse.

I grab my character sheet, and check what spells I know.

“Let's see, the standard 0-level ones, Shocking Grasp, Color Spray, Detect Thoughts. Those should work.”

I open up my wallet, empty it out such that I've got about $100 in it, and put the rest of the money next to my character sheet in my sock drawer. I also left the rest of the equipment next to my bed where I found it.

“To the grocery store, then. I'll just keep an eye out for others on my way there.”

The nearest grocery store is about a mile away, so I'll just walk. It's only been an hour or so, so I doubt people have had enough time to get drunk with power.

[MHCarpenter]

*Smack*

I guess alarm clocks are supposed to be obnoxious. They did a good job on that front.

The table next to my bed is a cluttered mess. Along with the alarm clocks my usual pile of “necessities” is strewn across and alongside my table. Empty water bottle. Towel. Lamp. Pens, a wallet, my Organic Chem textbook, my usual character sheet that I like to sleep next to when I feel lonely….

…. Wait.

I didn’t fill out a character sheet last night. And more importantly, I don’t sleep next to them. I barely know how to play 3.5 anyway. I mean, enough to know the basics, like in that dream.

Oh. That dream.

It had to have been a dream. But the sheet is there. If the sheet is there, it wasn’t a dream, but it had to be a dream because I was asleep.

Whatever. I go ahead and brush my teeth while I look at the sheet. Standard issue stuff, I think. Morningstar, whatever. I gave myself chalk, you know, to “make seals” and all that jazz. Spit. Rinse. Put my toothbrush down next to the chalk and small chalkboard I typically keep in my bathroom.

…. Wait.

This is stupid. My first thought is a practical joke, but no one has the key to my hotel. I came to Colorado for some relaxation away from people. No one should even know I’m here.

I look back into my room, and Tome of Magic is flipped open. I didn’t bring that. I only have it on PDF…. Someone’s in my room.

I check the closet, the bathroom, under my bed. It’s not a big place. I call out a few times, but again, no one answers…. So….

I glance down at the book. It’s flipped open to the Binder section. Just like my character sheet, but then it’s not like I can start assuming anything’s making sense in my room anyway.

The seal for Naberius is glowing faintly. Like they used some holographic ink on the picture or something. That’s kind of cool for them to do, nice marketing for the “Tome of Magic” I suppose. Maybe I could draw it. It didn’t look too bad.

Besides, Naberius was one of my favourites. I had been Regional Greek Myth champ back in Jacksonville and he reminded me of Cerberus. Nine circles, okay, a bunch of curvy horizontal lines…. It’s like a big molecule, I can do this. Now the seal is burning in my mind’s eye, like I memorized it ages ago. In fact, I hadn’t looked at it since I started sketching. And it was done.

Being a Binder seems easy, I thought. Draw a seal, call out a name dramatically and BAM, you’re in action. Feeling more than a little silly, I clear my throat. Heck, spells and the like sound better in Latin anyway:

“Naberi, te voco, et iam mihi tuum potentem monstra! Sit te mihi servire! Ego potentem habeo, te imperare!”

Well that was dramatic. Nothing particularly meaningful appeared. I reach over to pick up the board and dust it off…. But my hand won’t reach.

“I recommend you remain where you are, mortal.” Smoke began billowing out of the chalkboard, setting off the smoke detector. Suddenly it retracted, forming a very corporeal dark shape of a crane, which promptly crashed into the seal. A dark shape walked out of nowhere, a distinct three-headed dog. Two heads began eating the idiot bird while the other one simply watched me.

I was beginning to freak out about that alarm, hoping that no one would come in and see the demon dog munching on a bloody crane in my hotel room.

“How about a game, Mortal, while I digest?"

“Yeah, fine, whatever, shoot.”

“Try answering this riddle. If you get it right, I’ll be happy to serve you for the day:

“Sometimes I’m strong, sometimes I’m weak,
But never someone’s fool,
There is no language I can’t speak,
Though I never went to school. What am I?”

[roll0]

[MHCarpenter]

“What the heck kind of riddle is that?! It doesn’t make any sense. Bilbo made this look easy. Uh…. Typhon from myth could speak every language, but he wasn’t ever really weak. Uh, otherwise you need some schooling. I just dunno.”

If dogs could smile, that one did. “Very well, Mortal. I think we’re about to become the best of friends....” He laughed darkly and shifting into a cloud of smoke, rose up from the bloody spot on the floor and shot straight into my chest.

[sciencepanda]

"This is silly, isn't it?" Adam asks the large fossil smilodon skull that is sitting on his desk.

He completes the character sheet, in tall, scribbly handwriting before waiting for it to respond.

...

Nothing happens.

Half disappointed, Adam picks up his backpack and prepares to head off for work.

But wait. It is considerably more weighted then usually.

Putting it down, Adam looks inside and pulls out...

A crossbow.

Now, he has barely even seen a crossbow in person, let alone wielded one, and yet he somehow gets the sense that if he were to point and shoot at something, he is pretty sure he would be able to hit.

Putting down the crossbow, he reaches down into the back, and pulls out some sort of shiny rock...

BAM!

Suddenly, a flash if information, streaming directly into his head.

Grease, Demoralize, Inertial Armor...

Wait. No. That doesn't make any sense

Further information...

Boost Construct...Neutral Good...+2 Ranged Attack Bonus...Energy Ray...

All of the information that he had written into the character sheet is now firmly ingrained in Adam's mind.

And despite all logic, he is now firmly aware that he is capable of each act within the character sheet.

"No...This is absolutely ridiculous."

He glances back at the paper on his desk, before thinking.

I can't believe I am about to do this...

Turning on his computer, he types in www.wizards.com.

"Here! Contact info!"

Adam dials in the phone number listed on the website, and waits for a dial tone...

[JerichoPenumbra]

*smack* Ugh... I hate that alarm. Classes don't start for a few hours I could sleep a while longer.

.... [a few minutes later]

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP *smack* "I thought I turned that alarm of-"

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP *smack* BEEP, BEEP, BEEP *smack*"WHY WON'T IT TURN OFF!?"

Oh... it's my phone. Who on earth is calling me this early in the morning? Schyler? What does he want?

"-- It's early--What is it-- An awsome emergency?
Then I feel a surge of knowledge and competence. Like I knew the complex and intricate formula for spells or that I could probably do a backflip right now. And then I spot the character sheet next to my bed and give it a quick glance over.
"Your Right! This is an awesome emergency. What should we do now?"

[Cleisthenes]

I step out of the apartment complex, only to be met with a quick gust of wind.

“Sheesh, even with this outfit, it's cold out in Colorado.”

Three seconds later, I'm on the ground with an intense, but short-lived migraine, followed quickly by knowing that there are roughly 414,358 inhabitants of Colorado Springs.

“That's pretty useless information, how did I know that?”

Oh, right. I must have invested in a Knowledge skill or two on that character sheet. Well, I guess I just need to make sure not to mention the outdoors or anything if I get that headache every time.

Hmm, so I have the ability to know what that character knows, but if I'm the character I made in that dream, what's to prevent that dream from being reality? It was far more like it, after all. The concept of magical powers doesn't really fit the modern world, but if that dream was the reality, am I dreaming now?

If so, why can I feel pain, as evidenced by my cat pulling my hair out?

What if this is reality, but someone else's version of it? What if I'm actually a character, and don't really exist?

Regardless of the answer, I have to operate on the assumption that I am really me, and that this alteration of reality is in fact an alteration of reality. Otherwise I'd just drive myself insane.

“Hmm, perhaps there's a way to amuse myself, at the very least, and potentially show myself that I'm not just hallucinating most of this.”

I stand up, and head back into my apartment room, and search around the backpack until I find the spell component pouch that I bought in the dream. I strap it around my waist, underneath my clothes, and exit my apartment once more.

“So, how does spellcasting work, exactly...?”

“I guess I'll start small.”

I cast Ghost Sound to imitate the sound of a few people knocking loudly on the door at the end of the hall from me.

"So I don't need anything to actually make that? I just have to will it to occur? That's pretty cool."

Satisfied with the ensuing racket, I rush down the stairs on my end, hoping to avoid any potential conflicts with whoever was yelling back on that end of the hall.

I stop for a brief moment before I leave again, and decide that I shouldn't necessarily change my routine just yet, but I definitely need to be careful when I'm outside.

The chance that this is isolated to me is quite small, and random chance can't cause this much of a change in the world. I'm quite curious as to what did cause all of this, and what other plans it might have.

In the meantime, I walk briskly east toward the grocery store, carefully watching everyone I pass by.

[MHCarpenter]

Cough, cough. Ugh, Naberius' smoke smells like tobacco. I hate tobacco.

“Excuse me sir, is there anything wrong here? Smoking is forbidden in this part of the hotel room…. I hope you realize that we’ll have to ask you to pay for damages. And if such nonsense as….this happens again, we will have to ask you to leave our premises.”

A very snobby and very annoyed staff member was standing behind me. He had a fairly large nose and was absurdly skinny. Typically not wanting to cause confrontation with any employees, I sheepishly began apologizing for the mess, assuring them that it wouldn’t happen again, when my voice was cut off in mid-sentence.

What the heck are you doing, you moron? said an all-too-distinct, all-too-familiar growl in my head. You’re making us look stupid. Here, let me do this. You just relax, “Master.”

“Very well, then,” sniffed Skinny, “As long as you understand the consequences of-“

“And I hope you understand the consequences of being such an obnoxious, toothpick, sorry excuse for half-a-man, bill-faced, snot-nosed, primrose-d, pointy-clothes-d, water-hosed moron who couldn’t break his way out of a paper bag unless he PECKED his way through it with his GI-GAN-TIC BEAK of a nasal organ!” said… I?

What the heck was that?! I thought, directed at what I assumed to be Naberius inside of me.

Don’t worry about it, he growled, let me do my thing.

“Well!” exclaimed Skinny. “I hope you realize that this constitutes verbal abuse of an employee and that-“

“AND I hope you realize that the sound of your nasally voice constitutes verbal abuse, frankly, to anyone who has to listen to that grinding, annoying, highly unpleasant sound. Why don’t you attempt to make yourself useful for a change and clean up this mess?”

“I suppose that it might be easier for both of us if I simply sent someone up here to-“

“Fine. But more importantly, it’s easier for me. So why don’t you scurry along, enjoy a bit of birdseed, and get back to work?”

He coughed, “Er, very well, sir. Sorry to trouble you. Not wishing to cause a scene, no, not at all, my apologies, right away, yes, free of charge, of course…” he mumbled, having for whatever reason been cowed into submission by… me?!

Wow, Naberius. You’re kind of a jerk, aren’t you?

Yep. Deal with it. I got us out of paying, right? And cleaning? And, most importantly, pretty much looking like pansies. You’ve gotta learn to prioritize, Mortal. I think you lucked out when you voluntarily gave me a reasonable amount of control in our partnership.

I don’t think “voluntarily” is the word.

Details. Come on, let’s get out of here. This place smells like tobacco, you chain-smoking smokestack. It kills your... well, OUR lungs, you know….

[Schylerwalker]

After hastily pulling on some jeans and t-shirt, Schyler shrugged into his trench-coat and slapped on his rather battered fedora, while still talking to Roarii on the phone. "Okay, so if it's not just me, it's not just you either. I was afraid of that." He scanned the room quickly, and then hastily buckled the spell component pouch around his waist. It looked odd, and he didn't think any of his current spells actually HAD any material components...but better safe than sorry right? Hell, I don't even know what one of those spells DOES, I just wrote it down cuz I heard it was a good bard spell! he thought, pouring some food into a bowl for his cat, Rafe.

"Alright, here's the deal. We're going to meet at that one park...you know, the one between House K and the Whole Foods, the one with the wooden arch thing? We walk past it all the time. We can't meet near ANYWHERE like House K, Chaos, or Greyhaven...they're teeming with people like us. Thankfully, Eudemonia and GOB haven't opened, so we're safe there. Don't call anybody else." He stepped out of his apartment, locking the door behind him. "Oh, and...can you cast spells? It could be important..."

[JerichoPenumbra]

"No I can't. At least not at the moment. I planned to go into wizard when making the character after a few levels of Factotum. I didn't think I would be the character."

While talking to Schyler, Roarii puts so socks and shoes on after donning some clean clothes. He grabs his coat and red scarf, making it a bit of a habit to leave his keys and wallet in the pockets of his coat, and tosses his bag over his shoulder. As he is walking to the door he pauses to see a thick book. Goes and grabs it and rifles through the pages realizing it's a blank spell book.

*Won't be needing that for a while.*

He notices the character sheet right next to where the book was.

*Better bring that*

"Hey Schyler you still there?-- I think it might be a good idea to bring our character sheets. Probably a good idea to bring those and not leave them around. I don't know what'll happen to us if something happens to the sheets but I don't want to find out."

[Tyndmyr]

*presuming most people have at least frequent casual access to media*

TV: "...and in breaking news, two young individuals have been caught attempting to rob the Bank of America this morning. The twins, Ashley and Thomas Lewis were apprehended just minutes after leaving the scene of the crime. We go now to investigative reporter Sandra Sutton, live at the scene.

Sandra: Thanks, Terri. While we don't know yet why this twelve year old duo attempted armed robbery, Officer Evans is here to comment on the case.

Puzzled looking officer: ..no, no, the vault was still locked, but the boy *points* had his arms full of money, he was dropping it everywhere as he ran. We're still trying to figure out the details, but fortunately, despite the crossbow, nobody was hurt."


Online: Gaming forums everywhere are in chaos, as moderators struggle to keep up with a rising tide of off-topic spam. A few themes emerge as frequent among these posts. Most common are the confused, astonished posts, as startled individuals attempt to verify their experiences, and discover they are not alone. Next most common are those who have grasped the essentials of the situation, and have focused on personal power. "I AM YOUR FUTURE PUN PUN" declares one poster, while others make less boastful plans for the future.

Finally, an omnipresent post has appeared in every category of every major gaming forum, promising a grand meeting for those affected at MIT this afternoon. The original poster has gone silent after rapidly cross-posting this initial message.

[loser0ll]

I woke up this morning. That's nothing new - I do that pretty much every morning. Well, a lot of the time it's closer to the afternoon, but you get the idea. But today, I woke up early - and there were a few things new. For one thing, the pile of strange things laying next to my bed. There was a huge spear, a suit of very genuine-looking chain armor, a backpack, a bible-looking book... and flasks of things that probably violated his lease pretty badly.

I turn over, expecting to see my fiance there - except that she was gone. That's right - since the semester was already over for her, she had gone to spend a few day's at her mom's place while I finished up my exams and got everything set up for a couple of weeks away for the holidays. She probably isn't even awake yet, as late as her and her mom generally sleep.

But the strangest thing was probably that odd sensation... he felt like he should do something. It was early morning... and for some reason he felt like praying. So he grabbed his small cross and began to think deeply about things - anything and everything. The state of the world, the state of his soul, religion and science... everything. It was like he was opening himself up, letting knowledge flow in and out of him.

By the time he finished, an hour had passes - it felt like it had only been seconds though. But the time wasn't important. The important thing was that he understood... everything. The world had changed - and he had changed with it. He jumped onto his computer, wanting to verify what had happened - and found out he wasn't the only one. Apparently, there was some massive meeting at MIT scheduled. Of course, MIT isn't exactly in Mississippi, though... how could he get there?

He began searching around - there were local bus stations, and bus companies chartered buses for long range trips. Maybe he could find a group of like-wise changed people who might be interested in splitting the cost of a chartered bus headed for MIT, so they could all save some time and money?

[Schylerwalker]

Schyler shook his head, paused, realized that Roarii couldn't see that, and said "No, I don't think so Roarii. I already have a bunch of theories about that." He looked both ways before crossing Telegraph and heading down Woolsey to their meeting place.

"I mean, think about it; obviously some huge power organized all this, right? God, the Gods, aliens, robots, the god of alien robots...whatever. They're...the DM. Now, if I scribbled something on my character sheet that shouldn't be there, do you think the DM would let that slide? I mean, if whatever we wrote on these sheets was true, somebody would have already made themselves fifty billionth level and turned the world into a giant Vienna sausage or something."

He snorted, hanging up the phone and making his way over to the lattice-work wooden arch and leaning against it, looking around for Roarii. He inconspicuously experimented with prestidigitation, marveling at the power now running through him, minor as it may be at the moment...he smelled first like jasmine, then honeysuckle, mint, barbecue sauce, the ocean, sunshine...it was utterly fascinating!

[JerichoPenumbra]

Roarii gets to the park and watches Schyler play with his cantrips with a simple yet apparent glee. He hopes he doesn't get like that when he gains a level in Wizard, if he does gain a level.

"To finish my concern before you hung up on me.*Glare*I'm worried about what would happen if the sheet got damaged, destroyed or lost. Not to see if we can be munchkins and get away with it. Now what should we do? If this happened to you and me, and who knows what's going on at Greyhaven, Chaos, and House K, where does this stop? Who else was affected?"

[Schylerwalker]

Schyler shrugged, looking unapologetic. "Dunno. I don't think ANYTHING would happen, to be perfectly honest. Besides, if you're really worried about it, we have time." He shoved his hands in his pockets, looking at Roarii with surprising solemnity. "This is bad, man. War is coming. I can feel it in my bones." He looked out over the rooftops of Berkeley and Oakland, looking pensive. "Think about it man. I mean, how many gamers do you think there are within one mile of us, let alone the whole world? There might be guys in Irag right now shooting eldritch blasts at each other, for all we know. I shudder to think what's happening in more religious places with a gaming population."

"Just think about all the crazy rules you could break. I don't know what's going to be happening to the laws of physics, but let me tell you, I'm not looking forward to guys flying in boats!" He gave a nervous laugh, and then got serious again. "Okay, here's what we're gonna do. We call EVERYONE. Email everyone. Facebook everyone. Get on the Playground, I'll get on my other forums. Somebody's probably already organizing some big meeting, but we're going to have our own if it's too far away. The first place that comes to mind is the Double Tree, but even that might be too far away."

He took off his hat and scratched his head, thinking about it for a minute. Man, this is huge. Bigger than you, bigger than anything you've ever heard of. "Any ideas? Greyhaven might be big enough. Barely."

[sciencepanda]

...Only a busy signal on the other line.

"Figures."

Adam goes online, trying to make heads or tails of the situation. He checks his various blogs, rss feeds, etc.

Chaos. Sheer chaos. The whole world is a mess, trying to figure out just what has been going on. Scientists are baffled. Message boards have practically gone into fits with this news.

He tries to find any sympathetic figures he might be able to talk to in person.

There is some sort of meeting at MIT, but that's too far to help right now.

Hmm. Where might other d&d related people meet?

"Ah! That's it!"

Adam calls in at work, presumably to explain that he can't make it in. The line does pick up, but he can only hear a series of explosions on the other end.

"Also figures."

Without a better idea of what to do, he heads out of the house, and after half an hour of waiting for the F train, and then another hour of crowded subway rides, finally makes it to Manhattan.

Alright, let's see how the folks at Forbidden Planet (http://www.fpnyc.com/store/) are dealing with this.

[kestrel404]

"So, you know what to do Love?"

"Yes. Everything's packed. I go to my Grandma's. If I hear you're arrested I head for Sharon's and stop calling in to work."

"Good. I love you. And I'll miss you and Candy, but I'd rather have you both safe than in the middle of a war zone. Don't forget to drop the server off at Turin's."

"I know. He's stealing wireless from like a hundred people with those cantennas of his. No way that server will get traced back to his house."

"Exactly. I love you. I'll miss you. You too, munchkin. Come here and give Daddy a hug."

...

A few minutes later, I've got the car packed. Crystals, weapons, various other gear all stashed in the trunk. The burnt CDs, unmarked but in neat sleaves, are piled into a couple of boxes in the passenger seat. I've got a wheelbarrel strapped to the roof to haul them all - I don't plan on parking all that close to MIT. A backpack with a few essentials, the cat has food for a month and the basement door is cracked open so she can escape if I don't get back, and the dog went with Cathy.

I'm still certain I'm forgetting something.

::Must I really wear this, sir?::

I glance over at Archie. Candy finally got her way - she always does - and I let her play dress up with the Arctine. I suggested that she use her halloween costume. It was a bit of a tight fit for the small creature, but she managed.

I manage to suppress my laughter as I nodded at the little guy. He just made for a perfect Jawa. And in the crowd we were going to be in, I felt pretty confident that no one would comment on the midget in the Jawa costume. Especially since I'd given him a lightsabre (maybe I could get one of those to really work some day?) and sat him down in front of the TV to watch the Trilogy, so he'd know the lingo. He could even make a passable attempt at english, so long as you didn't expect him to make any sense.

Shouldn't matter too much where we were going. I'd taught him a couple of phrases of Japanese, so his disguse as "Midget Star Wars Superfan Exchange Student" was complete. As long as no one peaked under the costume.

Next stop, MIT.

[Urpriest]

While I wait for my computer to boot up, I get dressed and brush my teeth. Somewhat more awake, I being to check news updates, emails, anything that can give me any idea of what is going on.

The following is my interpretation of the "D&D is a convenient approximation for real-world physics" statement. If this is not how you want things to work, just let me know.

I also idly play with my spell component pouch. I reach in and pull out some dried bat guano.

Eww...wait, spell component pouches are essentially infinite, right? Hmm, I wonder...

I reach in to the same spot, keeping my eyes on the bat guano on the table. The spot, surprisingly, is...empty. But as I instinctively reach deeper in the bag, I find another pocket with bat guano in it.

So it's not infinite...just very large, and intuitively cross-referenced. Cool. The mundane world still works, sort of. Hmm...I guess this means I don't need to be worried about my parents getting killed by their cat.

Once online, I see the post on Giant In the Playground Forums. There's no way I'm making it to MIT by noon...but looking over my character sheet, I get another idea. After checking for meetups in the New York area, I post the following:

I will be attempting an extended perform check outside the 9/11 Memorial starting at 6:00pm, to test the gp/$$ ratio. Look for a bearded guy doing monologues. Please show up if you're in the area, we all have much to discuss.

My brother isn't online yet, but I leave him an email telling him not to panic and to contact me as soon as he can.

[MHCarpenter]

“Thanks a lot!” I said, paying for the sandwich and leaving the stand. The chicken smelled delicious.

Come on, Mortal, let’s do something interesting. You’re the most boring host I’ve ever had. Naberius’ growling complaints were beginning to annoy me.

You, chill! I need to figure out what to do.

Well pulling the coat tighter is something to do. It’s freezing!

Shut up!

I pulled the coat tighter anyway. I was beginning to miss Florida. With any number of people exhibiting previously unnatural powers, it was hard to know what to expect when we went outside, but for the most part, Colorado Springs looked fairly normal. Aside from the occasional person sporting some swords or some armour, of course, but relative to what could be happening. Like explosions everywhere, people going a little nuts with Magic Missiles, -

Like a Magic Missile would kill us. You’re so depressing. And those sentence fragments are driving me crazy.

Oh right. You. It would be nice to have at least the illusion of privacy, you know. And not have my thoughts spell-checked.

Tough break, kid. I’m staying for a while, and you’ve got some wacky stuff in here. I guess it’s all to be expected from an adolescent male like you…. And you ordered chicken?! I hate chicken. And tomatoes. It’d be nice if you at least considered what I wanted. You're being insensitive.

Be quiet!

I mean, I have to taste it too. We could compromise. I’m sure there’s a flock of cranes somewhere nearby; even with your feeble body, you could probably snag at least one. Maybe if it were limping or something… or really old.

I said shut up! I don’t even have most of the information on what’s happening to me or on what scale or to which people, or any of that!

Okay, let me help you out a little and maybe you’ll relax. I need to watch our blood pressure. So as far as you know, all kinds of people around us might suddenly be getting new powers, right? But you don’t really know if that applies to everyone or just to people who’ve played this game. Either way, I’m sure you game-people have some place to gather. I’m thinking that’s a good place to start. At least having a destination will get your mind off of Magic Missiles. Hopefully. Spazz.

I’m pretty sure I could have thought of that myself. In fact, you probably just copied that stuff as I was thinking of it.

Like I said, who needs details? Now get that iPhone out of our pocket and find us a meeting! And PLEASE take the tomatoes off of that sandwich….

[sciencepanda]

Revising past actions:

Adam is about to head out to the comic store, but he sees another post on the GitPF board.

"Ok, someone else is planning on a Manhattan meet-up. Could be promising."

After a long day of sketches, and resisting the terrible temptation of wasting up his new powers when he may need them later, he makes his way to Manhattan.

[Cleisthenes]

“And that should do it.”

I struggle to place the last of the groceries on the kitchen table. I didn't really plan ahead with regards to where I was going to put the grocery bags, so I had to carry them.

I didn't notice anyone acting particularly strange on my route, so it's safe to assume that most people don't have these abilities, or the ones that do are good at hiding them.

Then again, would I really notice a fighter-type unless he was randomly killing someone while wearing armor? Best not to dwell on it.

My cat, Claire, comes out from my bedroom to see what I brought in.

“This ought to last us for a few weeks, Claire. I'm not sure if anything big is even going to result from this, but best to play it safe.”

Speaking of playing, I turn on my laptop and open up Ventrilo to see if any of the people I usually play LoTRO, DDO, or WoW with are online.

“Nope, no one. I guess it is a bit early.”

I check my computer's clock: 11:35.

“Huh. I guess my alarm was set to go off later than I thought.”

I check around some of the video game forums, and notice a fairly large number of recent posts in the Off-Topic sections.

“Well, no way I'm making it to that MIT meeting, not that I'd buy a plane ticket for it anyway.”

“No meetings are scheduled for this area yet, as far as I can tell.”

That's odd. Recalling the population of this city, it's unlikely that an insignificant number of people were affected...

“Future Pun Pun? I'm curious as to how he'd pull that off.”

I didn't have any plans for today, so I guess I have time to explore around to see what the world is up to.

Troubled by the lack of anything going on in the immediate area, I put my laptop on Sleep mode, and get up from my seat at the table.

I refill the water/food bowl for Claire, and then take another look at the contents of the backpack from the dream.

“Well, there's the armor. Bedroll, Blanket, Grappling Hook, Rope, Food, Blanket, Scimitar.”

I remove the bedroll and blanket from my backpack, and pack up the armor, grappling hook, food, and rope.

“I better hang onto this, just in case.”

I gently sheathe the scimitar in its scabbard and hook it onto the back of my belt, a bit uncomfortable at the thought of carrying a weapon. Hopefully, the cloak will conceal it.

I check my wallet. Down to a few bucks and change. Oh well, I guess I should be able to defend myself fairly well from the common mugger these days. I fill my wallet with the cash that I had hidden in my sock drawer, and stick it in a side pants pocket. I then put on my backpack.

“So there aren't official meetings that I can see. Where's the nearest game shop to where I live?”

Before the sentence even finished, I realized what was about to happen. One short but painful headache later, I knew that the nearest one was “Gamer's Haven”, and its address. Fitting name, I suppose. I guess I'll head there.

My cat looks up at me as I open the door.

“I'll be back in a little while, Claire. You hang tight here, okay?”

In response, my cat simply hopped up on the table, and rested her head on her front paws.

“Don't worry, I'll be fine.”

I shut the door, lock it, and quickly make my way down the stairs, out the building, and outside to meet the unknown.

I just hope the unknown doesn't turn out to be a jerk.

[Shovah]

Matthew woke up just like any other day. Having dreams of fantasy - or character building ones for that matter - weren't anything new, but as he sat up, still half awake, things seemed a little odd.

He felt just a little more nimble than before, a little faster. As he looked around, he saw a backpack and a character sheet he didn't remember leaving around.

"Hmm.. I wonder.." he thought as he reach into the backpack. "A crossbow?? The hell is going.." he muttered as he pulled out the strange weapon, and yet.. he felt like he knew how to use it.

Getting more curious, he reached over and picked up the character sheet, and there it was - Light Crossbow, along with 60 bolts of ammo.

Starring at the character sheet for a couple of minutes, he got a new idea.
"This is too weird.. can I.." he was cut short, as deeper knowledge of magic and the very planes of existence rushed into his mind.
"Well.. I guess that's what a knowledge check feels like"


"So.. I'm a level 1 Artificer. Neat. Not too much I can do just yet though" he mused as he powered up his laptop.
He had a few high priority searches to carry out.
"First thing's first, I need to find out about.. this." and his most basic questions were solved almost instantly by the near-overloaded message boards of spam. "Guess I'm not the only one."

While browsing, he stumbled upon a post about a meeting in New York. "That's not too far from Ottowa, I think.." and after a short search to confirm that, he began looking up travel prices to get to New York quickly, while also searching for hunting areas near New York.

Once that was sorted, he sent a PM to the man organising the New York meet-up.
To Urpriest
So, you're organising this meeting at the 9/11 memorial in New York? I'm not sure if I can make it - I'm in Ottawa at the minute, and even here I'm not a local. But I would love to meet up, and maybe try to figure out what is actually going on here.

If you would be willing to meet up some time other than your preformance, please let me know, as it would be great to have someone to work all of.. this out with. Things are going to start changing.


"This is gonna get real, real interesting"


For Tyndmyr
I'm leaving my travel costs/times - and any avaliable sport for me - up to the DM, of course.

[Urpriest]

I type up emails for my sister and my parents, telling both about what I think has happened. My sister will probably think I'm joking, but my parents at least are likely to take me seriously. I warn them that it might be wise not to anger the cat, though that could prove unnecessary. With that done, I go downstairs, idly tossing the masterwork tool of diplomacy, and continue to work. I leave emails for everyone I can think of and post on any forums that don't yet have information (including non-D&D forums, like richarddawkins.net and randi.org). I also respond to Shovah's PM.

Shovah:
I'll let you know what happens. It would be a good idea for us all to keep in touch as much as possible...the world could get quite dangerous quite fast. By the way, I think physics still works, most of the time...with mundane items anyway. I've had a pretty cool preliminary experiment on the subject, but since it could just be a coincidence I won't say anything definite yet.

Eventually, Christine (one of my housemates) comes downstairs. As I see her emerging around the bend I begin to wonder...what does a +20 diplomacy mean, exactly?

Christine points to the masterwork tool of diplomacy.

"What's that thing?"

"A conversation starter. Listen, I woke up this morning in a really confusing situation. It's complicated, but there are some things, important things, that I need to figure out. My life could end up being very different from how it's been in the past, and I need to have an idea of where it's going. So I was wondering if you could...help me figure that out."

"By doing what, exactly?"

"I need you to kiss me. I can't explain why, but it's vitally important for me to figure out what I need to figure out. I know it sounds ridiculous, but as a friend, would you do this for me?"

Diplomacy check: [roll0]
Also, this seems like a pretty risky situation, at least for an average first level PC, so I'll suggest this before I see the result of the roll to forestall accusations of bias: if this works, do I get XP?

[kestrel404]

MIT is a beehive of activity. For a Wednesday at lunchtime that could be considdered normal. What is not normal is the sheer volume and variety of people here. It's ten minutes to noon and there have to be over a thousand people milling around outside the Kresge Auditorium. I can see campus security watching the milling horde like circling hawkes, but fortunately nobody's started trouble yet and the people who did bring weapons have at least tried to make them look fairly inconspicuous - if you didn't look closely at the handle, you'd never guess that the leather-clad overweight barbarian's greatsword wasn't really a boff weapon.

I would have gotten here sooner if I hadn't had to pick up the large crate of printed pamphlets I ordered. The modern world is terribly convenient - send an email to the right company and for a few hundred dollars you can get a stack of five thousand printouts (attached as a word document to the email) in under an hour. I thought that so many would be total overkill and that I'd be stocking these pamphlets for the next dozen meetings, but from the size of the crowd I was glad that the company I bought from had a minimum order size that I normally considdered ridiculous.

I headed into the side door of Kresge and found Greg waiting for me. Greg was the reason I chose Kresge in the first place - he did regular performances on the stage and he was a stage technician ninja. He had everything set up for me on stage an hour ago. I handed him my digital camcorder. "Remeber, try not to get anyone in the crowd. The only face that should be identifiable from this video is mine - I don't want anyone put in danger by this stunt."

"Sure. Only you get to play the hero. A very noble sacrifice. Also, you get to hog the stage, get all the glory, and probably turn into some kind of folk hero all at the same time." Greg smirks at me. "Better you than me."

Smiling back, I respond with "Of course. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, you know I can't pass up a chance like this to show off. Go open the doors up front. I need to pass this stuff on to the local club officers."

After handing off my little giveaways to the SGS vice president and librarian with instructions not to pass them out until after I'm done on stage. Then, as the auditorium starts to fill up, I get up behind the podium. I'm a bundle of nerves, but I've always been pretty good at looking confident at least.

Waiting for the crowd from outside to spill in and settle, I try to count them. A lot. At least double what I expected, which might or might not be a good thing. After a I hit about a thousand in my head the crowd is only trickling inside - probably a lot of the latecomers don't even know what's going on.

Finally, I decide it's time.

"Thank you all for coming, and welcome to the First Meeting of the Union of Gygax! I know none of you want to hear a speech today of all days so I'm going to keep this simple - I'm going to tell you the rules, and then I'm going to tell you why I made these rules. Anyone who wants to stay for the second meeting an hour from now can argue with me about the rules then!"

I look at the crowd with my most serious face on. "The first rule of the Union of Gygax is that you don't talk about the Union of Gygax!" I wait for the chuckl and I'm not disappointed. I grin at the crowd for a second before becoming serious again - only one fight club reference allowed or else it becomes corny. "The second rule of the Union of Gygax is... the Union of Gygax stand UNITED!"

Now the crowd isn't chuckling anymore. I hear a few cries of 'yeah', as well as a murmer of confusion. At least one of those is Archie, somewhere in the crowd, cheering everything I say. "The third rule of the Union of Gygax is that experience points come from Union Quests!" This gets a reaction. I knew it would. This is the point I'm going to be arguing about for the rest of the night.

Before anyone can speak up I barge onward, overriding the rising voices. "The fourth rule of the Union of Gygax is that you protect your sheets! And the fifth and most important rule of the Union of Gygax is that we DO NOT - KILL - MUNDANES!"

This gets a puzzled buzz, but as expected it also gets a lot of immediate support. While someone not familiar with the gaming culture might find it surprising that a demand for nonviolence is met with loud cheering, anyone who's spent time around as many gamers as I have knows that one of our most vocal and politically active subgroups is the hippy/pacifist faction. Hippies tend to have Gamer kids, and those kids had hippy values. So now I get a standing ovation - from a portion of the audience at least.

I wait for a few beats for the crowd to settle down. Then I'm speaking again, not letting the emotions in the room settle before I move on.

"Every person in this room is a target. By the end of the week, every goverment in the world, including our own, will want to know who each of you are, what makes you tick, what you are capable of and how they can control you! Your best defense right now is anonymity. The Union of Gygax can act as an aegis, shielding the innocent, but only as long as they remain hidden under that shield. This meeting is going on Youtube, and it's going to be watched by every geek, spook, jock and nut on the planet within a month. And for a little while, the Union of Gygax is going to be seen as a joke. Until they stop laughing, we have time. Every night we're on the top ten countdown of the Tonight Show, we're not on America's Most Wanted! If they think we're a joke for claiming we have magic powers, LET THEM! We need time, but the first person who goes to the media and PROVES that they have magic will cut that time short."

"Which is why we need to stick together. Once the public gets word of what's going on and really starts to believe, we're going to be in trouble. I don't know how they'll react, but you can be darn sure that it's not going to be by sending us flowers! We're outnumbered by the Mundanes a hundred to one at least - possibly a lot more. As long as we stick together though, they can't get us alone and take us one by one. The Union stands together, or we each fall seperately."

"The only thing we can do to protect ourselves is to build trust from the public. If a thousand of us go out and hunt wolves for experience, wolves will be extinct tomorrow! If a thousand of us go out and catch criminals vigilante style, then a couple hundred die in a population that can't take those kinds of losses, AND we end up with stricter laws against vigilantes by the end of the week - not to mention what the criminals themselves might do! And if a thousand of us decide that the fastest way of getting power is to kill others of our kind, then we would be in a war for our very survival that same day! The best way to prevent that is to stick together and find better ways of gaining experience than killing and war! To this end, I've got a quest for every single one of you waiting by the exits. Each of you will have to come up with your own solution and I'm sure that it's a challenge worthy of experience points!"

"This brings up the importance of your sheets. I'm pretty sure I saw one change by itself. I'm betting that when you gain experience and levels it will tell you what you've gotten, or maybe you can fill that in yourselves! Even if not, your sheet tells who you are, what you are capable of, and how much effort it will take to kill you. Protect your sheets!"

"Finally, the reason I called you here in the first place! I want each and every one of you to realize, right now, that you've got a chance for immortaility! Not the figurative sort where you live on in history, but literal existence until the suns burn out and beyond! Anybody who wants to live forever can become a Deathless - the Good form of undead from Eberron! Or some other method, it doesn't matter - there are literally dozens! But you can only do that if you live long enough for us to figure out how to do it. Not only are we going to make ourselves immortal, we're going to make everyone else immortal too - and THAT is why we CANNOT KILL. If we're going to convince the general population that we are worth more alive and free than dead or in science labs, we're going to need them to believe that we're on their side too!"

"That's what I called you all to here. Anyone who wants to join the Union, or just wants a bit of experience and a helping hand with thinking about what to do with themselves now, grab one of the pamphlets near the exits. If you want some private communications and a way to stay hidden, grab one of the CDs - I burned them myself, all freeware, no viruses. Thanks for coming, and I hope to see you all back in an hour! SFS Officers, SGS officers, come backstage after you grab your packets and we'll hash out how the next meeting is going to work!"

There. Done. Now the hard part starts.

Archie: Aid another (Diplomacy) [roll0]
Glenn: Diplomacy [roll1]

[sciencepanda]

After watching the video on youtube.

"...Interesting. They do bring up some good points. But still, they aren't asking a lot of the right questions. Like why this is happening, for a start. But I guess I'll bring up some question when I head to that meeting thing later on."

---

Time passes. Adam eventually arrives in Manhattan, at the 9/11 Monument, as the message said. He is there a bit early, but he begins to scan the crowds for the beardy guy, as stated earlier.

[JerichoPenumbra]

"Well if this has happened to us and who knows who else, there's probably news about it of some sort. I mean neither of us has gone to any of the forums or checked the news. Maybe someone has already set up a meeting?"

Hopefully a meeting has been planned to explain what is going on. But thinking of all the chaos and destruction that has and will happen just today, the world may very well be tossed such a hectic madness that even the far realms would be proud. There are people who play D&D everywhere in the world from tons of different fields of expertise,... even the ones in prison. Roarii takes a breath of the cold winter air and tries to think of something to liven their spirits. Nothing good can happen from dwelling in worry no matter how justified it is.

"What do you think Vin Diesel is?"

[Schylerwalker]

Schyler burst out laughing, no doubt causing some early commuters to look at the two oddly clad young men in alarm. "Oh, I don't know Roarii. Part of me wants to say bard, to be perfectly honest." He wiped his eyes, looking cheered up. "Alright!" he said, clapping his hands together. "Alright, let's go. You on the Playground, me on my other forums, and both of us contact everyone who we know who might be affected and can get to Greyhaven in...let's say two hours, tops!" He looked out into the street, scratching his chin; his fingers over the stubble he hadn't had a chance to shave this morning made a rasping sound.

With a sigh, he clapped his hat back on his head and nodded briskly to Roarii. "Alright, enough chit-chat. We've got work to do, man!" And he went running off, arms pumping, long legs eating up the yards from lower Oakland to the hills...

[Cleisthenes]

Half an hour later, I arrived at Gamer's Haven.

Unfortunately, the door was locked and the lights were out, with an “Out for Lunch” sign on the door.

“Oh well...”

I turn, about to leave and go elsewhere, when I get a feeling that I would be missing something if I left right now.

“I guess it wouldn't hurt to stay a little while. Perhaps they'll be back soon.”

I sit down on the sidewalk by the door, trying to find something to do.

“I wonder how somatic components work exactly. I know they only require one hand, so how do I do them...?”

I start fiddling with my fingers, trying to figure out how that works, and continue for a while, hoping that something just “clicks”.

“You know, I'm kind of surprised people haven't gone around killing anyone to try to get experience yet. You'd think that at least some people would be actively seeking to gain power, through the only real means known.”

Perhaps there's some news on it. Oh well, I'll give the store an hour, which would make it around 1:30 or so, then I'll go check the news stations.

[MHCarpenter]

Naberius is officially the most intrusive, condescending, upbrasive, arrogant, haughty, obnoxious –

I can hear that, Not that it’s not anything I haven’t heard before. You hosts are all just jealous of my charm and wit.

Yeah, that’s exactly why we think you’re annoying.

Using my astute powers of perception, I think I sense a hint of sarcas-

I turned the corner to the shop, a place my iPhone had labeled, “Gamer’s Haven” – appropriate, I thought, given the circumstances. I had half-expected to see a huge crowd of people in front, but no such thing. Instead just some dorky guy sitting on the sidewalk, fiddling with his fingers or something. I walked past him without looking down, I figure it’s best not to mess with those introverts when they’re doing their own thing…. The shop looked pretty closed

And is therefore useless to us. Time to go, alright, move along.

I glanced back at the guy sitting on the sidewalk. He seemed innocent enough, even if he was a spellcaster. Besides, there was something familiar about him.

Why are you interacting with people?! I thought you were terrified of magic missiles. And anyway, his whole body language right now says “Do not disturb.”

I continued my streak of successfully ignoring Naberius and sat down next to the guy. “Hey, you get some funky powers this morning? I seem to have summoned an obnoxious daemon, but hopefully you had some better luck, huh?”

[Cleisthenes]

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice someone walking past me to the game shop.

Perhaps he works there...?

As usual, my paranoia causes me to cease playing with my fingers and focus all my attention on his actions, without indicating it.

He seems to notice the shop is locked, and then proceeds to sit down next to me.

“Hey, you get some funky powers this morning? I seem to have summoned an obnoxious daemon, but hopefully you had some better luck, huh?”

Great. The first guy to indicate having the same issues as me summons demons. Chance is astoundingly cruel to me, sometimes. That voice is quite familiar, though I can't place the growling.

Well, I may as well try to make conversation before he tries to stab me.

“I suppose. I just went with a more basic class.”

Perhaps it's better if he doesn't know what class I actually am...

“I picked Fighter, for simplicity's sa-”

I turn to face him as I give my response, which, naturally, causes me to become speechless before I finish.

After all, the chance of randomly running into someone you know, but haven't seen in nearly two years, is rather small.

Less still is the chance that it'd be in a city they don't live in and that you're new to.

Less still is that it would happen on a day like this.

“M- Michael?! What are you doing here?”

“Why did you pick Binder, of all things?”

"And when did you start smoking?"

[Tyndmyr]

Adam dials in the phone number listed on the website, and waits for a dial tone...

If you want to roleplay this out, you can pop off a PM to me, probably easier than going through it via posts.


The chance that this is isolated to me is quite small, and random chance can't cause this much of a change in the world. I'm quite curious as to what did cause all of this, and what other plans it might have.

In the meantime, I walk briskly east toward the grocery store, carefully watching everyone I pass by.

Nobody seems particularily noteworthy, at least yet. Of course, you don't yet know how widespread the event is. The news you view later will be listed at the end of the post.



"I need you to kiss me. I can't explain why, but it's vitally important for me to figure out what I need to figure out. I know it sounds ridiculous, but as a friend, would you do this for me?"

She tilts her head a bit, looking at you quizzically, then shrugs and gives you a kiss on the cheek.


MIT: The speech seems fairly well received overall, with people paying a bit more attention than usual during a lecture or event. Most even refrain from playing with light or prestidigitation during the short speech, though a few suspicious flickers are visible. After the speech, though, the hubbub immediately rises, as people eagerly discuss with their neighbors. The crowd keeps growing as latecomers arrive, and join the throng.

News: "and the pollen count hit a record high this week, with fall conditions miserable for allergy sufferers everywhere.

In breaking news, we have received information of a prison break. *cut to correspondant*
Early this morning, Martin Vorrman, an inmate convicted of three counts of first degree murder, as well as many lesser charges, escaped from the United States Penitentiary in Marion, Illinois. This "Supermax"-styled prison hasn't had a successful escape in years, and authorities caution us that he may still remain hidden somewhere on the prison grounds. They are unable to explain how he escaped from solitary confinement, and have refused to comment on rumors of assaulted guards. "

[sciencepanda]

Well, I suppose I will PM you, then.

Also, the second post about the roommate kissing wasn't from me, even though you wrote in your post that it was. Just felt like clarifying.

[Urpriest]

"Do you feel particularly loyal to me now? More so than usual?"

"What? No, you just sounded like you needed help...I'm not...Did you do something to me?"

"OH! It's the Giant's rules! That explains why I had an urge to offer some sort of bargain."

I pause to ponder, then notice her annoyed glare.

"Sorry. I woke up this morning more convincing than usual, and I wanted to know how far I could take it. More specifically...this is going to sound ridiculous...but if I really have Diplomacy +20..."

Again the glare brings me back in focus.

"Several people around the world woke up with the powers of Dungeons and Dragons characters. This thing," pointing to the masterwork tool of diplomacy "appeared in my room, as did several other objects that a D&D character might have. My character to be specific. Anyway, my character...me now, I suppose...is really good at convincing people of stuff...I don't use magic or anything yet, I just can make good arguments. Or something. If you want, I can show you some discussions of this on roleplaying forums. I'm going to go in to New York this afternoon and give a speech about what's happened. Several other people affected by this should be there. This could be the biggest scoop the Three Village Patch has ever had, if you want to come along."

Diplomacy [roll0]

Regardless of whether she decides to come along or believes me, I do the following:

I spend the rest of the morning and early afternoon brushing up on monologues, in particular Hector's monologue from Tiger at the Gates. The monologue is an anti-war piece that emphasizes the finality of death.

I pack up my masterwork tool of diplomacy, one of the daggers, and a hat, leaving the rest of my gear behind. While I briefly consider taking the crossbow, I decide rather quickly that if I have to use it I will be in more trouble than it will be able to solve. I take the train in to Manhattan, arriving early enough to grab a hot dog near the 9/11 Memorial before my speech.

Since there are a lot of bearded people in New York I am probably not very noticeable before I begin speaking, unless the area is relatively deserted. If sciencepanda's character has some way of recognizing me or does something particularly dramatic then we can talk before the speech, otherwise once he's done with what he's doing today I'll lay out my actions.

[MHCarpenter]

“Kevin?! What the heck?!”

Who’s Kevin?

Kevin’s my old roommate from college. I haven’t seen him in quite a while.

Oh.

“What’ve you been up to?!”

[sciencepanda]

Adam puts down the phone, thinking heavily about this situation.

Hmm, so this is widespread then... Well, I suppose the only way to get a better sense of what is going on is to meet someone else about it. I guess I may as well.

Finally, after a great deal of thinking, and an annoyingly lengthy bit of travel, Adam arrives at the 9/11 memorial and begins looking for anyone who might fit that description online.

[Urpriest]

Is four ranks in perform enough to set up a performance? Let's find out!

Tossing the hot dog's wrapper in the trash, I look at the facade of the 9/11 Memorial. After a moment of indecision, I pick out a relatively clear, visible spot, set out my hat, and seed it with a small amount of money. I put my backpack carefully within sight, and begin.

The first monologues are Shakespearean, chosen to make it obvious that I'm doing street theatre rather than simply insane. As each monologue finishes I pause to watch the crowd before beginning another one. I'm frantically looking for people who look nerdy, who look "medieval" or magical, who look in some way connected to whatever's going on. I try to let my skill ranks make the decisions: how long to perform, which monologues to use...it feels more like deciding arbitrarily than the judgements of some outside force, though. Still, I weave something together, something infused with a theme of the sanctity of life and the absurdity of murder. The climax is Hector's speech from Tiger at the Gates,

"and I accept death neither as a punishment or expiation for the coward, nor as a reward to the living!"

Perform: [roll0]

As I finish Hector's speech a small wavelet of confidence filters over the crowd, and I pause to assess.

Marshal's Aura of Motivate Charisma is now extended to everyone in 60 feet, giving them +3 on Charisma checks.

[sciencepanda]

As if on cue, some crazy guy begins reciting Shakespeare. In spite of this, the performance seems to grant some sort of inexplicable burst of confidence and self esteem.

Eh, I might as well.

I approach this person, and nervously ask.

"Um, are you perchance the guy who had posted that meeting on the Giant in the Playground forum?"

[Urpriest]

"Yes. And before you ask, yeah, I realize the performance was a dumb idea. Four ranks in perform (act) don't make me actually capable of entertaining street theatre. It got your attention though, didn't it?"

I turn to the rest of the crowd, to the extent that there is one. I'm a little embarrassed, but I pull myself together and continue.

"If you stuck around for that...well, whatever that was, I'm pretty sure why you're here. You're here because something happened to you this morning: a sword appeared by your bed, you found prestidigitation lodged in your brain. You, in some inexplicable way, have become a Dungeons and Dragons character, with all of the powers that comes with being one. In my case, this," and here I pull out the masterwork tool of diplomacy, "appeared in my room. By the way, in case you don't recognize it, this is a masterwork tool of diplomacy. I'll let that sink in a minute. The lesson we can draw from this is that this isn't a game. We don't have a helpful DM around to clear up ridiculous interpretations of the rules and limit our power. I still wouldn't recommend saying Pazuzu three times, though. Any archfiend you could call would be real, and a real demon probably wouldn't be the kind of thing you could bargain with. I'm actually really interested in knowing whether extraplanar beings even exist: are there any Binders or summoners here?"

"Regardless, we're in a very difficult and confusing situation here. Several of you have probably seen the Union of Gygax speech. I agree with some of it. We can't go killing people to gain XP. We can't go killing animals to gain XP. Doing either would not only be idiotic, it would be wrong. No matter what it says on the alignment section of your character sheet, you're still a person. You're still you. Remember that."

"At the same time, gaining XP will be difficult. Convincing someone to do something they wouldn't ordinarily do is not enough to give you XP." If Christine came along, I give her an apologetic glance. "Because of this, I doubt that the Union of Gygax quests will work. They aren't the DM, they don't decide when you get XP. To get XP you'll have to do something risky, something meaningful, and you may have to discover that on their own. I'd love for some scientist to discover a minimum action required to gain XP...but in order to do that, we need hypotheses to test, and that means we need to start by just trying things out and seeing what works."

"You shouldn't feel pressured to gain XP fast. It's useful to be aware of the rules and aware of what you can do, but don't feel the need to read the Tier system and create a high-Tier character. Don't feel the need to overplan your next few levels. There isn't a DM out there throwing level-appropriate monsters at you. Any challenges you face will be your call. Don't feel the need to farm XP. Look at this city. In D&D terms, New York is a planar metropolis. That means there are epic level commoners in this city! Several sourcebooks contain stats for high level commoners and aristocrats, and you can bet they didn't get to that level by killing hordes of monsters. Do what you want to in life. Pursue that which fulfills you, and that which makes you happy. You've got a chance to totally change who you are, and I suggest you investigate that choice. Do that, and you will gain levels."

"Finally, the Union of Gygax suggested that you attempt to maintain secrecy. I disagree. You'll notice I'm meeting you in public. [If Christine is there, I also mention the presence of a journalist] We need to know as much as we can about this as quickly as we can if we are going to keep the world safe, and that means everyone, us and the "muggles", get to contribute. Transparency is the only way we will keep safe. That means we should get to know eachother. I'll start. My name is Matthew von Hippel."

As I understand it, the Giant's rules for diplomacy against a group require rolling individually for each person unless the group is organized in some way. With these in mind, my diplomacy results would form a mostly even distribution around 30.5. If you want me to roll for specific, noteworthy people (Adam, for example, depending on the rules for social skills used on PCs), I can.

I hold out my hand to Adam.

[MHCarpenter]

This is the re-uniting conversation I have with Kevin. In short, we decide to go to Illinois and take a look at the scene out there.

Michael: “Kevin?! What the heck?! What are YOU doing here? And I don't smoke.... Stupid, smelly dog."

Kevin: "...Dog?"

Michael: "Sigh. I'm a Binder. I picked a spirit to, you know, 'bind' and he's.... Not my 'best friend' so to speak. That's not important, what have you been up to?"

Kevin: "Living here for a year or two, I suppose. Shouldn't you be working on getting into medical school by about now?"

"Also, which spirit was it? Some of them do have some bad attitudes, from what I recall."

Michael: "Well, yes, I'm applying early, but I'm still reviewing for the MCAT just in case. You're doing the freelance programming thing, right? And I summoned... Naberius. And if any have bad attitudes, this guy does. I messed up the binding too."

Kevin: "I see. Yeah, I'm just dabbling about, I suppose it's a living.

Naberius? Hmm, if you screwed up the binding, I hope you don't run into a stage anytime soon.

So, any plans for your newfound powers? This place seems dead, so no sense hanging around here. We can talk on the way back to my apartment, if you'd prefer."

Michael: That sounds great! Yeah, no one showing up at THIS game shop. And what do you.... What was that about a ... stage?

Kevin: "Isn't there some compulsory thing about talking on a stage when you screw up Naberius?"

Michael: "There is?! Well, no matter, I doubt there'll be any stages anywhere unless your floor is having a political rally."

Kevin: "True. Have you heard of anything going on out in the world? Or is nothing else going on?”

Michael: "I dunno. I think I sadly stopped all news contact when I got into undergraduate school, but given what's been happening, we prolly ought to check. I'll search some stuff on my phone while we walk."

Kevin: "All right. Let me know if you find anything."

Michael *Walking: "So what ARE you, anyway? I don't buy Fighter for a second.”

Kevin: "I never was good at lying. Duskblade, really this time."

Michael: "That's the gish thing right?"

Kevin: "One of them, yeah. All I've got down about it so far is how to make random noises to harass people."

Michael: "I see we're putting our powers to constructive use. Hey, there was some thing at MIT.... it popped up on all the forums. Some 'Union of Gygax.'"

*Hands phone with video and pamphlet document to Kevin

"What do you think?"

Kevin: "Meh, I don't think that's how experience works, usually.

Moreover, I find the promise of experience as incentive for getting others to join a bit silly.

Then again, I'm not much of a fan of organizations of any kind, so it might just be me."

Michael: "There's also some weird stuff going on, like some 12-year-old robbing a bank. I wouldn't connect it to anything, except that he had, you know, a crossbow on him. And wow, some inmate escaped a max-security, solitary confinement cell. A serial killer, looks like he assaulted some guards. You can't tell Michael that this is a coincidence."

Kevin: "You know, I find it more silly that a 12 year old was trying to rob a bank than worrying that a serial killer escaped from a maximum security prison. Though I guess that prisoner situation should get taken care of by someone.

What class do you think they were? Logically, I'd go with Rogue, but I know there's some weird stuff that can be done as a Wizard or some other class."

Michael: "I take 'assault' to mean something a little more physical than a Wizard might do, but it says they didn't want to comment. Maybe he did some even wackier stuff to them that they can't figure out yet. If he's that powerful, I can't imagine that he's a level 1 character at this point, assuming he IS a character. If it gets out of hand, a guy like him could cause some serious issues, especially for people without powers.... Who's gonna deal with THAT?"

Kevin: "I dunno. I don't think the A Team actually exists, so that option's out."

Michael: "Shoot. Maybe that Union of Gygax can stop him?"

Kevin: "No, their quest is to think and recruit, remember? Also, he might not be that powerful. Given how little health a random guy acting as guard might have, the 1d6 Sneak Attack might be enough to knock some of them out, if he were a Rogue"

Michael: "Still knocking out everything with a series of excellent points, I see."

Kevin: "Heh, at least it's more elegant than knocking them out with a stick, though I might have to end up doing that at some point, depending on how this whole D&D in real life thing works out."

Michael: "You think we can fight now? Heck, we could go take him out ourselves if that's the case."

Kevin: "Well, I suppose we technically could, assuming he's a level 1 character, but I don't think I'm at the point yet where I personally could kill someone."

Michael: "I prolly don't much have the stomach for that either. We could at least try to warn people about him, though. At least mention that he might have unnatural powers?"

Kevin: "You think anyone would actually believe us?"

Michael: "You can do some magic, right? They might."

Kevin: "The only kind I can really do without hurting someone are essentially magic tricks, I think. Ghost Sound, Flare, Dancing Lights, and a few others. They might not buy it. Although, I guess I could technically find him without finding him, depending on the prison's setup."

Michael: "Elaborate on that last bit for me..."

Kevin: "Well, theoretically, I could use my once per day chance at casting Detect Thoughts, and just keep focusing it every few seconds to maintain it, and then I'd get a positive or negative reading on thoughts within a 60 ft. cone. I wouldn't know his location, but I'd know if there were someone there, even without him having the opportunity to save."

Michael: "Wow. That could totally help the guards if we could do that. Naberius seems to be subtly indicating to me that he might be able to convince the guards to give us a shot."

Kevin: "Well, there is a bit of a downside to the spell."

Michael: ".... Yes?"

Kevin: "It's blocked by a foot of stone, an inch of metal, or a thin sheet of lead. All of which would probably be prominent in a prison. In addition, I technically only have a 70% chance of succeeding on the spell in the first place."

Michael: "It's at least worth a shot. But you probably have some pressing issues here preventing you from leaving on a whim. I'm on vacation."

Kevin: "I take the concept of 'Freelance' somewhat seriously, I don't really have permanent employment. I haven't applied to any requests lately, so I'm in the middle of just about nothing."

Michael: *Smiling "Are you implying that we are totally going to Illinois to help catch a serial killer who may have supernatural powers?!"

Kevin: "No, that would be silly. That's why you just suggested it. But, if you insist..."

Michael: "OH YEAH! Road trip!"

Kevin: *Air guitar

Michael: "Then again. We could fly too."

Kevin: "Yeah, that'd be quicker, and possibly cheaper."

Michael: "So it's settled! We leave as soon as we can!"

Kevin: "Yeah, I'll need to set some food out for my cat, first"

Michael: "Oh right. How could I have forgotten?"

[kestrel404]

Glenn considdered the piece of paper in front of him. In some ways, it was just a simple (and sloppily written) document, a list of rules, regulations, motives and ideals. In another way it was the birth of something that might change the face of a planet.

It had taken him 8 hours of shouting, pleading, wheeling and dealing, but the end result of the second meeting of the "Union of Gygax" - who's name had fortunately been ratified by a slight majority, since it was already at the top of most of the documents he'd had printed - had resulted in an organizational charter and over five hundred pledges of membership. There were another thousand or so people who'd been there at some point during the day and were still debating, and even more who'd heard about it and had already sent e-mails offering support, wanting to join or start their own club, and even some offers of money.

Glenn was seriously tempted by that last, but it wasn't something he could decide on his own. He'd started out thinking that he'd be the leader of this thing - it was his idea, after all. But he should have known better - after a few others had gotten their say in the matter, he'd been effectively turned into a figurehead. The gamers he'd gathered might have been some of the most social-minded of the lot, but they were also less than trustworthy and he knew only a few dozen of them well enough to call them friends, and that wasn't nearly enough to get him elected.

Instead, the Union would be run as a distributed democracy, with an overall charter - the document he now had in front of him - which would guide the formation of this group and any other that wanted to form under the title. It was his job to type it up, format it nicely, and get it posted onto the newly purchased website. Grunt work, yes, but also stuff he could do before going to sleep tonight.

A few ideas thrown out had really surprised him. Passing the Union off as a new Augmented Reality Game without ever stating that it was a game was genius. Those who were 'in the know' would get that the 'Augmentation' to reality was real, while those who didn't know would do little more than give the PCs funny looks. And when the world finally realized what was going on, the Union would be able to claim that they'd been fully public the whole time.

The group who wanted to act as official liasons to the police, fire and other local emergency groups was also not something he expected - actually getting a couple of Boston PD officers as members was certainly going to make unofficial relations a lot simpler.

The committees to do, well, everything did not surprise him in the slightest. For ideas on real quests, he'd read a passage from the DMG on examples of 'Urban encounters' (Pages 101-102). While a lot of them involved violence, several of them were pretty easily adapted. So a committee had been formed to come up with ideas for quests. And someone had claimed we needed a list of official positions and leaders, and a committee was formed to figure that out too. Eventually there was a committee formed to determine which of the other committees were really necessary, and how long they should be taking to come up with their answers. The only committee that was formed after that was the committee to determine an alternative to committees. That was Glenn's idea of a joke, but it turned out to be quite popular.

Still, despite all of the weirdness, side-issues, and insistence that certain in-jokes be included in the charter, everyone had finally agreed on a fairly simple document, more a statement of purpose than a real constitution. It was basic and full of ideals and most importantly it was something that they could all agree on - a rallying point for the days he knew were coming.

Looking at the document one more time, Glenn got in his car and left. He still had work to do before he went to sleep, and tomorrow would be a busier day than today.

[Tyndmyr]

MIT:

The crowd continues to grow and mill about as the day fades into night, with many small groups evident among the masses. Not satisfied with the official going ons, many impromptu groups verbally spar over various topics of interest until late in the night. Latecomers are eagerly informed about the days events, generally accompanied by a heavy dose of opinion. Local pizza delivery places are backed up to a two hour wait, and while a few campus cops have wandered through the gathering, they're much more interested in ticketing the sudden influx of vehicles without proper parking permits.

News:

"Grave Robbery! A pair of individuals in Agawam, Massachusetts were apprehended by police while exhuming bodies from a cemetary. Initial reports indicate that several coffins had already been emptied, and the suspects had a large supply of gems with them, which may be the motivation for the crime."

"Street performance in NYC has residents puzzled. As you can see here, this 50 foot long display stating only MAGIC IS REAL, has been visible amid Times Square for the entire evening. As you can see from the people walking through it, the message appears to be insubstantial, but it poses a visual hazard to motorists. Whoever is responsible for this publicity stunt is likely to be disliked by those delayed by today's traffic.

MCCarpenter: Sounds great, just pick up when you like, as you face no unusual difficulties as you start your trip.

Urpriest: A wild variety of reactions are received from the crowd, ranging from a few shouts of "You're crazy", and walking away, to people nodding and listening intently to your every word. There's a fair amount of people in the middle too, quietly listening, while standing some distance away.

[sciencepanda]

I shake Matthew's hand.

"Nice to meet you...Matthew..Matt...Matthew. I guess you'll have to excuse me. I'm still really trying to work the whole situation out in my head. I mean, I agree that it's pretty doubtful that we'll all be able to keep this situation, for long anyway.

"I had spoken with a representative at Wizards of the Coast earlier today. She isn't aware of what has happened yet, but it was pretty clear that a good amount of others already are."

"So. There are a few priorities that we should probably establish. First, we should all try and make this transition happen as peacefully as possible. I'd imagine that some people are going to want to act out with their new powers, but this is not a good idea. We need to establish a way to get everyone to act responsibly. Otherwise there is just going to be chaos, and people are going to get hurt."

"Now, once that's been established, we can get to the good part." I rub my hands together gleefully, an evil little grin on my face. "I've been looking through the SRD earlier, and with just things from that alone, frankly the implications are staggering. Infinite purified food. Healing of the sick. Enchancing our own intellect beyond their usual limit."

"We've been given these new abilities. And within the next ten years, if the world is not a perfected utopia, that is frankly the biggest waste of human resources that I can imagine."

Once again, I give a bit of a smirk,

"So what do you say?"

I consider for a moment, and then ask,

"Hmm, just out of honest curiosity, what class are you anyway?"

[Urpriest]

"Marshal, for now. I'm a bit of a diplomancer, but I've figured out there are houserules or the like in place to keep it from getting out of hand."

I glance to the crowd.

"Really, you can take your hands off your ears, I'm not going to make you a fanatic."

"And you? As I said, it would be nice to meet some casters."

[sciencepanda]

"Marshal? I'm afraid I am not familiar with that one. What book is it from?"

"In any case you are in luck." I take a little bow, "I'm a psion."

[Urpriest]

"Marshals are an obscure little class from the Miniatures Handbook with a specialty in motivation. Everyone here is getting +3 on Charisma checks from my Marshal aura, if you were wondering why you feel unusually confident."

"A Psion, huh? Quite handy. Any of your powers have particularly obvious visual effects?"

[Schylerwalker]

Schyler hurried to the house in upper Berkeley, Greyhaven, a popular and at least locally famous congregation of pagans, geeks, and gamers. It was still early, but he still wanted to get there before the riots started -- if they were going to. Berkeley had a healthy gamer population. He shuddered to think exactly how many people at the college and the high school nearby suddenly had new-found super powers.

Was this a dream come true, or a nightmare? He'd always fantasized about having these powers, whether on Earth or in some place like Faerun or Eberron. But to actually be granted those powers, along with perhaps millions of other people? It was a fantastically terrifying thought.

Hoping all his friends would be okay, he strode through the front door of Greyhaven, unconsciously using prestidigitation to clean off the dust and sweat of travel and to smooth down his coat and hat.

[sciencepanda]

"Innnteresting. And yes, I can create astral constructs. Although I am hesitant to do so right now. It's a public area and I don't want to start a panic. It would be like shouting 'fire' in a crowded theatre. Plus, we're all level one right now, and since at this point I can only use three powers a day, I'd prefer to save them for something useful."

[Urpriest]

"Oh, I wasn't suggesting you pull out a construct now. However, it will be nice to have an obvious way of proving that we can do magic. It's important that we get the world taking this seriously as soon as possible. If you stick around after the meeting, I have a plan of how we could start doing that."

"Would anyone else like to introduce themselves? As I've said, I'm curious whether there are extraplanar creatures that we can make contact with."

Tyndmyr can decide whether anyone steps forward, and whether there are any other odd developments at the meeting. So long as nothing particularly radical happens, I say the following to Adam and any other interested parties after the crowd has dispersed.

"Maybe you've heard of the JREF Million Dollar paranormal challenge. It's a prize offered by the James Randi Educational Foundation for anyone who can demonstrate paranormal abilities under controlled conditions. No doubt there are thousands of people applying for it right now, swamping their small organization. That's not the way to get attention, but I've got a related idea. There's a prominent member of the organization named Joe Nickell. He's something of a recluse, but he's a brilliant and rigorous investigator, very highly regarded. If he could be persuaded to come out of hiding and endorse a paranormal claim, that would get the scientific community to sit up and take notice. I think with my Diplomacy bonus and your obviously paranormal abilities we should have a good chance of making that happen."

[sciencepanda]

"Sounds like a plan. Do you have any particular method of getting into contact with him?"

[Urpriest]

"Not as of yet. I'm not very familiar with Psion powers, but some sort of telepathic message might be a good way to get his attention. Since Sending would be out of reach of a first level caster, though, I'm guessing a power like that would be out of your reach as well."

"One idea we could follow up on: he's associated with the Center for Inquiry. They've got an office in NYC, and their main office is in Amherst. Someone at one of those two places should know how to get into contact with him, and it shouldn't be impossible to convince them that we have something he'd want to see."

[Cleisthenes]

After discussion, Michael and I decide to spend the night at my apartment to see if any other developments occur overnight that may prove interesting.


Should anything of note happen before or at the beginning of Day 2, assume we are actively watching the news and checking online regularly to see if anything interesting is going on. We're really not sure where to go with the prison thing.

[Tyndmyr]

Urpriest/Science:

One of the bystanders declines to introduce himself, but claims to have summoned a badger earlier. He thinks it must have been celestial, but it looked more or less like a normal badger for the short time it was there. He's apprehensive about the idea of summoning in public, though.

Schyler:

Chaos awaits, but fortunately, it's the type of chaos typically involved when large numbers of gamers argue emphatically over a given topic. In this case, the center of attention appears to be a female gnome, standing on a table in the middle of the room, who is outspokenly defending what she calls her "right to alter self".

Urpriest:

The internet is of help, and you easily find the addresses of the locations of the Center for Inquiry.



OOC: Im posting up some news that happens during the night/morning, but if you're on a good topic from the previous day, don't feel rushed. Just move ahead when you're ready.

News:

Violent Crime on the rise. Police report over a dozen murders yesterday in new york city alone, and several local towns have also reported violence. In many cases, anachronistic weapons appear to have been related to the crimes. Police believe these crimes to be related, and claim to have a lead.

Unidentified policeman, voice changed: It started with pets, see? You don't see a Rottweiler shot with an arrow sticking out of him very often, but we've had more calls regarding dead animals yesterday than we've had in a month. Some were just wild stuff, but there was that bear killed at the central park zoo. He had arrows in him too. But now, people are turning up dead. It's got to be related.