Tanya & Elora: Walking in Another (Dwarf)'s Shoes (Part 1)

Hey folks!

Well, looks like another heatwave is hitting over here. Doesn't seem too bad, but I remember always thinking that just before it gets worse. But writing continues apace! Hoping everyone is doing well out there as well.

So whether you are or not, please enjoy a return to the world of Tanya and Elora, where you may detect the influence of one of my favorite authors in the chaos about to unfold. (And you can also probably tell which game series I had on my mind too). Enjoy!

-----

“… And if you ever need to ride through the Noct Basin again, Rico’s Runners will always be happy to provide.” The merchant, a man with a bald head and a thick moustache bowed, one arm pressed tight against his green tunic as the other passed a small brown purse filled with gold pieces over to the blonde Paladin.

“We’ll be sure to remember that,” Tanya chuckled, pocketing the payment. “And if you ever have need for a sword hand or a quick spell, you know where to find us.”

The pair shook hands, both giving the other a polite wave as they turned to get back to their business – the merchant to sorting out his wagon, loaded with goods for the market, and the Paladin walking through the town gates proper, heading off towards the local adventurer’s guild hall.

“Fiiiinally.” Elora sighed, appearing from the crowd and stretching her arms behind her neck as she fell into step with her friend. “Ugh, that trip lasted forever. Why don’t we ever travel the comfortable way? There’s plenty of carriage services that provide comfortable beds and other people to fight all the bandits and monsters on the roads! We should try one of them some time.”

“Well then we’d have to pay the people transporting us,” the blonde answered, grinning. This was an old ‘debate’ between the two of them. “Instead of getting paid for our guard services. Have you been sitting on a small fortune that you haven’t told me about lately, or do we still care about money?”

“Maybe we wouldn’t have to care about money if someone didn’t insist on all of those donations to any orphanages or churches we walk past…”

“Hey, what I spend my money on is up to me.” Tanya shrugged, her armour clanking as they wandered through the mildly crowded town streets. “I never touch yours – you just develop a spontaneous hole in your purse every time a pretty lady so much as winks at you.”

The redheaded elf let out a scandalized gasp. “Why I would never!” She paused, and then gave a half-shrug. “It’s two winks or more.”

“Oh, raised your standards?”

“Money has been getting a bit tight of late, yes.”

“Well, since we didn’t pass any orphanages on the way here, I think I can spot you a drink or two,” the Paladin chuckled, patting her friend on the shoulder with a gauntlet-clad hand as they neared the Guild Hall. “Just don’t get anything too fancy this time, alright?”

“Uh, actually…” But to her surprise, the elf shook her head. “I’ll catch up with you. I’ve got something else to take care of first.”

“Oh?” Tay blinked. El hadn’t mentioned anything like this before they arrived. “Business in town?”

The Sorceress looked away innocently. “Just meeting an old friend.”

Yeah, no, something felt off about all of this. “Oh? Which friend? Is it Elsa? You can bring her for drinks too if you want.”

“No, no, Elsa’s over on the west coast at the moment.” El tapped her chin as she thought. “I think she’s trying to kickstart diplomatic relations between Kelseth and the Mermaid Queendom in the ocean next door.”

“Oooh, good luck to her with that.” The blonde winced. “Those two have been fighting for centuries. Huh, Releya, then?”

But again, El shook her head. “Last I heard she was part of an expedition accompanying an elder dragon to the north. I should check and see how that’s going, actually…”

Tanya nodded. “A dragon march? Yeah, I can see how she’d fit for that. But then, who does that leave for you here…?”

“Oh you know…” The elf looked away, tucking a strand of hair behind one of her pointed ears. “Just a friend…”

The Paladin’s eyes narrowed. She knew her friend well enough to know when she was avoiding answering a question. And she also knew her friend well enough to know her other friends. Which could only mean one thing. “… Elora, tell me it’s not Clara.”

The reply came fast. Too fast. “It’s not Clara,” the Sorcress said entirely too quickly. “There, happy?”

Hm. Tay paused, and then muttered a quick prayer. Underneath her feet, a magical circle of golden lines in curved holy script appeared, spreading out under the elf as well. “There. Now tell me that again.”

“Hey!” El jumped back as if the divine magic burned. “Holy truth spells are cheating!”

Tanya groaned, rubbing her face as the golden light vanished. “Damnit El, not her. Come on, you know she’s a horrible influence on you.”

The elf scowled. “Okay, first off, human, I am far too wise and experienced to be ‘influenced’ by anyone,” she said, putting a hand against her puffed up chest.

“Unless they wink at you twice.”

“Shut up. Second!” She raised two fingers, wagging them in the Paladin’s face. “She’s fine! You just worry too much.”

The Paladin’s response was completely deadpan. “El, she blew up the Summer Palace.”

“It was never proven that that was her fault.”

“She collapsed the Twilight Valley! Dozens of ancient magical sites, all gone in an instant!”

“Okay, that was just a natural disaster that was waiting to happen.” El folded her arms, the picture of confidence. ”She did them a favour by making sure it didn’t happen during the tourist season!”

“By the Light, Elora…” Tanya groaned.

“Look, these things happen! No one got hurt. Much.” The elf paused to consider for a moment. “I mean, no one got unhealably hurt! So it’s fine. It’s not like she means for any of it to happen.”

“That just makes it worse! She charges about through ancient ruins and crypts with no care for the ancient evils she’s disturbing, just to bring back shiny trinkets that she can sell to the closest museum, and then she runs before whatever spectre she dredged up comes knocking to get their stuff back. She’s not even an Adventurer! She’s a grave robber at best.”

Elora snorted, unimpressed. “Oh come on, like we’re any better.”

She got the flattest look imaginable in return, before the blonde rolled her eyes. “You just think she’s hot.”

“Well she is!” The elf raised her arms in obvious protest. “That much is undeniable! It’s like saying the sun is shiny…” She trailed off, realising she was revealing a little too much candor. “But that’s completely unrelated to anything else I was saying.”

“Mmmhm.” Tanya clearly didn’t believe a word. “What does she even want?”

“Actually…” El grinned as she realised this was her chance to turn this conversation around. “You’ll be pleased to know that she’s learned her lesson after the Summer Palace thing – even though it definitely wasn’t her fault that happened.”

“It was absolutely her-”

“She’s retrieved some new artefacts!” She interrupted, continuing on as if Tay hadn’t said a word. “And she wants me, in my position as a respected Guild Magus, to look them over before she donates them to the museum, to make sure they’re all safe.”

That did it. That Paladin blinked, her confidence suddenly dented. She hadn’t been expecting to hear something so… responsible.

“Okay,” she admitted. “That doesn’t sound as bad as I feared. You’re sure that’s why?”

“Oh I’m sure.” El’s grin was the worst kind – the smug grin of someone who knew they were going to have ‘I told you so’ rights for the next week. “See? Her? ‘Terrible influence’ on me? Ha. Maybe I’m slowly making her respectable, did you ever think of that?”

“Neeever crossed my mind,” Tanya laughed, shaking her head as she started to move away, headed for the Guild Hall. “Just be careful, okay?”

“Relax~” The Sorceress gave her a casual wave as she backed off towards the business district. “I’m an expert with this kind of thing.”

Whether she meant magical devices or dealing with silly humans was something she felt she should leave unspoken.

-

“So, these are the artefacts?”

“That’s the lot.” Clara Therin spoke with a crisp accent – one that was far too sharp to be entirely natural. El had always assumed she tried to sound posher than she really was in order to charm people who should know better than to trust her. Rich people got away with a hell of a lot more than poor people did. “Just that crate over there at the end.”

The two were coming to the end of the hall of… Well, it wouldn’t be right to call it a mansion, it wasn’t quite big enough for that even if it looked every bit as fancy. It was more like… a holiday home for a very, very rich person. Which Clara was, actually. Privately, El figured that was the reason Tay didn’t like her.

Either way, it was pretty clear to see the building didn’t see much use as anything other than a store house. But then, Clara was kind of famous for travelling all around the world, barely ever staying in one place for long. Most of her homes probably looked pretty neglected when she wasn’t lending them out to guests.

The woman herself was in much better shape, of course. Despite not being a member of the Adventurer’s Guild, she had an Adventurer’s physique, and her clothing choices were clearly based on practicality rather than elegance – a blue blouse and leather pants, held up by a toolbelt containing all manner of equipment. With her short blonde hair that only just barely reached her neck, sharp brown eyes, El had always thought there was a certain similarity to Tanya in her looks, but had learned that neither woman appreciated the comparison.

“I do apologise for contacting you at the last minute,” the rich blonde was saying. “I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t in the area. Unfortunately, I may have burned a few bridges with the magic using community at large…”

“Psh.” El waved a dismissive hand. “They can get over themselves. None of that stuff they’re mad at was your fault, right?”

Clara sighed. “Well I’d like to think so…”

“Then think so! It’s easy, and makes you feel way better about the world.” Thinking nothing was ever her fault had certainly never steered Elora wrong, nope!

“Hah. Would that it were so easy. Though it’s not like any of it was ever my intention…” Clara sighed. “None of the relics I bring back ever give me any trouble. But it seems like the instant I turn my back, they start opening rifts to the nether realms or turning entire city states to gold…” She shrugged with annoyance. “Quite frankly, I’m starting to wonder if someone’s playing a prank of some kind on me.”

“Well have no fear.” El strolled up to the crate, circling it with a critical eye as she clasped her hands behind her back. “That’s what I’m here to check today. So, what have we got?”

The blonde nodded, pulling the crate open to reveal an assortment of golden treasures within. “Nothing too unusual, I don’t think. A royal guardian statue from the jungle empire of Pardinium…”

The Sorceress lifted the small golden idol out of the box carefully, turning it over in her hands. It looked kind of like a cat. “Cute. Not detecting any magic in it…”

“Excellent.” Clara had seemed confident, but she looked relieved at Elora’s words. Maybe her reputation really was getting to her. “Next up, then, the crystal blade of Bereter, carved from the skull of the third Queen of Kesk.” She pulled a dagger made from a jagged shard of black glass out of the box, handing it to the elf. “Found it in one of the royal burial sites over in the eastern jungles. The place was falling apart, half of the spike traps had rotted into stumps and none of the swinging blades still worked. Thought I’d best bring it to someone that could keep it safe.”

Elora nodded as she turned the blade over, her eyes glowing as she examined it for traces of mana. “Makes sense to me. And this one looks safe too. It would make a good channelling implement for a ritual, maybe, but it doesn’t have any inherent magical effects.”

The blonde clapped her hands. “Wonderful. Next up, one of the golden windows of Gandeer. Supposedly you can look through them into the past or the future, depending on which side you use, but I’ve never gotten it to work.”

“Yeah, you and half the magical world.” Elora snorted as she lifted the relic out of the box. It was a big golden frame, with two doors attached to it, much like a window with swinging shades. A little heavy, but that was it. “No one’s ever proven these things work like the legends say. But if it helps, I can tell that this used to be enchanted, a long, looong time ago. Whatever spell it was is long gone though.”

Clara didn’t look surprised. “Few things last forever – even portals through time, if that was indeed what it once was. But there’s no chance of it causing trouble?”

“Not unless you drop it on someone.” The elf set the gold frame down carefully.

“Well, there’s no helping that. But that just leaves… this…” She paused, before bending down to pull out a good sized wooden box. “Actually, I’m not too sure about this one myself.”

It was slightly longer than her wrist, and maybe the height of a fully opened palm, carved out of some kind of white lumber – El was a Sorceress, not a carpenter, she had no idea which. But it was rather elegant looking, with golden guiding sculpted around the outside, shaped like little figures dancing and holding hands, each decorated with different coloured gems.

“Looks pretty valuable.” That was all El could really think on seeing it. Nothing special jumped out.

Clara shrugged. “Maybe. It’s a music box, I think,” she said, opening the lid and revealing the contents – a small stage like interior, filled with crystal figures of all shapes and sizes, all linked up like the ones on the outside. “But I’ve not been able to get it to work. A shame, but I think it’s out of power.”

Elora took it with a raised eyebrow. “It’s not clockwork?”

“It doesn’t seem to have any cogs or mechanisms,” the blonde said, shaking her head. “I thought perhaps it might be animated by magic, but I certainly don’t have the expertise to find out. I found it in one of my store rooms. Some heirloom of the family, I believe.” She waved a dismissive hand. Ironically, Clara had always been far more interested in other people’s history than her own. “It’s funny. Sometimes relics are closer than you expect, yes?”

The elf laughed, looking the item over carefully. “I think that’s something that only happens to you.”

That got a small smile out of Clara. “Perhaps. It’s certainly old, though far from the oldest item I’ve ever found. I brought it so that the curator at the museum could perhaps perform an evaluation of it, when they have time. I mean, obviously, it may be nothing, just some worthless trinket, but I don’t think so.” She tapped the side of her head. “I’ve been in the business long enough to have an eye for antiquity, you know?”

Now that, El could believe. No matter what people might say about Clara Therin, no one ever accused her of forgery. Her finds were always one hundred percent the genuine article. Often times, that was the problem.

“Well if it’s supposed to be magic,” the elf muttered, peering into the box with a glowing eye. “I can certainly take a look…”

“Oh, I’d truly be in your debt if you could work it out for me, Elora.” The heiress giggled. “But don’t try too hard – Light knows that I’ve had no luck untangling it. If you can’t make any headway, it’s really not a problem.”

The Sorceress slowly turned the box over in her hands. “I’m sure I can crack it. Yeah, there’s definitely some kind of spell craft in here. Actually, I- Huh.”

A blonde eyebrow rose. “Something the matter?”

“No, not exactly. I’ve just never seen magic woven like this. This is kind of unique. I mean, it seems harmless enough, but… Wow, this was made by an expert. An artesian. I can tell you that much.”

“Quite the find then.” A chime rang through the room, and Clara looked up. “Ah, that’s the door. Sounds like the museum’s people are here to collect the donations. I’ll go fetch them. You’re sure these are all safe?”

“Mm. Those three, definitely. This one…” El squinted. “I don’t see a problem, but I still haven’t worked out what it’s for…”

Clara chuckled, patting her on the shoulder as she stood. “I’m sure someone will work it out eventually. Either way, I’ll make sure the curator knows to give it a proper look over. Why don’t you go get some rest in the lounge? I’ve got to sort this shipment out, but once I’m done I’d love to swap some stories of our adventures for a bit. I mean, I don’t have long until tonight’s gala at the museum, but I’m sure we can fit one or two in.”

“Yeah, that sounds… Great… Just… Gimme a few with this…”

The blonde snorted. “Okay, okay, but seriously, don’t get too worked up. I know how you get when you have a puzzle in front of you.”

“I’ll be fine.” The elf rolled her eyes, before refocusing on the box. “This really won’t take long.”

“If you say so~” Clara walked away, heading for the front door at the other end of the house. And Elora…

Elora stared at the device, frowning. She was close, she knew she was close. She could see the lines of magic all throughout this thing, could see how they connected, how they spun around each other. But they interacted in such strange ways. She really had never seen anything quite like this. What was it supposed to do? Did it really work? Why had it just started glowing?

Wait. What was that last one?

The elf shrank back in surprise as the gemstones around the box suddenly began to glow with their own inner light. On the stage, the little figurines began to move, dancing in circles around each other. And music began to play.

It was a beautiful tune, Elora noted immediately. Despite the simple looking design, the box was somehow able to produce the sound of dozens of instruments, all playing in harmony. Clara had been right that this thing was a music box. But… It was something more, too, she was starting to suspect. She could feel mana swelling subtly against her skin, like a gathering breeze. What was this?

Then, a voice, a female voice, began to speak. And with it, came answers.

“Greetings, one and all,” the box loudly announced, swelling with the music. “In a world of war and suffering, I hope this gift of harmony has brought joy and peace to your heart. For are we all not children of this great world, one and all? From the tallest elf, to the shortest dwarf. From the noblest human, to the most savage orc?”

Oh by the forces, really? El had no idea how she’d turned this thing on, but what she really wanted to know was how to turn it off. She only put up with this peace and love crap from really cute (and really dim) dryads, thank you. Wanting humans and orcs to get on was ridiculous – the two just loved fighting each other far, far too much.

It was almost as ludicrous as wanting elves and dwarves to pair up. Like, excuse you? Have you not seen how magnificent and perfect elves are? Have you never seen a dwarf? Magnificent and perfect were words they couldn’t even spell. They’d be too drunk. And filthy with dust from the mines or something. Eugh.

“Truly, we belong together, not apart. If we can but walk in one another’s shoes, I’m sure we can come to trust and understand one another, as I truly hope you might. And I hope you will take this understanding, and spread it amongst those you know, so that all may come to enjoy an era of unprecedented peace!”

Seriously, how could she turn this thing off? She didn’t see a switch or a key or anything. How was she supposed to-

“Sincerely yours, Gloria Deloria Falstein~”

Elora went pale.

She knew that name. There wasn’t a mage on the continent who didn’t. Gloria Deloria was one of the most famous mages of all time – and for all the wrong reasons.

The woman had been a savant. Perhaps the greatest spell weaver ever. But while she was thoroughly possessed of genius, she held a critical lack of what one might call ‘common sense’ – or any kind of sense at all, really.

Her creations just didn’t work – or, more precisely, they worked incredibly well at doing the last thing in the world you would expect them to do.

Things like a Magic Mirror that showed you someone else’s reflection ‘so you could feel better about yourself’…

Or a flying carpet that actually worked by lowering everything beneath it approximately thirty to one-hundred feet (Driving astromancers and fortune tellers into heretofore unheard-of levels of fury)…

Or, famously, the great library of Lexandra, that sucked the knowledge out of everyone who tried to read their books. The greatest archive of knowledge ever constructed! That no one could possibly access…

And she’d left hundreds of ‘devices’ like these across the continent! Quite frankly, a stupid amount of them. Some people even theorized that she was still out there, somewhere, creating more, to this day, though most sincerely hoped not.

No, technically, the name Gloria Deloria Falstein wasn’t the most famous name on the continent. Most people knew her as ‘Gods Damned Falstein’ instead. That one, everyone knew.

So, to put it simply, Elora had just discovered that she was handling an unexploded bomb – and she had learned this when it started ticking in her hands.

Maybe Tay had been right about this one after all…

Her mind raced, trying to think of a way to turn this stupid thing off before it did whatever it was designed to do, but there was no time! Even as she tried to hold the box away from her, she could sense the magic closing in, hear the music building to a crescendo!

Screw it. Drop the thing and run!

Elora turned on her heel, tossing the cursed box back into the crate as she threw herself into the fastest sprint of her life. But she’d barely made it three steps before she felt the spell behind her finish casting, the strands of mana weaving together into a truly ungodly pattern that she couldn’t hope to decipher, even if she had the time.

Desperately, she dove for cover behind some boxes, hoping that would be enough to protect her.

There was a bright flash – and then everything went dark.

-

She wasn’t sure how long it had been, when her eyes finally cracked open again. A while, it seemed, judging by the discomfort of her arms, splayed out over a collapsed pile of boxes. Apparently in her haste to get out of the way of the blast, she’d slammed herself into another stack of stored goods, hidden away in a corner of the store room.

And it had gotten darker, the light from the windows clearly showing the wane of the day. The sun hadn’t set yet, but time had clearly gotten on with things while she was out. Not a great sign. Had no one come to check on her?

“Uuugh…” El rubbed her head, trying to pull herself upright. She didn’t feel like she’d been blown to atoms or teleported to some far off plane, so she definitely counted that as a win. Still, she wasn’t going to feel secure until she knew what the hell that music box did. “Fookin’ magic nonsense…”

…

“Eh?” Her brow furrowed, eyes narrowing. Was it just her, or did her voice sound kind of… strange? “Th’ hells all this now?”

Oh. Oooh, no no no, that sounded completely wrong. Her voice was supposed to be melodic! Enchanting! Beguiling! Why did she suddenly sound like she’d swallowed a slime?! Her tone was rough, her diction cracked and broken. This was completely unacceptable. What had that stupid savant done to her?

There was no avoiding the mild panic that gripped her now, but the redhead tried to stay focused. She forced herself to her feet, trying to keep her growing concerns under control – only to find herself walking straight into another problem.

Namely, when had everything gotten so tall?

The boxes she’d tried to shelter behind were twice the size that she remembered. The same was true for the ceiling. And her red dress, the one she wore as a (fashionable) mark of her profession, carefully measured to her sizes, was practically hanging off of her. “Och, nae, this shan’t do ‘tall…”

There was one very obvious conclusion she could draw, but Elora was a big believer in denial, especially when it came to things she didn’t like, and there was absolutely nothing she liked about any of this. All the same, though, worry burning in her chest, Elora looked down… And blinked.

Huh. Her girls were looking awfully big today. They were practically popping out of her dress, holding it tight where everywhere else it hung loose. Interesting.

Well if Gods Damned Falstein had only given her bigger boobs then she wouldn’t be complaining. That was the equivalent of getting struck by lighting and it curing your lichrot. Unfortunately it looked like it was just her breasts that had gotten bigger. Everything else had gotten smaller.

A lot smaller.

Gathering herself up, fabric trailing behind her even as she tried to hoist her dress up around her middle, she stumbled through Clara’s house to the bathroom. There, with the aid of a stool, she was finally able to take a proper look at herself in the mirror.

In her reflection, a red headed dwarf woman stared at her with an expression that could only be described as ‘horror’.  Her hair done up in practical looking braids, her cheeks slightly marked by faint traces of soot, and all in all possessed of rather cute figure – a curvy dwarf indeed.

But still a dwarf where there should have been an elf.

“The feck is all this aboot?!?”

A dark feeling for dread fell over Elora. Looking at herself, she couldn’t see any traces of magic she could undo, no curses she could counter-spell. To her magical senses – which were feeling a lot cruder than they had that morning – she looked like an ordinary dwarf, with no sign whatsoever that she was an elf transformed. Whatever the music box had done to her, it had been incredibly thorough.

Which meant, unfortunately, that she was going to need to do something she’d sworn never to ever, ever do, no matter the occasion.

She had to ask Tay for help.

Ugh. The Paladin was going to be saying ‘I told you so’ for months…

-

It was a quiet evening in the Adventurer’s guild, and Tanya couldn’t lie – she found it very pleasant after a few weeks on the road. Doubtless she’d tire of the company soon enough, but for moment, the watered-down ale, the regular bar fights, and the off-key music from the bard up on stage were exactly what the Adventurer ordered!

And it was nice to just be able to relax without Elora flirting with every waitress in the tavern all the while, though she did miss her friend’s company. Ish. Kinda. Well, she was fun to talk to, sometimes.

Okay, fine. She couldn’t help but wonder how things were going for her friend. Clara Therin was bad news, she was certain of it, but she probably had some interesting stories to share as well. It’d be interesting to hear how things went once El got back…

But her musings were interrupted when the door to the guild hall burst open. “Ay! Tanya! Where the feck’ve ye gon’ hid?”

The blonde blinked as she saw a most odd figure stagger in. They were a redheaded dwarf who looked oddly familiar in a way the Paladin couldn’t quite place, dressed in… What looked like it had once been an expensive red dress (again, familiar) that had, at some point, been set on fire. Burn marks streaked up the garment from the black hem at the bottom around the dwarf’s lower thighs, black ash occasionally crumbling as the woman moved.

All in all, a little unusual, but nothing really out of place in any decent Adventurer’s Guild. No, Tanya just watched in curious amusement as the woman stomped in – at least, until the dwarf turned to look straight at her.

“Tay! There y’are! Y’gotta hel’me an’ not say nuttin’ smarmy like in t’while, y’follow?!”

Tanya blinked. No. No, she had not followed a single word of that. “Um. Sorry. Excuse me? Do I know you?”

The dwarf’s eyes narrowed as she stomped over. “Do y’ken meh? Aye y’daft tall, ‘course ye do. Lookit meh. Now get yer arse in gear before ah haf’ta club some sense t’yer dense head!”

Good Light over the clouds, what was that accent? Tanya had dealt with a lot of dwarves over the years – El preferred to leave them to her – and she’d never heard anything like it. This woman sounded like a parody, and an offensive one at that. The Paladin had no idea how to respond. “Um, look, I’m afraid I don’t understand…”

“Ragh! By m’fathers grandfather’s bearded breadsticks!” The redheaded little lady all but snarled at her, reaching out to grab her arm. “Jus’ come wit’ me an ah’ll ‘splain on t’wa-!”

The dwarf’s hand grabbed hold, a frowning Tay already reaching up to break the grip. But before either could finish moving, there was a flash. Bright light shot through the Guild hall, attracting everyone’s attention.

And when it cleared, a dazzled dwarf was left staring as an empty set of armour suddenly crashed to the floor under the table, its former occupant nowhere to be seen.

“Uh.” Elora swallowed. She hadn’t been expecting that. “Tay?”

There was no answer. Indeed, there was only silence.

Someone approached. Kelwar Davis, the tavern keeper, a former human fighter who’d retired once he’d gotten married. Elora tended to ignore him – he wasn’t really her type – but right now, she was feeling she should probably pay him some attention.

“Ma’am,” he said, trying to calm the tense atmosphere in the bar, “I think you’d better come with me before-”

And then, before she could think to stop him, he clapped her on the shoulder.

There was another flash. Suddenly, where once there had stood a strapping dark haired human fighter, there was a large breasted female orc, wearing a tavern keeper’s apron. “Huh? What dis?” She grunted, looking down at herself in alarm.

“Wait!” Elora tried to shout. “Dun do nuttin’-!”

Too late. One could not expect Adventurers to act sensibly in the sudden presence of an angry orc. Especially not drunk Adventurers.

“Get ‘er!”

“Have at thee!”

“Look out!”

“Fight! Fight! Fight!”

There was an explosion of rowdy cheers, and the sharp sheen of drawn weapons as Adventurers of all shapes and sizes charged in… And then flashes were rolling through the room like someone had tossed a fireball into a firework factory.

A few moments later, Adventurers of even more shapes and sizes were brawling around the bar. El, head in her hands, eyes peeking out between her fingers, saw orcs tussling with minotaurs, vampires kicking giant frogs, a dryad screaming at a sphinx… She even saw a treasure chest sitting at the bar, a long tongue stretching out of it to steal everyone’s discarded drinks!

And then her hands were shoved aside by tiny glowing arms. A fairy with rainbow gossamer wings and a very familiar shade of blonde in her hair landed lightly on the dwarf’s nose, her feet barely pressing against the skin, she was so light.

“Elora.” Tanya the pixie leaned forward, grabbing the dwarf-fied elf by the eyelids and glaring with the full force of the sun. “What. Have. You. Done?”

Gods Damned Falstein…