"Hanging on by your fingertips from the window ledge of the bedroom of the royal princess of a country you'd never been to before last week." - Nick Oakden, aka storyprompt, 3 Jan 2010 on Twitter


Emryx sucked in a breath. His fingers clung to the window ledge as his feet kicked uselessly below him. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead. His eyes darted downward of their own accord. He cursed in the eladrin tongue and forced his eyes shut. The moat looked like a puddle from this distance.

Gritting his teeth, he focused ice blue eyes on the parapets a few feet above him. He slid his left hand forward, just slightly. His right fingers scrabbled on the ledge, and he immediately reverted to gripping the stone, dangling like a fool. A groan escaped him.

Shutting his eyes again, Emryx tried to mentally envision his spellbook. He imagined turning the pages, finding the section marked "cantrips." He searched the book for a spell to cushion falls, to levitate a human-sized object, anything.

Exasperated, he stared at the outer wall of the castle. "Idiot," he muttered. "This is what you get, Emryx. This is what you get for having your reputation." He felt his hands begin to sweat and tightened his grip on the ledge. "You couldn't just be that erudite eladrin wizard, could you? You couldn't just keep your nose in your spellbook."

His left hand slipped, and he clapped it to the rock, swearing violently. He jammed the toe of his boot into a crevice for stability, but it quickly skidded out. A few pebbles broke free and skittered down the wall to their demise. Emryx refused to watch them hit the moat. His long blonde hair clung to his damp skin. He resisted the urge to scratch.

Swallowing, he tried once more to reach a hand forward. His sweaty hands slid on the stone, and he resigned himself to hanging by his fingertips from the window. A sigh escaped him, and he glanced down. The jump was impossible, that he was certain.

A courageous tune, soft at first, then triumphantly loud, reached his ears. As if on cue, a hand reached through the window and grabbed his wrist. Humming loudly, Godot hauled him through the window one-handed and dumped him on the floor of the princess's bedroom. The half-elf bard finished her song triumphantly and crouched beside him, grinning. "Some hospitality they've got here. You okay, Emryx?"

With a sigh, the wizard sat up and massaged his wrist. "I'm fine. Thanks for the help."

The bard lightly punched his arm. "No problem, buddy. You're lucky I was able to talk these guys down. They were royally pissed at you." She brushed her short brown hair out of her face. "No pun intended."

Emryx cocked a brow. "Godot, can't you talk your way into - or out of - anything?"

Rolling her eyes, she stood and pulled him up. "I don't know, man. My own shit is one thing, but the messes you get into?"

"It's not like I told the guard to throw me out a window," he retorted, dusting off his robes. Still, he smiled. "Besides, if I wasn't getting into trouble, what would you have left to do?"

Godot laughed. "True, true," she conceded. "Seriously, though, can't you keep it in your pants? We've been here a week, and you've already almost caused a diplomatic incident."

Emryx let out an indignant sigh. "I swear, you have sex with one princess..."


This was written for my D&D group. Kevin, Emryx's player, had sex with a princess on our first quest, and we never let him live it down. Since he and I had established our characters as knowing each other prior to the game, I wrote this origin story for us, in which his princess-banging became a serial (but consensual!) thing.

Tell me what you think, and as always, thanks for reading.