<div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Starting Status</div><div class="spoiler_body"><em>The treasure room is filled with thick red smoke that makes it difficult to see anything more than a foot away from you.  There are three points of light that shine for visual points; Abigail’s armor/Hatch (enchanted by Enniya/Hatch glows), the tall croc (victim of faerie fire, +1 to hit him), and Saltbeard’s Beard (burning fire on his face).  Apart from that, it’s difficult to get to anyone who isn’t currently actively with you for PCs and NPCs (requiring a Defy Danger of some kind)!<br/><strong>Fugue, and Len:</strong> Facing off against four crocs (a tall one with a club (victim of faerie fire, +1 to hit him), thick ridges and claws, hefty with a scimitar and pale red with a scimitar).  Len is currently grabbed from behind by one of the crocs.<br/><strong>Claire:</strong> Facing Maclah the Grey, Champion of the Wastes, Tooth of Anarchy and his big axe!  She has the high ground!<br/><strong>Enniya:</strong> Standing in the entrance of the cavern, facing a choice of going back into croc arms or escaping.<br/><strong>Abigail and Priscilla: </strong> Abigail is crossing blades with Captain Saltbeard who holds Priscilla as his captive!<br/></em></div></div><br/>Oh, Delvers, it seems to be going poorly for our dear Len and Fugue!  Off in the fog alone with four crocs to the two of them and things truly heating up.  As they begin to take the advantage, one of them crows out cheerfully, “Got a couple of them right over here!  Who wants a taste?”  His claw grabs onto the front of Len’s pants where he has her held and with a clawed thumb shreds the front of them.  His enormous, muscular body presses against her back and he wrestles with her, adjusting her position as growls of need emerge from him.<br/><br/>Then she makes her strike, the protrustion slamming into the croc’s stomach hard.  He lets out a grunt and tightens his grip, hand on her chest squeezing her tit.  “Not gonna get out so quickly,” he murmers out against the side of her face.  He gives another pull of her pants and rips them down.  Immediately the fat head of his cock is pressed between her asscheeks, shoving into her without hesitation, only her metamorphic body making her at all ready for a rutting of this size.  His head leans back as he pushes her down, his hips beginning to thump hard against her butt as his dick fills her.<br/><br/>Nearby, Fugue is fairing little better as the red-scaled croc gets a firm hold of the back of her head.  A groan of pleasure comes from him as he begins to fuck her face, slamming his hips forward and shoving the thick cock into her throat.  “Keep you myself?” he chortles out as he presses her hard, thrusting and grunting.  Her mouth fills with the taste of his dick and the promised cum as he ruts, especially as she begins to serve him more directly.<br/><br/>Every movement from her brings sounds of pleasure, the taste of seed on the verge of exploding filling her senses, the heady taste getting into her nose and nearly overpowering her.  He strokes his thick clawed hand through her hair moments before she applies her wrists and gives him an extremely bad touch.  The croc pulls back, snarling in pain as he cums, an enormous splatter of thick, goopy white seed blasting onto Fugue’s face as he tries to pull his cock from her.  She stands up painted, cum dribbling from her mouth and giving her a pearly mask.<br/><br/>The croc stumbles back, holding onto his crotch as he snarls out, “Damn!  You cold bitch!  Gonna keep you for the whole crew now!”  However, it doesn’t look like he’s honestly going to do anything soon.<br/><br/>But his glowing friend and the hefty croc coming out of the mist towards his yelps and shouts of pain might.<br/><br/><hr/><br/>As Maclah the Grey hurtles up the hill, snarling and shouting, he hears the sound of shifting coins.  A dark grin comes to his face and he hurls himself to the side quickly in the direction that he believes Claire has turned!  But alas for him, her movements and steps are quick enough that he simply barrels past.  His great face twists in rage as he searches in the fog and darkness, “I’ll find you yet… I’ll…”<br/><br/>Claire’s steps are quick, even on uneven standing and in practically full darkness, each movement bringing her smoothly into a position of higher control and stable footing.  You don’t walk among the rigging for years without learning to stand on simpler land, after all.  She backs away and then draws closer, catching sight of Maclah as he still glares out into the darkness, hoping to find her but finding nothing.  Then her foot steps down onto something slightly squishier, the ridged scales of a croc’s tail under her step causing a grunt of surprise as it turns.  The croc sees where she is, of course, but Maclah is for now partially distracted!<br/><br/><hr/><br/>As Enniya pleads and begs with Laman, we get a shot of the patron herself in her realm.  She watches through a mirror upon the wall, one long graceful leg propped over the arm of a beautifully ornate golden throne.  “I’m not flip-flopping on you dear,” she purrs out as she watches the combat moving, “I’ve already guaranteed the safety of the ones we need.  This is for a greater good, pet.”  As she whispers this in her far away realm, Enniya can practically feel the words against her ear.<br/><br/>The patron leans her head back with a dramatic sigh, tapping long fingernails on the arm of her throne as her tail flicks about her head.  “Fine.  You wish to put it to sleep?” she mutters to herself before snapping fingers on her other hand.<br/>Back with the Delvers, a tiny velvet bag appears in Enniya’s hand and flicks forward.  The croc’s face is mere inches from hers when the bag hits his snout exploding dust over both Enniya and her attacker.  A cough wracks through him for a moment and when his face rises, he appears for the moment befuddled.  His stance shifts, aggression lowering as one hand moves down to his crotch, rubbing along the massive croc-cock pointed at Enniya.<br/><br/>Enniya as well feels the effects, the warm buzzing of alcohol and want, heat moving through her body with each little breath of the fog.  Sexual desire builds up in her as the heat grows, becoming hot enough that a faint sweat begins and an audible gasp comes from her.<br/><br/>“You want him to sleep?  Put him to sleep yourself.”<br/><br/><hr/><br/><hr/>The clash of sword and axe is strongest as Saltbeard and Abigail trade blows.  The pirate king growls in rage as Abigail is healed of his previous strike to her, “No magics will save you wenches!”  He continues to circle, snarling with hatred as his blade moves in slow, snake-like movements.  A brow raises and he spits out, “Pay for it?  I’ve already bought both of you.  This ends on your knees.”<br/><br/>He lets out a snarl of rage and screams bloody murder as he charges forward, swinging his blade.  He twists his weight to the side for a blow that never comes and catches the shot of the hook shot in the chest.  A grunt of expelled air comes from him as he stumbles, nearly losing his footing before he pushes forward again.  The hook pulled through his back seems to have effected him, not just for Abigail being able to pull his movements but also in terms of his level of strength.  As she pulls it to the side, he grunts again, the blade falling from his hands.  He stumbles to her, hands grabbing onto her armor, pulling the front of her top down to reveal quite a bit more breast.<br/><br/>His mouth works several times as he pulls himself back upright, “You'll not defeat the dead so easily, little miss.”  Saltbeard’s eyes shine with hatred as he pulls himself back up, the hook still through him and his body face to face with Abigail’s.  The fury of his burning beard begins to stick as he leans forward on her, “There’s no runnin- no runn-”  Pain shoots through her as his face falls forward onto her neck and chest, the ghost flames harming her without leaving a mark on her skin.  His knees shake and he begins to slump, his beard losing it’s flame as his face rubs into her cleavage before he stops with Hatch against his neck.  Breathing deeply a couple of times he grunts out.  “Yes, yes, you… I’ll stop them.  I’ll call them off.”<br/><br/>Saltbeard’s eyes look to Priscilla and then back up at Abigail as he attempts to get over his pride.  His eyes close and he leans his weight on Abigail, clearly unable to fight any further but wanting to keep his neck off of Hatch.  His voice sounds weak in every manner but volume, a hissed whisper that fills the room, “Call it off boys.  Let them be.  They’ve won.”<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Around the room, the troops slow.  Maclah throws down his axe with a rageful snarl, the crocs surrounding Fugue holds up empty claws.<br/><br/>Unfortunately, not all of the crocs are fully in their right minds.  The one ass-fucking Len doesn’t stop, instead staring into the distance of his captain’s call and grabs onto her hips harder.  He thrusts firmers, hard, slapping against her as his enormous dick fills her backside.<br/><br/>Likewise, the croc effected by Laman’s Dust is dazed, but staring at Enniya licking his chops.<br/><br/><strong>Delvers!  The battle is all but won!<br/>Fugue, Claire, Priscilla, and Abigail!  You’re no longer threatened!<br/>Len, you’re still being absolutely railed by croc-cock!<br/>Enniya, the dust that Laman provided for you is a fickle one.  Here’s how it goes:</strong><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Laman’s Dust</div><div class="spoiler_body">When you throw Laman’s Dust into the face of an opponent, the GM will tell you who was hit by the cloud.  Anyone in the cloud will take -1 ongoing to tasks unrelated to getting sexual gratification for a little while and feel entirely too hot and bothered.   Roll + Con.  On a hit, you can push down the need for now.  On a 7-9 choose, the dust stays in your system until you get some OR you don’t remove your clothes immediately.  On a 6-, your lust takes over and you attempt to fuck whoever is closest.</div></div><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Ending Status</div><div class="spoiler_body"><em>The treasure room is filled with thick red smoke that makes it difficult to see anything more than a foot away from you.  There are three points of light that shine for visual points; Abigail’s armor/Hatch (enchanted by Enniya/Hatch glows), the tall croc (victim of faerie fire, +1 to hit him), and Saltbeard’s Beard (burning fire on his face).  Apart from that, it’s difficult to get to anyone who isn’t currently actively with you for PCs and NPCs (requiring a Defy Danger of some kind)!<br/><strong>Fugue</strong>: Your face is covered in cum, but you’ve got three crocs standing awaiting orders. <br/>A tall one with a club (victim of faerie fire, +1 to hit him), thick ridges and claws, hefty with a scimitar and an unarmed and badly hurt red one.  <br/><strong>Len</strong> is currently being ass-fucked by one of them!<br/><strong>Claire:</strong> Currently standing by, but otherwise in control of Maclah the Grey, Champion of the Wastes, Tooth of Anarchy, his big axe, and another croc.<br/><strong>Enniya:</strong> In a puff of Laman’s Dust that may just drive her crazy with lust.<br/><strong>Abigail and Priscilla: </strong> You’ve captured Saltbeard.  Well done, Delvers!<br/></em></div></div><br/><strong>Delvers, what do you do?</strong><br/>