Mr. Rich Goes to Washington (State)

As one of the three finalists of the Wizards of the Coast Fantasy Setting Search, the fine folks at WOTC actually flew me from my quaint cozy home in New York City to that bustling city that never sleeps: Renton, Washington. Come with me now as I describe the sights and sounds of a visit to WOTC Headquarters, not including any sights, sounds, or other sensations that I am contractually obligated not to disclose.

I should begin by pointing out that I am not normally much of a traveller. I can count the number of people I have personally met who live outside of the NY-NJ-CT area on my thumbs, and still have two left unused. (And frankly, I don't know anyone in Connecticut, either.) I had been to Gen Con in Milwaukee a few times back in my college days, but mostly that had been by means of an unbearably long drive rather than the miracle of flight. So it was with a near-childlike glee that I anticipated my coming journey to the West Coast.

Naturally, I missed my flight.

See, I got an e-ticket from WOTC via the ever-helpful Christina Matthews, editorial assistant and all around pleasant human being (who is in no way responsible for the tragic screw-up I am about to relate). Now, I believe that the formatting of the ticket was deliberately misleading, perhaps as the result of an elaborate ploy by disgruntled airline workers, causing me to believe that I was flying out on Monday, when in fact my plane was actually scheduled for Sunday night. I discovered this fact on Monday, when I called Christina to inform her of my imminent departure only to hear: "Umm, your flight was last night." D'oh!

Well, there was a flurry of rescheduling and apologizing (the latter mostly by me), and I was set to fly later in the week. The flight was unremarkable except for the unusually attractive woman seated next to me, with whom I completely and utterly failed to start a meaningful conversation, despite several attempts. I arrived in Seattle 5 hours after I left NY, although really it only 2 hours later due to the time distortion effect of warp-speed travel. Or something like that.

So after a night in the most budgety of budget hotels, I arrived at WOTC headquarters. It looks like any of the corporate-park office buildings you can find in any suburb, except for the large "Wizards of the Coast" sign on the front. (A tiny Hasbro symbol hangs like an afterthought next to it.) The headquarters is actually really 4 buildings connected by skyways, though it was explained that one was no longer used since certain contractions were made. The reception lobby actually has a statue of Tim, the Prodigal Sorcerer, and let me assure you, it is one creepy fucking statue. I mean, his eyes just...follow you.

I then got the grand tour of WOTC headquarters, which is comprised mostly of blueish-grey cubicles and bookshelves, both of which are piled with game books. I mean, literally, there is an entire rainforest's worth of game books in that one building. And I'm not just talking about recent stuff. Ever had an inexplicable desire to see what German-language AD&D rulebooks from the late 80's look like? There's a 3-foot-tall stack of them on a table across from one editor's office. Dark Sun and Planescape may be dead, but their books can still be found in abundance on shelves around the building. There are also posters, everywhere. You know those little promo posters your game store gets? They're everywhere, heralding game products long vanished into the mists of the past, as well as those with release dates so far in the future that I heard about them for the first time during my trip. Hallway wipeboards hold lists of random ideas for upcoming products and directions, some serious, most not. ("Direction for 2003: More monkeys.")

I was brought around to a variety of cubicles and introduced to many, many people. I have no shame in admitting that I forgot the names of 90% of them 3 seconds later. Though I did manage to salvage a shred of recall by associating faces with rulebooks. ("Oh, you worked on Manual of the Planes? OK, now I can remember you.") This is as good a time as any to point out that I visited WOTC HQ on October 31st. A number of employees I met only in their Halloween costumes, which added an extra surreal quality to the whole experience. I never quite caught the name or job responsibility of the man dressed as the Alien-in space, no one can hear small talk.

I was then ushered out into the courtyard for photographs. The center of the WOTC compound is a big flat pond that they refer to as the Mana Pool. Of course, as it was late October and quite cold, the pool was a sickly green-brown color, making it (I suppose) the Green Mana Pool. There are a number of large boulders and such surrounding it, and I was told about how in the summer, the area would be filled by lunching employees. Here they gave me the giant foamboard novelty check, and snapped a few photos. It was suggested that if I wanted it, the fake check could be shipped to me back in NY. I strongly considered it; I had dreams of using it to shut difficult players up during our weekly game: "Yes, well, that is an interesting difference of opinion on that rule and-oh, look, it's the GIANT CHECK that I got from WIZARDS OF THE FRICKING COAST." *whack whack whack* In the end, however, I decided that might be a touch on the self-aggrandizing side, and declined the offer. (Oddly, they would end up mailing it to me anyway-it's sitting in my living room right now.)

I then attended a series of secret meetings in which we discussed the invasion of Bolivia using genetically-enhanced turnips. There was some dissension on whether or not we could trust Fudgie the Whale to keep up his end of our blood pact, and in the end it was decided to implant a microscopic tracking device in the jolly aquatic ice cream cake to track his every move. We spoke our dark pledges to the Elders in the inhuman Dark Speech, and then there were fruit punch and cookies for refreshments. (This is, in fact, not at all what happened next, but all of what did occur falls under my Non-Disclosure Agreement. I thought this would be a better read, though.)

One thing I can relate is that one of the meeting rooms in which I sat had a dry erase board which showed a drawing of a series of tunnels, including a tiny stick figure falling into a pit. I discovered that the room had been used for an ongoing d20 Modern campaign the night before; the drawing represented a sewer. So while the employees do not seem to play D&D during working hours, apparently they can use the conference rooms to run their games in!

After many hours of Secret Stuff, WOTC editor Peter Archer was kind enough to drive me around Seattle for a bit, showing me Mount Ranier, the bay, and a few other sites. As I was only there for the one day, at least I can say that I have some vague impression of what the Pacific Northwest is like. Mount Ranier, for example, looks like a matte painting. You know, those ones they once used to do movie special effects. I really expected the circle of stars to pop up overhead and the word "Paramount" to appear across it. We engaged in a fascinating discussion of the game industry and the future of D&D, not one word of which I can relate to you now. However, let me take this opportunity to thank Peter again for his hospitality and insight throughout the trip.

After a long day of meetings, I was brought back to the airport, where an even less eventful flight awaited me to return home. I returned to my faithful Mac ready to write, invigorated by the pilgrimage I had made to the birthplace of all the books sitting on my shelf. It was helpful to know that the people who work at WOTC are normal, everyday people with a job, albeit one more fun than yours.

--Rich Burlew

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