Johnny went down the corridor, made what he thought was the correct turn, but ended up in a completely unfamiliar place. He turned around and backed out, but nothing looked the same. Great, I'm lost. He thought.
He decided to just explore the place a little. He went down another corridor, and heard crying ahead. Curious, he walked toward the sound.
He entered the room, and saw a woman sitting in a chair, weeping into her hands. "Um, excuse me." he said.
The woman looked up. She looked very beautiful, and curious, and then alarmed. "Who are you," she asked, "and why are you half-naked?"
Johnny swallowed. "Sorry. Its kind of hard to believe, but I just grew a lot almost instantly."
She raised her eyebrows. "A Spelstorm trinket, probably." She had an idea. "My name is Emily. Could you help me?"
"I guess so. My name's Johnny....er, John."
"All right, John. I need you to impersonate my father. My engagement to Byron Spelstorm can only be cancelled by my father, and I don't know where he is. There are some clothes in the closet there." she pointed to a sliding wooden door.
He shook his head. "Emily, I don't look anywhere near old enough to be your father."
She looked hard at him. "Just get dressed. I'll handle the rest."
Puzzled, he went to the closet and opened it. He found clothing, most of which looked like it belonged in movies about olden times that his mom made him go see. He pulled on a shirt, pants and shoes, but they were all far far too big for him. He looked rather ridiculous
Emily helped him the rest of the way, selecting a vest, coat, and tie. "Now, the rest of it." she said cryptically, caressing his face.
John felt himself stumble and get a little tired. His face itched, and his vision blurred. He blinked a bit, feeling his body thicken. When he looked into the mirror, he looked to be about 60 years old. He had balding gray/white hair, long white sideburns, a handlebar mustache, and deep wrinkles. He could feel a very large belly where he used to have a six-pack of abs. He looked like one of those older portly gentlemen from Victorian times. "What did you do to me?" he asked her in a deep voice.
"I made do. Come, let us see Byron and get this over with." she took his arm, and began guiding him towards another door.
John was afraid, but curious.