Five minutes earlier…
Drew ran out of the room in a panic, slamming the door behind him.
Everyone went silent, staring at the door, then resumed talking. That guy must have made some serious social missteps, Troy realized. No one appeared to even give a shit about his panic attack. In fact, he heard Dustin mutter that he wished didn’t come back.
Lancer watched him go in confusion, then looked at Troy with a brow raised.
“Don’t look at me like that. He was always a bit..ott.” Troy grinned.
Lancer gave an exasperated sigh. “Truly?”
A text appeared on Troy’s phone.
NO SPELL CASTING AT THE TABLE!
Troy shrugged apologetically and texted back.
HE HAS A BOOK, THAT’S WHY HE NOTICED THE CHANGES
Mark stared at his phone, then tapped a response.
WHICH BOOK?
Troy replied.
NO IDEA
Mark got his response and texted back.
DON’T FUCK UP MY GAME WITH A BOOK FIGHT. I FORBID IT.
Troy sighed.
FINE.
They finished eating and began readying their characters. Lancer helped Troy with understanding the rules, as apparently he’d read enough in the last half hour to become a subject matter expert. Troy was glad for it, because he’d been having trouble understanding some of the math.
And strangely, he felt tired. Like he’d really done a full day’s work with the road crew. A full belly and a warm room weren’t exactly helping him stay awake.
There was a timid knock at the door.
“Come in.” Mark called.
It opened.
Troy held his breath, wondering how the new otter man would turn out. He’d made sure to pick a very cute animal and then intentionally exaggerated some features in his mind. Couldn't do anything about the fat without the Book of Body, but he should turn out even cuter if he were pudgy.
But instead of Drew, the person who stepped inside was a complete stranger.
A portly young man walked in and looked around at the people at the table awkwardly, adjusting his glasses. He was wearing a business casual outfit, short sleeve button-up and slacks. On his wrist was a bracelet that looked rather expensive. He had a backpack hanging off one arm.
“Can I help you?” Mark asked politely, elven ears twitching in annoyance.
“Yeah, hi, uh, my name is Drake.” Drake twiddled with his bracelet nervously. “You guys are starting a DnD game, right?”
“We might have a spot open.” Mark said, shooting a glare at Troy. “Do you know how to play?”
“Boy do I!” Drake snorted. “I also make figurines for it. It’s just that I’ve never been able to find people to play it where I used to live.”
“Pull up a chair.” Mark smiled and pointed at an unused chair that sat against the wall beside him. “We have a couple minutes before we start.”
“Want some pizza?” Dustin asked, holding out a box. “Troy ordered some.”
“Troy?” Drake raised a brow.
They all quickly introduced themselves. Drake sat down next to Mark and started rolling up his stats. Mark worked very quickly to fill out his sheet for him.
“Race?” Mark asked.
“Kobold or Dragonborn Artificer.”
“Scaly.” Mark snorted.
“What?”
“I said there’s tons of races you can choose.” Mark covered his faux pas quickly.
“Sure.”
“Let’s see…we’ll go with Kobold. You can use Pack Tactics with your Steel Defender.” Mark said, filling out the sheet.
“Cool!” Drake smiled happily. “What’s everyone playing? I’ve got some sweet pre-made figures on hand.”
“Oh, do you have a 3D Printer?” Mark asked with some interest. “I mean, I have my own minis for the game, but go ahead and bring them out. Oh, and your character is done.”
Mark handed Drake the sheet. Drake looked it over, a strange smile playing on his lips. He held out a hand for the other sheets and inspected them as well.
“What’s the setting?” Drake murmured.
“Desert city. Sort of a mix of Arabian and Egyptian style.” Mark replied. “Got anything for that?”
“You know, I actually do have something.” Drake grinned, digging into his backpack.
While the newest player rummaged, Troy couldn’t help but wonder where Drew had gone. Not that he was all that interested in the inevitable confrontation that would happen. He was just worried the guy would have a mental breakdown.
“Here we go!” Drake announced, holding up some figurines.
Troy’s jaw dropped.
Each and every one of their characters had been painstakingly recreated in miniature form. The details were, in a word, perfect. The paintjobs both splendid and immaculate. They even wore proper desert garb. Their faces even looked a bit like the players themselves.
“Will this do?” Drake asked coyly. “They’re voice activated and will act according to the wishes of the person registered to them?”
Mark blinked. “Yes. Mother of Gods, yes. How the hell did you make them?”
“You could say I’m a bit of an artificer myself in real life.” Drake chuckled.
Mark shot a look at Troy.
Troy groaned and nodded. Drake had to be a Book owner.
“You know, they are great, but we aren’t really set up for seven players, not enough room at the table…” Mark trailed off, seeing the pained expression on Drake’s face.
“Don’t worry, I can make it work.” Drake swallowed and turned away, facing the corner of the cramped room. Troy thought he heard him muttering something.
The space of the room suddenly grew. It was the strangest thing Troy had ever experienced. One moment the room was cramped, the next it was more than roomy.
Drake turned and pointed at the table, muttering again.
The table warped and altered. It grew and become thicker. Little hidden compartments appeared, drink holders and book stands. Troy quickly realized Drake was transforming it into a high-end gaming table.
There was another shift, and the middle of the table sunk, a miniature landscape rising up inside it. Knobs and buttons appeared on the end of the table where Mark sat. He fiddled with it, clearly not noticing the change, and the landscape zoomed in and shifted to the inside of a walled caravanserai.
Reality began to shift on its own. The chair beneath Troy’s massive rump suddenly grew softer and more cushioned, fitting his humongous frame perfectly. Everyone else’s seats adjusted. The room stopped looking makeshift and became clearly high-tech.
Troy felt a sudden pain in his temple.
He reached up and his fingers found a cold metal plug sitting neatly on his temple. His vision shifted and he saw number’s and letters overlaying his usual sight. Troy realized in growing horror that he now had a HUD.
“Data-jack, for a more immersive experience.” Drake explained, noting Troy’s horror. “You’ll get used to it in a couple seconds. Anyways, I’m gonna go get some snacks. BRB.”
It was all too much. If Drew walked in now, there was definitely going to be a fight. No one else seemed to notice. They were busy staring off in space, likely at some kind of news feed only they could see.
Drake began to walk away from the table.
“Wait!” Troy reached out and grabbed Drake’s arm. “Listen to me, whatever you did, you have to undo right now before Drew gets back or else-”
“What the hell?!” A soft, high voice exclaimed from the doorway.