Karen & Desmond: Alchemic Atrocities Part 2

Reward for: Paul Revere

Art by: Jakkal

On the more civilized end of town, Karen had little trouble finding an inn. In fact, she found two. This village must have some kind of booming trade to require so many accommodations. She settled on the 'Friendship Pony' mostly because 'Dead Mans Hole' still looked full of people ready to mug her blind.

The name itself brought a lot of unsettling implications as well.

It was an uneventful, sound sleep. One of the best Karen had in a while. Perhaps the prospect of ending today without having to seek out Azuchroma put Karen in a subconsciously relaxed state. A good thing, considering the sight of pointed elf ears in the mirror greeted her morning. They were easy enough to conceal once the bed hair was brushed out. It was the clothes that always killed her mood. They were subtle changes usually unseen by the public, yet still tormented her with their significant lack of slack in her pants.

In spite of these signs, She forwent consuming one of the two remaining flowers in her herb pouch. Based on Desmond's descriptions she might be needing them for more problematic issues after their experiment session. It was also on that train of thought the usual complement of a leather vest, pauldrons, and other gears were left inside her rooms lockbox. Experience had taught they were not cheap, nor ideal, to wear during a drastic transformation. Only her sword took its place on her hip, so as not to wander around a strange town unarmed.

Upon arrival at the tool shed, Karen was surprised to find it cleared out of all the plants and trinkets, she assumed, had belonged to Desmond. The broken table with shattered glass remained the same as when she left. It’s little alchemical spill, on the other hand, had since turned a shade of orange where it rested at the bottom of a five-foot pit. Rock continued to crumble and sizzle being gradually burned away by the substance as it dug relentlessly deeper.

She was halfway through uttering a curse in the thieving anthros name when, turning to leave, her eyes fell on a note tacked to the inside frame of the door.

Karen,

Sorry, this old place got a bit too unstable to continue using. Not to worry, I got plenty other homes around town. There’s a clearing in the forest north of the outskirts. Can you meet me there anytime two hours after sunrise? It’d be best we experiment in an open space anyway. If you’re late, just check the Rat for me sometime afternoon.

Cheers,

Desmond

Taking the note off the tac, Karen discovered a map had been messily drawn on the opposite side with directions to the requested meeting place. While she had to agree with the ‘open space’ remark, it did little to inspire confidence. Did he expect her to explode or something?

Finding the clearing proved reasonably easy. Desmond’s handwriting was something akin to deciphering ancient glyphs, but he also drew significant landmarks to follow. Karen found another curious surprise awaiting her arrival here; as three alpacas stood in the middle of the clearing. They were bunched up in a tight formation and, upon noticing her, all starred with disturbing intensity. It confused her because the nearest mountains were points on the horizon. Then she spotted the piles of torn clothes among the grass which helped put the pieces together fairly quick.

“Don’t worry about them,” Desmond’s voice called overhead, nearly muted by Karen’s alarmed cry. “Just some more ‘debt collectors’ that followed us around last night. Wanted to do me in when they found out I was going somewhere private.”

There came a rustling of leaves, and Desmond descended out of the branches into a soft landing a few feet from Karen. A moment later he held out his arms to catch a large duffle bag, nearly falling over from its weight.

“Those are people!?” Karen said. There was an amount of cautious respect building for this little ball of fur. Not many could cause such a drastic effect on a group of people, least of all without the help of magic.

“Technically, I think they’re camelids,” Desmond said, steadying himself on solid paws. Ignoring Karen's concerned look, he dropped the bag to shuffle through its contents. His large bushy tail swayed about happily in the wind. “They’ll change back to normal in a day or two, long as predators don’t find them. So don’t fret. Pirates usually get worse fates.”

"How many people have you pissed off?" Hiding a bit of amusement in her voice was hard. The town was a few miles away from any ocean access to attract pirates naturally.

"Not as many as you might think. Here, hold this."

Before Karen realized what she was doing, her hands suddenly supported the severed head of a squid. One that surpassed her own in size, glaring back with dead black eyes. She was suddenly very thankful to have chosen to wear gloves today.

"Um...is this part of the experiment?"

"No, that's lunch." Desmond snatched the head back into his duffle bag, which looked drastically lighter. During Karen's brief distraction, he had produced a half dozen bottles of colored liquid and two boxes arranged in a pile on the ground. "Nicked it off my friends there, and I freaken love calamari. A few breadcrumbs and rosemary should do it justice. Anyway, I got a few remedies that might prove useful to you after infusing some of my...creative flares.”

“Yes, you’re a real artist it seems.” Karen gave the small alpaca heard another worried glance, but then Desmond was already shoving a bottle full of what looked like grey mud against her chest.

“Yup. And like all true artists; I’m never appreciated in my own lifetime.” There was an awkward pause between them. Karen was taking a moment to examine the bottle in her hands. Perhaps a few extra moments in consideration for running back to town. But then Desmond gave his toothy smile and gestured for her to give it a chug. “Well? Bottoms up!”

Karen could not manage a full smile while pulling out the cork. An aroma of laundry worn by a sweaty troll for months assaulted her nose, almost causing the potion to be dropped. Once she fought back the gag reflex, Karen pinched her nose before tipping the bottle to her lips. There was no taste, but she still suffered a sickening consistency of chunky slurry oozing down her gullet. After about halfway through the bottle it became too much. Karen pulled back with a disgusted moan, throwing the potion back to Desmond.

"Baby don't like her medicine?" He teased getting the cork thrown square on his nose.

"At least it tasted better than it smelled." Karen checked her ears to find they still had sharp points to them. Worse was that they also felt a bit larger than this morning, almost completely losing their human shape. More importantly, her pants were no less tight around the hips. "What did I just drink anyway?"

Desmond's eyes widened briefly as he opened his mouth and then closed it again. He lifted the bottle to his nose for a couple curious sniffs. There was a notable lack of reaction to the stank on his part. “This was my attempt at a ‘reverse’ polymorph potion that I never got to correctly work. It tries to trick the body into returning to its natural state.”

“And why does it…Ahh!!”

Karen's thoughts were interrupted by sharp cramps that seized up both her hands. Holding them up, she could see the gloves middle fingers swelling with an ugly creaking of fabric. Karen was used to seeing this sort of transformation, but not at such rapid intensity. By the time the thought occurred to remove said gloves her 'hands' were already tearing out the seems. Both inner fingers had grown massively thick within seconds. Their tips became covered in a hard black nail that fused them together into a single mass. At the same time, her remaining fingers dwindled into each palm to feed such drastic grows.

Her palms ballooned out right after, finishing off the poor gloves, as they become proper forehooves. Their weight alone was enough to strain the disproportionate human arms attached to them.

“Ngggh!” Karen jerked in discomfort at the cramps shifting to travel up her arms. Itching accompanied a quick spread of thick brown fur to blanket her bare skin. The bones gave loud cracks as they lengthened well beyond human measure. Large amounts of sinew bulked up to fit for constant running while tearing the sleeves of her shirt in the process.

She fell back against the tree panting deep breaths. A frantic, and painful, twitching inside one of her pant legs told Karen a horse tail had finished growing out. The gentle touch of a fly near her ear caused it to reflexively twitch in an attempt to swat it away. It was impossible to check with horse arms, but they sure felt much higher up on the head.

Typically, it took her several days to reach a full equine form without some azuchroma. Karen surmised her body was definitely not used to a drastic transformation in a fraction of that time. Even the parts of her that had not changed felt strained. A long time had passed before her breathing became normal again. Which was what finally allowed her to realize her torso and legs had remained perfectly human.

“Desmond,” she said, holding her disproportionate hooves up for emphasis. “What in the nine hells!?”

“I told you, I never got it to work right. Always gets the base and target form confused and disjointed. Though I must say, you look cute with those big fuzzy ears.” He ducked a swing from her right hoof, which nearly threw Karen off balance. Instead of going for another bottle, like she expected, he squatted down to flip open one of the boxes. From inside sprang out a large bundle of Azuchroma flowers. “Ah well, didn't think that would work either. Let's try again."

One of the flowers was offered to Karen, who devoured it going pink in the face. She really did not enjoy being hand fed like an animal, but found little choice in this condition. Soon as that was finished Desmond pulled a stopper from a vial he produced from a vest pocket.

"To wash it down," he explained when given a suspicious glare.

It went down smooth and refreshing, cooling Karen’s throat. Apparently, it did have an alchemical purpose, for Desmond had barely pulled the empty vial away before her arms cramped once again. Thick horse muscle groaned as it visibly weakened. Rough fur shedded off in clumps with the slightest of movements. Her arms themselves soon began shrinking in length.

Reversing her deformities seemed to require a lot more time than imposing them. During which time, Desmond busied himself with a book retrieved from inside his duffle bag. A glance over the shoulder showed its pages were full of scribbles and doodles. Many of them had an odd assortment of numbers and shapes. These were identified as ‘formulas’ by her furry helper of the day. Since she had never heard of such a practice as alchemy before, their meaning escaped Karen’s understanding. At best Desmond managed to explain their function in a way similar to how some mages liked to write spells down in scrolls. Handy practice for quicker casting, or for the weak in memory.

If anything it killed time watching Desmond work. He claimed to be going over the alchemical principles for their next experiment. Not that Karen was just happy for a distraction outside watching her hoofs split back into fingers. Looking back at the alpacas, who seemed inclined to graze by now, this might be a bit more dangerous than she assumed.

“...and you need to strip!”

“What!?” Somehow those were the set of words able to rock Karen from her thoughts. The last five minutes or so she had just been nodding while Desmond babbled, lost in pondering a hot meal. Looking down she was relieved her arms were back to human standards. There was only a weak stiffness in her fingers, which still had a bit of black hoof on the tips. At least she had five of them again. A quick check confirmed her ears had returned to normal and there was no sign of a tail. More importantly; her clothes were once again loose and free fitting as ever. That brief moment of relief passed, which brought her stare back around to Desmond. “What did you say?”

“I was saying after what happened to your gloves it might be best to strip. We don’t want to go wrecking the rest of your stuff. As you saw, these effects can vary wildly. Plus, those boots look expensive, and I'm not repaying for them.”

Karen looked at her footwear with a snort. A prize from a previous adventure some months ago involving dire goats on a rampage. They were, indeed, worth a pretty gold in hard monster leather. The longer she could avoid having horse hoofs shredding through them, the better. Yet another prominent peeve of the transformationally cursed.

“What are you saying?" She said while reluctantly removing her boots. The grass still chilled against her bare feet, despite approaching noon. "You don’t know what these potions you made even do?”

“I know what they’re SUPPOSED to do. We have no idea what the WILL do.” Desmond had that annoyed, puffed chest, look about him again. “As I tried to warn you; this curse is unique and unknown. You’re essentially asking me to treat a disease by injecting the patient with every cure I have until something works. Anything can come from that. You could become a permanent horse, parts of a horse, an anthro horse. Granted those are the obvious outcomes. For all we know, this red bit will have you sprout bullhorns and wings.”

“I never have good luck with red potions.” Karne flicked her necklace adding, “or jewelry. They tend to make me look fat.”

They shared a light laugh that ended up leading into an awkward silence.

“Now that you mention it, any concern for your pants?” Desmond said with a smirk.

“Extremely, but I’ll deal with that bridge IF we get there.” Karen glared down at him, not about to render herself half-naked in the middle of nowhere. “There’s spare sets and a cloak in my travel pack.”

“Gotta browse those Big & Tall shops when you can’t get a flower fix, eh?”

“Mind your own business!!”

Desmond gave one weak laugh while plucking the red potion delicately from the pile. It was not handed over immediately, however. He seemed intent to study it in the rising sunlight for a minute. Mentioning a possibility of permanent consequences for their random experimenting seemed to sober up his lax nature. Whether it was out of concern for Karen's well being, or just a male pride issue for his alchemy, was still open for debate.

“Good luck then.”

The bottle was finally passed to Karen. She looked at Desmond for some kind of explanation, but that was all he had to say on the matter. Her resolve wavered only a moment before popping the cork.

It went down with a creamy syrup smoothness, possessing an irresistible taste of candied strawberries. A bit of a welcomed cry from the last potion. The whole bottle was soon depleted in long, vigorous gulps. Karen returned the bottle going slightly pink in the face, her stomach continuing to groan from a bubbling sensation.

"Excuse m-mmmphUURRRRPP!!"

No force of clamped lips could hold the burp back. Birds from nearby trees took panicked flight as Karen's belch echoed far across the leaves. Her ears were burning a bright pink, but now a sense of wrongness made her forget embarrassment. One look at Desmond explained why. She was now looking at him from eye level, clothes hanging loosely off her figure.

Before Karen could ask another belch made her vision drop down to Desmond's chest fluff. Yet another was mixed with a squeal of alarm when her pants fell off in a pool that almost reached her knees. Trying to pull them back up proved to be the biggest mistake. Two burps in rapid succession sent Karen tumbling over caught in a billowing net that was once her snug shirt. Fortunately, she had very little space left to fall.

Desmond could only watch in a mixture of annoyance and dread at Karen getting swallowed into her clothes. Looked like this potion was another dud and giving a cure was going to have to wait.

All sense had left Karen, replaced by a blind panic the more those loose garments enveloped her. Trying to get close to feed a flower would more than likely result in some injuries with all that thrashing. What little Desmond could see of her face was changing in the process; ears had already grown into points while her mouth and nose pushed forward into the beginnings of a thick snout.

A small object thunked against Desmond’s paw which broke his attention from this sad display. He reach down curiously to retrieve Karen's pendant, knocked off in her desperate struggles. When his gaze returned to the spot, she had vanished entirely under the rumpled folds of worn clothes and a sword on the ground. The only real sign of her presence was the fist-sized lump still moving about blindly under the white shirt. It was easy to guess what else was going on since her cries were replaced by tiny whinnies. Still, he could not help but laugh when the shirt's neck finally parted, and a miniature horse came staggering out.

“I must say you make one cute horse,” he said while kneeling down to loom over Karen. His hand reached out in an effort to pluck her from grass taller than her in many places. “Getting you eat the next azuchroma is going to take some time I wager.”

Karen had already been blinded by the sudden emergence into sunlight. And then she could not understand why the forest around her was so thin and smelling of grass.

In fact, without the pendant, Karen could barely comprehend anything with the average intelligence of a horse taking over. Such an abnormal state was already instilling panic upon Karens dominate horse side. So when it looked up to see this lumbering blue monster reaching down with sharp claws, it did not hesitate to take a panicked bite into its soft-furred finger.

Birds that had returned to their nests took flight in renewed alarm at the startled yowl echoing across the clearing.