#loc-tls_firstversion

What I did not know would happen last month was that I would be both in front of the Bookkeeper and, later on, the panel of the Office of University Affairs.

First with the latter: Heather and I decided to join a coalition led collectively by a group of scholars in filing a complaint against Stamp over "Stamp Out Corruption." Gregory Noser was in the Affairs Chamber against us, of course, saying that I was acting in my own self-interest on this. The debates began February 18 and ended March 19.

The debates began February 18 and ended March 19. In the end, the University Affairs sided with Stamp, saying that the policy was in place to pay off debt owed for decades by the University to the Linbraean Royal Trust.

The outcome of Monika's complaint against me in the Society was different, however. The Bookkeeper ultimately decided that Monika's meetings were drawing unwanted attention, even from library staff, who supposedly confronted her at one point.

In response, Monika, Sara, and Layda left the Society. Karyanna decided to stay, however. According to some sources, she is intending to get more involved with the Society in hopes of beefing up opposition toward me.

***

Five days ago, I went to a piano recital held in the music building, where I saw Meghan perform. She did wonderfully, and she was happy to see me again. We've been seeing each other on and off. Occasionally I would reach out to her like this, while she would return the favor by making a surprise appearance in my Dungeonmaster Office wing every once in a while.

I still love her; we're just busy. I hope she feels the same way.

On January 19, Stamp signed a budget reconciliation measure entitled "Stamp Out Corruption." The University Council passed this measure, and it is disastrous.

First, it terminates the Honors Student Scholarship Program, with such termination to take place on June 2. Next, it terminates the Waltmann School Program in phases.

A silver lining here is that the provision against the Third Level Society was scrubbed owing to its recognized insanity; Stamp was hoping to follow through on his promise to kick us off the campus.

That provision, however, was replaced, at the last minute, with an equally insane provision calling for the University Airfield (not Gentry County Airfield, thankfully) and the University Lake to be leased out to real estate developers. Both sites are anticipated to be replaced with office buildings by May 1359. This policy also authorizes the leasing of campus sidewalks to sales business booths.

Stamp appeared to make up for this by publishing, in the Flagstaff, communication he had with henshale industrial lobbyists who had been approaching the University for decades with proposals to drill on University grounds. Surprisingly, Stamp had been downright rejecting them. Other Headmasters in the past did this, but Stamp's responses were especially scathing, winning over a lot of voters that had been on the fence or opposed even earlier this month.

Stamp has also managed to convince enough of his voter base to ignore the consequences of this policy with another appealing provision: a mandate for the University Council to begin debating the elimination of per-semester tuition. That had been a deal-maker for voters. However, those will not begin until 1361; so I wonder if this is going to turn out to be a promise made to be broken.

Learning of Stamp's past, I feel like I know the answer.

Regardless, Gregory Noser's appeal, which is all emotion and no logic, is keeping too many people mindlessly loyal.

As a Dungeonmaster, my role has been quite heavy. Along with the regular tasks, I also have to contend with the fact that a growing number of Society Members have been letting their guard down regarding the threat of Stamp. The striking of that anti-Society provision from the policy, along with no other mentions from Stamp against the Society, have led these people to believe that the worst of it was over. Meanwhile, some people here have been hooked by the tuition elimination promise, and have even begun supporting him.

Earlier this week, I put forward a flyer on Ticketer informing Society Caucus on Stamp's appeal agenda. Monika, as expected, decried my move as a "paranoia scheme," while alluding to the notion that I like to spy on people.

That, by the way, is still a pending case against me. The Bookkeeper will, ultimately, decide the fate of my Dungeonmaster role in about two weeks. In the meantime, I have been meeting with Heather Walker to try and make a good argument against Monika.

***

Completely unrelated: My search for other keepers of Chemkan Bees has turned up empty these past days and weeks. Last night, I made a video post on my OCEA profile asking for people to contact me with answers.

Two nights ago, after a great deal of internal conflict, I caved to my gut instinct, put aside my homework and Dungeonmaster papers, and set out toward the University Library. It was a crisp and cold winter evening, around 6:30 PM, and was therefore well after dark. Regardless, I slipped on my talisman band over my wrist and cast a concealment spell upon myself. After only a few minutes, I was on the second floor of the University Library, and at a table in an alcove where sat Monika, Layda, Karyanna, and Sara. Invisible under my concealment, I crept up behind the nearest bookshelf and listened in on their conversation.

"...I just don't see how the local Admins will buy that, though," said Layda to Monika, whispering in the dry library environment. "And even if they do, they'll speculate, or even straight up ask, why you were here previously."

"As I said," Monika replied at the same level of whisper. "Dr. Macey assured me that she would write a glowing letter of recommendation. That should at least prevent speculation from being brought up."

"I mean we all have your back," said Karyanna. "Layda is always thorough in seeing both sides of the issue here. I just think that it might make you look better, in your portfolio at least, if you went with the North Kempton College option, switching University systems entirely, that is."

Still invisible, I froze. Of all the unpredictable things I saw Monika do or feared for her to do, leaving the University was one I never even imagined. From what I heard so far, I wasn't sure whether it was Karyanna who recommended it or if she was providing helpful advice for a decision Monika made on her own. I began to lean toward the latter.

"My academic study options aren't nearly as deep there as here, though," Monika continued. "This place, at the end of the day, is the best."

"Why don't you just stay here, then?" said Layda. "I mean, either North Kempton College or the nearby Waltmann School, even the best Waltmann School, has fewer options than here. Either way, they'll get suspicious and ask you probing questions. I mean you said it yourself: the Main Campus here is the best place."

"And also the driest place for me, socially speaking," argued Monika. "I mean, look. Maxima won. She won the Dungeonmaster role. She won the Arturian Realm....Sorry, but there's just nothing left for me. The game's been played. It's over."

"You came here to study psychology though," said Sara. "Not Arturian Realm questing."

"Well, there's an important lesson I've learned here," said Monika, dejected. "Academic excellence, high grades. Even if you pass with flying colors... that's only fifty percent of the requirement. The other fifty percent is an unwritten, ungraded requirement: social networking. Maxima has that rigged against me. So even if I graduate at the top of my class...for me to try finding a job afterward..."

In that moment, I accidentally knocked a book off the shelf. When I tried to catch it with my left hand, my right being armed with the talisman, I accidentally hit it toward the other shelf, where it crashed with the noise of binding and pages bouncing off of it before landing with a crash on the floor. The noise, in the quiet, dry environment, was, quite honestly, the loudest noise I had ever heard. Quickly and nimbly, with my heart pounding, I snuck away from my spot as either Monika or Layda said, "What was that?" When I got to the furthest shelf, I crouched down and, out of intense fear and anxiety, grabbed hold of my talisman to make sure I had quick access to it. There, I stayed and waited.

Disappointingly, I was too far away to hear what they were saying now. All I heard were murmurs. But, feeling more relieved and resting my talisman against one of the shelves, I craned my neck to listen for voice tones. Monika's sounded resigned but hopeful; Layda's sounded reassuring; but Karyanna and Sara's were completely out of earshot. After a time, it sounded as if they made a decision or came to a consensus, as they all, with relieved and slightly louder voices, wished each other good night and made their way toward the stairs to the main floor. Seeing an opportunity, I got back up and snuck around the back of the bookshelves, hoping to creep up behind them and catch more conversation.

Halfway there, another student passing by, a young man with short, brown hair and glasses, stopped and stared...right at me. He gazed right at my face, then down to my talisman hand, then back up to me with a look of high suspicion, even fear.

"What?" I said instinctively. I looked down to my talisman where, to my horror, I saw that it had fallen out of its holder. I looked around quickly, glancing at shelves and the floor, but the talisman was nowhere to be seen. When I looked back up to where the student was, I saw that he had quickly walked away. "Shit!" I said to myself as I set out to retrace my steps.

My old talisman holder had been stolen in North Kempton during Winter Break, by the way. So I had hurried to a spellcrafter shop and bought one for a low price despite quality concerns voiced to me by Aledon.

I should have listened to him.

When I arrived back at the spot at the far end of the shelves I had been to previously, I remembered the books next to where I had rested my arm. With another pang of horror, I realized that my talisman was not there either. Panicking, I began combing through all the shelves to see if it had either slid elsewhere or had been picked up and put on another shelf. All the while, a very dreadful feeling in my stomach began to emerge that someone had stolen it.

Talismans are expensive, after all.

Cursing more under my breath, I checked the narrow floor space underneath the shelf to see if it had slipped under there - but there was no sign. So I combed all the shelves on this side again, all to no avail. I went around the corner and began combing the shelves on the other side, then the ones behind me, all the while dreading the task as well as the prospect that it was indeed stolen.

With my talisman still missing, I rounded a corner and started checking all shelves on both sides of the next aisle. I was halfway through the first side, stooping down to scan a bottom shelf, when I felt a tap on my right shoulder and a voice saying, "I gather that you're looking for this...?"

Standing up, I turned to look, where there stood Monika Rhodes with my talisman in hand. With a slight smirk and a raised eyebrow, she politely handed my talisman back to me, saying condescendingly, "Careful not to lose it next time."

***

There was no way out of it for me. I was eavesdropping on Monika and her friends, hoping to get away with it. Monika caught me. And now, over the past two days, she has been ranting about the incident on Ticketer. And it's been catching like wildfire. Furthermore, I received notification from the Bookkeeper that Monika had gotten together with her friends and filed a formal complaint against me.

I jogged my memory back to around fifth or sixth grade, when I had made a social mistake that even today I'm embarrassed to write about. My father told me then, "Better no publicity than bad publicity."

Obviously, I didn't learn my lesson. And now I've repeated the same mistake to my peril.

As for Monika: she was planning on leaving the Society and the University. Now she isn't. She has another chance to best me, courtesy of myself.

I don't know how this will turn out. Neither does Aledon, Heather, or the rest of my circle. I've been praying to my personal deity for the best possible outcome.

Meanwhile, over the past two days, we all learned that in University Council, a coalition formed between Cabotton Conservatives and "Team Stamp." Gregory Noser had been rallying groups of students around campus as well, particularly the freshmen. Madison and Elisabeth had recently agreed to conceal themselves and watch University Council sessions, reporting to me on whether anything threatening the Third Level Society came up. This, I had them do despite the reputation I now have with Monika - I had no other choice. So far, nothing particular against the Society has been discussed.

And this has been compounded by the trouble I've been having with my loving partner: Meghan. We still love each other very much, but Meghan has been extraordinarily busy. It's to a degree that we barely see each other anymore, which, admittedly, though I try to avoid being selfish, has led me to feeling quite lonely.

For the record, she finally replied last week but told me that she was nearly overcommitted for a while yet. She promised that she would make more time for me, but...I just have a pit of dread in my stomach over that.

Again, I've been praying to my personal deity.

Today was my first day as Dungeonmaster of the Third Level Society. After I completed all of the day's tasks - and there were a lot of them - I proceeded up the steps and into the University Library. At the first table on my right sat Otto, who had messaged me an apology yesterday and requested to meet today. Reluctantly, I had agreed.

I was still a little trembly on the inside when I took a seat next to him. I wasn't sure what his sentiment was toward me today. But as soon as I took a seat next to him, Otto gave me a warm, reassuring smile. "I hear that Maggie was fired from Flagstaff?" he asked.

I had almost forgotten. Earlier this afternoon, Maggie informed our living suite group chat that she had gotten sacked. And this had come mere hours after numerous OCEA posts about Greg Torus, a loyal follower of Arnold Stamp (now the Headmaster, unfortunately), being appointed as the new head of the Flagstaff. Immediately afterward, there emerged reports of him firing writers not loyal to Stamp and replacing them with loyal ones...regardless of writing capability, based on the absolutely terrible grammar in some of the articles posted on the Flagstaff OCEA platform today.

"And she decided to drop out for a semester," I said with a nod, remembering what she said in the chat.

"Right when we needed her most," replied Otto, looking down and shaking his head. "Stamp just withdrew the University from the Global Academy of Silba and terminated the Global Academy Agenda altogether, in fact. That's a big fucking deal, if you didn't realize."

"Greg Noser was bragging about it on OCEA."

"Wasn't that the same guy your friend, Heather, punched in the face last semester?"

"I know, right? And now he's apparently Stamp's closest unofficial advisor..." My thoughts then turned to another rival with whom I contended last year. "Any insight on Monika Rhodes? She's been awfully quiet."

"I can understand if you wanted to make amends," Otto said, stretching back in his chair and putting his hands behind his head. "The only thing I heard recently was that she, Layda, and Sara had been having so-called 'quiet teatime meetings' here in this Library - up on the second floor, in fact." He indicated his hand in that direction.

"Are they here now?" I asked, out of curiosity.

"I don't think so. I didn't see them when I was up there just now, though I would avoid spying or sending spies. Getting caught.... It could reflect badly on you right now."

"The thought never crossed my mind," I said with a slight chuckle. "I was thinking more along the lines of us not being caught within earshot at the moment."

Otto glanced up at the second level indoor balcony for a moment again. Turning to look back at me, he smirked a little. "I think we would've found out by now."

"So...why are we here, then? You asked me to come."

"For me to be selfish and pathetic with you, since you're the Dungeonmaster now."

"What do you mean?"

"Well.... Don't ask me how I know.... I'm aware that you've sent that feisty Heather Walker to spy on the Headmaster-"

"Careful now," I said, making a hushing gesture and continuing in a quieter voice. "Given his nature, I wouldn't put it past him to...shall we say...return the favor."

"A very good point indeed," said Otto respectably, in an equally quiet voice. "So you have Heather...at her post.... And you have Bernard looking for new housing for the Society in South Masonia... I'm willing to contribute, as I know venue space is limited."

"Are you saying that you have a place...?"

Otto sighed. "I wish that was the case.... For me, it's more like lending a helping hand."

"I appreciate you, Otto," I said. Then, in an even quieter voice, I admitted, "You know this is not a paid task, per se, right?"

"It's more of a debt I'm paying to you for...a mistake made in anger."

"Very well," I said, leaning back in my chair. "Let me think on it."

***

Later that night, I came across an article about how the North Kempton William Solomon Airfield had seen better days in business. It used to be a perfect hub for airship traffic, but that was decades ago. Since the 1310s, they had been passed over by gyroplanes, which traveled faster, thus eliminating the need for in-between hubs like North Kempton.

And from that time forward, traditional airship traffic consisted primarily of The Commencement, which served as the airship between North Kempton and Cabotton, solely to serve a tradition of heritage for the University. Meanwhile, although the North Kempton Airfield had since upgraded its facilities, it had nonetheless been struggling to attract gyroplane routes.

Thus, there have been many empty hangars standing in recent years - hangars that could serve other purposes. And venue space in South Masonia is limited. So are the spaces at the Airfield, but some form of combination would suffice temporarily, should the occasion arise.

Otto agreed to go to North Kempton. As a courtesy, I paid him a stipend.

My thoughts returned to when he speculated that I intended to spy on Monika. Indeed, I was honest with Otto when I said that the thought never crossed my mind. Ironically, though, even though he spoke against it, I've begun considering the idea. There is no way of knowing if she still thought to plot against me, behind my back.... Then again, Otto does make a good point about the potential damage to public relations should things go wrong.

It's something I'll have to think on; though I will not let it interfere with either the immediate tasks in front of me as Dungeonmaster or my schoolwork.

Meanwhile, as of this moment, Meghan has not yet replied to any of my messages. We had decided to spend Winter Break with our respective families; thus we have been sleeping separately since December. There was seemingly an unspoken mutual trust between us, or so I presumed, that we would get back together upon our return to the University....

Perhaps I'm too anxious. After all, school does not resume till next week.

Back at the Greenhouse this morning, Dr. Jaynes looked over my granular plane reports. For the first time, he looked up and said to me, "This place is ready for the Bees."

"Thank God," I said aloud before I could stop myself.

Dr. Jaynes chuckled at that. "I know the feeling, Maxima.... It's all a matter of finding the beekeepers, though. With OCEA being the open-source project that it is, you can't one hundred percent trust a claim to be legitimate. So make sure you're going to the University Library and reaching out to reliable contacts."

"Of course," I replied courteously. "And what about the Arnold Stamp thing?" OCEA was ablaze this week, with Headmaster-elect Stamp announcing that he would begin having businesses offer "private charter classes," which would supposedly be accepted as internal academic credit transfers. It had been giving everyone a foreboding sense of more things to come.

"Definitely not someone who should've won the vote for Headmaster, I will admit," said Jaynes sadly. "But right now, it doesn't look terribly likely that everything would be privatized. If it came to that, my advice for you would be to follow the syllabus as best you can and carry out your agenda independently.... In the meantime, let's stick to the usual class plan."

On my way back to my living suite, my thoughts turned to the Third Level Society. It had been a while since I went questing with my avatar, as my membership had been suspended until just a couple of weeks ago. And since I was reinstated, I quested only three times: once with Meghan and twice with my brother. Meghan had been much busier lately, practicing more often than questing. Of course, she was now in the upper division of her music studies, being assigned a more intense workload. So I pulled out my comm tab and texted them both.

Meghan did not reply at the moment, but Aledon did. "About that... I need to talk to you," his message read.

Aledon and I met in the Slack for lunch, during which he explained himself. "Basically...I need to step away and finish my studies. I am graduating in less than two months, and I need to get ready for my West Horizon job."

"Of course," I said, dejected. I knew that he would have no time to quest once he started his job next spring. Yet I was hoping he would set aside a little extra time to make up for what he would miss next year. What I had failed to consider, though, was that not only would he be burdened with exit exams and such; he was also feeling that he had outgrown the Society. He fulfilled the Dungeonmaster role already, and, possibly quite literally, everyone was younger than him. He mentioned that feeling a few times, and it reminded me of reading about the Society's history, where Ivella Ogden herself was described as experiencing the same feelings. In fact, I've been feeling that I would eventually experience the same thing when my time came.

I should have seen it coming.

"I know you're upset," said Aledon. "This doesn't mean I hate the Society, though. So keep me posted."

"It's just that...it's you, Meghan, Otto.... Has being a Dungeonmaster ever felt lonely to you?"

"If I said 'no,' I would be lying," Aledon answered honestly. "But you do have Admins working for you. And you will have Heather...if you can get her to join."

***

Heather, honestly, had been hesitating. She loves the political anti-Stamp leanings that everyone in the Third Level Society seems to convey. But, to my surprise, she seemed shy to join. She seemed fascinated by the whole concept of creating an avatar and questing across different worlds and time eras. But... I'm thinking she might be a little anxious about performance judgments, or even about overall social judgment. "I'll think about it," she keeps telling me.

She's very supportive, though. I almost bowed out of the Dungeonmaster race not long after my last entry. Monika was relentless in blaming me, Aledon, and our social circle for "sowing paranoia," thereby unknowingly contributing to Stamp's cause. Her logic on that is, admittedly, a little bit of a mystery to me. But it had its effect, particularly on me and Aledon, which I suspect was a major factor in Aledon's decision to effectively "retire" from the Society. Heather convinced me, though, through a passionate, maybe even slightly angry, pep-talk to stay in this race. And it did pay off.

Monika had a very reactionary agenda against mine, even though mine is rather basic. My agenda, by the way, has consisted of establishing an open platform to keep the Society informed in real time about Stamp's actions, as well as a financial plan to support the standalone blockworlds and another to prepare the Society for Stamp's onslaught next year.

Everyone around me has been saying that I won the Dungeonmaster vote "by a landslide" since just under two-thirds of Society Membership voted for me. While I acknowledged the win and am now preparing for my role starting next year, I am trying to be careful not to boast. The Society, especially in the face of Stamp, absolutely cannot afford to have a Dungeonmaster that is divisive like that.

Late on the night of September 16, I fell asleep in my bed, in my living suite, with Meghan cuddled in my arms. When I woke up on the morning of September 17, she was already up and in the kitchen. I realized that she couldn't sleep any better than me - not after what happened the night before.

Outside my bedroom, Meghan was in the living room sipping coffee while Aledon was in the kitchen making another coffee for himself. Both looked up at me for a moment, then both resumed staring, seemingly into the void.

No one said a word.

Aledon, last night, was not engaging in conversations. "No" was all he had said when I began bringing up House Elector votes. Either that or "water under the bridge" or "the election is over." He appeared to be in that mood still, albeit now with obvious circles under his eyes. And I was not going to engage in that talk.

It was at this point that I needed to spend time away from the University. "I'll be flying to North Kempton tonight to spend the night," I said. "And I'll be taking the day off tomorrow. Anyone care to join?"

"I just need to stay in my room," said Aledon, not looking up at me.

"I need to practice," said Meghan. "You enjoy."

So I packed an overnight bag and traveled to Gentry County Airfield, alone, the first time separate from Meghan in nearly a year now. I could tell by the looks on their faces that some of the passersby here were University students. Clearly stunned. Some, also Cabotton students, had smug grins. I took care to not engage with any of them. I needed to be in a social cone of silence at the moment.

Before long, I boarded a gyroplane. The flight went by quickly, owing to what my mind was on. When I landed, I took a tram to my parents' house. There in the living room sat my father in the rocking chair. He had the same hair color that I did, though beginning to grey and bald on top, and at the moment, he was dressed in a casual business shirt and jeans. "Taking a break from it all?" he said, rising from the chair and hugging me.

"For now," I said with a sigh.

I entered my old bedroom, furnished with a nice bed, walls lined with decorative wallpaper, and a vaulted ceiling from which hung a ceiling fan. It was late afternoon by the time I arrived here, and so shafts of light from the sun beginning to make its way toward the horizon poured in through both sets of windows to my right so as to give my room a dramatic appearance.

And everything was the way I left it.

Slowly, I sank into the downy mattress of my bed and pulled out my comm tab, dreading what I would see. Sure enough, Heather Walker was speaking the same thing on chat that I tried to say to Aledon last night when he silenced me. "One Elector made the difference," she messaged. "And the majority voted against him."

"Water under the bridge, Heather," I typed in reply. "The election is over. Stamp is Headmaster, starting January 2."

"I might drop out of the University, at this point. I haven't joined the Society, but I would love to do that at some point. I'll need time to help you guys relocate."

"Let's not make any rash decisions just yet." Although, inwardly, I began to agree with what Heather was typing.

Suddenly, a one-on-one chat window came up with a message from Aledon. For a moment, I dreaded that he was going to be complaining about Heather and suspect me of having enticed her, especially when his message read two words: "Call me."

"Hey," said Aledon with a soft, dejected tone of voice when he answered my call.

"I'm sorry about Heather just now..." I began.

"What? No, I'm not even looking at the chat right now. Don't worry," he replied with a slight chuckle. Switching to a more serious tone, he continued. "Are you at Mom and Dad's right now?"

"I am."

"Are you gonna come back tonight? Or are you...?"

"I'm taking the day off tomorrow. I'll catch up on my schoolwork."

"Understandable. Don't linger too long tomorrow, though. I don't know if you remember the Bookkeeper meeting-"

"Shit!" I exclaimed. I couldn't believe I forgot. Last week, we got a group message from Bookkeeper Swann stating that there would be a hearing on our membership suspension thing, to take place in the Caucus Chamber on Monday, September 18. We had a good argument backed by our team of Advocates. Monika's case had been frivolous; even though we had meetings against her, our plans consisted solely of informing other Members of the dangers of being silent on Stamp, and nothing that would violate Society policies.

"And now that Stamp has won," continued Aledon, "people are really starting to round on Monika. I don't have access to the Ticketer either, Maxima. But some Member-friends have been making me aware...now's our chance to vote her out..."

"Are you sure that you can handle another year as Dungeonmaster, especially if you're starting a job at West Horizon next year?"

"I wasn't talking about me..."

"Wait..." I began, stammering. "I'm only a sophomore...and we're already in mid-September. Isn't the Dungeonmaster election this November? There wouldn't be time."

"I think you're mistaken. It's actually next week," said Aledon. "I know we talked about how they used to pick their Dungeonmasters every November during the early years, but I think I misspoke. That was 100 years ago. They've done them every 22nd week since that time. This year, that means September 24."

"So less than a week. How do you expect me to campaign in less than a week?"

"Normally, I would say that was impossible. But no one has been running against Monika; everyone is absolutely livid about her. Anyone but her would make a decent Dungeonmaster as far as most Members are concerned; and...promise not to be nervous...there apparently were even calls for you to run, Maxima. You are my sister, after all."

***

Those words of advice from my brother I had to think on for a bit. Meanwhile, I left home early today and returned to the University in time to attend the Caucus Chamber hearing before Vera Swann, a lady fair in both appearance and personality. Within the hour, she ruled against Monika's claims against me, Aledon, and everyone else involved and turned the case over to the Caucus for a vote.

Two-thirds of them voted to reinstate us.

Seeing that, Monika and Sara tried to hold a pep-talk on the side to rally support for themselves. A couple dozen people flocked to her, but aside from that, popularity seemed to be a struggle for her.

I did not go to class today, but I did set to work typing up an OCEA post featuring my agendas as a Dungeonmaster. After a couple proofreads from Meghan and myself, I published this post on the Ticketer, which received over 100 reactions within a few minutes.

So Aledon may have been right. Though the prospect of being a Dungeonmaster, with its monumental duties, did admittedly leave a pit in my stomach.

"I feel like it won't be so bad for someone like you," assured Meghan, who put a hand on my shoulder.

"I will certainly have a lot to learn, though," I said.

"I know you're capable. You have a bright path ahead of you.... It's the University, as a whole, that I'm worried about. I know that you have it in you, though, to help us all face this together."

Carrying my overnight bag, I proceeded up the ramps to Meghan's living suite, mentally channeling out the Stamp propaganda plastered along the walls and overflowing the bulletin boards. It was just after 10:30 when I knocked on her door. Meghan answered it and gave me a kiss. "Any trouble along the way?" she asked.

"Surprisingly not," I replied. "Just Stamp junk all over the walls, but the Stampers are unusually quiet."

"Consider us both lucky then. They are on the prowl. And with 'Agenda III,' they're getting quite aggressive."

"Agenda III? I'm familiar with Agenda II. Must've been an update on my way over."

"It started today, I think. They're invading dorm corridors and wings now, even barging into personal quarters, if the rumors are true. They're also very intimidating, threatening consequences to anyone refusing to support him."

That sent a chill down my spine. "Like what kinds of consequences?"

"Expulsion. Campus trespassing. Something of the like. They claim that Stamp will protect students by not enacting 'unreasonable rules' that Kotimer is apparently attempting to implement.... That's false information, by the way."

"Well..." I set down my stuff next to my side of the bed - Meghan planned to share her bed with me. "What matters is that I am here, safe with you, behind a locked door. And you have it auto-locked, right?"

"I do, but I just realized that I need to go to the Slack to get some more snacks for the cupboards. Also, I'm in the mood for a bedtime snack altogether. Would you like to come with?"

Seeing no other choice, I agreed to go with Meghan. We made our way across campus with no incident until we were a few hundred feet from the Slack, where there suddenly emerged Gregory Noser and a few...what I call...henchmen.

"Ladies. Did you get your early ballots in yet?" he asked, arms folded.

Meghan paused, silent. "Our voting plans are none of your business," I said honestly.

"Another way of saying you didn't," Gregory remarked. He reached into a bag he was carrying and pulled out two early ballots along with two pens. "Let's get this over with."

"We're not supposed to vote out in the open," Meghan said. "Also, as she said, we have our own plans."

"And what would those plans be?" asked Gregory.

"We have a right not to answer that question," I said sternly. "And we have a right to not cooperate with you."

Still holding the ballots and pens, Gregory folded his hands behind his back and stood upright. "Indeed. And of course we will respect that right. However, I will caution you to be mindful right now in how you choose your words and responses. This is a very serious matter."

"Is that a threat?"

"No. Of course not. But when Stamp becomes Headmaster - and he will, one way or another - he means to investigate anyone working for the Grime Establishment, to undermine the University. And such investigations may be triggered by public conduct deemed unfavorable, such as...what you may be doing right now...lodging insults against the University."

"That makes absolutely no sense," I said. "First you refer to the current Administration as the 'Grime Establishment,' and then you blame me for being the one to hurl insults against the University?"

"Now you're being manipulative. And Stamp does not play well to that. He won't once he becomes Headmaster.... Here's the deal: We will let this fly under the radar; we will pretend that you said none of these things, or that perhaps you were just being emotional, per your natural tendency-"

"You will NOT go there," I interrupted, bristling, getting into his face. Upon seeing this, the henchmen began moving toward me.

"I would be careful," said Gregory, indicating these henchmen. "And I speak the truth when it comes to natural tendencies."

"Well, your natural tendency is that you're a bit of a crybaby, like you were when you got punched in the 'Noser.'"

"You're the one making the threat now," replied Gregory, who threw down the ballots and pens, and pulled out a talisman. He cast a Shield Spell around him. "Try me! Carry it out! I dare you!"

As I went to pull out my talisman, Meghan grabbed my wrist. "No!"

"SHE OBVIOUSLY MEANS TO FINISH ME OFF!" shouted Gregory. "Let her try me, bitch!"

"You don't call my-" I began, but Meghan cut me off.

"STOP! BOTH OF YOU!" Meghan then turned to Gregory. "It's not worth risking expulsion. Put your talismans away. Let's just count our losses and carry on. It's not worth trying to settle scores at this point."

"We're in league with Heather Walker, by the way," I added.

"Look," said Meghan to Gregory. "We're not interested, and we will not change our minds over the next two days. From now on, whoever you approach, please let it not be us again."

"Whatever," said Gregory, throwing his hands up in the air and motioning for his henchmen to follow him.

***

I had learned of the Word-of-Mouth oathcrafting spell, used by a descendant of House Esary to end a civil war in Canticula about 150 years ago. And the name of that spell speaks for itself. Literally, someone saying certain words will invoke emotions in members of warring factions in a way to stop them from fighting. With Meghan...I don't know if it was her voice, which to me is sweet as honey, or if it was the emotional desperation in her voice. Some effect was had on me that compelled me to stand down, put away my talisman, and let Gregory walk off. And it appeared that a similar effect was had on Gregory himself.

Perhaps it's just a mere, false speculation that I have about Meghan. Nonetheless, she does give off a mysterious vibe...the very thing that made me start having a crush on her in the first place.

I messaged my living suite group chat just a while ago, telling them what happened. "I'll go show him" was Heather Walker's reply, though I responded with a message advising her to be cautious. Meanwhile, Bernard replied, explaining how this all falls in line with "Project New Cabotton," and that this Project included agendas for during, and even after Stamp's supposed Headmaster tenure.

Meghan and I are about to go to sleep, so I will end my entry here.

The Headmaster election is in two days.