Transformation magic was the scrawny mage’s one talent (aside from being a popular bedwarmer. But that's what you got for being pretty faced runt at an all male wizarding school school). And now that he finally had the shifting stone of Sharn Mika’s head was swimming with so many ideas he just couldn’t decide. Maybe it was the spark of magic in his blood or his wild imagination but the stone was humming. Mika, however, was lost in thought. He failed to notice the ire in the molly mule stirring. He failed to notice the glint of intellect in her eyes.
CRACK! The molly mule reared and brought her hooves down on Mika and the stone. Mika was thrust back, holding onto the stone for dear life as he tried to roll away from the angrily animal. The stone didn’t shatter – ancient artifacts seldom do – but it chipped, and cast a baleful green light over the camp. This wasn’t right at all.
Mika felt a tingle all over as he struggled to his feet, whoozy from the mule-kick he was glad didn’t kill him. The dusting of hair on his chest was receding again, and what little muscle there was on his arm gave way to skin and bones. He was becoming a kid again, wasn’t he? But the changes didn’t stop there. While Mika’s upper body became scrawny and hairless thick tufts of fur sprouted from his legs. The apprentice’s modest manhood was growing and very aroused, but quickly swallowed up by a fuzzy sheath. He felt his toes going numb as they twisted and elongated into hooves. He yelped in surprise as two small horns jutted from his forehead.
He was a satyr. Mika smiled at the thought. It felt right. Magic, childish mischief, and virility all rolled into one. But he soon snapped back to reality. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Robin, the burly innkeeper, running at full speed from the camp. He wore nothing but a bridle. And from the tent came a low rumble as an enormous, shaggy minotaur burst from within. He could tell it was a girl minotaur on account of the huge breasts and prominent udder.
“You!” she snorted angrily as she charged toward the goat boy, “I thought we agreed NOT to touch that damned stone!”
The satyr rolled to his feet and danced out of the minotaur’s reach. Mika grinned and laughed, this felt great! “Bringing the molly was YOUR idea! And I fixed Ed just fine. I just wanted to TRY it! I do know SOMETHING about the Shifting Stones after all,” His voice was a high-pitched child’s squeak, but lively and melodic compared to his stammering stableboy persona.
“Ha!” Ed stirred. The bard was still a centaur it seemed, “And fixed me you did. And might I say you gave yourself highly appropriate shapes. I do wonder if the stone’s given you any talent with the flute. We could be minstrels together!”
“Audrey could play the cow bell!” Mika giggled.
Audrey snorted in anger, stomping her hoof, “Change. Me. Back.”
“I… um… it… it chipped… but it wasn't my fault! I didn't mean to change you! The mule kicked me!”