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.