A Storm of Ice - Chapter 1

This is the first session of the Pathfinder RPG game that I'm running. I'm going to post the storyline here so that my players can look back and follow along.

The wine is flowing, the food is decadent, and all around you are the prominent socialites of the Eastern Frostwaynes. This party is turning out to be one-of-a-kind, with hundreds of guests from all walks of life and social groups in the city of Magelake, all of whom were invited personally by the well-known and well-liked bard Hallistra Silvertongue. You’ve spotted Hallistra a few times this evening, dancing with any number of male suitors and looking resplendent in her cream-colored gown with pink and purple jewels sewn into the fabric at seemingly random intervals. As she dances, she sometimes sings, and the magic of her voice can be felt by everyone in the room.

The music fades as Hallistra takes the small stage, the band behind her being offered refreshments, resting as they await their patron’s speech. “Good sirs and ladies,” Hallistra begins, “I thank you all for joining me tonight to celebrate my paltry accomplisments in the world of theatre.” Hallistra had been honored the night before with the Performer of the Year award, presented by the local performer’s guild. “You are all welcome in my home at any time, and it is wonderful to see you all in such splendid attire, dancing and eating with me! If you will all indulge me for a moment, I would like to perform a song for you, to thank you for being my friends.”

The band begins to play a slow, sweet melody, and Hallistra starts singing, her voice sweet as the mulled icewine you’ve been enjoying all evening. You find yourself swaying to the music along with the entire crowd, lost in the depth of her song. The song is a sad one, telling the tale of a lonely soldier, the sole surviver of a huge battle, trying to find his way home. As the ballad ends, you feel such a profound sense of loss that you are brought to tears, and you can hear many a noble lady in the room weeping openly.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is no time for crying and wailing!” Hallistra says, a mischevious smile on her face. “This is a party! Wipe those tears away and join me in a dance!” A fast-paced song begins playing and Hallistra jumps down from the small stage, grabbing a strapping young lad who had been weeping moments ago, and pulling him into a quick-stepping dance. The sorrow of the song forgotten, the crowd begins dancing along.

Later, as the party is beginning to wind down (though Hallistra shows no signs of slowing), you are approached by a butler who tells you that Ms. Silvertongue has requested your presence in her solar. You see other butlers asking the same of several guests, none of which you know personally, though you think you might recognize one of them as another well-known performer in Hallistra’s troupe. You are led from the great hall where the party was taking place through several corridors to a smaller, but still grand room with a large rectangular table carved of cherry. You and the other guests are beckoned to sit, and are told by one of the butlers that Ms. Silvertongue will arrive momentarily.

Looking around the table, you see that there are six others who were summoned along with you.

At the far end of the table sits Fjorn Whitefeather, a human druid from the order of Clan Stormeagle. He looks dissheveled and wears mostly animal pelts, but under the pelts you can see a breastplate of darkwood, an ancient, extremely strong wood. He also carries a heavy wooden shield. Behind him stands a creature made of ice, with a head carved into the shape of an eagle. Cold emanates from its body, but it stands eerily still, awaiting its master's instructions.

To Fjorn's left sits a cloaked, shadowy figure. He does not provide a name, and in fact says nothing while others around the table are introducing themselves. At his sides hang dual kamas with intricate carvings on the handles, obviously well-made. Though his face is well-hidden, you can see that the flesh around his eyes has a reddish tint, and the eyes themselves are black as night.

Next to the cloaked man sits a surprisingly handsome, lean half-orc wearing chain under a flamboyantly-colored tunic and breeches. He introduces himself as Jorthan. At his side hangs a handcrafted whip. Though he currently looks jovial and curious, you can see that his bulk and visage could intimidate the best of his foes.

Across the table from Jorthan sits another half-orc, however his looks are almost the antithesis of the other. Introducing himself as Qua'mang, he is huge, hulking, and speaks little, though when he does, he expects those around him to listen. Strapped to his back is a large battleaxe with intimidating carvings in the haft and head. A breastplate and breeches are all the attire he requires. Standing behind him and kneading his shoulders absently is his companion Trinna, a willowy woman with stark white hair, entrancing blue eyes, and slightly blue-tinged skin. She wears simple and subtly revealing leather armor, and a dagger hangs at her side. Her distant look gives the feeling that while here in body, her spirit is roaming far from here.

To Qua'mang's left sits a middle-aged elven woman who introduces herself as Marileth. She wears only robes and jewelery, but has a few rods hanging from her belt. Her hair is black with many streaks of gray throughout, but her green eyes are those of a much younger woman. Perched on her shoulder is a tiny fey woman wearing a revealing leather outfit over her buxom frame. Her small wings resemble those of a butterfly, and she carries only a tiny lute and several small wands strapped to her belt.

Next to Marileth sits a stout dwarven man who introduces himself as McJuggerson the Unsmackable. Though his haughty nature makes him seem brash, he can obviously back up his title of Unsmackable given the heavy full plate and shield that he carries. Across the left side of his face is a birthmark in the vague shape of a broken chain. The heavy morningstar strapped to his back suggests that he is quite capable of defending himself and others.

The final guest is the young man that you recognized as a bard in Hallistra’s troupe. He strikes up a conversation immediately with the rest of the group, introducing himself as Symon Xarn. “Do any of you know what this is pertaining to? I wonder if my sweet Hallistra requires something of us? I would suggest that we were all simply dashing enough to have... how shall I put this... a PRIVATE party with the beautiful Ms. Silvertongue, but looking around the room I... seriously doubt that now.” It is clear that Symon is as full of himself as he is handsome. Just then, the door at the far end of the room opens and Hallistra sweeps in. Her face, so bright and welcoming during the main party, now only shows fear and apprehension.

“My friends. I do not wish to spoil your night of revelry, but I had an ulterior motive for inviting you all here tonight.” She sits down at the head of the table. “Some of you I know very well, and others I’ve only met recently. Each one of you is a hero of unimaginable ability and incredible skills. I have need of each of your particular talents. My young sister, Faith, has been kidnapped. A heinous white dragon who lives in the nearby hills has stolen her.”

“Lovely Hallistra, what could a white dragon want of a young girl?” asks Symon. “Whites, from what I know of them, are solitary and stupid, caring only for food and solitude.”

“Quite right, Symon,” Hallistra begins, “but this particular white is more cunning that most, and he has good reson to want my sister, or me for that matter.” Hallistra’s expression changes, showing that mischevious grin you saw earlier after her song. “Would all of you like to know a secret about me?”

Without pausing to hear answers to her rhetorical question, Hallistra stands up, takes a few steps back from her chair, and promptly transforms into a dragon! Bronze-colored scales cover the lean body of a Large dragon, and Hallistra’s sweet voice issues from the dragon’s mouth as she continues. “You see, my friends, I am not of the human species. My sister and I are of the few bronze dragons left in this part of the world.” Hallistra reappears as her former self.

“Now, back to the task at hand. This white is young, conniving, and manipulative. He has stolen my sister for two reasons, lust and greed. He finds her beautiful, all the more so because she is vulnerable. She is very young for one of our kind, and the cold of his lair will weaken her. I cannot hope to fight the bastard in his lair because the cold will weaken me also. I am asking you to rescue her, and if you slay the beast, all the better. I can offer you gold and jewels if you wish, or any other boon that I can give. Please, help me.”

You glance at the other guests, most of whom look as stunned as you are, but one or two who are just looking greedy.

Symon looks at Hallistra with fear and loathing in his eyes and says “I’m sorry, but I can’t be a part of this. You... you’re not even human. I’m leaving now!” He gets up to walk out, but Hallistra sings a quick riff and he becomes mesmerized, sitting back down. After a minute or two, he gets up and walks out.

“I apologize to the rest of you for having to see that, but I’d rather my secret stayed hidden for the time being, and that loudmouth would have told the whole party. He won’t remember any of this discussion now. So, will you all help me?”

Each remaining member of the group consents, naming their price as they go. Marileth humbly requests only a wand of Hallistra's favorite spell. The hooded man with no name simply states "You know my price."

Fjorn asks Hallistra only to donate to his druidic order, and McJuggerson and Qua'mang similarly state that monetary compensation will be sufficient.

When Hallistra turns to Jorthan, he says "My beautiful Hallistra, I only wish to become as famous and well-loved as yourself. Would you consent to composing a duet with me, and perform it at the theatre?" "Of course," Hallistra exclaims, beaming at Jorthan. "Nothing would make me happier than to further your career by singing with you, good sir."

Hallistra gives them a map with the approximate location of the white dragon’s lair on it. He lives high on a snowy mountain peak, about four days’ ride from the city.

She pulls aside Marileth. “The white will be vulnerable to fire. If you find yourselves in mortal danger, use this. It has only a single charge left in it, but still could be a powerful tool for you. Please return it to me after you’ve saved my sister.” She hands Marileth a staff with the head of a dragon on top of it.

“Please hurry, my friends. I fear that the white will tire of my sister quickly, and if he has no use for her he may kill her just for the thrill of it.”

The group departs on their quest, borrowing horses from Hallistra's stables for the trip. A few scuffles along the way occur, including a fight with a territorial Rune Giant, but after a few days travel they round a craggy corner, and a large opening in the rock comes into view a few hundred yards away. At the top of the cave’s opening hang hundreds of icicles, some much larger than others. The snow in front of the cave has been recently disturbed, though any prints have been covered in a fresh white blanket. As the party approaches the cave, they hear distant growls from within.

The ninja sneaks forward and notices a mechanical trap set behind the icicles, rigged to crush any intruders with sharp icy spikes. He then notices a switch mostly hidden under a snowdrift that he can tell will deactivate the trap. He flips the switch and the party continues unmolested.

Passing under the mouth of the cave, you see a weak blue light being reflected off of the ice-covered walls. The temperature dips and chills you to the bone.

The witch casts an Arcane Eye spell, allowing her to send an invisible scout into the cavern and determine the dangers within. About forty feet into the tunnel, another, smaller tunnel diverges to the left, but this leads only to a second exit from the cavern. The witch sends the spell deeper into the main tunnel, and comes upon a disturbing scene.

A large cavern comes into view, and toward the center of the cavern, you see a young brass dragon, shackled with hand and foot fetters made completely of ice, those chained to a huge piton in the floor. She looks defeated and in pain. The white dragon is mounting the poor bronze, breathing icy mist onto the back of her neck, growling in anger and digging his claws into her sides.

The ninja uses his ki to turn invisible and silently sneaks into the cavern, taking up a position to the right of the tunnel entrance. The bard envelops himself and the barbarian in a sphere of invisibility and they sneak in to take flanking positions on the other side of the tunnel. Finally, the dwarven cleric, who has been enlarged by the witch, lumbers to the tunnel entrance and yells at the dragon “The rape-party is cancelled!”

The barbarian rages and in his excitement completely forgets the tactics which had been discussed by the party before engaging the dragon. He charges in and buries his axe in the dragon’s flank. The dragon howls in rage and is about to launch into the sky, when the ceiling of the cavern suddenly begins to cave in on top of him! The druid’s spell has turned most of the roof into mud, causing a cave-in directly above the white dragon and his helpless captive. The white dodges to the side, only getting half-buried by the mud and rocks falling from above, but his poor captive takes the brunt of the force from the cave-in, and is knocked unconscious.

The black dragon shakes the mud off of himself and launches into the air, hissing angrily as he flies to the top of the cavern and circles.
Seeing the state of the poor brass dragon, the cleric charges forward and prays to his deity to heal those around him, channeling positive energy and healing the dying creature.

The bard uses a short-range teleportation spell to appear next to the captive dragon, while the barbarian breaks piton holding her chains into the ground using his axe. Seeing that the dragon was free of her shackles, Marileth swooped in and teleported herself, her companion and Faith away to safety.

The white dragon, enraged at the loss of his captive, begins swooping down and attacking mid-flight, dealing heavy damage to the barbarian and cleric. The cleric fires several beams of force energy at the dragon, weakening him. The bard casts an air walk spell on the barbarian, allowing him to fly up and attack the dragon in the air. Sensing that he is fighting a losing battle, the dragon starts to flee, but one more force blast from the cleric knocks him out of tha air. The party kills the white dragon and McJuggerson makes a show of removing his male parts in punishment for his crimes.

Just the book jacket insert for "Undergrad Elementalist"

Book Jacket Insert
Do all freshmen have to deal with this shit? I mean, classes, dating, ramen noodle dinners, those I was expecting. But magic?
I never planned to be a witch, that's for sure. I'm not one of those wiccan kids, chanting and waving her hands over a nasty concoction, trying to make a love potion. I'm a normal college girl, learning my way around campus and trying not to fail my classes.
I mean, I AM normal, right?
Emma Dawes is getting used to living on campus. She's getting to know her roommate, throwing parties, doing the things that most college freshmen do. She's also been invited into a secret club, where students learn to control and unleash their innate magical abilities.
Learning about magic was great at first, but when people start dying, seemingly killed by magic users, Emma's peaceful college existence gets a whole lot more complicated... and deadly.

Rewritten first few chapters...

Hi guys,
Just thought I'd re-post the first few chapters of what I'm now calling "Undergrad Elementalist". I'm linking to Reddit, so hopefully I get some awesome feedback.

Book Jacket Insert
Do all freshmen have to deal with this shit? I mean, classes, dating, ramen noodle dinners, those I was expecting. But magic?
I never planned to be a witch, that's for sure. I'm not one of those wiccan kids, chanting and waving her hands over a nasty concoction, trying to make a love potion. I'm a normal college girl, learning my way around campus and trying not to fail my classes.
I mean, I AM normal, right?
Emma Dawes is getting used to living on campus. She's getting to know her roommate, throwing parties, doing the things that most college freshmen do. She's also been invited into a secret club, where students learn to control and unleash their innate magical abilities.
Learning about magic was great at first, but when people start dying, seemingly killed by magic users, Emma's peaceful college existence gets a whole lot more complicated... and deadly.

Chapter 1
I went home and got myself ready for the party. I took a bottle of gin out of my dad’s liquor cabinet. He’d never miss it, with the spread he’s got in there. I took a shower, straightened my hair, tried on three different tops before I decided on one, and chose to wear the black miniskirt I had just bought the day before. It was short, but not overly revealing. The top I chose was a black tank top with zippers sewn in at random places, one of which was right across my left breast. Easy access much? I switched out my normal nose ring for a jeweled stud, and put a matching jeweled nipple ring in my left breast. I had originally planned to get both nipples pierced, but the first one hurt so much I said I’d just stick with the one. I had really grown to like it, though. The tongue ring was a fairly new addition, so it couldn’t be switched out yet, but it was fine. Nine o’clock came, I put on some slightly provocative hooker boots and was ready to go.
I didn’t have to take the bus, as my friend Tom Downing had offered to drive me to the party. Tom is your typical stoner, and my best friend. He supplies half the school, and always offers to me, but I have a strict policy about drugs. Alcohol, totally cool. Speed, sometimes when cramming for a test. But nothing I have to inhale or inject. Just my choice, and I would never judge anyone else for their choices to the contrary. He came by at around nine fifteen, took one look at me and pantomimed the wolf from those old cartoons, howling and whistling.
“Emma, you slut!” Tom said, winking at me. “You didn’t get all dressed up for me, did you? I’m flattered and all, but you know you aren’t my type.” He put his arm around me as he led me to his car, which is an old, battered Buick that probably belonged to his gangster uncle at one point.
A mutual friend named Carrie sat in the passenger seat. She gave me a thumbs up and told me I should tone it down or she’d never get anyone to look at her at this party. Carrie is a sweet girl, but sort of big. She’s always been good at making herself look good despite it, which I can respect. She was looking particularly slutty tonight, as was I. I guess we both had the same idea.
“So, are you really getting outta this ‘burg next week, Emma?” Carrie asked. “I wish I was… one more year of acting like I care about high school. You guys are so lucky.”
“Here, here,” Tom said, raising an imaginary glass. “To getting out of Nowheresville.”
“Yeah, I’m going to Greenesville State,” I said. “What are your plans once I’m gone, Tom?”
“Get laid a lot up at State. You’re a major cockblock, ya know.” He winked at me, because we both knew that wasn’t true. Tom got more ass than some of the jocks, thanks to his smooth talk and the bags of weed he’d give to girls after a night of sex. He didn’t exactly buy his way into girls’ pants, but he came damn close. I hoped he’d clean his act up just a little bit up in Indiana, just enough to keep him from getting kicked out. I loved the kid the way he was, but you get caught one time dealing and you’re out.
“I’m gonna miss you, Tom. You know, until I find some other stoner to tell me how much weed will change my life.”
“Oh, I’m sure at college you’ll experiment with all sorts of stuff, girl. You give me a call when you’re tripping on acid and watching Sesame Street and tell me it’s not the best time of your life.”
It was only a fifteen minute ride to Rand’s house, even though it’s out in the richest part of town. That tells you how tiny the town really is. We arrived at the house, and there were probably thirty cars parked in the driveway. Rand has always been the type of guy who can bring different groups that didn’t get along together for a party. Another reason to really like the guy… he’s non-biased. Inevitably, several people leave the party early after someone picks a fight, but Rand never lets anything get physical in his house. He’s a big guy, and when he tells you to take it outside, you take it outside.
As we walked up to the house, I marveled again, as I always did, at its size. Three stories, and as wide as four of my own house put together, the place looked like it could be a dorm, as opposed to a single family home. There was, of course, a six car garage on the far side of the huge driveway, unattached from the house, where Rand’s father had his extremely expensive cars stored. At one party last year, someone got into the garage and egged his Hummer. Consequently, Rand’s dad had a security system installed on the garage that will alert the police if even Rand himself tries to touch the place. Everyone knows to stay away, for fear of the party getting busted.
We walked in the extravagant doors into the extravagant foyer, and were instantly assaulted with horrible rap music. Oh well. You have to deal with such a thing at a party. Everyone looked like they were having a good time, and Rand spotted me from one of the couches out of the corner of his eye and gave me a little wink and a nod. He pointed toward the kitchen, where the alcohol was always kept, and we headed there.
Rand is not your typical Kentucky boy. His parents moved here from New York City to “get some fresh air” and liked it so much for some unknown reason that they ended up staying. Rand himself looks like he belongs in a city, not a slum like this. He’s tall, with dark hair that’s always just a bit tousled. His perfect teeth are in stark contrast to the cigarette he constantly has in his mouth, and his eyes always look playful. Truth be told, I’ve always had a crush on the guy. I guess he must’ve known about it, but he always had a girlfriend, all of whom were actually really cool. I was jealous of them, sure, but at least he didn’t date any of the pom-pom brigade. Recently, Rand’s girlfriend had moved out of state, and they had broken up last I heard, hence my outfit choice for the night.
A huge assortment of alcohol, from champagne to Nattie Bo, was arrayed all over the kitchen. I put my gin down and helped myself to a beer. I’ve always been a beer girl, not so much liquor. Since I’m kinda small, it only takes maybe four of them for me to be nicely wasted, so it works out well for me. I was planning to stop at two and a half tonight, so I could enjoy myself and remember it vividly in the morning.
The party wore on, I had my couple of drinks, danced with Tom and with Rand several times. The cheerleader crowd tried to steal him away every couple dances, but he would always just dance with one of them once, and then politely excuse himself to come find me. It made me feel special, and pretty much sealed the deal for him that night.
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not a slut. In fact, before that night I had only slept with one guy, Pete Donnelly. Pete was a great guy on his own, but when you got him around his football buddies he turned into a real dick. After a night of really great sex, Pete had taken a picture with his phone of me topless. He told me he would delete it as soon as he transferred it to his computer, so he’d have something to keep him going at night. Of course he’d lied, and sent it to Johnny, who had consequently spread it around the whole school. That sure made me a slut in everyone at school's eyes, but I knew better. We girls really can be stupid when it comes to a hot guy.
Eleven o’clock came around, and the party was in full swing. Rand found me and gave my ass a little squeeze under my skirt. “You wanna go upstairs and see my stamp collection?”
I laughed. “What a line. Does that work on all the girls as well as it’s working on me?” I grabbed his hand and pulled him up the stairs.
I’d never seen Rand’s room before, but it was pretty typical of a teenage guy. Posters of mostly naked chicks on one wall, band posters on most others, but his bed was huge! It looked very comfortable too.
He closed the door and asked me what type of music I would like to hear. I told him Saosin. We’d both expressed our love of the band before, and they’re mellow enough not to ruin the mood.
After I took a quick look around the room, I settled down on his bed with my legs crossed and gave him a meaningful look. “So, what happened to Lindsay?”
“She couldn’t handle the distance. Washington State is a long way away. She dumped me about two weeks ago.”
Shit, way to bring up bad memories, dumbass, I thought to myself. “Oh, I’m really sorry Rand. I had assumed it was mutual…”
“No, it’s okay. It’s better this way, because it gives me a chance to test out a theory I’ve had for years.” He moved over to the bed and sat down.
“What theory is that?”
“That you’re a great kisser.” He leaned over and kissed me softly, just testing the waters. “Theory confirmed.”
“Now hold on, science only works by repetition,” I said with a grin.
I know. We’re lame. Nerds. Dorks. I have no shame about that, because I was about to get one of the hottest guys in school into bed.
We kissed for a little while, just enjoying each other, and then we started getting a little more heated up. He found the zipper I had mentioned earlier, and enjoyed very much unzipping it and playing with my nipple ring a bit under my bra. It felt amazing. I was really getting turned on, so I pulled away slightly and pulled off my shirt. I had worn a very sexy VS bra that he could clearly see through. He pulled his shirt off also. My God, did he have a nice body. He kissed me again, more forcefully this time, and then he pulled the comforter down and we lay down together on the bed.
After some more playing through my bra, he reached around and unhooked it. He kissed along my neck and down my chest, stopping at the nipple ring. He stayed there for a minute or so. It was amazing. In fact, I was getting hotter by the second. Hotter… and hotter… and…
Suddenly, I heard a sizzle and he yelped and pulled back. “What the hell?!” he exclaimed.
I looked down. My nipple ring was red hot. I looked at his face, and there was a small burn on his lower lip where it had touched the ring. What in the world? I started to freak out a bit, and then I noticed that my fingertips were also starting to burn holes in his sheets. I brought my hands in front of my face and my fingertips looked like they were about to burst into flames.
Rand yelled “What the hell are you doing?!” and started to run for the door. Then he thought better of it and ran to the bathroom. After a few seconds of me sitting there, wondering what the hell to do, he came back with a glass full of water and tried in vain to put out the little fires that had started on the sheets. Finally he just poured the rest on my chest. My fingers and nipples steamed away water and then went back to looking normal.
Rand stared at me open-mouthed for a few seconds. Never one to panic, however, he said “Holy shit… how did you do that?”
“I… I have no idea. I’m so sorry… your lip…”
He stuck a hand up to his lip and gingerly touched it. “Fuck that hurts.” He went back to the bathroom, presumably to look at the burn.
I was out the door of Rand's room in seconds, grabbing my discarded shirt and purse on the way. I was still wearing my black-and-pink plaid miniskirt and panties, which were now soaked through. I was totally confused but too embarrassed to show my face to Rand. I threw my shirt on as I ran down the stairs and out the door of the mansion, not even bothering to stop and find Tom. I could hear Rand calling after me, but I couldn't stop, couldn't bear to even look back. I kept looking at my hands like they were the claws of some alien being, trying to grab me, smother me, and ruin my entire sex life.
I ran for about a block, alternately sobbing and cursing myself, then pulled my phone out of my purse, which had thankfully been out of range of the bed. I called a cab to take me home.
Chapter 2
By the way, my name is Emma Dawes. Pretty normal name, eh? Simple, southern girl type of name. You can probably picture me just from my name: dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, a little pudgy from my mom’s Southern-fried-with-love cooking, wearing Daisy Dukes and a too-tight button-up shirt and just aching for a cowboy hat.
Wrong. Most days I wear dark jeans, a black top accented with red or white, bracelets and rings on each hand, pink highlights surrounded by black streaks in my blonde hair, and a nose ring. I’m also on the skinny side, since I never eat fried food and go running to burn off steam when mom and dad start fighting, which happens a lot.
Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, the morning after the party I woke up with a horrible headache, and by noon I had convinced myself that one of my “friends” had slipped me something hallucinogenic, and that Rand must have been smoking a cigarette in his room and that’s what caught the bedsheets on fire. The burn on his lip… that had to have been my imagination. Right? Right.
Rand tried to call me about thirty times the next day, but I ignored the calls. I was just too embarassed and afraid of what had happened to face him. Eventually he’d give up calling, I figured.
Thankfully, I was so busy over the next few days that I didn’t have time to think more about it. I was about to go off to college, finally leaving my little town in Kentucky to go to one of the most prestigious universities on the East Coast, Greenesville State University, in North Carolina. I had worked hard in high school, and I knew I earned the scholarships that Greenesville gave me. Orientation at GSU starts early, right at the beginning of June, and my graduation had been the last weekend in May, right before the party, giving me one week to get my stuff together. Then it would be time to catch the bus east. I had already gotten most of the essentials for my dorm room from family members as graduation presents… extra long twin sheets, pillows, a coffee pot, shower sandals, all the things that they tell you you’ll need to keep from failing out of college. The stuff I couldn’t take with me on the bus was going to be shipped to me, courtesy of my lazy father who couldn’t get off his ass and get sober long enough to drive me there with my luggage. Not that I’m bitter about it or anything, right?
Tuition and housing was almost completely paid by my scholarships, leaving a small amount that I would have to cover by taking out a small student loan each year. Not too bad for a highly-respected school. Mom and dad’s contribution would be to pay for my meal plan and send me $50 a month as a sort of allowance. That’s cool, I guess. It’s more than a lot of people get. I fully planned to get an on-campus job to supplement my income, once I got settled in at school.
My prized possession, my laptop, would be coming with me of course. I saved up for three summers to buy this laptop, paid $2500 for it, and I intended it to last me through all of college. I had a pretty substantial CD collection which I didn’t want to try to lug with me to school, so I set about copying all of my music to an external hard drive. That took up all of Sunday, Monday and Tuesday.
The next few days passed in a blur of packing and just trolling around on the web. I checked all my favorite message boards about five hundred times a day, watched a couple instant Netflix movies, and just generally took it easy. I also caught myself searching for things like spontaneous combustion and “fire hands” but didn’t see anything meaningful. Thinking about that night was starting to make my hands shake and make me a bit dizzy, so after a while I just stopped thinking about it all together, without even bothering to make up excuses.
When Saturday rolled around, my dad got me up early, around seven, and told me to pack up three boxes of stuff that he could ship to me. I did, putting anything breakable in my luggage that I’d be taking on the bus. Then it was time to go. I hugged my mom, who was a little teary-eyed. Dad drove to the local post office and shipped the boxes to my new college address, room 362 of Randall Hall at Greenesville State.
Dad then drove me to the bus station. "Is there anything left at home that we need to mail to you?" he asked. Dad is a brusk man, quiet and serious about most things, especially his job. I guess he’s an alright guy, though he drinks pretty heavily at home and is asleep most of the time he’s there. He works as a manager for a construction agency, and does some odd contracting jobs on the side. His hair was at one point blonde, but over the years most of the blonde has turned a light grey. He keeps it cropped short, and always wears a full beard, though he also keeps it short and manageable. He had always kept in shape, but in recent years his beer belly has gotten a bit pronounced, and arthritis is starting to wear him down. I figure he'll retire in a few years, but it's not something he ever discusses.
We stopped at a convenience store and dad bought me snacks for the trip, which lasts about seven hours with all the stops in between. An hour later, we were at the Greyhound station just outside of Lexington.
“I’ll miss you, Emma,” my dad said. “Do well in school, and we’ll see you at Thanksgiving.”
“Love you dad,” I said, gave him a hug, and then lugged my stuff onto the bus.
I sat in an aisle seat with my bags in the seat next to me. The person at the ticket counter had said the bus wouldn’t be anywhere near full, so I figured no one would mind. I had charged my mp3 player to the max, so I settled into my seat, put on some screamo music, and closed my eyes. A few minutes later, I heard the driver’s voice through my headphones mumbling something about having a nice trip and the weather in NC, then I felt the bus moving and I was off.
I knew I would have a lot of time to think on this trip, so I tried my best to focus on the future… classes, how I would make my dorm look, etcetera. My mind kept wandering back to Rand, though. I eventually started thinking about my childhood, growing up in that tiny town with my poor, backwards parents. It was kinda depressing, but not as confusing as other things that kept popping into my head.
When I was growing up, we didn’t have a ton of money. My dad worked at a law firm and was a decent attorney, but never showed the initiative to move up in his job, probably because he drank pretty much constantly. He eventually quit the law firm and took on construction jobs. My mom worked as an amateur tailor, sewing uniforms for the local cheerleading squads and police force, which meant she was around a lot when I was growing up. I remember when she and I were really close, back when I was the prissy little thing that she wanted me to be, wearing all the little dresses and crap that she made for me. That all changed in middle school, when I found that I liked the way I looked in black a lot more than pink, and started going to concerts with my friends instead of televised fashion shows with her. I know she resented that I had changed so much, but she put on her best smile and acted like I was still her princess. That I could appreciate, and it made me realize that I would miss her while I was away.
The bus’s first stop was in Knoxville, TN, and that was only for about twenty minutes. While we were stopped, I looked around for the first time since sitting down, and studied the other faces around me.
Very few of the passengers were anywhere near my age. Behind me and to the left , there were a number of elderly women sitting in a little group, probably gossiping about everyone from their town. There was a forty-something couple with a young boy sitting ahead of me a few seats, and their son made faces at me for a minute or two before getting bored. The kid was a bit overweight. Today’s kids were all starting to look like that. Parents just give them anything they want to shut them up, which usually involves sugar and butter. Then again, who am I to judge?
There was one girl around my age, sitting off by herself behind me. She, like myself, had a few bags with her. Unlike me, she looked like she was a pageant model. She had thick brown hair surrounding her face, huge blue eyes with eyelashes longer than my fingers, and tits like Pam Anderson. She smiled at me when she saw me looking at her, but I couldn’t help but think it was that fake kind of smile, that said You’re no competition to me, so let’s be friends. I smiled back, as genuinely as possible.
She got up from her seat, walked up to me and sat in the seat directly across the aisle from me. “Hi, I’m Stacey.”
“Hey, I’m Emma,” I said. “You headed to college too?”
“Yeah, Greenesville State. You?”
“Same. Where are you from?”
“Texarkana. Been there all my life!” She had the Southern drawl of a girl raised in Texas, but she didn’t seem as dumb as she looked. There was an intelligence in her eyes that made me think she couldn’t be all bad. “What about you? I saw you get on at Lexington, are you from around there?”
“Yeah, a tiny town on the outskirts. Really glad to get outta there. So what made you choose Greenesville?”
We continued the small talk for about a half hour. I found out she’s an Art History major (not the Fashion Design major I pegged her for) and that she would be in the Broadwater dorm complex. From what I understood of the school, Broadwater was a smaller, but much newer dorm than Randall. I also learned that she had three younger brothers, and that she was the first to go to college in her family. The more we talked, the more I felt bad for judging Stacey from her appearance. She might look like a Barbie girl, but Stacey has the brains and the common sense to go to a good school. I was hoping she could be my first new friend at Greenesville.
“Well, I’m gonna go back to my seat and read for a bit,” Stacey said when we got to the next stop in Asheville. “Do you wanna exchange numbers so we can hang out some once we’re there? It would be great to know someone there during the first few days.”
“Sounds great,” I said, honestly glad to have met her. We switched cell numbers and she went back to her seat. I smiled to myself. Hopefully all the girls at the school will be as cool as her. Maybe not as pretty. I don’t want too much competition, I thought to myself. Of course, I knew there would be many people at Greenesville who would definitely NOT be as cool as her, would judge me for the way I looked and dressed, etcetera. Well, at least the place is big enough to stay away from them, for the most part, I told myself.
The rest of the ride was just more of the same. At one stop I walked back to sit with Stacey and chatted with her a bit more. I found that we didn’t have much in common as far as music, but we liked the same style of movies so we had some common ground there. She told me how she had broken up with her boyfriend before leaving for college, because he would be staying in Texarkana and they had never really gotten serious anyway. We made plans to go shopping for things for our dorms, and found that we’d be taking the same shuttle from the Greenesville bus station to the school.
I returned to my seat about twenty minutes before we were supposed to arrive in Greenesville, listened to a little metal, then we were there. The Greenesville station didn’t really look any different from the one in Lexington, but despite that fact I knew that this was the start of a new chapter in my life. I couldn’t wait to get to school.
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The shuttle dropped us off on the Greenesville campus at the circle between all of the dorms. I had looked at a map of the campus, and it was shaped like a big circle, with the academic buildings on the bottom left section, the dorms covering most of the top, and the gym and administrative buildings on the bottom right. There was a Greek row at the top of the circle, and we were dropped off just down the street from it.
A couple of the fraternities had set up right there at the drop-off point, offering to carry your stuff to your dorm for you. Stacey and I both took them up on the offer, and so we walked toward our new dorms with two muscular football-types dragging our stuff behind us, probably staring at both our asses. Both guys were from the same fraternity, Kappa Omega Delta, and seemed like decent enough guys. Of course, you don’t know how these guys can be until you get them in a group of their buddies at a party.
Stacey and I parted ways in front of Broadwater. The building actually looked to be about the size of Rand’s house back home, and I was caught by a pang of guilt and remorse about the missed opportunity. Oh well. The front of Broadwater was mostly simple red brick, with a nice-looking entranceway and card-key access to all of the doors. We were given keys to Randall, so I assumed they hadn’t yet upgraded it to card-keys. There were a few people standing outside of Broadwater smoking, and they all politely said hi to Stacey as she walked in. She didn’t notice, but two of the guys checked her out as she was walking by, and high-fived each other once she was past. Well, that’s to be expected… she’s gorgeous, I thought.
On our way to Randall, I made a little conversation with my assigned frat boy. His name was Steve, a third year Business/Econ double major, and honestly seemed like a very nice guy. I wasn’t getting a judgmental vibe from him, and he wasn’t checking me out every time I caught his eyes. We passed the dining hall and about five other dorm buildings with names like Portsmouth, Walleye, and Samuels. Random names given by the rich alumni who had paid for them. They all looked as if they were kept up well and there were always a few trees and bushes in the front yards to give the semblance of nature.
We got to Randall and it looked just like I remembered it from the brochure. Large, made mostly of faded brick with some columns at the entrance making it look a bit like a courthouse. To me, it looked like home already. I went into the lobby, which was really just a small entranceway with a desk set into the wall and a large door that served as the barrier between the residents and the outside world. I checked in at the desk and went up to the third floor.
The hallway was decorated in a Snoopy theme, with lots of “Welcome New Residents!” and “Have a Great Year!” It was just a little bit sickening, but I suppose it’s part of an RA’s job to do crap like that.
I passed a bunch of other rooms. A few of the doors were open, with some other Freshmen setting up their new rooms. The upperclassmen wouldn’t arrive for another week. Finally we reached my room, number 362. Steve put my bags down outside and wished me good luck moving in and with my classes. I thanked him and he headed out. I opened the door to my new home.
Chapter 3
My roommate hadn’t shown up yet, apparently, because the room was empty. There was a sink in the back corner with a mirrored medicine cabinet above it. There were two wardrobes with drawers at the bottom of them, and two desks, and two of those extra-long twin beds. Just as expected. The setup of the room wasn’t ideal, I decided, and set to work rearranging things a bit. I’d have to ask my roommate if we could bunk the beds. I wouldn’t mind having the top bunk if she’d be ok with it, and it would give us some more room to work with.
I had a flash of jealousy for the first floor residents. We were on an all-girls’ floor, and right below us on the second floor would be the guys, but the first floor was all mixed suites, with single bedrooms and bathrooms for four people instead of the whole floor. I envied them, but I just couldn’t afford the suites. Maybe once I’ve got a campus job…
I moved my bags into the room then, and started unpacking a few things. I put my red satin sheets, which I love, on my bed and started putting some clothes in the wardrobe that I had claimed for myself. A lot of my clothing would be coming in the mail, so I really only had about a week’s worth to put away. After that was done, I set up my laptop on the desk, plugged it into the Ethernet jack, and started surfing the net. We had gotten our login names and passwords in the mail, so I signed on and checked my e-mail. I was about to start browsing to my favorite weblogs when my roommate walked in.
The first impression I got of her was “nerd”. That’s fine with me, of course, I was a nerd too. I remembered from our orientation packet that her name was Allison and that she was a Computer Science major. Her hair was very dark brown, a bit mousy looking. She had glasses and a bit of a pudgy face, but she could be a cute girl if she put some effort to it. She was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, and carrying a military-issue duffel bag. Must be an army brat, I thought. Her t-shirt, stretched across her chest, said “+5 shirt of smiting”. Hmm… a Dungeons and Dragons kid too. This could be a long year…
She seemed startled to see me at first, but quickly recovered. “Hi, I’m Allie,” she said in a quiet voice.
“Hey Allie. I’m Emma. Need a hand with anything?”
“Oh, no, I’m fine. Thanks though.” She smiled at me.
I let her get a little settled in while I surfed some more. Once she had unpacked a little, I pitched the idea of the bunk beds. “Hmm… I guess we could try it out. I’m afraid of heights though…”
“Oh I can take the top bunk. I don’t mind a bit of climbing. It would give us enough room in here to maybe put a TV stand and a small TV. Maybe even a small futon. What do you think?”
“That could be cool,” she said, still obviously shy. “I’d like to be able to watch Mutants every week.”
“Awesome, I’m into Mutants too. We can have roommate bonding time drooling over Peter,” I said with a wink. She giggled just a bit and we went to work bunking the beds.
About an hour later, after we had gotten pretty well settled in, there was a knock on our doorframe. “Hey guys!” said an enthusiastic-looking girl at our doorway. She looked to be a couple years older, short and muscular. Obviously our RA. She must be an athlete, I thought to myself. “I’m your RA, Natasha. We’re going to have a floor meeting at 5, so if you guys could meet us all in the lounge that would be awesome!” A little too perky. Ugh.
“We’ll be there,” I said.
“Okay, see you soon!” She closed the door behind her.
I gave Allie a look that basically summed up my feelings about Natasha. She nodded her head very seriously and then we both burst out laughing.
I decided to check out the shower facilities before the meeting, so I walked down the hall until I found a restroom. I looked inside and saw some sinks, several showerheads with partitions between them, a small shelf below each to put your shampoo and such, and a little hook on the opposite side of the shower area to hang your towel. Not bad, really. At least they try for a little bit of privacy. None of the showers were in use now, of course, it being the middle of the day.
I saw another opening on the other end of the shower area, and got curious. I walked through and found that there was a hot tub in there! Not a really nice one, of course, and only big enough for two people at most, but it was nice to know that if I needed to soak and veg out a bit, I had somewhere to do it. Finding the hidden hot tub made me curious if all of the bathrooms were that way, so I walked down the hall some more and checked out the other ones. There were four womens’ rooms on the floor, and two for men, surprisingly. I suppose it didn’t make sense for visitors to have to walk down a whole floor.
Two of the other rooms were smaller, with only a few showerheads and no hot tub, but the one all the way at the other end of the hall was identical to the first one I found. I was genuinely impressed with the facilities in Randall, and wondered if the other dorms were like this.
When I got back to the room, Allie had her computer out and was playing WOW. Uh-oh, I thought to myself, she might stay up all night playing that crap. I guess I’ll find out soon enough.
I surfed the net for a while more until it was time to go to the floor meeting. Allie closed out of WOW and we locked our door on the way out.
The lounge was toward the middle of the hall, between the two smaller bathrooms. I saw other girls filing into it, looking about as excited as I was. As I walked in the door I saw that there were three refrigerators on one side of the room, with two ranges and some countertop space right next to them. On the other side was a fair sized television with a DVD/VCR combo next to it. In the center, currently, were about 40 chairs placed in a circle, half-filled with girls. Oh God, I knew we’d have to do stupid introduction games. NOT what I had in mind for my first night at school.
I’m not going to detail the stupidity of the next hour and a half. Suffice it to say that the peppy RA had three others just like her, and they made us do stupid name memorization games which would never work.
Several of the girls looked like the type I would want nothing to do with, the cheerleaders/prom queens, but I had learned on the bus that looks could be deceiving. I decided to give every one of them an honest chance.
I didn’t make any new friends at the meeting because there were just too many people, but as Allie and I were walking out we chatted with a couple girls who were walking our direction, Cynthia and Holly. We found out that they lived right across the hall from us. Cynthia has short black hair, a beak-shaped nose, and is a rugby player; tall, lean, muscular and obviously full of energy. Holly seemed to me like the typical girl-next-door; wavy brown hair down to her shoulders, a cute oval-shaped face, freckles, and dressed casually in jeans and a form-fitting tee shirt. Both of them were very friendly and we all decided to go get dinner together at around seven.
During the discussion, Allie hadn’t said too much. She was obviously a bit introverted, so I vowed right then to try to break her out of her shell a bit. You can’t have people over to your place if you have an awkward roommate, so I wanted to make sure she wasn’t one. Despite her nerdy appearance, I could see a lot of potential there for having fun, I’d just have to bring it out.
Seven o’clock rolled around, and Holly knocked lightly on our doorframe. “You guys ready?”
“Yep, let me just put my shoes on,” I said. “Oh, hey, do you mind if I call someone and ask her if she’d like to meet us there? She's in Broadwater.” I had almost forgotten about Stacey.
“Totally fine with us,” Cynthia said, from somewhere behind Holly. I gave Stacey a call, but she didn’t answer. Might be in her own floor meeting, I thought.
We walked out into the hallway, and it seemed as if a lot of people had the same idea… tons of girls were headed out of the dorm. We went with the crowd and made it outside.
“Do you guys mind if I have a smoke on the walk over?” Allie asked, surprising me. She didn't really seem like the smoker type. We all shook our heads, although it looked like Holly made a sour face afterward.
So, we walked and talked over to the dining hall. The dining hall is a low, ugly building set between two dorms about four buildings down from Randall. It didn’t look overly crowded inside, but there was a short line out the door to get in. We got at the end of the line and chatted a bit more, just small talk.
Once we got inside, we were assaulted by the smell of fried food and grease. There were separate stations for different types of food, and a lot of it seemed edible. I went to the vegetarian section first, just because usually veg food is more healthy. I found some really delicious-looking stir-fry and some hummus and pita bread. Then I went back over to the “Home Cookin’” section and got a bit of turkey and gravy.
I got myself some apple juice and found Cynthia already seated at a table. She had nothing but meat and fruit on her tray, which wasn’t terribly surprising. The other girls found us and we all ate, eyeing up guys that walked past and making comments. Typical female behavior, I suppose. I learned that Cynthia was an Econ major, and Holly was a History major, planning to minor in Religious Studies. I told them all that I was undecided, but I wanted to do something in science.
During all this small talk, I noticed a guy sitting at the table next to us, directly across from me. He wasn’t a bad looking guy, dark hair, blue eyes, a bit of stubble on his chin, wearing mostly black… normally my type of guy, I’d say. What I noticed about him, though, was that he was staring at me. It was starting to make me a little uncomfortable, because it wasn’t the “Ooh, she’s hot” type of stare. He wasn’t smirking. He was just staring at me solemnly, and he was creeping me out. I tried not to make eye contact again, but the next time I did, for a brief second, I could swear his blue eyes turned all black. Then it was gone and he looked away to chat with a girl sitting at his table. They got up, and just before leaving he gave me that cold stare again, and this time the girl with him did it too.
“… and I was thinking of taking Philosophy 101, but then I changed my mind… Emma, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Cynthia said, rousing me out of my thoughts.
“Oh, yeah… sorry.” I tried to join in the conversation again, but over and over, that guy’s face came back to me. I couldn’t get him out of my head. We finished our dinner and headed out, but even when I was back at my room later, trying to fall asleep, his face haunted me. Who was that guy? Why was he staring at me? I felt cold, just thinking about him…