....Whut? [OPEN]
Who: Gob and anyone
What: Gob is starting to suspect he's not in Kansas California Washington anymore. Hopefully will also include some wizardy hijinks.
When: Monday afternoon
Where On the streets of Jhelbor
For the past week, Gob had felt as though he were living some sort of extended acid flashback. He'd started noticing things. The tiny flying women at the bar had only been the start of it. There was also the fact that a ton of people here seemed to have pointy ears. And there were all these weird symbols all over the buildings. And he kept thinking about the tree, which he'd first seen as a centerpiece on the Queen Mary, and anyway just how exactly had he gotten here?
It was enough to almost make a guy freak out. So he'd attempted to once again return to something familiar and comforting: his magic. Problem was that the deck of cards he'd just bought off a street vendor didn't look familiar at all.
For a while he just stood in the middle of the street, flipping through the deck one card at a time. As he did, his expression became more and more troubled. Then, finally, he looked up-
"I've gotta call Michael."
-and started moving. He had to find a phone- although (he didn't quite want to admit this to himself) he wasn't going to be terribly surprised if he couldn't.
What: Gob is starting to suspect he's not in Kansas California Washington anymore. Hopefully will also include some wizardy hijinks.
When: Monday afternoon
Where On the streets of Jhelbor
For the past week, Gob had felt as though he were living some sort of extended acid flashback. He'd started noticing things. The tiny flying women at the bar had only been the start of it. There was also the fact that a ton of people here seemed to have pointy ears. And there were all these weird symbols all over the buildings. And he kept thinking about the tree, which he'd first seen as a centerpiece on the Queen Mary, and anyway just how exactly had he gotten here?
It was enough to almost make a guy freak out. So he'd attempted to once again return to something familiar and comforting: his magic. Problem was that the deck of cards he'd just bought off a street vendor didn't look familiar at all.
For a while he just stood in the middle of the street, flipping through the deck one card at a time. As he did, his expression became more and more troubled. Then, finally, he looked up-
"I've gotta call Michael."
-and started moving. He had to find a phone- although (he didn't quite want to admit this to himself) he wasn't going to be terribly surprised if he couldn't.