Chapter 2: Born Under a Bad Sign

~CHRIS----

My heart was racing.

I’d been to Liz’s house probably hundreds of times at this point; she’d bought it ages ago with help from her parents, and it had hosted countless board game nights and campaign sessions over the years.

It was generally a familiar, comforting place to visit. This time was different though.

We’d been able to find a good time to kick off the campaign, a few weeks from now. Scheduling the character creation sessions had turned out to be a pain in the ass.

I’d texted Mike to ask him how his character creation session with the rest of the gang had gone. I’d gotten a monosyllabic fine in response.

Then I’d texted Liz to ask if there was anything I could do to help the campaign go well, or to make sure I was ready for character creation.

Her reply: nah, just show up!:)

... At least there had been a smiley face.

After that, I’d started, deleted, started, deleted, started ... and finally given up on a text to Erin. What could I say to her at this point? Sorry you couldn’t get me off, we should try again? Sorry Monica could get me off, it won’t happen again?

Sorry things got weird?

In the weeks since the finale, I’d spent a lot of time thinking about how things had gone in the last campaign. What I could’ve done differently. How maybe if I had stood up to Monica from the beginning, things wouldn’t be so awkward with my friends.

Of course, in the back of my head was a nagging doubt that kept worming its way forward to interrupt that train of thought:

You did try to stand up to her. You just couldn’t.

Worse, often I’d start mulling it over ... and then realize I was just turning myself on.

There was just no escaping how hot it had been. I’d replayed the memory dozens of times: Monica, looking up at me glassy-eyed, as Liz fucked her through an orgasm.

The memory of how her tits had felt, bouncing against me with each thrust Liz gave her, until I couldn’t just take it anymore.

Shit. Even now, I was getting hard thinking about it. I was going to see both of them today.

And then I thought about the look of astonishment on Liz’s face as I came; the disappointment on Erin’s.

I sighed. Hot, but the cost -- to both my pride and my friendships -- had been heavy.

I’d been standing at Liz’s front door for a solid thirty seconds, just silently lost in my own thoughts. I took a deep, steadying breath, and raised my hand to knock.

“Hi, Chris. Long time no see.”

I recognized the voice from behind me immediately, of course.

I turned, doing my best to compose myself. “Hi, Monica.”

She was wearing a black babydoll top and jeans. She looked good, of course; she always did. The top clung to her big tits, showing off a swell of soft, inviting cleavage; jeans clung to her round hips and butt.

But the attire made me realize that I’d really mostly seen her in two states: dressed up as some character from our last game, and naked. Seeing her in casual wear put me on my back foot.

She was looking up at me, lips quirked into a smile. “How’ve you been?”

“Uh, good.” I tore my eyes off her body. “How about you?”

“Good,” she echoed. The word hung in the air between us for a moment before she continued. “I’m curious to see what it’ll feel like to be a player.”

Well, that I understood. “Ha, yeah. I wondered the same thing when I joined your game.”

“You know, you never did tell me what you thought of my campaign.” Amusement danced in her eyes. “Did you have fun? You really seemed to enjoy the finale.”

“I, uh, yeah.” I could feel my face heating. But the reminder of just how strained things had gotten with my friends kept me grounded enough to pointedly add, “I do love a story with a big, climactic finish. It’s always fun to see the villain get her just desserts.”

Her smile didn’t fade. “Think we’ll tell the same kind of story this time? All of us working together to defeat some bad guy Liz cooks up?” She cocked her head. “Although I guess you and I worked together quite a lot last campaign, didn’t we? Cedwin was kind of the Night Queen’s ally...”

I rolled my eyes. “What? No he wasn’t. He stood against her at the end.”

“Mmm. At the end, sure. Not at the beginning though. Or during most of the middle, really.” She stretched, idly. My gaze wandered down to her breasts again, the way they shifted; the smooth, soft expanse of pale skin at her stomach as her top rode up.

When I looked back up at her face, her dark eyes were watching me; her voice when she spoke was quiet, intense. “See anything you’ve been missing?”

I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry.

And then the door opened, and Liz poked her head out. “Uh, hi? How long have you guys been out here? Does my doorbell not work or something? You could knock...”

Monica laughed, unfazed. “Hi, Liz. Nah, we were just catching up,” she said, smoothly.

I nodded, still at a loss for words, and turned to look at Liz. She was wearing a blue sundress; the strappy top showed off a defined upper back, and the bottom was short enough to reveal a pair of tanned, toned thighs.

She certainly hadn’t been skipping leg day.

“Well, come on in.” She opened the door the rest of the way. “Good to see you, Monica.”

Monica and Liz exchanged an odd, complicated glance; I couldn’t quite read it, but there was a brief moment of tension as they held each other’s gazes, before Monica breezed inside past her.

Liz eyed me with affection and gave me a hug. “Hey, Chris. Ready to make a character?”

The hug made me realize that the charged conversation with Monica had me at half-mast already.

I hoped Liz didn’t notice. Jesus. What a way to start this campaign.

If she noticed, she didn’t show it; I stepped back, returning her friendly smile. “For sure. Hey, Liz. How’d things go with the rest of the gang?” A specific thought occurred to me. “How’s Mike?”

“Well enough, I think.” She shrugged, glancing inside where Monica had gone, before lowering her voice. “I mean, he’s got a huge crush on Fiona. It’s really obvious. But I think they had fun, and they made good characters.”

I winced, but nodded, recalling the way Fiona had Mike wrapped around her finger last game.

Hopefully it wouldn’t be such a big problem with her as a player instead of helping Monica out by playing NPCs.

Liz gave me a commiserating smile. “Anyway, c’mon. Let’s head inside.”

I followed her inside, doing my best to keep my eyes off her butt as we went in.

I’d forgotten how difficult eye contact had been last game.

“... And there were four children born that night, twenty years ago, while the Moon was absent from the sky.

Born in the Pale Sea -- unquestionably, the land of the Sun.

Each child marked by the Sun, in their own way. Each destined to play an important role, once they came of age.”

The three of us were sitting in her living room, cold drinks in front of us on little cocktail napkins.

Liz was sitting across the coffee table in one of her armchairs, leaning forward as she read from text she’d obviously prepared in advance.

Monica was giving her a thoughtful, considering look. “Very nice. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I like it. Clever themes.”

Liz gave her a thumbs up. “Thanks for answering so many of my questions about the setting.”

“So what kind of characters did everybody else make?” I asked.

Liz leaned back, crossed her legs. “Well, Fiona made a paladin, and Mike made a rogue.”

There was a brief silence.

“ ... What about Erin?” Monica asked.

Liz paused. “Actually, she, uh ... might not make a character.”

I blinked, aghast. “What?”

It dawned on me, then, that her little beginning setting information had said ‘four children born that night.’ But there were five players: me, Monica, Fiona, Mike... and Erin.

Liz gave me a placating look. “Erin said her work had gotten really busy, okay? She and I are going to try to find time before the first session but it might be tight. She might just join the campaign late, is all.”

My heart sank. Erin had never not played with us. In spite of being some high-powered marketing executive these days, she always made time to play.

I gave Liz an annoyed glare. I couldn’t believe she hadn’t told me this until now.

Maybe Erin was just busy, like Liz was saying. Or... “Maybe she just didn’t have fun with the last campaign,” I muttered aloud. I gave Monica a withering look.

Monica didn’t seem to notice. “Too bad. Okay, so a paladin and a rogue so far?”

Liz nodded.

Monica glanced at me. “What kind of character do you want to make, Chris?”

I reluctantly rerouted my train of thought; I could find out from Liz what was really going on with Erin later.

I’d spent a lot of time considering what character to make, with a simple question in my mind: what would give me a leg up on Monica and her games?

And I’d come up with a clear frontrunner. “I was thinking I might make a warlock.”

I’d picked warlock based on how the last game had gone, for two simple reasons:

First, warlocks were charismatic. If I needed to roll to convince someone to do something, I wanted to be good at it.

And second, they could cast spells. I’d thought about the last campaign enough times to consider how often some magical knowhow or a well-placed Dispel Magic, Counterspell, or Charm Person spell might’ve changed things.

Monica’s smile was canny, like she understood precisely why I’d want to be a warlock. “Well, I was kind of hoping to make a warlock, too ... how badly do you want to be one?”

I considered. I could make a sorcerer, or maybe a bard instead; they’d have similar strengths. But if Monica was a warlock, those wouldn’t make for a very balanced party. “Pretty badly,” I said, evenly.

Monica considered this. “Okay,” she said, finally, shrugging. “But only if I get to come up with your character’s costume. I have some good warlock cosplay ideas. That’s why I wanted to play one.”

“As long as it’s nothing ... weird,” I said, cautiously.

Monica nodded, sagely. “Right. Your character consorts with dark powers, but you don’t want his outfit to be weird. Got it.”