Troy ducked for cover as crossbow bolts rained down from the roof. He tucked himself into the corner of a door, sheltering behind the lip of the entranceway. The crossfire being fired down the alley must have hit someone, because he heard a pained cry.
The volley died away and Troy did a quick glance at the alley. Zuberi was down, two bolts in his chest. Kharduom was peppered in bolts, the giant simply incapable of finding proper cover thanks to his size. He bellowed in rage and lashed at a cart with his chains, smashing the wooden frame into flinders. Gnuz had a bolt in his shoulder and had ducked into a doorway just like Troy. Lancer’s shield was raised and he was running towards Zuberi while the archers reloaded their crossbows.
The kobold in his METAL DRAGONBORN suit was struggling to control his machine. The bolts hadn’t managed to penetrate the full-plate but they’d clearly jarred loose a few wires or something. Only Kharduom and perhaps Gnuz were in any position to help. He could do two things: Fight his way out of the alley or clear the rooftop snipers.
He kissed his guns and stepped out, firing. D20’s were rolled as Troy flurried, fanning the hammer of Bahīma. Three of the snipers were struck, missing the fourth and fifth. From the roof, he could hear strangled cries as the men began to transform into lesser creatures-chickens and rats and squirrels.
There was a sharp cry from over Troy’s head and a man’s body nearly hit Troy as he fell to the ground, an axe in his skull. The axe disappeared, leaving the wound to spurt blood, and reappeared in Gnuz’ hand. The Gnoll gave Troy a thumbs up and hurled his axes.
Lancer reached the downed wizard and covered them both with his shield. He placed a hand on Zuberi and chanted something. Golden light glowed, and the half-orc blinked awake as he was enervated with positive energy.
Kharduom continued to get peppered with bolts, but that only made the half-giant more enraged, sweeping his chains and tossing several of their ambushers into the air. More bolts rained down on his position, forcing him to duck back into the alcove.
“Gnuz, two left over you.” Troy called.
“Got four left above you.” Gnuz said.
“Tell me when they reload!”
“Now!”
Troy whipped around the corner, crouching and fired the rest of his shots into the last two snipers above Gnuz. They screamed and squawked as bullets struck them in the face. Troy wasn’t sure how the bullets were supposed to work, but he was satisfied they went down.
Two more bodies dropped from the roof above him, axes stuck in their chests and faces. They were very dead. Troy hadn’t seen this much gore since he watched those cartel videos. If he didn’t know this was all a game, he may have vomited at how realistic the damage was.
Troy whirled and domed the last two with 'Ustura, not waiting for the effects to take hold. An arrow struck him high in the back, over his shoulder blade. It felt like someone had hit him with a two-by-four, the air whooshing out of his lungs. He stumbled as sharp pain welled up from his back and up into his arm. He dropped the beast gun, fingers unresponsive.
Behind him, Lancer had charged the crossbowmen and was in the middle of a melee as they whipped out swords and knives, dropping their crossbows to the ground. Troy couldn’t get a clear shot in. The last man standing was mowed down by three beads of pure force and flipped over the side of the wagon.
Kharduom was still whipping the corpses of the failed assassins in the cart at the far end, mulching them into bloody paste. Troy gingerly picked up his fallen gun with one arm and holstered them. Zuberi was wheezing, removing the bolt sin his chest. Tears were rolling down his face, his green complexion pale.
“You alright?” Troy asked.
“No, this shit fuckin’ hurts!” Zuberi said.
SORRY GUYS, LEFT THE PAIN ON HIGH FOR REALISM.
“Fuck realism, I didn’t sign up for this!” Greg growled angrily.
Lancer kneeled next to his and healed his wounds again.
“I’ve got two more heals then I’m out.” Lancer said, looking around. “Who’s hurt.”
“Kharduom.” Troy said before Gnuz could say anything. “I think it’s really bad. We’ll take healing potions.”
Lancer nodded and made his way over to the half-giant.
Troy had Gnuz help him pull out the bolt in his back and then he helped Gnuz. They chugged a healing position. Troy felt much better, but the muscle sin his shoulder had a tight soreness that hadn’t been there before.
“Dude, you have a cool scar now!” Gnuz pointed.
“Do I?” Troy glanced behind him but couldn’t see the skin.
“Yes.” Kharduom growled, gesturing at the star-like scars that now covered his own body. “Apparently the scars go away in a couple weeks.”
There was a scream from above them and a man toppled to the ground near Troy’s feet with a thud. Rashid stuck his head over the edge of the roof and smiled. Troy shook his head.
“The other roof looks like a damn barnyard, Troy.” Rashid joked, then paused, head jerking sharply down the alley and pointed. “We got a runner!”
“I’m on it!” Troy called back.
He started running towards the cart. A dice appeared over his, landing on a 19 for Acrobatics. Troy leapt over the the top of it, using it as a springboard. He grabbed the ledge of a nearby roof and pulled himself up.
Half a block ahead, he could see a young man with dark, tanned skin and short black hair legging it through the crowd. The man glanced behind him and spotted Troy running along the rooftops above him. With a casual flick of the wrist, the young man tossed a dagger at him. Troy tried to dodge it, but it nicked his cheek, drawing a line of blood.
“Shit!” Troy winced at the pain as he leapt from rooftop to rooftop.
He adjusted his guns, switching them from magic to pure damage. Sulpu had crafted the weapon so he could use it either way, depending on the situation. He could shoot, but Troy didn’t want to take the risk and have it hit an innocent bystander without him knowing.
The young man saw the weapon and began running in a zig-zag. Troy aimed and shot for the center of his back. The man dropped down a stairway, barely dodging the bullet. He heard a grunt when the man landed.
“Shit.” Troy spat. He holstered the Myth gun and reloaded the Beast gun, keeping it set to magic.
He was having trouble keeping up with the kid. The city was a sprawling labyrinth below him and the guy seemed to know every alleyway. Troy took a breath and kept calm, letting his character take control when he sighted the young man up ahead once more.
Troy slid to a stop, aimed, and fired in one smooth motion.
-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-==-
“Ack!” Ali cried, grabbing his arm.
He couldn’t check the wound yet as he needed to find somewhere to hide. His head started to itch. Ali glanced back at his pursuer and saw the light-skinned human grinning at him.
Ali realized he couldn’t let him get any more hits in. The others had quickly transformed into animals when they got shot. The gunslinger had some kind of silencing device on his pistols, so dodging his shots was difficult.
He continued to weave, ensuring there was something in between himself and the gunslinger so he couldn’t get a clean shot off. He heard a few bullets whistled past him and ricochet. Ali scratched his hair again, not noticing it turn white and spread down his neck. His body felt like he was losing muscle mass and his fingers felt thicker. Ali realized he needed to get rid of his pursuer as soon as possible and get to his healer.
Ali turned a corner, grasping his sword with fingers that were going strangely numb.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Troy followed the Crimson Corsair, watching the young man’s black hair turn white as the transformation took hold. He didn’t know how many bullets would be needed to turn someone if he only shot them in the arm. Would they end up an anthro?
He fired off a few shots and winced as the bullets went wide, one hitting a fisherman and the other hitting another adventurer. They slapped their thigh and chest, looking around for the insect that had stung them, unable to hear the silenced shots form such a long distance. Troy hoped he could transform them back later.
The young man turned a corner and Troy lost sight of him. Troy ran forward and saw the alleyway was a dead-end. He dropped down and readied his gun. It smelled of fish, barrels and crates stacked along the walls. Troy was about to step in further when he caught a flash of light out of the corner of his eye and blocked the falling sword stroke with his Myth pistol.
Sparks flew as both weapons hit each other. The young man stared as he saw his heavy scimitar being blocked by Troy’s gun barrel alone, not even a scratch on Troy’s weapon. Troy leapt back and fired twice at the young man’s stomach.
The young man deftly blocked the bullets with his sword.
“What the hell is that thing made of?!” The young man growled and swung his sword again with increasing vigor.
There wasn’t much room to maneuver out of the sword’s way. Troy used his quickened movement to avoid most of the slashes but not all of them. He’d need to thank Sulpu for the mithral armor as a few blows landed, leaving bruises but not cutting through the dense metal rings. Each impact still hurt, of course, but Troy knew it was only a matter of time before the Corsair became much more docile. Already, little horns were poking from his curly gray hair.
Troy waited for the Corsair to swing wide and ducked, then swept the young man’s legs. The Corsair’s shoes fell off when he hit the ground, revealing a rather dainty pair of hooves. Troy leveled his gun and attempted to shoot the soon-to-be-kid.
The young man rolled out of the way of the shot. He tried to grip his sword, but it looked like his fingers wouldn’t bend correctly. He dropped it and got on all fours and headbutted Troy.
Troy felt the wind get knocked out of him, the future goat hitting him hard. There was a natural 20 floating above the Corsair’s head. The young man’s face twitch and started shifting.
“I’m really off my game.” The young man spoke in a heavy accent, looking at himself as his clothes falling off of him. He looked back up at Troy, hate burning in his eyes. “You’re going to regret crossing the Crimson Corsairs!”
The young man hopped to the dead-end and climbed it with ease.
Troy watched the satyr-like man climb.
A few minutes had passed and somehow the guy was still relatively human. The others had changed straight away. Perhaps it was because he’d head and heart-shotted them? Killing blows must be equal to immediate shifting, whereas a graze on the arm meant a few minutes before transformation.
Troy decided to follow, wanting to know who the guy went to for help.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Ali finally managed to shake his tail…literally, a small furry white tail had erupted out of his spine and was waving merrily in the air behind him. He’d had a headache since he was struck with that bullet and it was getting worse. Now he was hungry too, and more than a little randy.
He ran towards a farm near the outskirts of town, set into a seaside cliff. The farm was terraced, the soil fertile. One of the few places on the edge of the desert that could grow anything. Most of the dairy and meat came from here. Ali booked it into the barn. There was a communication crystal hidden away somewhere in here, if he could get to it, he could warn LOTAN about the party of adventurers.
Ali finally found the correct stall-one of the goat pens. His tail brushed his swelling testes, making him squirm. Not much time left, he guessed. Ali checked outside, making sure he wasn’t being followed. He didn’t see Troy or his comrades anywhere in sight. The corsair breathed a sigh of relief.
A nanny goat in the stall bleated at him, turning to present herself, he labia winking, a clear fluid oozing from it. Ali wrinkled his nose, disgusted yet strangely aroused at the display, and searched through the hay for the crystal. He found it a moment later. He tried to activate it, but the itching and discomfort in his pants was getting annoying and arousing.
Ali pulled his pants down and took a look.
His penis was long and thin, like a pencil. Below them were a pair of heavy balls. Ali wrinkled his nose at the heavy musky stench that wafted up from his new genitalia. His legs were thin, heels stretched, ending in a pair of cloven hooves. Coarse gray hairs covered them both. He looked like a satyr-a very animalistic satyr, at that.
The nanny goat bleated and nuzzled at his legs, little pink tongue lapping at his balls. He pushed her away.
“This can’t be real, what’s happening to me…” Ali whispered, scratching his head. His fingers contacted something hard. He ran his hands over it, feeling the ridges of a horn. His other hand flew up and found a matching horn jutting from the other side of his head. “Shit, is there a mirror around here?”
Ali panicked until his eyes fell on the water trough. He peered into the water and saw himself in the reflection.
His face had changed, the pupils of his eye becoming square as he blinked down at himself. A pair of goat horns poked from his temple, slowly growing, his black hair blanched a gray-color. His short beard had grown, becoming wild and sage-like. Ali’s face stretched painlessly out in a muzzle as he watched.
His nails grew thicker and his fingers began to stick together, but he was so focused on his face that he didn’t notice. His nose was pink and wet, growing wider and more animalistic with each passing second as it pressed forward with the rest of his mouth. He used one of his blunted, numb fingers to probe the inside of his mouth as his teeth shifted into something flatter and more suited for eating roughage.
“This must be a bad dream. Any minute now, I’ll wake up…” Ali tried to rationalize the changes.
The worst part was how good and right it all felt. The nanny goat lipped and nibbled on his balls again and he bleated from surprise and the unexpected pleasure. He moaned as his balls seemed to swell under her tender licks.
She presented herself to him again and he could smell her need in the air. His weird, thin cock grew frighteningly erect, throbbing in the air as he stared at her winking femininity. The communication crystal fell from his numb hands as they fully shifted into hooves and rolled into the hay.
He should definitely warn the others. Ali bent to pick up the crystal and felt a pop in his spine that sent him crashing onto all fours. His nose practically plunged into the nanny goat’s clunge and suddenly all he could smell was her arousal. His thick tongue lapped out, tasting her sweet need.
There were more pops from his spine as it contracted. He shrunk, the fur spreading from his stomach and over his shoulders, where it became a shaggy gray mane. His chest barreled out, his insides churning as he grew four more stomachs.
He pissed himself involuntarily, the air filling with the cloying stench of a billy goat.
Ali found himself vaulting over the nanny goats back and shoving his aching member into her swollen goat cunt. He tried to stop himself from doing it, but his dwindling mind simply couldn’t comprehend not mounting a female in heat.
“S-so good…” Were the last words Ali spoke before his throat shifted and all he could do was bleat.
Memories of living on the farm and being hand-raised pushed out all other thoughts in his mind. He was safe here with his master, though he was often frustrated because he was separated from the females most of the time. Ali’s Crimson Corsair tattoo shifted into a pattern on his fur that represented the family crest of the farm’s owner.
The goat thrust into his mate over and over again. With a bleat, he came. Then he started thrusting again. Cumming over and over again.
His identity as Ali faded with each ejaculation until only a prized buck goat remained.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Troy walked into the barn and saw a buck goat eating some hay, the nanny goat next to him dribbling yellowish cum from her snatch. He grinned. For a moment he was terrified it would happen out in the crowded streets, but luckily it happened in the safety of this barn. He wondered what the Corsair was looking for.
He whistled and the goat trotted towards him bleating heavily. It stopped by Troy and rubbed against his legs. Troy noticed the same sign on the goat’s fur as he’d seen on the scales of the riding lizards. He pet the goat as it nuzzled him, bleating happily, as though it were a pet.
“Aww, you’re such a cutie!” Troy said, patting the goat on the side, then caught a whiff of his stench and wrinkled his nose. “But pee-yew! You stink.”
Handily defeating all your enemies, you adjacent to level 4
“That’s a little fast, we’ve only had one combat encounter.” Troy spoke to the sky.
I know, but you guys need to be level 4 to start the next part of the quest, so….
Troy’s body glowed and he felt himself change. A rush of power flowed through him as his skills became more refined, his body more limber. The light died away and Troy walked over to the water trough to check out the changes.
Nothing…really seemed to have changed all that much. His face had an air of confidence to it, perhaps, and his beard had grown out a bit more. His hair color had changed to a darker tone and his skin seemed more tan than before. But that could just be the sun.
He pulled himself away from his reflection and spotted something glinting on the ground in the hay. He bent over and picked it up. Some kind of round crystal. Was this what the corsair had been looking for? What was it doing in his barn?
Troy blinked. His barn?
He looked around, the barn seeming much more familiar. The markings on the goat and lizard matching with the sign over the house. As he watched, more and more animals appeared and plants grew around the entire farm, making the area more than capable of providing for the small city.
Memories filled his mind of living here. Being raised here in this small town from childhood. He loved animals. That’s part of why he first traveled the world-on a livestock tour, to see what other farms in distant lands had to offer. Troy inhaled, taking a deep breath, the smell of his barn so familiar and yet so distant.
Before he’d left, his father had presented him with two gifts. .
Bahīma, the Book of Beasts a weapon that helped control and create beasts from the animal kingdom. Wielding it gave him dominion over all natural creatures. It was his main weapon to defeat his enemies, exacting karmic justice upon them. It is said that a righteous man struck by a bullet would not shift into any animal, as his true form would be human.
Then there was Ustura, the Book of Myths, a powerful item that could contract with powerful being or even create a creature that threatened the gods. Handled correctly, it could solve any problem. Unfortunately striking his enemies with these bullets tended to merely make them harder to deal with as they transformed into various mythological creatures, so he saved this gun for when he needed to kill something, like one of the undead.
They had been passed to his father by his own father, items from the war of the Djinn that devastated their continent and left only scorching desert where once lush jungle grew. Tory had kept them safe while on his journey. On top of a distant mountain, he’d undertaken training to become a martial artist. He learned to dual-wield and hone his body in order to maximize his movement. During his journey, he’d met Lancer and they’d hit it off immediately. He was overjoyed when the Leonin had put in for a transfer to his home continent, eager to spend more time with him, perhaps…marrying him.
All the time he spent on his journey did nothing to prepare him when he learned the Crimson Corsairs had planted their roots in his homeland. Reports came to him from letters he read. They destroyed and terrified the common peoples, taking whatever was their want. Troy wanted to face them alone, but Lancer had talked him out of it. They got on board a ship and sailed for months to reach his hometown.
He arrived back home too late. His parents were murdered, strung up on lines above his home as a warning to those who dared cross the Crimson corsairs. Half of his animals had been slaughtered and taken. His brother, Vakar? Missing, presumed dead.
Tears rolled down Troy’s cheeks as he remembered feeling so infuriatingly helpless. Nothing he could do would bring them back. He had no money for a resurrection spell, and what priest would resurrect a 60 year old that wasn’t nobility?
But none of that was the worst thing they’d done. No, the gravest insult the Crimson Corsairs had offered was to use a mockery of the symbol of his family crest as theirs. They’d dishonored his family name.
Troy shook his head, the memories feeling so fresh in his head. He stared at the family crest over the gates on the farm. Most of the farm workers were waving at him as they set about doing their jobs. Nothing felt off as he waved back at them, knowing they were doing their best in these hard times.
“That’s not normal…” Troy stared at the farm. He shook his head, worried. The game was changing him to more closely fit into the game world even more than before!
Even his memories about how he met the others clashed with his real life memories as everyone had met with the goal of destroying the Crimson Corsairs long before they’d met the Golden Caliph. They were empowered by a great, new god that oversaw them. Troy thought it best to wait until he talked to Sulpu and Rashid about this whole thing before they did anything else.
Troy ran back to where he’d left the group, his mind slowly adapting to the streets that he’d traveled so often in the past. He decided to take a shortcut to meet the party.
They were milling around the street. A few people were getting the animals off of their roofs. They waved at Troy and chuckled.
“Looks like your animals got loose, sir!” A bearded shopkeeper said.
“I guess so.” Troy swallowed.
Rashid watched the interaction carefully. No one else in the party reacted, not even Sulpu, although that was likely because he was busy fiddling with METAL DRAGONBORN. That’s when Troy noticed the bodies had disappeared.
“He took care of them, turned them into pottery.” Rashid whispered.
Troy jumped, not having noticed the otter creep up on him.
“Ya scared me, dud, by the gods.” Troy clutched his chest.
“I do that from time to time. Just thought you should know that one guy on the roof was reading something before I gutted him.” Rashid pointed to the piece of parchment clutched in the downed man’s hands.
Troy picked it up and read it.
Deal with the seven. Return to the mouth.-Rowan
“’The mouth’. Troy muttered. “What does that mean?”
“There’s a big stone cliff near the entrance of the harbor that looks like a head.” Zuberi said. “I saw it when we entered the harbor.”
“Was there an opening?” Lancer asked. “Something big enough for a rowboat to enter?”
“Not that I saw.” Zuberi shrugged. “But my Perception is bad.”
“Right, well, they’d also need an entrance near the cliff.” Jeremiah boomed. “Every good hideout needs an escape route. Plus a way to carry wagon-loads of cargo from the sea cave, if there is one, to the town.”
“Wanna go now?” Troy asked.
“Yes.” a staticky voice said behind them.
They turned. METAL DRAGONBORN had finally resumed operations, it seemed.
“Sorry, wasn’t thinking about providing proper cushioning in case of repeated heavy blows.“ Sulpu said. “I need an few hours to fix it and we should be good to go.”
“Great. I’m going on auto while we take a short rest.” Troy nodded. “Sassy Orangutan.”
The sounds of the world faded away.