Looking up at the bearded face of a centaur wizard

A thickly-bearded face with a kindly expression meets your gaze. "Follow my finger with your eyes," he says. "Leave your head still."

You're lying on your back on something firm and scratchy, looking up at a ceiling that looks like bundles of straw. There's a smell of horse, hay, sweat, and piss. The cold air on your bare skin makes you shiver, and your arm hairs rise up in bumps as gooseflesh. Your body aches. Your vision blurs as you follow the moving finger.

Roll +Bravery(-1 from your CONSEQUENCE): 8 - 1 = 7. On a 7-9, using GET OUT OF THE INFIRMARY, you are on the mend. You may roll to ENCOUNTER Master Maurippos, the centaur wizard, or another well-wisher; in any case, DEAL WITH YOUR HANGER-ON, Praxilla.

You blink and your vision clears so you can follow the finger. The curly-bearded figure is Maurippos, the centaur wizard who offered you the task of seeing Praxilla back home, in exchange for being considered for Care of Magical Creatures next term. You suppose you've well and truly muffed your chance at making a good first impression on him.

You and Praxilla had made it back in good time, but she had slipped you some Love Grass and cornered you against an old stone wall to rub her sexually sensitized rump against you.

You hadn't resisted, and outercourse had become intercourse in short order, fired by Love Grass and energized by your Wild Magic. It had been beyond wonderful for both of you, until Praxilla's exultant cries had called in the unruly young stallions she had been trying to avoid.

Maurippos nods, scratches his thick black beard, and coughs. "You have visitors. I don't advise that you rise to greet them."

You glumly reflect that Praxilla might be easier to get along with if you hadn't been the instrument of the best, longest, most climactic fuck of her entire life, since the only person you've seen her actually be respectful to is her father.

"Help me up, sir? Can I at least sit up?"

It's a painful maneuver but you make it to a sitting position. You're on a bale of straw in a chilly little building pretending it's an infirmary with you as the only patient. Maurippos throws a rough blanket around your shoulders, taking no special care to cover your member, half-hard with an ebbing morning erection. You suppose centaurs prefer their cocks exposed for good practical reasons.

Goodbye to another House Beavertail robe, it had been shredded and blown to the four winds when your Love Grass-stiffened member had entered Praxilla's needy sex, and the Wild Magic rose up.

But faint heart never won fair lady, or never won an early in for Care of Magical Creatures, anyroads. You clear your throat.

"Sir, before they come in..."

Roll +Bravery (-1 with CONSEQUENCE) 3 - 1 = 2: Miss.

"No, no, there's a good boy," Maurippos fends you off. "I must go. Classes to teach. Wizardlings to advise. And all that. Halfway across the Wood is a distance, even for me."

And so he takes his magic staff in hand and leaves you to the tender mercies of your visitors, still aching and a bit chilly. You settle the blanket around you and hope it doesn't become one more thing lost to your Wild Magic. Maybe you'll have to learn some clothing conjuration spells.

Chilly, aching, and out of sorts, you're really not ready to face Praxilla, but you have to see her none the less.

You hear raised voices outside. Praxilla and her sire, arguing. But Praxilla cuts him off with a word. She bursts into your room, smiling. "Eric Eric!" she cries out. She swoops in and bends slightly to hug you. Her bare chest is warm, but you wince as she squeezes your bruised body with her strong arms.

"Praxilla, I'm happy to but I am too tired and hurting for anything else. May I just... rest?"

Replace the CONSEQUENCE, PREGNANCY SCARE, with the CONSEQUENCE, BATTERED AND BEATEN.

Choose INDULGE, PUT OFF, or DISCOURAGE your Hanger-On. (PUT OFF). Roll +Ambition (-3: -1 Ambition, -1 CONSEQUENCE, -1 HANGER-ON) to Deal With Your Hanger-On; 6 - 3 = 3, Miss.

On a miss, they throw an embarrassing fit, and you have to expend a FAVOR, or else take another CONSEQUENCE or GET OUT OF TROUBLE.

Praxilla lifts you off the straw bale like she picked you up yesterday, a bride's carry with you as the bride. Your vision blurs as pain breaks to the fore.

"Praxilla, stop, it hurts," you manage to utter.

But she's holding you close and clucking over you like a broken doll.

It still hurts. It's hard to talk or think.

"We can't wait any longer," Praxilla insists. "The old magic man says I'm up the duff, and it's yours!"

"Mine?" you croak.

"Of course it's yours," Praxilla says. "None of those bad boys mounted me! Only you, the one and only! You should have seen me, I fought them all off and sent them packing with bloody noses. Why I..."

"Praxilla? Can you get me back to Boarbristle. I'm really beaten up. See? I'm really hurt. For me?"

Choose one:

Expend Praxilla's FAVOR to mollify her since she won't be put off.

"Oh! Why didn't you tell me, Eric Eric? We can't have that. You need to be at your best for me. And no taking you back to those fuddy-duddy old wizards, now that I have you here, you're not going to slip away on me. I won't give you back. I know what to do!"

You have Ambition -1, Bravery 0, Cunning +2, Diligence +2.

You have a FAVOR from Miss Wormwood, and a FRIEND, Aurelia Sterling, your Enchantments teacher.

You are in PATERNITY with Praxilla the Centauress, after a prolonged, intense sexual encounter fueled by Love Grass which put both of you on heat. See Safe/Unsafe sex and PREGNANCY SCAREs which makes Praxilla your HANGER-ON.

You have 8 XP and may apply ADVANCEMENT. Maybe it's time to spend some of it!