Tabaxi in Space
Jeff Grubb was hunched over his cluttered desk at the TSR offices in Burbank, California. As a game designer for TSR, Inc., a subsidiary of Lucasfilm, he was surrounded by drafts of campaigns and character sheets, all part of his job creating new adventures for Dungeons & Dragons. The partnership with Lucasfilm had been a dream come true for many at TSR, opening up new avenues for creativity and storytelling. But for Jeff, it wasn't enough. Not anymore.
He glanced at the drafts of his latest project—a series of new modules for the Forgotten Realms setting. They felt lifeless to him now, a mere recycling of ideas he'd played with for years. Once, he had poured his heart into creating the realms of Faerûn, each character and location a piece of his soul. But after so many years, his passion had begun to wane. The thrill of discovery was gone, replaced by the mechanical process of churning out content. He knew the world so well that nothing surprised him anymore, and it was becoming harder and harder to surprise himself.
Jeff leaned back in his chair, his gaze drifting over the chaos of his desk. To anyone else, it might have looked like the vibrant workshop of a creative mind, but to him, it felt more like a graveyard of half-buried dreams. He needed something new, something bold—a spark to reignite the fire that had dimmed inside him. But what? He'd already explored nearly every conceivable corner of fantasy; he needed a new world, a new frontier.
His fingers drummed restlessly on the desk as he mulled over his options. The office buzzed around him with excitement. Rumor had it that Lucasfilm's latest project, Treasure Planet, was premiering that evening—a groundbreaking film that combined the adventurous spirit of a classic treasure hunt with the grandeur of space exploration. The concept alone intrigued him, offering a tantalizing glimpse of something fresh and unexplored. Could this be the spark he needed?
He glanced at his watch; if he left now, he could just make the evening show. Maybe, just maybe, this film could show him the way out of the creative rut that had been suffocating him for months. With a sense of tentative hope, he grabbed his coat and headed for the door.
The theater was alive with energy as Jeff arrived, though he barely noticed. His mind was still tangled in the same web of thoughts that had plagued him for months. The Forgotten Realms, once a canvas for his wildest dreams, had become a gilded cage. Every new idea felt like a variation of something he'd already done, a shadow of past glories. As he took his seat, he couldn't shake the feeling that his best work was behind him.
The lights dimmed, and the Lucasfilm logo shimmered on the screen, but Jeff's heart wasn't in it yet. The film opened with a breathtaking view of the cosmos—an ocean of stars glimmering against the deep expanse of space. A majestic ship sailed across the screen, not through water, but through the very fabric of the galaxy—a vessel that combined the elegance of a seafaring galleon with the mechanics of steampunk. Brass gears turned, metal sails caught solar winds, and a brilliant aurora of colors trailed behind the ship, painting the sky in dazzling hues.
For the first time in what felt like ages, Jeff felt a flicker of something within him. His breath caught in his throat as he watched the ship glide effortlessly through the stars. There was something there—something he hadn't felt in a long time. Awe. Wonder. The kind of excitement he used to feel when he first started working on the Forgotten Realms, when the world was still new to him.
As the film progressed, Jeff became increasingly enraptured by the world unfolding before him. The protagonist, a spirited young Jim Hawkins, soared across cosmic seas on a sleek solar-powered skiff, his eyes wide with wonder and ambition. Each scene was a visual masterpiece—nebulae swirled like vast clouds of colored smoke, distant planets hung like jewels against the dark, and the ship itself seemed to be a character, alive with the creaking of wood and metal clinking.
But more than the visuals, the concept struck Jeff to his core. Here was a universe that blended the best of both worlds—high adventure and science fiction. Pirates and privateers sailed not on oceans but through the vastness of space, seeking treasures hidden on distant worlds. As he watched, he could feel something inside him begin to unravel. The suffocating weight of his creative block started to lift, replaced by the intoxicating rush of possibility.
The last remnants of his earlier despair began to melt away, replaced by a fervent excitement that he hadn't felt in years. What if he could bring this sense of adventure and wonder into the worlds of Dungeons & Dragons? What if he could escape the constraints of the Forgotten Realms and create something entirely new, something that merged the limitless potential of space with the boundless creativity of fantasy?
The idea hit him like a bolt of lightning, electrifying every nerve. Spelljammer. The word surfaced in his mind, unbidden but perfect. He could see it so clearly—a world where adventurers didn't just explore dungeons or forests, but entire galaxies. They wouldn't just battle dragons or trolls, but cosmic horrors that lurked in the astral sea. His heart pounded with excitement as he imagined ships like those in Treasure Planet, but powered by magic instead of steam—spelljammers that could travel between worlds, through realms of existence that no one had yet dared to explore.
By the time the credits rolled, Jeff was on the edge of his seat, his hands trembling with anticipation. He barely noticed the applause as the lights came up, lost in his own thoughts. He had come to the theater seeking escape, but he was leaving with something far more valuable—a renewed sense of purpose. The story he had been searching for had finally found him.
The day of the Spelljammer launch, the TSR offices buzzed with nervous energy. Jeff paced outside the conference room where the first copies of the new campaign setting had just arrived. Through the glass doors, he could see his colleagues—writers, designers, and a few Lucasfilm executives—gathered around a large table, poring over the glossy, newly printed box sets. He felt his stomach twist into knots. What if they didn't get it? What if this world he had dreamed up that had reignited his passion for storytelling fell flat?
He pushed the thoughts aside as he walked into the room, trying to project a confidence he didn't quite feel. The air was thick with anticipation. The silence broke as David "Zeb" Cook, a senior designer, lifted the lid off the first box set and pulled out the main rulebook. His eyes widened as he flipped through the pages, his fingers brushing over the illustrations of ships sailing through the stars, planets hanging like ornaments in the void, and adventurers battling cosmic horrors on distant moons.
"This…this is incredible," Zeb murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked up at Jeff, a smile slowly spreading across his face. "I've never seen anything like it"
Across the table, other designers were eagerly flipping through their copies, exchanging excited murmurs. One of the artists from Lucasfilm held up a map depicting the cosmic expanse of the Astral Sea, his eyes wide with wonder. "A sea of stars…where ships sail through magic? This is going to blow people's minds."
A ripple of excitement passed through the room. Jeff could feel the tension in his chest begin to loosen. As more people crowded around the table, their faces lit up with enthusiasm; he realized they did get it—they got it completely.
Jeff made his way to the window, looking out over the bustling city of Burbank. Below, life continued as usual—cars honking, people rushing by—but here, in this little corner of the world, something extraordinary had just happened. He could feel it in the air, in the way his colleagues buzzed with excitement, and in the way his own heart was pounding. For the first time in a long time, he felt alive.
He had finally done it. He had earned a chance he had always wanted. A chance to show the world that the realms of fantasy weren't confined to forests and castles. They could stretch to the very stars.
Jeff smiled, a deep, genuine smile that reached his eyes. "And this is just the beginning," he replied. "Just the beginning."
Spelljamer originally came out in 1989 for 2ED D&D, but its aesthetics are very similar to Treasure Planet's. Jeff Grubs, however, was a designer for The Forgotten Realms, so through its purchase, we may have him in our employ.
