Charlie panted, the black furred anthropomorphic wolf hiding behind a chimney to catch his breath.
Overhead, the moonless night sky twinkled with stars. Around him, thick windows flickered with dim candlelight and the occasional glow of a magical lantern. The Begger’s Warf was surprisingly quiet after the sun went down.
Charlie didn’t get long to appreciate the serene street scene below him before the sound of steel colliding with stone shattered the air as crossbow bolts ricocheted off the bricks of the chimney. He risked a peek around the corner just in time to see another weasel assassin raise a hand-crossbow and fire. He ducked behind the chimney as the bolt whizzed past his muzzle, shaving a few hairs off his muzzle.
Charlie closed his eyes and just listened as the professional killer whose life he had stepped into assessed the situation from within his own head. Three weasel assassins clad in black leather armor and billowing cloaks were prowling the rooftops behind him. Charlie ran a hand down his throwing knife bandolier. One left. Not good. These guys were professionals, taking them out in hand to hand was a bad idea. Even if he won, his own assassin sense told him that these guys were using poison blades – even the tiniest scratch could mean that an otherwise glorious victory turned into an agonizing death days later.
Another volley of bolts shattered on the chimney. They were getting closer. He could hear them now, their paws padding almost silently across the tiles. Charlie sighed and fingered the pommels of his short swords.
Then a stray bolt rolled down the roof and bumped into his foot paw.
Charlie stared at it. His eyes widened as a plan began to form in his mind. Acting quickly, he scooped up the bolts that were mostly intact and pulled out his throwing knife. With a few expert cuts and some wood splinting, he managed to make four darts. Charlie was almost surprised at his own ingenuity – he’d never been a particularly handy person but now, a few minutes of well written backstory had turned into a lifetime of professional experience.
The tread of paw pads near the chimney made his ear flick. They were here.
Taking a breath, he rolled out of cover, and with a quick flick of the wrist, sent a dart towards its new home in a weasel’s throat. Not waiting to see if it struck true, he tossed the rest at the other two figures who had made the mistake of coming out of concealment in an ill-conceived attempt circle around his hiding spot.
Two of the assassins fell, blood spurting from their throats. Clutching their throats, they both tumbled off the edge, followed shortly by the two light thuds echoing up from the street below.
Charlie’s eyes were drawn to the third weasel. Its arm was held defensively in front of its throat, the crossbow on his wrist now destroyed by the bolt sticking out of it. Someone how the weasel had managed to block Charlie’s throw, but the hint of worry in flashing through the weasel’s eye made it clear that it wasn’t sure if it could do that again.
Making a snap decision to end the fight, the weasel tossed the now useless crossbow off his wrist, charging forward as a lanky paw drew a short sword from underneath his tunic.
Charlie had his blades out just in time to meet the assassin’s. The blades clanged, sending jolts up the wolf’s arms. Gritting his teeth, he managed to keep his grip on the swords. Instantly, the weasel whirled, his cloak billowing up and over the wolf.
A feint!
Charlie rolled to the left as the assassin’s blade pierced the cloak he’d tossed at the wolf. As clever of a play as it had been, it now left the weasel open as Charlie’s own sword thrust up. As the blade effortlessly slid into the weasel’s flesh, Charlie realized that he had unknowingly hit the one area unprotected by the weasel’s leather armor.
“So this is what a natural twenty feels like!” Charlie laughed out loud.
Fear welled up on the assassin’s face as it desperately looked at Charlie, its brain using up its last bits of oxygen in a vain attempt to understand the spell it though Charlie had just cast.
The weasel’s pupils relaxed as it slid down Charlie’s blade, its equipment clattering as the assassin dropped to the ground without even a cry.
Charlie watched his body roll off the roof and gasped for breath. That was close.
Shaking, the wolf laughed and sheathed his swords.
“End simulation!” Charlie called out.
Abruptly, the rooftops of Proskynesis, Holy Capital of Latreia, disappeared. Charlie was still bent over, paws on his thighs, catching his breath. That had been a hard one. The hardest fight he’d had since he started training in the Room of Illusion two hours ago.
The black marble floor beneath his pads were cool. He panted a few more moments, then staggered to the fountain and lapped eagerly, gulping down the refreshingly cold water. Properly re-hydrated, he walked down the hall into the baths, stripping out of his sweaty leather and undergarments and taking a long, luxurious bath.
He lay his head back against the edge of the marble bath and sighed happily. If he closed his eyes, he was afraid he’d sink off to sleep and drown. The heat of the waters soothed away his aches and pains. Charlie was pretty sure the steaming waters were laced with minor healing potions.
These last few days had sucked.
When Finn had told them he was starting a DnD campaign, Charlie was incredibly eager. He’d gone with the silent Rogue Assassin and had shamelessly ripped off a movie series for his backstory. He knew Finn hadn’t watched it because he hated Reanu Keeves, so he’d never know it was just a thinly-veiled-and-copyright-evading version of it.
Of course, Finn had absolutely loved his backstory and thought the idea of a legitimate criminal underworld was super innovative and praised Charlie endlessly.
Charlie snorted at the thought, then dipped his muzzle below the water and blew bubbles through his nostrils. Being an actual wolf was so fucking cool! His tail wagged and he marveled at how it felt swishing around in the water behind him. All these new skills he’d picked up were pretty fucking sweet too. Plus, his old body could never match his speed and agility. Charlie was having the time of his life and, frankly, wasn’t in any rush to get back home. That was, of course, if not for Jeff and Greg.
He wasn’t sure what Finn had cooked up for Jeff and Greg’s new backstories, but it had to be better than literally nothing.
They were what had made his last few days awful. Greg had stupidly fallen into a trap, which Charlie had to admit fooled him as well. But then he found out Jeff had known all about the hag and had basically not warned them. That pissed him off.
Still, he’d stayed silent through it all.
Greg had come out of it incredibly sexy - the perfect twink kitten. But it had been a curse and they’d been forced to give up the rest of their gold. The gold they needed to buy supplies for the real quest, the caravan. It had been so frustrating!
Every time they almost got back on track with the main quest line, some bullshit popped up.
Jeff was too fat and they had to buy him clothes. Greg was being a whiny bitch and useless in combat. Wizards had limited spells at early levels. In the end, he’d end up being the one doing all the work. Greg had been right-it had stopped being fun.
Tailoring was an identity exchange. He hadn’t delved too deeply into it when Finn was talking excitedly about the new lore behind The Order, but he assumed they’d be more focused afterwards. Even better, they’d be at whatever level the tailored identity was. The miniatures that Glitz had picked out looked pretty well equipped.
Charlie’s tongue hung out and he found himself panting like a… well, like a dog.
It was so weird. This new body of his both sweat and panted. Dogs usually only did one of them. Which meant…he’d probably stayed in the hot bath too long and was overheating. With a groan, he levered himself out of the bath and toweled himself off.
Then he stood under a white marble block and waited.
All the moisture in his fur was instantly sucked out, floofing him. Charlie grinned and brushed out his fur coat. The stone was enchanted to activate Prestidigitation whenever it sensed a living being underneath it.
He retrieved his gear, which had been oiled and laundered by another enchanted alcove for that express purpose. This world was so awesome! Securing his armor back in place, he retrieved his weapons and sauntered down the hall to the drawing room. Jeff and Greg should be done with their Tailoring by now and were likely waiting for him.
The drawing room was richly appointed, mahogany paneling, black marble floors, paintings and bookshelves lining the walls. At the end of the room was a large fireplace that crackled cozily. Next to it were well-upholstered armchairs and duvets. In the center of the room was a 3-D map of the continent. He could make out the Holy Lands of Latreia and, next to it, the country the party was currently in, the Kingdom of Chloa-Chlaithe.
“Hello Charles,” a high, imperious voice spoke from an armchair near the fire, “how was training?”
Charlie frowned. The voice was oddly familiar to him, but the inflections and intonations were all wrong. Almost like the person was speaking with a cultivated accent.
“...Greg?”
“Prince Gregory!” The voice snapped.
A lean, lithe form hopped off the armchair and strode angrily towards him.
Charlie blinked and stepped back, taking in the well-dressed mink who was approaching him. He could see Greg in the mink’s elegant visage, but everything else was different. The way he carried himself was more than a little arrogant and right now he was clearly angry.
But hot.
Very hot, in a way that made Charlie’s cock harden. This was the type of body he’d fantasized Greg having. All that silky white fur, the tight muscles, and a haughty attitude. The perfect fiery little twunk.
“You know perfectly well who I am!” The mink stabbed a claw at the wolf’s chest. “I had enough of such lack of decorum from…’Jeff’.”
The mink spat the last word out, lips curling up in pure distaste.
“Ah. My mistake…Prince Gregory.” Charlie sketched a quick bow. “You must remember that I traveled here with you when you had your original-er, your assumed identity.”
“No more mistakes!” The mink crossed his arms and pouted cutely, his pink nose twitching. “I need legitimacy and addressing me so casually undermines my claim to the throne!”
“Understood… my liege.” Charlie said, bowing more deeply.
Man, Greg was really getting into it! Normally, Charlie would be upset at getting ordered around like this, but at least Greg was properly roleplaying now. More to the point, the short cute mink giving him orders was a total turn-on.
And to be frank, this was exactly what Charlie was hoping it would be – he was getting to live a real fantasy life, in a real fantasy world. That meant rubbing noses with both beggars and royalty. And while Charlie could treat the beggars however he wanted, the royalty required respect, even if they didn’t deserve it. Playing along with that was exactly what this game was supposed to be about.
“I forgive your trespass.” The mink waved his paw imperiously. “I suppose we shall have to wait for Geoffrey to finish before we can plan how to usurp my brother.”
“Yes… of course…” Charlie said slowly.
Apparently, Greg’s new backstory was that of an exiled prince. He glanced at the map and wondered which country Greg was supposed to be the crown prince of. Well, he wasn’t going to break character again if he could help it. He’d just have to phrase his words carefully.
“It’s no small wonder it’s taking the bear longer. Did you see the disgusting blob he’d been tailored into as his fake identity?” Greg said.
“Errr, yes…his fake identity.” Charlie stared at the mink as he began to pace.
“What an outrage! My poor stalwart companion deserved better, I tell you!” Greg ranted. “He lost an eye for me, you know.”
Charlie felt icy fear grip his heart. He’d clearly made a big mistake. Tailoring was much, much more invasive a process than he’d been led to believe. Greg wasn’t just pretending to be a prince, or really getting into roleplaying. He obviously thought he WAS a prince.
But…was it really that bad? Gregory seemed to be fine. And if he needed to get Greg back, he could just have the Prince get tailored back when they won the game. Same with Jeff. Plus, Finn was the DM, he could just change all of this with a stroke of the pen. After all, he was their friend, he wouldn’t leave them stuck like this.
“What was wrong with Jeff?”
“Everything!” Gregory exclaimed, stomping his paw. “He was fat, obnoxious, and stupid!”
“I see.”
“Did you know he actually thought he was a wizard?” Gregory laughed. “Geoffrey. A wizard! What a farce!”
“Haha.” Charlie laughed weakly.
Heavy footfalls echoed in the hallway outside. Charlie’s ear’s flicked in that direction. It didn’t sound like Jeff, the weight of each step far heavier than even the morbidly obese brown bear’s. Charlie turned, his paw unconsciously landing on the pommel of one of his swords.
A massive polar bear appeared in the doorway.
His visage was scarred, a particularly nasty one crossing his left eye, which was milky white. The bear’s other eye was icy blue, but almost hidden under his dense black eyebrows. His heavy features made him look rather dumb but oddly handsome in a rugged sort of way, the brows expressive. What was most impressive was his figure. The polar bear was built like a brick shithouse with broad shoulders laden with muscles and a perfect v-shaped taper in the waist that expanded into bubbly haunches that bounced merrily as he stepped into the room.
“Geoffrey!” Gregory abandoned all decorum and bounded over to the polar bear and embraced him, nuzzling against his tight abs. “Oh thank the gods!”
“Prince Gregory.” The bear said gruffly, one huge, gnarled paw gently rubbing the mink’s headfur. “I missed you.”
Charlie eyed the lewd bulge that was descending down the left side of the bear’s pants legs and guessed that Geoffrey was very happy to see the mink. The bear’s other hand squeezed the mink tightly to him, then relaxed his hold and rubbed the Prince’s back.
“Come on Charles,” Gregory glanced back at the wolf, “it’s Geoffrey!”
Charlie walked over to Geoffrey and raised his hand to shake the bear’s. Instead, the mink hugged them both, rubbing the wolf’s ass as he did so. The bear’s big paw encircled Charlie as well, and he found himself squashed against the polar bear’s craggy pectorals.
“I’m so happy my boys are together again!” Gregory said, tears glistening in the mink’s eyes as he hugged them both. “I’ve missed you both so much.”
Charlie awkwardly allowed the mink to rub his ass, his cock hard. It wasn’t that he didn’t want the mink to touch him, quite the opposite in fact. But it felt like he was an impostor, privy to an intimate moment between lovers. What were they even supposed to be? Some kind of fucked-up throuple?
“Geoffrey?” Charlie said, looking into the polar bear’s eye and hoping that Jeff would still be in there somewhere.
He needed Jeff’s expertise and out-of-game knowledge. Without it, Charlie wouldn’t know the ins and outs of the world Finn had created. Before, Jeff had simply been too lackadaisical to disclose it, but now, as a more motivated... character, perhaps he would be more apt to inform them of the dangers they’d be facing.
The bear’s one good eye swiveled up from the Prince to focus on Charlie.
The black wolf’s heart sank as he saw very little intelligence there. Whatever was left of Jeff was trapped in the simple mind of a bodyguard. A relatively high level bodyguard, but still, the metagame knowledge was likely nowhere to be found in his vacant mind.
“Greetings, Charles. How was your training?” The bear asked.
“It was great!” Charlie said, his tail wagging involuntarily behind him. “And, uh…I didn’t know that tailoring would be so bad. I’m sorry.”
A smirk crossed the polar bear’s muzzle, and Charlie thought he saw a flash of intellect in Geoffrey’s one good eye.
“You can call me Geoff, if that makes you more comfortable.”
“No! I forbid it!” Gregory stamped his paw and ripping free of the group hug. “How can anyone be a strong, thrilling, powerful warrior and lover with a name like Jeff? It sounds like a weak ejaculation!”
Geoffrey ignored the Prince’s protests and stared meaningfully at Charlie. The wheels in Charlie’s head started to turn. So something of Jeff was still in there. The poor bastard. If he was all Jeff, he wouldn’t be playing along with the Prince.
“Geoffrey is fine.” Charlie said, tilting his head in a nod.
“Good!” Gregory exclaimed. “Let’s all forget about that horrid bear!”
Geoffrey’s eyebrows raised and his muzzle opened, then he appeared to hesitate.
“As you wish, my liege.” The bodyguard bowed, his jaw clenched.
“Moving on,” the mink quickly turned to the table and pointed at the Holy Land of Latreia. “Now let’s talk about reclaiming my throne!”
They moved to the table and gathered around it. Geoffrey retrieved some figurines from an alcove under the table and placed them on the board. One set of three represented their party. The others were various monsters and obstacles in their path.
Charlie eyed the polar bear, appreciating Jeff-err, Geoffrey’s-new form.
Normally he wouldn’t go for a literal musclebear, but he had to admit there was a certain allure to the bodyguard’s form. Being in his arms had been oddly comforting. The bounce of the bear’s firm asscheeks when he walked was pretty hot too.
The muscular polar bear fumbled with the last figurine, a finely painted red dragon. It dropped to the floor and rolled under the table. With a soft sigh, the bear bent over and groped around on the floor for the fallen figure.
Charlie stared at the Geoffrey’s ass as he shifted around, searching for the figurine. The wolf couldn’t believe how taut the polar bear’s pants were around his round globes. Geoffrey’s cute, tufted tail flicked, wafting the polar bear’s musk into Charlie’s sensitive canine sinuses.
It was delightful!
Charlie sniffed again, more delicately, savoring the complex scents the bear’s ass gave off. Geoffrey smelled masculine and powerful and… submissive. His tail wagged as he shoved his snout deeper, desperate for another whiff. There were more layers, impossible smells, like the scent of ice cracking in mid-winter.
Geoffery paused, turning his head and watching Charlie as he nosed deeper into the bear’s ass, nostrils flaring wildly. A smirk crept across the ursine’s scarred muzzle. Geoffrey gave his ass a little wiggle and the wolf desperately clung to it with both paws.
Gregory finally noticed his bodyguard’s odd position and glanced behind him at Charlie.
“Charles! Stop huffing Geoffrey’s ass!” Gregory demanded. “You know what a silly slut he is. Stop distracting the poor bear. We have important work to do!”
Reluctantly, Charlie pulled away from the bear’s enticing rump. Geoffrey straightened and placed the dragon figurine on the table on a mountain north of Proskynesis, City of Temples. Charlie’s eyes widened. A dragon lairing so close to the capitol city must have been a major threat!
“Yes, you see how precarious the situation is for my country,” Prince Gregory said to Charlie. “My twin brother has allowed the land to suffer. The forests grow dangerous, bandits travel the roads, Tharselex, the red dragon queen, harries the farmers and burns countryside towns to the ground while her kobold army ravages the rest of the countryside, stealing food and shinies for her hoard.”
“Maybe we should buy fire resistant things for our journey, my liege.” Geoffrey bowed.
“Oh do be quiet, Geoffrey! Anyways, I think it would be best to acquire ring of fire resistance. What say you, Charles?”
“I think that’s a good idea if we’re dealing with a red dragon, yes, my liege.” Charlie said.
“Good! Will you be using a coin now then, or what?”
“I’d prefer to save it until we reach the capitol, Prince Gregory. There’s another branch of The Order there as well.” Charlie replied.
“Hmmm…yes, that makes sense. Anything else you can think of?”
“Your allies could be made to rally behind you. There’s a tournament-” Geoffrey said.
“I know that Geoffrey! Goodness!” Prince Gregory turned to Charlie, “There’s a racing tournament. Lord Dashael bets huge amounts on it because he rigs it. Any rider he appoints wins, though he’s kept it mostly secret. If we can beat him with our own ringer, he’ll owe us a massive debt.”
“Interesting,” Charlie gave Geoffrey an apologetic smile. “Anyone else?”
“The temple-” Geoffrey began before getting cut off.
“Yes, yes, the temple! Apparently we can get the backing of the Druids if we remove a curse that’s befallen our forests. And, more to the point, there’s some mines that had to be shut down because of monster activity. Lord Shultz and Cambary have lands adjacent to the forest and Lord Epicarean is in a tough spot because of the loss of his mines.”
“And if we garner their support…” Charlie trailed off.
“They rally behind us and overthrow my brother. I considered cutting off his head, but I think I have the perfect form for him to be Tailored into.” The Prince smiled wickedly.
“And the hag?”
“Hmmm…she’s worth a Coin, right?”
Charlie nodded.
“We need at least one Coin for Tailoring my brother.” Gregory mused. “And you have a job to do in Proskynesis. Who?”
“Akyllis the Merchant.”
“Ah, I know of him. Obese Hyena with a smirk always on his face like he knows something you don’t?”
“...Sure, I guess.” Charlie shrugged. “Never met him. Just have a job to do.”
“Good luck. Father had him investigated several times and none of his agents ever returned.” Gregory replied.
“Great! Sounds like he’ll be interesting, at least.” Charlie smiled, baring his fangs.
“I do so love the look you get when you spot prey.” Gregory said, his paw rubbing Charlie’s thig.
The sound of hooves clopping on marble echoed from the corridor.
Charlie glanced over just in time to see the stag walk in bearing trays laden with snacks. They were high end hors d’eurves, fish roe and crackers and little charcuterrie and chocolates on the other tray. He set them down on a side table and poured them all some fresh cold water. The wolf chugged his glass of water gratefully, still parched from his exertions in the training grounds.
Gregory peered at the board, as though staring would give him better insights into tackling the problems.
”If you’ll excuse me gentlemen,” Glitz said as he made a graceful exit from the room, but not before Charlie got up and chased after him.
“Glitz!” Charlie hissed, marching to the stag and whispering harshly, “What. Did. You. Do?”
“Oh, the throuple thing? Ah, you caught me.” The stag held up his hooflets. “They were both straight as an arrow. The Prince and his bodyguard, I mean. But I knew you’d like it better if they were gay, so I tweaked their backstory. And oh my,” Glitz grinned and pulled out some pages of notes from his coat, “Oops, I forgot to hand these to you earlier. It’s their backstories.”
Charlie snatched the parchment from the fey stag and shoved them into his pocket.
“That’s not what I mean! They’re dead!”
“They’re useful now.” Glitz’ eyes hardened and Finn’s voice came out of his mouth when he opened his muzzle. “And look at them, are your friends really gone? No, they’re still themselves, but with a different life. Jeff is still a slut and Greg is still whining. But now Jeff has new priorities and Greg wants his holes filled by wolf and bear cock.”
“Greg is really mean to Jeff.”
“And Jeff likes it. He’s a total sub now. You’re the only real dom in the group.” Glitz shrugged. “They chose not to participate and to complain. I rectified that. If you guys win, I reward you with everything you want. Seems pretty fair, don’t you think?”
“I suppose…” Charlie glanced at the two. The big polar bear was giving the mink a shoulder massage. Both of their pants were tented. “I just feel sorry for them.”
“Who?” Glitz’ voice returned to normal. “The fat oaf and the whiny cat? They’ve got better lives now. Enjoy it.”
Glitz turned and walked out of the room, then paused. “Read those backstories.”
Then the stag was gone.
“Oh Charles!” Gregory called.
Charlie turned and saw the bear nuzzling the side of the mink’s neck.
“Yes?”
“Come. We have rooms upstairs.” The mink said, his paw reaching up to stroke the ursine muzzle. “Let’s break in the bed.”
The mink turned and made out with the polar bear, moaning desperately and lifting his tail in Charlie’s direction. Charlie sighed. There were worse fates. He adjusted his hard cock and strode over to his lovers.
Together they went up to their rooms for a long night full of sex and happy reunion.