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Inside of a quiet suburban neighborhood, nestled in between rows of almost identical upper middle class houses, an adult man giggled to himself with an unsettling sense of satisfaction. Around him an array of writing instruments, figurines, dice and various other eccentricities colored the chestnut table sporadically. Craig Braunswick was the sort of person to dump all the toys out of the box and make something out of the mess. He didn´t just live in disorder, he thrived in it, and everyone on that table more or less figured that out by now. 

An imposing rectangular shape stood out from the littered plastic. Any experienced tabletop player would have recognized the tome as Lord Omsagro´s Adventure Index, the newest and most comprehensive roleplaying system. Craig hadn´t wasted any time in flipping through the pages in front of everyone with his junk food stained hands.

He was the sort of person who the community would label a “powergamer” or a “rules lawyer”, maybe even the occasional “asshole turdburglar”. Naturally, most people wondered as to how someone like him could draw such a large crowd, and most people stopped as soon as they set foot in his dining room. No, calling it a dining room would feel inappropriate for something so grand. 

It was like a conference room, one for only the very wealthy of another era. Polished end tables and towering windows and display cases with fine china all competed for visual attention. From the ceiling hung an elegant and great chandelier, and while in any other room it would have been a centerpiece, in this one it was only a footnote among the dozens of other decorations. It was the sort of room that made you move carefully out of fear of breaking anything. However, it became apparent that Craig didn´t care for any of it, or at least see it as anything out of the ordinary. Intricate and unlit candelabras that once occupied the table were poorly shoved into a corner of the room. Ceramic bowls of priceless value were now topped with doritos and other equally unhealthy snacks. The sight of such ornamental and luxurious furniture carrying out its intended purpose felt wrong somehow. 

As for the players, they had all been instructed to pitch in their roleplaying ideas which he hastily scribbled onto a journal. Most of them came to the conclusion that Craig had no idea what he actually wanted roleplay, seeing as he accepted anything and everything as part of his world´s official lore. They were currently in the character creation stage of preparations. Nobody was really sure what kind of frankenworld the idiot was patching together out of so many conflicting contributions, and neither were they instructed as to the sort of characters that the roleplay would require. A “Sure, sure, whatever.” paired with a waving of the hand was given in response to all of their concerns. Craig´s leg bounced wildly. He was excitedly waiting to accept their characters, binge eating to pass the time.