Dungeons and Dicks Ch. 03

I had arrived to find that Mark and I had both worn our identical Comicon shirts from two years ago. Geri had made him go change his because both our wives said we looked like the Bobbsey Twins.

The bell rang, and we all greeted a visibly nervous Martin and Penny. He definitely looked like the old guy, dressed in slacks and a purple golf shirt, and he knew it immediately when we saw me in my Comicon shirt, and Mark in the Clobbering' Time! Shirt he had changed into. Martin's embarrassment was tempered by his distraction at encountering Geri and Tess as they had chosen to dress, and his efforts to hide that distraction. His utterly boring outfit was a distant third among his concerns. It is amazing how clothes that cover 1000% more skin often seem sexier than a normal bathing suit.

Penny was a doll, and had at least done a nod to the D&D nature of our evening. She had on tight capri pants in yellow, and an Elric of Melnibone printed black tee. Hers was more or less loosely fitted, and she almost certainly did have a bra on underneath.

They had of course brought food. It looked fine and smelled good, but culinary offerings were not going to be a strength on their part, I projected.

We sat down in our hosts' living room to get our noobs set to play. Obviously, we were in the middle of a campaign, so they would need to create characters who were already fairly experienced. It's fun but kind on unfulfilling, making up characters who already have lots of levels and gear. But we have always played a story first, game mechanics should just follow along, sort of game.

Martin chose to create a mage, like Tess's Shanora, but whose powers focused more on mental powers and divinations, rather than the elemental destructive energies that the sorceress wielded. He had wanted to make the character's chief trait be centered on being the old guy, with wisened hands and leathery face. I entirely failed to explain to him why I insisted on talking him out of that, but I succeeded. Martin made his character a half-ent instead, which I allowed because it was a pretty rad idea, even though it sure as hell was not in the rules and we both had no idea what it should mean. Mostly, I rolled with idea because our new players needed to know that I'll let a player try almost anything. They may die quick because of it, but they can try.

Penny created a bard. Bards are often dismissively considered to be a useless class to play, but since they are also often played as quite randy, I allowed her to go that way. Also, Penny quickly recognized that in the rule set we used, bards were not in fact totally useless.

She had no idea how useful a bard might be, given our complete rule set.

The whole process took less time than I had anticipated. Both of them knew their baseline RPG shit cold, so I had almost no work to do to get them up to speed on the mechanics. They would run into some confusion here or there, but that would be fun, not a pain in the ass.

We were just sitting around, shooting the breeze as we waited for Anne and Craig, who had texted us that they were running late.

"So what's it like, teaching seven-year-olds to break boards all day?" Martin asked Mark curiously.

"Ha! I mostly teach seven-year-olds how to fall down safely, how to stand up straight, how to concentrate, and how to shout, 'Yes Sensei!' Precious few boards are harmed in the making of a martial arts child," Mark replied.

"Sounds like you'd make a good dad some day," Penny laughed. "When we get around to it, we will send our kids to you for obedience training!"

I had actually seen Mark demolishing cinder blocks at an exhibition he did once. That had been the day that I had categorized Never Genuinely Piss Off Mark as one of my major life priorities.

The bell rang, and our stragglers let themselves in. Craig salvaged Martin's pride by, as usual, also dressing more for the golf course than the dungeon. Anne was... Anne. She wore black yoga pants and a loose Star Fleet tee that she had converted to a tank top with a pair of scissors. The looseness of the top seemed almost demure for Anne... until close and extended examination started to reveal some infrequent flashes of spectacular side-boob.

Adding two more players made for a cozy fit around the big table in the great room that was our center of activity. No one minded that. And the room itself was quite large, with plenty of space and plenty of other furniture. Everyone was quite comfortable.

To start off, I engineered the meeting between Martin's mage Ash and Penny's bard Melodea and the rest of the main party inside a small, tower-type dungeon, and they had a good hour of straight, vanilla D&D to get to know how everybody played, and how our game system usually worked. I even wet their toes in the more role-play heavy elements, such as having them each Present how their character looked. We voluntold Mark to do it for them first, so they could see how it was meant to be done. He's the most hesitant among us to "perform", whether naughtily or not, so I figured it was good for him.

Martin wove a pretty good description of whatever the fuck a half-ent was supposed to look and act like, especially since he was making it up on the fly. When he mentioned his skin being like 'hard, polished wood' for the second time, Craig interrupted with a "That's what she said," that almost derailed the Presentation entirely.

Penny's Presentation was cute and funny. Her only problem was that she seemed to feel that she had to be on her 'best behavior', and she several times obviously steered herself away from any saucy elements in the description.

Tess winked at me. She was having none of that. They deserved a few minor embarrassments to ease them in before I did my thing. "Penny, bards are usually a bit more, um, free-spirited. By this level, has Melodea successfully used her charms to get through any adventures?"

Penny hesitated, but saw only smiling curiosity among all of us, and shrugged. "Sure," she said with a smile. "It's, um, in the tool set!"

"Has she experienced any 'hard, polished wood' with her adventure partner?" Anne asked slyly.

"Ah, no," Martin put in quickly. "Uh, it would have been unprofessional, correct?" he asked Penny.

"Oh, yeah," Penny said hastily. "I mean, also... splinters. Am I right?" All four women laughed.

I shot a quick loot at Martin. As I suspected, he was nervous because of his abortive... pass, or whatever you might have called it, at Tess and me. I caught his eye and winked reassuringly. He relaxed enough to deny any splinters, and we moved on.

I surveyed my long-term friends, and it was clear that Penny and Martin were being accepted. It was also clear that our group had grown fairly spoiled by extravagantly racy content, and were impatient this evening to see where it went. I let them finish off the tower, and return to town.

I had taken the unusual, and not quite according to The Rules, step of coordinating an encounter in advance with Anne...

*

"Hey Anne," I had said over the telephone.

"What's up John? Are our noobs still good to go Saturday?" she had replied easily.

"Yes. I've been thinking about how to best blow their minds, and I've got an idea," I said, finding myself suddenly hesitant.

"Ooh. I'm in. What is it?" she asked immediately, the trooper.

"Well, I'd like to..." I hesitated, then laughed, unable to keep the nervousness out of my voice. "You know," I confessed, "I never try to coordinate ahead. It messes up the spontaneity, and honestly kind of feels like it should be against The Rules. But I need to this time. And it involves you... and me... and Penny. And, um..." I really was not getting any better.

"And you are finding it hard to say, 'Hey Anne, I'm planning on having you suck my dick Saturday, let's talk about what I want to accomplish with that?'" she laughed in that earthy chuckle of hers.

I could not help but laugh. Anne was awesome. "Yeah, I guess," I admitted sheepishly.

"Remember, Mr. I Thought of This in the First Place, you actually want Gala to blow some rando, not me to suck you. But I am more intrigued about the Penny angle. I can't wait to see their faces. They are going to just die..."

*

After the tower, the new, larger party, returned to the City of Yesterton, where they had been settling in over the last few adventures.

"We usually have some fun in the town, letting characters run some individual errands, or set up longer-term arcs that the player would like to try," I explained to Martin and Penny. "If you have ideas, pipe up. Anybody?" I asked the group as a whole.

While they chattered amongst themselves, I considered Penny. I fully intended to have some for of sex with her at some point in the very near future. At least, I certainly intended to give it a go. Did that feel creepy? Fuck yes. It was why I had chosen myself to break the ice. I didn't wish the responsibility on anyone else. I'd chosen Anne to help because it had become very apparent over the time we'd been LARPing that she was the most sexually self-confident of us all.

My doubts has given rise to my last text to the group earlier.

ME: I know I don't need to say this, except to help us all remember consciously that while we know their adventurous backgrounds, they don't know ours, and people are all different. We are offering INVITATIONS tonight, not EXPECTATIONS. Right?

There was a rush of thumbs ups and hearts.

ME: Good. Help me make sure it doesn't get weird

GERI: I for one HOPE it gets weird.

ME: Not Bad Weird...

Mark had decided that something Tess had talked about two weeks ago could only be obtained by theft, and he was the man for the job. I walked him through a pretty simple caper and he obtained not one but two of the required scrolls. When Renault handed them over to Shanora, I had to do some fancy footwork to keep her thanks from getting out of hand and letting the cat out of the bag prematurely. Tess and Mark still mimed a kiss on the lips from five feet away, and that got an eyebrow from Penny. I messed how Martin reacted.

Before anyone else got any bright and dirty ideas, Anne leaned forward. "Penny, does Melodia know any hymns to Our Lady Greya, the Goddess of Love?"

That kind of question was not par for the course in many campaigns, and it caught Penny off guard. She looked at me, "Do I?"

"Mostly, it's up to you," I shrugged. "If it is just a song, not a Chant of Power, then at her level, I'd that say Melodia knows whatever the hell you want her to. If you want to have her possess a game mechanism-significant hymn or chant, roll a Charisma Check and a Lore Check."

"Huh. Cool," Penny said, half to herself. "Well, of course, I know a whole catalog of love songs, all of which effectively dedicate to... Greya is it?"

"You don't know, Melodia knows," I corrected, figuring now to be a spectacularly important time to reinforce that distinction.

"Oh yeah, the Role Play Rule," Penny nodded, remembering my careful explanation of how we talked and thought during the game. Both she and Martin had embraced the idea as seeming intense... "Melodia knows all the love songs. But she also does know a few specific to the goddess. Let's see if she knows anything powerful..." She rolled the two dice, comparing them to her Charisma and Lore.

She failed both.

"I know many ditties and even a few hymns that should be beloved of Your Lady," Penny said in the sing-song voice she was trying to get down pat for Melodia, "but I fear I know no hymns of the higher order."

"It will do," Gala said firmly. "I would much appreciate your help, nevertheless. Will you come with me?"

"Sure," Penny chirped, then remembered to change her voice. "I would be glad. How can I assist you?"

"I intend to seek an audience with the local Baron," Gala said. "I wish to petition him to support the establishment of a new shrine in the city to Greya. Such a shrine would attract many followers and pilgrims, many of whom would be useful in protecting and refurbishing the Temple we recently re-consecrated nearby." Her voice dropped back to Anne's. "I'm also betting that he," she jerked her thumb in my direction, "will give me a crapload of experience and other goodies if I manage something cool like that."

I just looked angelic and bland. Penny sniggered at my silence.

"Plus, it'll be a fun bit of role-playing," Anne added cheerily. "Gala and Melodia make enquiries about the local lord," Anne went on to me.

I tapped my teeth as if I had not thought all this out in advance.

"Okay," I said, leaning forward, as if coming to a decision. "I can do something with this." I looked at Anne, "Gala is able to determine that the lord of the city is Baron Charles, son of the late, um, Baron Charles." I shut up and looked at them.

"And?" Anne said impatiently.

"That's about it, for Gala," I said smugly. "Now, Melodia, on the other hand, buys a few drinks, sings few songs, winks at a few guys and learns a lot more."

Penny smirked at Anne. She was getting in the swing of things. Martin laughed a little, and so did Mark and Geri.

"Baron Charles is young. His father hung on against a wasting disease until the son turned eighteen and then died soon after the boy's birthday. It avoided a... whatever the hell you call a regency for a minor lord. The new baron only managed to return from his fostering at the ducal court a few weeks before his father's passing. A few people who might have reason to know, think that the new baron is smart enough to be successful, despite his youth. The finer sort of people only say he is considered fair in appearance indeed."

Anne looked at me, then looked at Penny. "Useful already," she murmured to no one in particular. She then spoke directly to Penny. "That was a lot of words. It means that he's going to make it hard for us."

Craig snorted at his wife's choice of words. Anne elbowed him. Martin looked blankly at their byplay.

"Your hare-brained schemes often make it hard for me, Anne," I said blandly in reply.

Both Penny and Martin looked like they were resigned to being left out of the inside jokes for a while.

Everybody else at least chuckled.

"You approach the gate of the city's castle. To be honest, it's not the most impressive edifice you've ever seen, but it is well-maintained. A bored-looking guard stands post. He gives the two of you high-charisma women a look that is simultaneously bored, and a little lascivious.

"Oooh, 'lascivious'," Penny said. "I might have to bard-up."

"Sergeant! Please inform your lord that we seek an audience with him," Gala said in her lilting-est of voices.

"The guard looks at you, chewing. 'And 'ooo are you when yer at home, 'eh?' he asks with bare civility. 'An it's corporal, not sergeant.'"

Gala looked affronted. "I am the priestess Gala, and this is my..."

"And 'oo is Gala when she is at..." the corporal sneered again, before being interrupted in turn by Melodia.

"Have you not heard of the great adventuress Gala?" she said breathlessly. "She who is servant to both the great God of the Hunt Ferdith (Feyrth? Sorry.) Feyrth, and his sister/bride Greya, the Goddess of Love herself? She and her companions hast laid low many enemies of the baron and of his people in the wild lands upon his borders. Enemies that you personally, Corporal, will not now be asked to risk your own life against. Must I sing you one of the various lays I myself have composed of her deeds, and those of her companions?" Melodia demanded.

Penny looked at me pleadingly. "Please don't make me sing a song about Gala. I don't have one made up yet, and I'll just sound like an idiot."

I looked at her, a little stunned and momentarily derailed. "You have made up actual in-game songs for your bard characters in the past?"

"Yeah. It's fun, and I can usually get people to do what I want if I agree not to sing them," she said with a grin. "But that needs some time. I need more than like five minutes of background on everybody."

"You have no idea of the experience points I will shower you with if you make up a song about Renault that makes Mark blush," I said in all earnestness.

"Hey!" Mark objected. I ignored him.

"But not now?" Penny said. I swear she batted her eyelashes at me. I'd never had a woman literally bat her eyelashes at me before. Here's a tip. It's quite effective when she is as cute as Penny. Not that I was going to push that idea right now anyway.

I just grinned at her. "The guard snorts, but it seems like he actually might have heard something about Gala at that. You guys have been accomplishing a lot and hauling in a lot of treasure. The corporal whistles up a private and sends him off to the baron's side. He might have taken the opportunity to go himself, but he seems to prefer just standing here and looking at the two of you instead."

Anne smirked at me. Penny took her cue from Anne.

"The private returns in almost comic haste. He skids to a stop beside the surprised corporal, who looks like he's never seen this fat, layabout private run anywhere in his life. 'His lordship demands that they be brought to him at once. I mean, I am to lead them to him at once!' In mere minutes, you have been shown into the private audience chamber of Baron Charles."

I popped up to my feet and moved smoothly over to sit proudly in one of the high wing backed chairs that Geri had gotten stuck with, er, inherited from her late aunt. It was the most throne-like seat in the living room. "The chamber is... a room. Unimpressive, just like the castle itself. The seat is magnificent only in relation to every other stick of furniture you saw in the castle on the way in," I said in my epic narrator voice. "The baron himself is a bit more impressive. In fact, he's a lot more impressive. Yes, he is definitely only 18, and that not by much, but he is tall, blonde, straight-toothed, fair-skinned, and has the kind of outstanding body that in this era only comes from exceptionally nutritious diet and continuous martial exercise. In other words, he's a real specimen, ladies." I smiled. "And he is bouncing around on his chair like a 12-year-old in the back seat on the way to Disney World."

"Holy One," the baron said effusively. "I have heard so much of you and your companions, and your mighty deeds. Your service to the kingdom, the duchy, and my humble barony leave all in your debt. Ah..." he paused, looking at Melodia uncertainly.

"My lord, do you not recognize the great bard, Melodia? You have most certainly heard many songs she has written," Gala said, almost sternly. "Has she not sung and taught in person at your court? If not, it is the fault of your castellan and you should chastise him. I am fortunate that Melodia and the tree-mage Ash have recently joined our fellowship."

The baron looked for a moment as if he was going to instantly summon the castellan and book Melodia for an extended residency, but he stopped at the last moment. "I shall rectify the omission at the earliest possible moment." He looked around hopefully. "I don't suppose your party here today would include... Sir Tyrian himself?" His voice was almost a whisper at the knight's name.

"I fear not, m'lord," Gala said with a hint of amusement. "Our mighty Tyrian is as we speak in solemn meditation in anticipation of taking holy vows as a True Paladin of Our Lady of Love!"

"In actually fact," Craig interrupted. "Tyrian is throwing back beers and pinching barmaid asses at the Golden Dragon... which seems appropriate no that I think about it."

Martin laughed. "Nice!"

"I do want him to change to paladin, which isn't strictly according to Hoyle, in this rule set or regular D&D," Craig went on to Martin. "If Gala gets her shrine, maybe we can browbeat the troll in the chair over there to let me do it."