Take a task to clean out a spare hut

Praxilla's father grunts. "Well, if you're staying close, we should have you tidy up up her ma's old hut. That should give you some space, the both of you. Now you, you fuckwitted filly, go take your news to your ma."

"But Da!"

"Go. If you have plans for your pet wizard, save them for later. He's not running off on you." He scratches his beard. "Are you?"

"No, sir."

"All right, give him over, Praxie, easy does it."

The blonde centauress hands you over to her father, still loosely covered in the rough blanket that Maurippos wrapped you in before trotting off to his own wizard business. You don't wince much as your bruises smart.

"Don't go anywhere, Eric Eric, I'll he looking for you when I get back!" Praxilla swishes her tail and pouts, making a kissing noise. "Ha ha, look at that!"

Your member has stiffened at Praxilla's coquetry and stands up under her father's eyes as he holds you.

"Not the first time you've raised a stiff one, silly girl," he says. "Nor the first time you've raised this one, since he's bred you. On your way, I have him."

Where there's a will, there's a way, but when Praxilla's da hands you a rake, you need to lean on it for support.

Eventually he tells you, "Leave off, you're useless today."

You try and plead your case to him, but he waves you off. "Pff, let's stow you in a corner until you get over this. C'mon now."

He scoops you up and walks over to a well-kept house? barn? situated across from the disused building you were to clean.

A bowl of soup, a mug of strong ale, and soon you're snoozing on a straw bale wrapped in the rough blanket from Maurippos' hut.

The next you wake, it's a cold morning. There's a ringing of metal on metal from a distance. You ache in shoulders, ribs, and back. You're still in Praxilla's father's place, lying on a straw bale. naked under the blanket, with a firm morning erection rubbing against the coarse fabric.

But you do have your wand, tucked under your arm. Does Boarbristle know what's up with you? With you and Praxilla? Does Ms. Sterling know? You're in enough trouble already, you don't want to just be absent.

Time to call in. Ms. Sterling if you can. Miss Hemstitch the Tutor, next, or the Door Prefect or the Warden if you have to.

You ease your bare feet carefully onto the cold, grass-strewn floor, and compose yourself, breathing energy into your aura until you are ready to call the Academy.

Through the wavering magical mirror of your connection, Aurelia Sterling listens with a concerned expression. "I will tell Miss Hemstitch of your situation. Until your Tutor advises you otherwise, you follow the guidance of Maurippos, who is Boarbristle's instructor present. I will ask your friend Nadia to bring you fresh robes and whatever is needful. You're injured, Mothwing-Marshall?"

"Just hurting, Mistress, ah, Ms. Sterling. Bruised and aching. Would you tell Miss Wormwood...?"

"I will. Take care, Mothwing-Marshall."

You make a start on the tidying you had tried to do yesterday. You're still tired and aching, but a start is a start.

The ringing of metal proceeds, on and off, as your tentative tidying becomes more serious. But when someone calls your attention, it's not Praxilla's father.

It's Miss Wormwood.

Startled by her sudden appearance, you freeze.

Boarbristle's Nurse, a tall woman of whipcord and sinew, with grey complexion, staring eyes, and a nest of fanged green vipers for hair, wrapped in a white robe and apron, looks so out of place here amid green grass, leafy trees, and dappled sunlight, that all you can do is stare.

"Mistress Beeblossom sent me," she says. "Move about, Mothwing, you're not a statue." She waves her arms, directing your motion, pitilessly noting every twinge or flinch as you move and pose. "That won't even need a tonic. Toss that blanket off. One shoulder touching the door frame, now bend, hands on your knees. There."

You dread what's coming, but your member rises in anticipation. Miss Wormwood moves behind you. She adjusts your posture with a touch of her hands, here and there. There's a slithering of serpentine scales behind your ears, then a bite. Another bite. A faint stinging precedes a warm flush of blood to every limb and all over your skin. Whatever aches and stiffness you had, all that is gone. She helps you rise upright, your ears singing and thumping with your rushing blood.

"I am impressed, young man, if it is in fact true that you have covered a centauress, stood stud to her, and bred with your own seed."

You shiver and swallow with unease. Wild Magic, the trouble that brought you here and might keep you here.

"Never fear, I'm not here to seek your firstborn. Others would have more claim than I. But do come back by the Infirmary, Mr. Mothwing-Marshall, and gift me another dose of your extraordinary seed, when you can."

When Miss Wormwood is done, and you're wrapped up in the scratchy blanket again, your study partner Nadia Corby, dressed in House Beavertail's brown and gold, steps up with two baskets on a cross-beam. Her broom follows along like a loyal pet. How did she do that?

Nadia points to the baskets. "This one's food, from Cook. She was worried. This one's shoes and clothes. Because."

Because Wild Magic.

"Right. Thanks Nadia, you're a champ." You take the baskets and put them down to the side.

"We weren't sure how long you might be here, you know?" Nadia says. She brushes back her curly brown hair.

"I think," you begin. "How long does a centaur take for a pregnancy?"

"Oh Eric, is it true?" Nadia's eyes widen. "I didn't believe it."

"Maurippos said so, I don't figure he'd be wrong."

Nadia steps up and gives you a hug. You're both trembling. "You take care of yourself, Eric."

"I will." I hope.

When you lift the rake again, you get a twinge in your back and curl over to the side. "Ow!"

Miss Wormwood bustles up from where she was standing in the shadows. "I won't have you putting things wrong again, Mothwing," she says. She eyes you and makes a gesture with her wand. Her head full of snakes all nod, or is it bow, in unison. "Hsst," they hiss. She frowns and brings out a vial from the folds of her white Infirmary robes. "Very well then, drink this. But have a care, young man. I'm depending on you to bring this back in one piece." Her cool, long-fingered hand darts under the blanket and cups the root of your erect member.

"Miss Wormwood?" Nadia says, startled.

"Materia magica, Miss Corby," she says. "The essence of his Talent is unusually strong. Drink, Eric." She holds you by the balls until you've complied.

With her latest remedy down the hatch, the results are rapid. The thumping of the pulse in your ears and temples recedes, and a broader warmth and ease spreads across your body. The tight muscle in your back loosens.

"Thank you, Miss Wormwood."

"Your best thanks is to endure, to nurture your strength, and to see me again." She looks to Nadia. "Corby, shall we return?"

Nadia straddles her broom. Miss Wormwood mounts behind her, grasping Nadia's hips with her long pale fingers. Her head full of snakes tastes the wind in every direction, forked tongues flickering, scales glittering in the morning sunlight.

"Merry meet again!" Nadia calls to you. But her voice is uncertain. The broom lifts and turns into the wind. Nadia's brown robes and Miss Wormwood's white robes ripple with the breeze as the broom rises, gains speed, and is soon lost in the distance.

The basket of clothes includes shoes, stockings, and two chore-day smocks alongside two fresh scholar's robes. You hurriedly dress and go to with renewed resolution to do well by Praxilla, or by yourself if this is where you'll be. With Miss Wormwood's extra tonic dose, you power through the cleaning and tidying and then you're back to see Praxilla's father and find out what else needs to happen.

"Leave off, you silly chit!" you hear her father from around the corner. "Stop."

"Tra la, tra la!" Praxilla replies. There's a little rumble of her hooves dancing around. She comes round the corner and grabs you by both shoulders.

"Eric!" she crows. "Come with me!"

"But your father...?"

Do you put her off or go along with her? Well, you'd have to struggle, but...

...she scoops you up and carries you off.

Her father shouts after her as she trots away.

But what you're thinking about is the basket of food that Cook packed for you, and the basket of clean clothes Nadia packed. At least you're in a regular cleaning smock and shoes, now.

"I hope we're not going far."

"Tra la, tra la!" is Praxilla's reply.

Moves and Rolls:

Accept a VERY EASY (-0) GOAL vs. DILIGENCE to ready the space for you to rest up and possibly to share with Praxilla during your PATERNITY. Roll +DILIGENCE (+1) = +2 Diligence, -1 CONSEQUENCE: Bruised and Battered.

Roll 2d6+1 = 4, Miss. Keep the GOAL. Roll an ENCOUNTER with Praxilla's father at a -1: 2d6+Diligence +2, -1 CONSEQUENCE, -1 Forward, -1 = 2d6 = 2 1 = 3, Miss.

Roll 2d6+3 (+2 CUNNING, -1 CONSEQUENCE, +2 FRIEND) to reach Ms. Sterling using ENCOUNTER: 8 + 3 = 11. On a 10+, she is willing and able to help you, either take +1 Forward or remove a CONSEQUENCE. (Take +1 Forward; she passes your message along).

Roll +DILIGENCE (-1 CONSEQUENCE, +1 FORWARD) to ENCOUNTER Miss Wormwood: 9+1 = 10. Remove your CONSEQUENCE.

Roll +DILIGENCE (+2) to ACHIEVE YOUR GOAL: 2d6 + 2 = 4 + 2 = 6, Miss. Use Miss Wormwood's FAVOR to tip the balance here, so treat it as a 7-9. You achieve your goal, but DEAL WITH YOUR HANGER-ON. As a Very Easy GOAL (+0), there's no reward beyond satisfying your promise to Praxilla's father.

DEAL WITH YOUR HANGER-ON: +AMBITION(-1) at -1 (HANGER-ON): 11 - 2 = 9. APPEASE YOUR HANGER-ON. On a 7-9, they're a distraction. Take -1 Forward.

But where is Praxilla taking you?

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

You used your FAVOR from Miss Wormwood to get a tonic to help with your GOAL.

You have a FRIEND, Aurelia Sterling, your Enchantments teacher, who has taken a special interest in your progress.

You are in PATERNITY with Praxilla the Centauress. See Safe/Unsafe sex and PREGNANCY SCAREs making Praxilla your HANGER-ON.

You have 8 XP and may apply ADVANCEMENT. Advancement could shape Eric's path forward, such as choosing Maurippos as FRIEND with FAVOR to anchor a start with Care of Magical Creatures, or reveal some underlying trouble which Eric is well-placed to help with, and add a FRIEND and FAVOR to pursue that.