#stinky calypso | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

salendola · 4 months ago

Text

Just the Once - a Laertes/Penelope Fic

I'm two out of three books into the Songs of Penelope trilogy by Claire North, and my brain decided that it was time to write porn for that old man.

So here it is, the Penelope/Laertes NSFW fic no one asked for. You're welcome.

TITLE: Just the Once RATING: Explicit CONTAINS: good back rubs, cunnilingus, hand job, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, Laertes being a gentleman, Penelope letting herself go for a bit, Aphrodite being a motivational narrator

Just The Once

Just to be clear: I am a goddess and I do not peep. Where love goes, so do I, and that is all there is to it.

Love, of course, meaning any and all kinds. I am there for the mother who holds her child to her breast, singing the songs of her mother before her, and then her mother before her, and so on and so forth, all the way back to the very beginning. Two friends sharing stories, laughing together, their bare feet soaking in the stream. You should’ve seen his face! I thought I was going to wet myself laughing. Ah, such joy there is in love. Such wonder. Such power. And yes, I am there for the passionate, desperate love too. That is hardly news, is it? I would hope not. But let’s not get distracted.

Currently, I am making my way up the path that leads to the castle of the long-absent, oft-remembered Odysseus, King of Ithaca, who, at this very moment, buries his face in the ample bosom of Calypso, squeezing a breast with a calloused hand while Poseidon lurks within the ocean, the waves lapping at the shore a perpetual reminder that, should Odysseus leave the island, it will be the last thing he ever does. My time will come, Odysseus.

Or so he thinks, at least. We shall see.

Today was one of those days that’ll be spoken of later as being a real scorcher. Here, in the fullness of summer, the trees brought what little cooling they could, but it didn’t make as much of a difference as it usually would, and the people inside their various houses suffered from the heat. A few of the elderly had already fainted. Quite the scorcher indeed, and a quiet day for me when it came to passion. There is such a thing as too hot weather, and even the most ardent of lovers may find themselves upon the stone floor of their rooms, doing their best impression of a starfish. No, today was not a day for physical intimacy.

The night, on the other hand, was a different matter entirely, and I have to admit I may even have been a little surprised. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves, for there is the end of the path, and there, sandaled feet and all, stands Laertes, former king of Ithaca, in a toga that had seen better, less sweaty days, though it is still one of his cleaner ones. He wastes little time in dispatching of it and the sandals and wades into the pool.

When he’d fully submerged himself, Laertes finally felt his body cool, and about time too. No man should have this much sweat on his body for this long. Back in his sailing and adventuring days, he’d been fine being a stinky, sweaty man among so many other stinking, sweating men, muscles glistening oh so splendidly in the hot light of the sun, inviting a good ogle and maybe a gentle touch or two - it’s alright, girls, grab all you like - but the years had taken some of that flexibility and physical prowess from him, and now Laertes loved a good breeze as much as the next old man. Old. Not a word he much liked, but at the same time he appreciated having made it this far. It’s never a given, you know, is what he’d say time and again, unasked. Age is a gift.

He soaked in the lack of human voices and bickering, instead enjoying the nightly noises coming from the surrounding trees. This pool was never his domain, but rather that of Anticlea, Penelope, and their maids. He’d set foot in this place a few times, but only when invited. Granted, those invitations had been pleasant, and he had fond memories of his wife’s body as they’d bathed and made love here together.

Laertes was a man of intellect, and while he’d been taught to just take women in the Greek tradition - that being with them face down, mere tools for pleasure and procreation - he’d quickly realised this was not the way to go. What helped immensely with that realisation was Anticlea, who’d delivered an astonishingly powerful kick in his unmentionables when he’d even so much as tried it. He’d been hurt and then angry, but what truly got to him was the look on her face. You may chide him for not understanding this sooner, but Laertes had not seen fear in his wife’s eyes before, and when he did see it, decided he did not like it. What followed was many nights of deep and vested research into the dos and don’ts of physical intimacy, which was more than Anticlea expected, though it was not at all unwelcome. Thinking back on those nights he’d spent in this very pool, enveloped in pleasure with his beautiful wife, tugged on his heartstrings and certain other parts of his anatomy in equal measure. It’s okay, I whispered, caressing his arm, you’re alone, enjoy these thoughts.

Of course, Laertes wouldn’t be alone for long. A new set of footsteps approached, and the old man swiftly and quietly dove under, swimming softly to the far end of the pool, hoping no one saw him.

Penelope, too, was having a night of little sleep. It was simply too warm for such things. She’d managed to sneak out of her room, leaving her maids to their dreams. Now, wearing nothing but the flimsiest and most basic of robes, her sandaled feet barely making a sound, she too approached the pool.

From behind a large water lily, Laertes observed as Penelope sat down by the water, took off her sandals and bathed her tired feet in the stream, as she’d done many times before, and let her thoughts drift into far-off places. Well, she tried to, at least. To dream of a life different from her own, somewhere far away. Sadly, the rules of the patriarchy invaded even the deep recesses of her mind, and she found she had some trouble coming up with a scenario wherein she enjoyed the same degree of freedom and influence she currently had, and so her mind wandered instead to summer seasons, fresh fruit and sheep shearing.

She’d undone all her weaving for the day, and while she was tired of a long day of entertaining suitors and regular displays of piety and sorrow, she found she did not have it in herself to sleep. Her head was still all ache as the muscles of her neck reminded her she’d been peering at the weave too hard. Foolish thing, really. It’s not like she needed to do a good job. She could have written a swear in it and it would have been fine and unmade by morning. Oh well, no sense in regretting now. She watched her feet as they moved around in the water, sticking out one leg, then the other, watching the water drip-drip-drip back into the pool. Should she? Would she dare? She decided that she would, and soon Laertes was treated to a view he thought he’d never see again: that of a naked queen, lowering herself in the cool water.

Of course, he could not stay here now. Not with Penelope - beautiful, naked queen Penelope - in the pool with him. Why, there’d be talk. Not immediately, of course, but if he ever stepped out of line, those maids of hers would know just who to sing to like the pretty birds they were, and there’d be a reckoning. Laertes respected the queen immensely, and he knew full well the network of women on the island and how they schemed and kept the place in check. It was a world he was not privy to, and he was fine with that. He’d hate to be on its bad side, however, so he gently lowered his head beneath the water and began to make his way carefully back to where his clothes were.

Penelope was enjoying this little time to herself, allowing her thoughts to drift. She dove under for a moment, then submerged, letting the water run down her face and past her neck. She made for quite a pleasing sight, if I do say so myself. She rubbed her sore neck in an attempt to relieve the ache a little, but was only moderately successful. A gentle splash caught her attention, and she turned her head to see a pile of clothes on the rocks nearby, and Laertes himself in the pool, looking at her, naked as - well, as any other day no one required him to wear clothes. Well, this was quite the predicament.

“Please don’t scream,” the old king said quietly.

“I suppose I could hold it in,” Penelope responded with as much dignity as she could muster, lowering her entire body so only her head was visible. Of course, this may very well be moot. How much had he seen? She’d have to assume he’d seen everything, just to be safe. Well, this was going to be a problem.

“I’ll just be heading out then,” Laertes said as if he was going to market.

“If you must. There is plenty of room.”

The answer gave both of them pause as they stared at each other. For her part, Penelope wasn’t entirely sure why she didn’t just let him leave so she could have the pool to herself, but she’d said what she’d said and a queen did not go back on her words.

Laertes let go of his tunic and returned to the cool embrace of the pool.

“Thanks very much.”

“You’re most welcome, father.”

She made that movement again, rubbing her neck. Should he offer? I placed my hand on Penelope’s. Someone with a surer grip really should have a go, don’t you think? Usually, my advice fell on deaf ears, but it seems tonight was going to be an exception.

“Neck giving you trouble, is it?”

“A little.”

“All that weaving, no doubt.”

“Quite so. It is surprisingly strenuous on the body.”

“I could… That is to say…” Laertes had a sentence planned, but found he couldn’t quite get the whole thing together as he’d intended, instead stumbling over the easiest utterance like he were a boy of thirteen instead of a man well into the fullness of life.

“If you could…” Penelope replied, turning her back to him slightly.

Slowly, so as not to startle her, Laertes swam over, sitting down on the stones by the shore.

“Come here, then.”

Penelope did not like being ordered around. Her many years as ruler of the island had taken its toll on her will, and she found she now had quite a vast amount of it. Nevertheless…

“Alright.”

She sat down below Laertes, pinning up her hair again so it was out of the way. As she felt the rough hands on the back of her neck, she couldn’t hold back the shiver that ran down her spine. So long without another’s touch. She hadn’t quite realised it. Her own company had been enough, hadn’t it? Furtive touching in the night, trying to be quiet so she wouldn’t wake Eos, dutifully asleep nearby in case she needed anything.

Laertes for his part did his best not to get any funny ideas, for however much good that did. He hadn’t touched another so intimately since Anticlea died. Penelope’s slender neck felt warm under his hands.

“Bit of a knot here,” he commented, trying to keep any hint of desire from his voice. For one, he really liked her, and then the image of his wife’s fearful eyes still haunted him. He rubbed her neck and shoulders with purpose, feeling for knots and teasing them out, sometimes pushing down hard, causing a groan from Penelope he really shouldn’t think about for too long.

“Always wondered how this place managed to stay so calm, considering the mad house is just over there,” Laertes said in an attempt to diffuse some of the tension. Not that there was much tension left in her.

“I suppose limited access helps,” Penelope commented, managing to keep her voice level. Laertes had gotten all the knots he could find, but he had some difficulty proclaiming his task finished. Instead, he traced his thumbs down her neck and between her shoulders, moving out below her shoulder blades.

Penelope moaned.

I could go on for quite some time about all the moans I’ve ever heard, and I’ve certainly heard and made better ones than this one - truly deep, guttural moans that could shake the earth and mend all hurts - but I will say that Penelope’s had just that extra bit of zest from having been constrained for so long, a wild animal looking to escape its confines and finally - finally - finding its cage just open enough to risk it.

Now, Laertes may be on the older side and liked to pretend he was going deaf sometimes if he thought it would annoy whoever was trying to bore him with mundane conversation, but he felt that moan run all the way down his spine.

“Like that, did you?” he chuckled, then immediately regretted his tone.

“You’re very effective,” Penelope remarked, leaning into his hands.

She didn’t want him to stop. She knew this was a bad idea. She knew there would be consequences if anyone saw them here, but the pool was secluded and off-limits to anyone not allowed here by her, so perhaps…

I felt her desire to give in, to be unbound by duty for just a few moments. Do it, my love, I whispered in her ear, enjoy yourself. These times are rare.

Laertes shared her thoughts, understood the danger, then went ahead anyway. They both needed it, he felt. He wasn’t wrong.

Behind her, Penelope felt his body shift as he lowered himself to sit behind her, wrapping one arm around her waist and pulling her close, his other hand holding her upper arm in a grip that was firm yet not stifling. She felt his breath on her neck as he nuzzled it, taking in the smell of her, some floral scent barely lingering after a long day of being responsible and unapproachable.

“Gods, but you smell like a feast,” he murmured into her naked flesh, as one hand moved from her arm to her chest, claiming a breast left unattended. Penelope leaned back and let it happen. She trusted Laertes like she trusted Damon. She knew he’d never desert or betray her, that their bond was strong and long in the making. As his fingers moved from massaging her breast to tweaking her nipple, she groaned and pushed her body into his, and hoped her faith wasn’t misplaced.

Laertes felt her body react and he had to admit he was chuffed. Old man Laertes still had it, yes he did. I had to admit this made me giggle. I’ve always had a weakness for smart older men, though this is not what I will be remembered for. Yes, you do, I whispered in his ear, suggesting he guide his hand from her waist to somewhere lower down, now let’s see how well you remember your lessons. Surprisingly, he seemed eager to follow my suggestions. Well, well.

Penelope gasped as his hand slid down to her intimate region and began gently rubbing her.

“How’s that for you?” he asked, his voice gentle, but with an undercurrent of desire that had her flustered.

“It’s… I like it just fine,” she managed to reply, angling her body to meet his hand in a way that improved the entire process. Laertes, ever the scholar, took a mental note, and continued the way he was going.

“Suggestions are welcome,” he added in a soft tone as he moved his hand in tandem with the movements Penelope’s body had started making without any conscious effort on her part. The queen of Ithaca let herself drift on the river of her desire, and placed her hands on his, guiding him in her pleasure. There, please. Yes. Gods.

Laertes felt her shudder as her release came, and she leaned back, her face close to his. As she came down, he leaned in just a little and kissed her. He’d tried not to, he really had, but her lips were beautifully swollen with excitement and he just couldn’t contain himself. Her lips parted and their kiss was deep. He drank her in as she turned a little, moving her hand down to where she knew she’d find a handhold.

Laertes startled a bit when he felt her fingers on his erection. Penelope looked up at him.

“Suggestions are welcome.”

He had to stifle a laugh immediately. Of course she’d say that.

“Just don’t pull it like it needs to come off,” he chuckled.

“I suppose I could manage that.”

She started off slowly. He’d suggest a bit more speed. Also, remember the tip is the most sensitive part. Bit more pressure on the- yes, that’s it. Penelope for her part was a quick learner, but I expected nothing less. She soon found a rhythm that had Laertes leaning back, closing his eyes for a moment so he could focus on the feeling. He soon realised he had to intervene as Penelope was too good at what she was doing.

“Wait.”

Penelope looked up, awaiting further instructions. She’d overheard some interesting conversations between her maids about how certain men enjoyed it when they stuck a finger up their arse. If he was going to ask her for that, she really wasn’t sure she’d be able to comply. That didn’t seem to be what he was after, however, as he submersed his body into the water once again.

“Why don’t you have a seat, make yourself comfortable,” he suggested, nodding at his former perch. She hauled herself up and sat down, readying herself to rub his shoulders as Laertes took her place below, except he didn’t turn his back to her. Sitting on his knees facing her, he pushed her legs apart until her warm centre was right in front of him. This time, Penelope blushed in full view as he started kissing his way up her sensitive inner thigh, all the way to her sanctum, and she had to fight the urge to pull back. His arms had snaked their way underneath her legs and he now held each thigh as he looked up at her. It was often said that Odysseus had his mother’s eyes, but Penelope had to disagree. She’d seen her husband in this very position, and his father gave her the exact same look; a raw, intense thing, that stoked a fire within her she’d thought she’d lost. Knowing his intent, she leaned back and let him taste her.

“Good girl,” he growled as he started lapping at her sensitive clit. Ah, he’d missed this tangy flavour. Laertes pushed his tongue in-between her folds as he held her firmly in his arms, and he could see her back arch, feel her body’s need. One hand released a thigh and moved down to her folds, and Laertes slipped in a finger, moved it as if beckoning, gauging his effectiveness by the sound of her moans and the movement of her hips. Not quite so, but maybe… And an extra finger could… Yes, there it was!

Penelope was at a loss for words as his tongue and fingers were engaged in some form of expert dance with her body, and she found she had to cover her mouth quite vigorously, lest the inordinately loud moan half bordering on a scream wake the entire palace as she felt her desire hit a high she didn’t remember ever feeling before. Her body twitched as he kept licking her clit, and she moaned her continued desire, imprinting it into the very stones around the pool. Oh Aphrodite, help me, she prayed. I am, believe me. Let it wash over you. She wrapped her hands in his hair, holding his head in place. Yes, take your pleasure.

Eventually, Laertes figured enough was enough and moved away, releasing Penelope and letting her catch her breath. It took her a moment to sit up and compose herself. Her hair had come undone again and now fell in loose, chaotic strands around her face. His loins stirred at the sight and he found himself moving up as his face drew level with hers.

“Penelope,” he said, voice low and filled with a lust he’d not felt in an age, “I’ll leave right now if you want. Gods know it’ll be hard, but I will. I’ll be honest with you, though… If you don’t tell me to go, I will have you.”

His face was so close to hers, his body, while affected by age, still contained some of that physique that had gained him a place aboard the Argos, and Penelope was too far gone to say no. She didn’t want to. She wanted more, wanted to feel someone inside her again.

Her legs pulled him in, and Laertes wasted no time in putting word to deed as he slid into her in a smooth motion, helped immensely by the work he’d already put in. That being said, it had been much over a decade since Penelope had a man enter her, and she did need a moment to get used to an erection inside her. Laertes knew this, but the warmth of her made it difficult to contain himself. I placed a gentle hand upon Penelope. Relax, for you are in good hands. I promise it.

He could feel her relax and pushed himself in further until he was fully sheathed. By the gods, he had missed this. He started thrusting, slowly at first, wanting her to want this, to want him to keep doing this. Penelope grabbed him by the neck, pulled his head down and kissed him. Their tongues played with each other as his thrusts increased in power and speed.

“Laertes,” she breathed as she felt her body readying for another climax.

“I see you,” he said, adjusting angle and depth just a little bit. “Like this?”

“Gods, yes.”

He kept going, smothering her moans in a kiss as he felt her walls tighten around him. As the scent of her desire filled his nostrils and played merry games with his mind, I leaned in, whispering in his ear one final time. Let go, dear one. Unleash yourself. She deserves no less.

Gods, to have a man be so attuned to my instructions. It’s such a rare occurrence, I’d almost forgotten how great it was. He held her tight and began his work intently; a deep, intense fuck, meant to stretch, to fill, to breed. Penelope rode this wave like a true queen as Laertes absolutely demolished any semblance of reason she had left with the intensity of his thrusts, burying his face into the nape of her neck to stifle his grunts.

He lifted one of her legs for a better angle.

Yes, just like that.

His thrusts became quick and shallow as he felt his release come upon him. Deep, he had to go deep. He pounded her in earnest, holding her firmly in place as he came, filling her with short, deep thrusts, his breathing ragged as he tried to find himself somewhere within the rutting beast he’d just unleashed.

Penelope looked at him. Ah, there he was. She was certain he’d gone for a moment and left an animal of a man in his place. Not that she minded. What with all the preamble, she almost felt he was owed that much, at least. Laertes took a few deep breaths in an attempt to steady himself.

“That went places,” he finally managed to say in-between breaths.

“Quite,” Penelope managed to say. She found she was also a bit out of breath. Fancy that.

Laertes pulled out, though reluctantly, and looked apologetic. “Figured I was gonna pull out before anything came of it, but it seems the old meatsack had other plans.”

To his surprise, Penelope just shrugged. “I will make sure nothing comes of it.”

The old king nodded. Of course she would. Part of him felt sad about this, but it was for the best. Having a child with the son only to then have another one with the father, well, that might be cause for a kerfuffle.

He backed away as Penelope lowered herself into the stream and began washing herself, and he did the same. Couldn’t be found smelling of sex when he went back to his farm. Otonia would know in an instant. A nose like a bloodhound, that one.

“I don’t suppose this’ll be a regular thing, then?” he ventured, knowing the answer.

Penelope washed her face as she pondered how to word her reply. She looked up at the man who’d given her such sweet pleasure tonight, and found she actually regretted what she had to say, even if it was the best - and really only - option she had.

“I’m afraid not. There’d be… difficulties.”

He nodded. He knew this already, of course. They both did. Still, best to talk it out. Good way to avoid problems in the future.

“Just the once, then”

“Yes, just the once.”

#claire north #ithaca #house of odysseus #Laertes #Penelope #Penelope x Laertes #Scheming old man can get it #Also wanted Penelope to get some of that good loving #True queen deserves a break and a treat #aphrodite #sal posts a write #Songs of Penelope

0 notes

brownstonearmy · 3 years ago

Text

2021-07-10: Careful What You Wish For (Part 1)

Tuesday September 8 (morning, cloudless and still)

A few days after the Harvest Festival, the town is beginning to get back to some sense or normalcy amid a period of transition. Lawrence Stout's trial has been scheduled for next week, an event that Q (just Q today) has been keeping their eye on after serving court papers on him. Shepherd Dunwall has been ousted from his position as Mayor, and Spleenifer has similarly been forced to give up her appointed administrative position to make room for the new faces of Brownstone politics. Although one of her jobs may no longer be intact, her flock of ducks, goats, and other assorted animal companions have survived all that has has been thrown at them so far.

Now Norm... There's been a lot keeping Norm busy these days. Last night he was stationed at the local cemetery to keep watch on some of the graves after several graves were disinterred. Although he didn't see any actual grave robbings happen, he did see his share of dug-up graves. Six graves had been exhumed as of his shift, though one body was still left uncovered on the premises: Grumbus Huang, a human.

Of the five graves that are missing their residents, two are human, one is elven, one is halfling, and one is dwarven. There does not appear to be any sort of common factor between the missing deceased. All of the graves appear to have had someone digging them up except for one. That grave in particular looks like the digging force came from INSIDE the grave. Perhaps more worryingly, that grave belongs to the Yance Elbereth, the drug-trafficking peddler of antiquities Norm assassinated some time back.

Best not dwell on that realization, so let's see what's happening at SHART HQ. Dave has a list of work orders needing to be completed and lets the party choose one. There's an issue with the water from one of the town's wells getting befouled, a large animal carcass in need of moving, and what might be a sewage leak in the vault of the local bank. The party opts to remove the animal carcass, if only to get a better idea of if this creature might be what is digging the graves up.

The address is easy enough to find, but even easier to smell. A deceased adult rock worm looks like it was bludgeoned to death and ripped out of its burrow. A mostly-dried layer of poop cakes the immediate area, and there are bushes, trees, and even a building that has been destroyed. Norm reckons it looks like a tornado came through the area, but only touched down briefly. As for the building that was destroyed, it was a storehouse used by the Brownville Devil Boys gang to hold some of their illicit wares.

Since that carcass isn't going to move itself, the party sets to work attempting to relocate it via a SKILL CHALLENGE! Spleenifer tries a bit of animal handling to identify the areas that aren't good areas to attach a rope. Whether she failed or succeeded depends on your viewpoint, as she presses a part of the rock worm and causes a goodly amount of caustic bile to erupt from the worm's mouth. Q makes a medicine check to make sure the worm is actually dead and is reasonably confident that it is. Norm uses sleight of hand to rig up a secure hoist for the corpse. A few skill checks later, the corpse hefted into the wagon and Norm hauls it off for disposal.

As the rock worm leaves the premises, there's an indistinct voice from inside the hole vacated by the worm.

"Hello! How are you?" Spleenifer calls into the hole. The voice appears to belong to a woman explains that she is feeling quite weak and that she woke up in the dark some time ago. The woman explains that she threw herself off the bridge after leaving her young daughter on the steps of the orphanage. She would like some help getting out of this place so she can retrieve her baby.

Spleenifer tosses a rope down the hole, but the woman is too weak to climb it, so Spleenifer has to pull the rope up herself. Q keeps an eye out for potential traps, because this is definitely a situation that seems like it would kill a few characters early in a horror movie. As the woman reaches the surface, she looks like she should be dead. Her body is bloated and cut, her skin is bluish gray, and she's missing several patches of hair. The woman doesn't register as being undead to Spleenifer, and Q notices that the woman's wounds seem to be healing rapidly and the olive complexion is returning to the woman's features.

Once out of the hole, the woman thanks the party and heads off toward the orphanage. Q and Spleenifer follow a reasonable distance behind because clearly this is suspicious behavior. Norm arrives back at the scene just in time to see his companions sauntering down the road, so he also follows the action at an even reasonable-er distance.

Two tough-looking dudes are guarding the the front door to the orphanage as the lady approaches. Q takes a circuitous route to stealthily get close enough to overhear what's going down. The lady is pleading with the toughs to let her enter, but nobody goes in because of the boss's orders, it seems.

Q discreetly and silently attracts the woman's attention for a quick chat away from the tough guys. The woman's kid is named Hannah, and Q is already familiar with an orphan named Hannah because of the tiny otyugh called Stinky Calypso, and thus Q offers to try to sneak into the orphanage to find Hannah.

Meanwhile, Spleenifer walks as obviously as she can right up to the tough guys and asks to meet with Brother Clifton, the operator of the orphanage. "Brother Clifton called me here about a matter of a tentacle monster," she says. But the tough guys don't budge.

"He's tied up at the moment with meetings," is about all the information she was able to glean from them.

Q is absolutely NAILING their stealth rolls and is an undetectable force on the wind who is headed to Brother Clifton's quarters to assess the situation from another perspective. Books and papers are scattered on the floor of his quarters as though someone was recently ransacked only the documents in Brother Clifton's desk. Q finds a few things of note, though: a roster of all the individuals residing in the orphanage with the name "Curtis Hanover" circled, and a fancy-looking paper with wax seal addressed to Brother Clifton that looks like it should be part of a letter but appears to be blank.

Spleenifer is busy loitering near the tough guys while pretending to wait for Brother Clifton to get free from whatever meetings he's tied up in. From what she's able to overhear, the tough guys are having some sort of coded conversation but Spleenifer is reasonably certain they are expressing regret about having to be present for something that probably involves killing children.

Norm arrives on the scene, also ready to get in on this action. He recognizes the tough guys as having gang affiliations and that's all the information he needs to go on. He rounds the western corner of the orphanage and clambers on the roof, and he is able to overhear from the guard's Thieves Cant that there's at least two more gang members inside. The gang members inside the orphanage are apparently trying to do something with Brother Clifton and some kid. Norm leaps off the roof and does a non-lethal death strike to knock out both tough guys after a swan dive rolling into the ground with one dagger-wielding arm still outstretched.

Spleenifer enters the front door, while Q and Norm meet up and pick the lock to the back entrance to make sure no bad guys escape. Q pumps Norm up with a rousing (but whispered) speech about overcoming adversity to make sure Norm succeeds.

Once inside the rear hallway, Norm and Q are able to hear muffled sobbing coming from the children's quarters. It doesn't sound hysterical, so the duo press on toward the door at the end of the hall leading to the kitchen. Q presses their ear to the door and hears part of a conversation, but the only thing they can make out is Brother Clifton saying "I don't know who it is!"

Q cracks the door open like a ninja in the movies and sees Brother Clifton tied up in a chair while another tough guy is slapping him around. Just behind the door is another bad dude, but this guy has Hannah restrained and a knife at her throat.

"Where is Magnusson's kid?" the guy closest to Brother Clifton demands. It will be possibly the last thing he ever speaks, because this is the part where all the party members converge and the real action starts.

Norm sneaks past Q through the cracked door and sneak attacks the Brother Clifton's captor. The guy goes down like a sack of potatoes. Don't worry! The guy's just knocked out, not dead.

While this is happening, Q has whipped out the Didgeriboop and played the sleep song. It doesn't knock out Hannah's captor like they hoped, but both Hannah and Brother Clifton faint. And Hannah's fainting allowed her to slip momentarily from the captor's grasp.

Spleenifer bursts through the door on the opposite side of the kitchen and shouts "Save the children!" while almost tripping over a table just inside the door. But she takes one big step and now she's running on top of the weirdly-placed table and takes a flying leap at the guy who had a knife to Hannah's throat. In mid-air, she grapples the guy with her thighs, swings him around and bashes him into the fireplace.

After the bad guys are subdued, it's decided that now's a good time for an interrogation. The grappled guy is definitely ready to talk, especially with some thigh pressure applied to his skull. According to him, the guy who gave the order to run another operation was named Dion and operates out of a BCR warehouse. Norm recognizes Dion's name as belonging being a high-ranking member of the BCR. Perhaps even the second in command.

Norm excuses himself to check on the room with the muffled sobs to make sure all the kids are okay. As soon as he opens the door, Norm is hit with a pillowcase full of books and the group of four boys (aged 6, 7. 10, and 14, in case it ever comes up in the game again) shove past Norm and try to escape. But Norm is able to persuade them that he's one of the good guys and that they are here to rescue the kids from this assault.

Back in the kitchen, all the bad guys are rounded up, stripped of their gear, and tied up in the same gross rope used to haul the rock worm corpse away. Brother Clifton is roused from his slumber and asked why all this gang interest in Curtis Hanover is going on. He tells the party that Hjalmar Magnusson is a gang leader and someone by the name of Rooney was hoping to save Curtis from the predations of gang life by permanently polymorphing them. The BCR is targeting Curtis to get control over the Devil Boys gang.

The adventure concludes for the evening as the naked bundle of bad guys are dropped off in front of Silas's office with a signed note from Norm. But what happened with that weird kinda dead woman and her kid? Stay tuned next time for more!

#Dungeons and Dragons #shits and giggles #adventure log #orphanage #graverobber #hostage #hannah #stinky calypso #rock worm #rooney #curtis hanover

0 notes