Ok, here’s the setup…while relaxing at home one evening, you’re startled by the appearance of what appears to be a stereotypical wizard, pointy hat with stars on it and all. As it turns out, he is a wizard, and manages to convince you of it (never mind how). If you call the police, he waves his wand and makes them go away. He’s come seeking your aid to try to save the world (his world, that is) from a Great Evil because you are the Chosen One.
What…you don’t want to go? Too bad, you don’t have a choice. If you point out that you’re not Conan, he says that you have “other qualities” that will serve you in your quest; he won’t get any more specific.
Family obligations? He says he can return you to the same time and place when his world is saved. If you say that you won’t help him once you get there, he says that he’ll be disapointed but that you’re going in any case. Note: there’s no doubt in your mind that he can, in fact, send you there.
Once you’re resigned to the situation, he says that you need to gather up any equipment you wish to take with you. This equipment has a maximum weight of 50 pounds. Everything on your person counts, including clothing. He says that you should be prepared for weather from a bit below freezing to somewhat hot. And by the way…you’ll be by yourself. He has other errands to attend to, but he’s sending friends to find you. It may take them a week or two, so plan accordingly. He says he can’t give you any more information other than to say that his world is, by the standards of your world’s literature, a somewhat stereotypical fantasy world.
One last thing…because of the current alignment of the stars, you only have 30 minutes to grab your stuff. The point of all this is: what do you take? If it matters, the time is 10:00 at night.
Knives: ransack the kitchen, grab the survival knives…
Winding Watch.
Canned Food & can openers.
Asprin.
Rope.
Cool Hat. Can’t forget this part.
That Should hold me. I would love to know if guns would work, though. If there are Faieries, they’ll be allergic to Steel/Iron. In which case I’m grabbing my 9mm and 12 gauge Remington.
Instead of SZ’s canned food, I’d take dried food like jerky and dried fruits and dehydrated veggies and a cooking pot(lightens the weight) and add a notepad and pencil and a couple of liter bottle of water.
Oh, and a bottle of Alleve. If I’m saving the world in some weird damned fantasy realm, I’m gonna get at least one headache. Damned elves.
1:.Mossberg 12-gauge shotgun and shells
2:.Ka-Bar (I LOVE that knife)
3:.Straight bladed katana sword that I can wear on my back (and weighs about 3 pounds)
4:.Field surgical kit (YES I do own one)
5:.Large canteen full of water
6:.Jerky, trail mix, various dehydrated fruits
7:.Lighter
8:.Matches
9:.Clothes including what I’m wearing-cargo pants (3), a-shirts (3), t-shirts (3), skivvies (4), socks (4), army-issue do-rags (7), overcoat
10:.Wool Blanket
11:.Backpack to carry all this stuff in
12:.Cool hat
13:.4 bottles of aspirin
14:.Bottle of Jack Daniel’s
15:.Condoms (hey, you never know)
Towel
Backpack (Swedish army issue, 1947)
Belt pouch (just ‘cause I won’t feel silly wearing it there)
Call Matt; have him bring over his compound hunting bow. And aluminum shaft, razor-tipped arrows.
Call Mom; bum her .22 automatic. (I’d rather have a lot of shots than a few with stopping power. Nothing distracts like a bullet wound…)
500 rounds .22 ammunition.
Blanket
Knife
Flashlight, extra batteries.
Matches, lighters
Small sturdy camera
50’ sturdy nylon rope. Yes, I do have some. Don’t ask.
Boy Scout Manual: best I can do.
Roman short sword. Sturdy, swift, deadly.
Blue jeans
2 t-shirts
Leather jacket (AC 9)
Hiking boots
Socks, 3 pairs
Underwear, 3 pairs
Isopropyl alcohol (Firestarter, disinfectant)
Roll of TP
Tylenol
2 quart bottles of gasoline, siphoned from my car.
Tube of 2-part, 1-minute epoxy
Small cooking pan
Ramen!
The steaks, corn and potatoes for tonight’s dinner, wrapped tight in the blanket with a couple of cold sodas. May as well live well…
Duct tape
Sling
Which is why I brought the bow, the sling, and the matches. The camera, guns and flashlights are a “just in case it does work, I’d be an idiot not to” provision.
In any case, I gotta disagree. The “It works here but it don’t work there” gimmick was (AFAIK) a fairly late invention for fantasy (DeCamp and Pratt’s “The Incomplete Enchanter” is the earliest source I can think of circa 1943).
Heck, in Oz, the Wizard regularly chatted with the outside world with a radios!
Fenris
(Besides, think of the fun if your goodies do work!: “Look Bwana! Much magic! I make Fire-from-box!”)
Uh-uh. See. If some dude in some pointy hat comes walkin’ up in my house trying to sell me some song and dance number about how I’m the Chosen One and I’ve got 30 minutes to pack up my shit and get, I’d just have to tell him a thing or two. First, if he’s such a powerful wizard who can send me hither and thither and control the time when I return to my world, then he sure as hell can set me up with all the equipment I need on his world and the means I need to carry it when I get there. If I’m the Chosen One and I’m going to stick my neck out to save his world, then that’s the least he can do. In addition to this, I also would request from him.
Transportation roomy enough to carry me and my equipment because I a’int walkin’ nowhere.
A map and a guide familiar with the route I must travel and patient enough to teach me how to survive on his world since I don’t know a thing about camping/survival.
If he doesn’t see fit to accommodate me, then too bad. I’m going to wait out the thirty minutes sipping Scotch and chillin’. If after 30 minutes I don’t get sent, then I guess I wasn’t the Chosen One after all, and I’d tell him to get out of my house. If after 30 minutes, I do get sent to his world unprepared and get killed and eaten by some monster a few minutes after I arrive, it’ll be all his fault, and his world’s going to be doomed anyway.
Weird Al covered it. As if you really need anything besides a towel.
Besides, if you’re a generic fantasy hero, chances are you’ll find a magical sword that lights on fire whenever something dramatic is happening and you’ll have some pretty studly sidekicks to help you out.
Unless your universe is being run by Robert Asprin or Terry Pratchett of course.
