“Uh, maybe a Gnoll?” Troy replied.
“Oh, um, Gnolls are an evil race in this edition.” Mark said, frowning. “Sorry man.”
So he’d evaded that question. Now would be a great time to exit the conversation. But as he was about to leave, another part of Troy realized he could exploit Mike and make his wish come true in a more round-about way. So instead he stood awkwardly, eyes contemplating the ceiling as though in deep thought, one finger tapping his chin.
“I…guess I could make an exception, though.” Mark began, “It is weird that they stopped making all races except gnolls one singular alignment.”
Oh.
Troy had meant it as a throwaway line, knowing Gnolls were still evil. He hadn’t realized how lenient Mike was as a DM. I mean, on one hand that was really cool of him, giving him what he’d asked for, but on another…he didn’t want to be pigeonholed into a hyena man. Or turned into one, he hastily added. It was one thing thinking about exploiting Mike, and another to be confronted with it immediately.
“No, no, It’s cool.” Troy held up a finger, “I’m partial to Leonin or Minotaur. The furry beast races, mostly. Not into scalies or Bird people.”
“Right,” Mark nodded to himself. “So you’re a furry then?”
Troy nodded, “Yup. Sorry if that’s a little weird.”
“Troy, we accept all kinds of people at my table.” Mark said solemnly. “You can be who you want and no one will make fun of you. DM’s promise.”
Troy stared at him and then cleared his throat. “Thanks man, that’s real big of you. Hey, you know what, I’m just not entirely sure what I want to be. Can you send me a list of races?”
“Oh, yeah, of course.” Mark nodded rapidly. “No hurries, no worries! I’ll send you an e-mail and their write-ups for my world.”
“Your…world?” Troy wasn’t sure if he liked the sound of that.
“It’s a DND Modern setting.” Mark smiled. “You know what, I’ll do a write-up on Gnolls and send them to you too. Big Haida fan, huh?”
Haida? Oh, from that anime, the sad hyena simping for the tiger girl who played guitar. Troy shrugged, “I mean, Gnoll Bard Rockstar was an idea, but I’ve always thought magic songs were a little…lame.”
“So, like, an Archetype that lets you do damage with sound or something.” Mark was jotting down notes. “I might have to cut the spell list down. That can get really overpowered.”
“Um...” Troy was wondering what Mark was doing. He could see the notes and they weren’t just about the new class. It was referencing Troy directly. “Are you writing up my back story too?”
“Oh no, this is just a template, you’ll fill out the rest and hand it back to me.” Mark explained. “Every hero has a myth behind them. You can’t just walk around with sonic guitar skills out of nowhere.”
“You’re…writing my myth?” That sounded like a way to firmly shift reality the way Mark wanted.
“No no, I know you’re undecided, and like I said, you’re responsible for writing the rest of it. You can look it over and make changes at lunch.” Mark's eyes gleamed. “Man, this is such a good story. Do you like it at this office?”
“If I wasn’t at this office, I’d never have met you…pal.” Troy swallowed.
Mark glanced up at him and then back down to his notebook. “Yeah, you’re right, can’t change too much. Maybe a rough patch, band broke up. That’ll explain why you’re level three. We’ll work a common and two uncommon magic items into your backstory somewhere. Maybe the guitar…”
“But what if I don’t wanna be a Gnoll…” Troy tried to weasel out of it, vibe check Mark a bit, distract him.
“Bah, most people end up settling for their first idea they have! But hey, Minotaur country rock, Leonin glam rock, and I kinda see gnolls as more grunge rock, they all work. It’s no big deal. And the Gnoll race is kinda inspiring if you choose it. I’ll make sure of it.”
Troy watched Mark work. He was meticulous, filling in spots and leaving others blank, presumably for Troy to fill out. An entire section was blank where Troy supposed his early life would be, then his training as a Bard. If Mark altered reality, no matter what Troy chose in the end, he’d actually be…super cool. Mark's goal appeared to be changing the world into an Urban Fantasy novel. One of his own creation.
Troy wasn't sure if he was totally sold on any of this, but at least he’d delayed the inevitable. He had until lunch. If he stuck around.
“Just send me that write-up.” Troy said, “Want coffee?”
Mark didn’t look up from his writing. “Yeah yeah. But you’ll love Gnolls. I swear, not too good, not evil, complex, interesting, got their own politics. I’ll sell that idea back to you at lunch, I swear.”
“Alright, I’ll just be…going now then…” Troy walked away, searching for Dustin, and pondering his next move.
“Hey Troy!” Mark called.
Troy froze.
“Cream and two sugars, bud!”
Troy gave a thumbs-up and kept walking.