Stephen exhausts his resources, his mind and his body traveling from Milwaukee, to Atlanta in less than 36 hours. The obstacles to his travel and sacrifices of comfort are meaningless to him. Nine years of B&B play, studying every rule book and source book as though they were sacred text have made Christopher Korbach a revered mentor in Stephen's mind. Korbach created the world, the world that mattered most to Stephen - Thrycion. Stephen read Korbach's story in RPG magazines. He cross-referenced what he learned there with interviews Korbach had given business magazines concerning his game company (Tactical Exchange Gaming). In 1969 Korbach dropped out of Yale to design a game. Korbach lived in an abandoned warehouse, eating primarily chicken noodle soup while he wrote five journals on the world of his creation, Thrycion. The first journal covered the lands and rulers of Korbach's world. The second and third journals covered creatures and weapons of Thrycion. The fourth journal covered the magic systems of the world. The fifth Journal was an exception. While the first four journals were hand written, the fifth journal was a meticulously typed - a rules system, completing the first roleplaying game ever created.
Stephen had read all of the Journals in their original form (having downloaded pirated scans from peer-to-peer file sharing networks). Stephen had not been born when Blade & Bolt was released in 1971 by Tactical Exchange Gaming. He was just entering his teen years in the mid nineties when Blade & Bolt was king of the quarter billion dollar roleplaying game industry that Korbach had fathered. In the early nineties dozens of RPGs were vying for market share. Stephen bought the core rule books for most released RPGs, just to see how the rules system varied from Korbach's initial B&B rules system. None of the released RPGs supplanted his passion for the original RPG, however. He studied Korbach's work the way a Rabbi studies the Torah.
The trip from Milwaukee to Atlanta does not go well for Stephen. He knows exactly how to travel across light forest without tiring a horse while making sure to watch for elf trail markings or orc hunting tracks. He has studied this. Spur of the moment purchases of electronic tickets for red eye flights and taxi trips with fast speaking Hindus are proving challenging. His stay at an Atlanta four-star hotel (that Stephen chose because of proximity to the mental institution) goes awry quickly. Stephen does not known that a skilled thief can cleanout two suitcases, a laptop, PDA, digital camera and a wallet in the time it take to get a bucket of ice from down the hall.
"I just need another couple of hours to reach my friends in Milwaukee and then they will wire me some money. Please, the clothes on my back are all I have," Stephen leans on the marble countertop.
The front desk clerk smiles crookedly. "Well, the credit card you reserved the room with is now stolen, correct?" Stephen runs his fingers through hair and groans.
"How much does he owe?" Stephen turns to see who has asked the question. Derek grins at his friend and reaches for his wallet.
The clerk looks down at the screen in front of him, "The room is $140 and $80 is our standard for incidentals." Stephen notices that the "sir" the clerk used with him when he booked the room is now gone from the clerk's carefully chosen words.
Derek places bills on the marble counter, "Here is $300 in cash. That should take care of the room and any porn flicks he orders tonight. All square?"
The clerk looks at Derek's long black hair and black leather jacket. He hesitates but then his relief to have the headache of the paper work of the stolen credit card and the evening room switch taken off his plate win him over.
"Very good. Let me cut you some new room keys."
Stephen takes the room keys and smiles back at Derek. "Thanks for coming. Obviously, I need your help."
Derek walks with Stephen back to the room and Stephen explains that they should wait until they are out of the halls before he tells him why he asked him to come 750 miles in a day.
The room is comfortable and clean and Stephen is able to recount Marcia's story of Korbach's being committed to a mental ward because of his statement that Thrycion was a real world that he visited and then wrote an encyclopedia and then disguised the encyclopedia as a roleplaying game.
"Derek, I think it's true. I think Thrycion is real and Christopher Korbach really went there. Now I want to go. I want to go to see Christopher Korbach tonight and ask him how he got to Thrycion and then I want to go to Thrycion myself."
Derek shifts in the deep, umber leather chair and pushes the ottoman away as he sits forward. "Stephen, if you actually go to Thrycion that world won't exist in the form of structured combat rounds where you lose hit points. You couldn't handle a plane trip and an overnight stay in Atlanta with losing everything you have. Everywhere you would go on Thrycion you will have to walk. You're a hundred pounds overweight, Stephen. Thrycion will eat you alive."
Stephen looks hurt for moment. The weight comment hits hard. "Maybe you're right. That's why I'm not planning on going alone."
Derek shakes his head vigorously. "Going? Stephen, come on. This is a wild goose chase. You're letting your imagination get away from you."
"We'll see Derek. Now obviously, I could you use your help getting all this done. I know you think this is all crazy and that is why I'm asking you as a friend to help me."
"You are my friend, Stephen. I guess if this were something sensible and easy you wouldn't have to ask as a favor. I'll give you three days. What is our next action?"
"Wait, wait, Derek. I have to be honest. I tapped out my bank account to get down here over night and I make jack from my Dorm Monitor job. It could take me a couple months to pay to you back for the room and -"
Derek shakes his head, "Now you should feel weird about asking me to help you get to another world. But don't feel weird about the money. That is the one thing that's not a concern to me in this whole picture. Wait a minute; are Cynthia and Max still at GameCon?"
Stephen breaths a sigh, "Yes, I didn't even tell them I was leaving. I was just so laser focused on getting down to Atlanta to see Korbach."
Derek walks to the other side of the room and snags a bottled water from the mini-fridge. "Give me their mobile numbers and I'll arrange travel for them to meet us here by tomorrow."
"Why would you do that, Derek?"
"Why wouldn't I? They're part of our gaming group and if what you're saying turns out to be true we are about to go to the world we've all been gaming in. I wouldn't want to be left behind."
Stephen pulls his foot up and places it on his knee and lean back into the soft leather of his chair, "What if you're right and it's a wild goose chase?"
"Then you'll have some explaining to do, won't you, Gamemaster. Stephen, Cynthia and Max are part of your crew and you don't leave your crew behind when you do something big. Now tell me how you plan to get Korbach to tell you about Thrycion."
Derek and Stephen talk through the potential problems for another hour before turning in. Both are able to sleep easily due to the layer of weary the day's travel has placed on them.
The next day begins with inspiring progress. Derek is true to his word. The money is not an issue. He drops a cool grand on the morning shift guard at the mental ward and their audience with Korbach is arranged without incident. Derek can tell Stephen is relieved that the mental ward Korbach has been sent to is clean at least, and the halls are trafficked by patients that seemed engaged and active. Stephen looks at Derek with a question on his face but Derek waves him off anxious not to alarm the guard with an unnecessary conversation. The guard leads the two into a small, windowless room with only two chairs and a bare table. Derek notices that all three pieces of furniture are bolted to the floor.
"You got 30 minutes, not a second longer." The guard closes the door as he exits.
Korbach is wearing an emerald green polar fleece. Salt and pepper lace through his beard and the ring of hair around his temple. The top of his head is bald. Korbach looks quizzically at Stephen and Derek as Stephen sits in the chair across from the game designer. "Did my daughter send you?"
"No, no Mr. Korbach, I, I -" Stephen g
ulps and then takes a deep breadth. "My name is Stephen Cairnhist and I am a Blade & Bolt Gamemaster. I was told about what you said in Milwaukee, that Thrycion is a real world and what happened to you because of that statement. I traveled immediately from Milwaukee to see you today. I believe what you said. I believe that Thrycion is real. I've studied the world you wrote about in AB&B for seven years. I know in my heart that everything you said is true."
"My daughter didn't send you." Korbach sits forward. "You're wrong. I've been under incredible stress this year. I created roleplaying games and built the roleplaying game industry around TEG. Now some collectible card game company is going to buy my company as a subsidiary. A subsidiary! My books don't sell because gamers are busy playing in card tournaments, not to mention on-line gaming. I cracked at that convention. I just said what I wished was true. I wish that Thrycion was real. I wish what's happening now wasn't real."
Stephen relaxes, "Mr. Korbach, I can recite sections from your Thrycion journals. When I read them for the first time I could see it all in my head. I know now why the World Journals were submitted in battered handwritten black books and the rule book was a typed manual. Those journals were written in Thrycion. I know it. I'm here to... Mr. Korbach -"
Korbach stands, "Your wrong. You are a poster boy for all those church groups who say table-top roleplayers can't tell the difference between fantasy and reality. This conversation is over."
Derek steps forward and shoves Korbach back into his seat, "Stephen, here is a dyed in the wool, spend every dime, got all your books on a shelf-shrine kinda fan, Christopher. I hear you pissin' and moanin' cause nobody's buying your game. Well, if I remember correctly, roleplaying games single handedly destroyed the war gaming industries back in the early seventies. What goes around comes around, old man. Now, I don't think it's too much to ask that you hear Stephen out unless it's ever so important that you get back to drinkin' Koolaid and playing ping-pong with the rest of the loonies.
Korbach is silent and sizes Derek up. Derek gets a wicked grin suspecting Korbach will try to leave despite the warning. Korbach turns reluctantly back to Stephen.
Korbach stares at Derek a moment, then drops his gaze. "What do you want, Stephen?"
Stephen looks back at Derek, "I'm sorry I didn't tell him to do-"
"What do you want?", Korbach repeats impatiently.
"Well, I - I mean - Can you - I want to know how it happened. How did you find Thrycion? It must have been incredible."
Korbach is contemplative for a moment. His body relaxes and he leans onto the table. "It was May, 1968. I look back now and that time is just... It's as though it evaporated. A big part of that is Alexa, my daughter. Watching a child grow has a way of compressing time. This was before she was born. Back then I was a sophomore at Harvard majoring in mathematics..."
Derek steps forward, "Skip the icing, Stephen here has your social security number memorized, I'm sure. Just get to the Thrycion part."
Chapter 07
Gamers Gate Page 11
