“Okay, let’s see if we have a suitable monster for you…”
The goblin leafed through a stack of parchment in front of her. Each page was covered in writing, many with a sketched illustration of a monster: dragons, werewolves, harpies… and many more you didn’t recognise. Soon, parchment was scattered about her desk; built from strong oak, it dominated the small room. Her office had a cosy feel, helped by the warm torchlight, every wall covered in shelves packed high with books, potion bottles, and more than a few trinkets from her adventuring days. A former rogue — sorry, dungeoneer — the stout goblin had decided to retire from the adventuring business and start a new line of work providing temp workers for dungeons.
After all, she’d helped clear out a few.
There were always wizards in need of hulking metal guardians, labyrinths lacking minotaurs, hoards of treasure without dragons, and dungeons in dire need of random encounter monsters. Fortunately for Violet, there were far too many low-level adventurers lacking the real combat experience most quests were looking for. So Violet, ever the opportunist, set up the Monster Temp Agency. A wizard she used to run dungeons with supplied her with transmutation potions, capable of changing the drinker into almost any monster, tailored to the needs of the job vacancy. Dungeons were guarded, and adventurers got the experience they need… if from a different side of the battle. And, hey, sometimes an actual monster wandered into her office. (And before you ask, don’t worry, she has a cleric on retainer in case a resurrection or two is needed.)
At least, that was what the rumours said… Violet had always been a little coy when you’d asked. Once a rogue, always a rogue.
That was why you were there, of course. You were just another fighter - one of many she’d seen this week, apparently - and not a terribly experienced one. Sure, you’d cleared out your share of giant rats from the inexplicable maze of tunnels below the local taverns… but that was about it. There wasn’t much market for adventurers with such little experience, even if you did have a solid backstory: raised on a farm, parents mercilessly butchered at the hands of an evil tyrant, spurring you on to seek adventure and revenge. Pretty common hero’s journey stuff, apparently.
Violet huffed a little, glancing back and forth between you and the job requests. It didn’t look promising.
“Is there anything? I don’t mind if it’s entry-level work, just enough to say I’ve done some honest adventuring, er, monstering,” you said, betraying some of your nervousness.
“Well…” Violet began, drawing the word out, “I’ve got one job you might be suited for. Standard guard work, possibly a bit over-levelled for you, but apparently adventurers never make it to your part of the dungeon… mostly ceremonial, it says here.” She looked up, smiling at you, probably in an attempt to be reassuring.
You weren’t very reassured… but, well, work was work.
“I’ll take it!” you said, trying to show confidence you didn’t have.
“Okay then!” Violet replied, stepping over to one of the shelves behind her, packed with potion bottles. Each glittered a different hue, glowing softly in the dim light of Violet’s office. Each was wrapped with string to a thick roll of parchment, and a small ring of carved stone. Muttering under her breath something about needing a better filing system. Several shelves in, she finally found one she was happy with, carefully easing it out of the cluttered stack before hopping back into her chair.
“Okay,” Violet repeated, unbundling the items, “one standard contract: you’ll be transformed to suit your new role for 3 months, after which the enchantment will wear off, you’ll be transported back, usual workplace injury clause, blah blah blah…” she handed over the scroll, packed with dense writing you could barely make out, “one blink stone, that’ll take you to your new home… and one potion, perfect for your new guard duty.” The blink stone looked like an ordinary piece of thin slate, chipped into a ring, and carved with strange symbols; while the potion glowed a caramel brown, the glass warm to your touch, “any questions?”
You were struck silent for a moment, eyes flicking back and forth between the contract and the potion, “er… when can I start?”
“Just as soon as you sign the contract,” Violet replied, voice chipper, offering a quill, “or, well, just mark it with an X.”
You marked it with an X.
“Perfect!” she took the scroll back, quickly rolling it back up, and setting it atop a pile of other scrolls at the side of her desk. “So, wherever you’re ready, just snap the blink stone and you’ll be on your way! You can take the potion as soon as you arrive, though you might want to remo-”
The blink stone snapped effortlessly between your fingers, Violet’s words lost to a rush of magical energy. The room around you started to smear, colours bleeding together, turning into a maelstrom of colour whirling around you. The chair dissolved under you, leaving you weightless in the storm of magic, whisked away by the blink stone’s magic.
After what seemed like an hour, or just a few seconds, reality started to slowly bleed back in, revealing walls of immaculately smooth stone. Glimmers of orange light resolved themselves into flickering torches. Firm stone brushed against your feet as the magical storm subsided. Your weight abruptly caught up with you, dropping you unceremoniously on your rear, the stone cool and hard beneath you.
“Where the hell am I…” your voice echoed off the bare stone walls as you picked yourself up, trying to figure out where you'd ended up. The stone walls were eerily perfect and uniform, a long hallway stretching out away from you in both directions, whatever was at the end obscured by the distance. Checking the potion hadn’t broken in the fall, you picked a direction at random and set off walking.
The featureless corridor gave way to… more featureless corridor, branching off to your left and right. The same inexplicably burning torches lined the walls at regular intervals, the otherwise featureless walls broken only by more branching passageways.
Your thoughts turned to that potion, still warm in your hand. Should you drink it now, you wondered? Were you just supposed to be guarding these empty passageways, or had the blink stone teleported you to the wrong place? You tried to remember her words… something about taking it immediately… what was it she’d said after. You shrugged, uncorking the potion, an aroma of hearty food and incense wafting up. A little nervously, you drank the potion down, the liquid tingling on your tongue, the comforting taste of a home-cooked meal. You waited a while, half-expecting scales to suddenly erupt across your body… nothing. Just a faint warmth in your stomach as the potion settled. Dropping the bottle to the ground, you turned your attention back to wherever the heck you were.
“Some kind of… maze?” You wondered to yourself, picking a wall to follow, turning corner after corner to see only more of the same uniform corridors. It was like the dungeon had been magically built to be as perfect and maddening as possible… you could have been walking the same corridor a dozen times and never realise.
An ache in your legs pulled your thoughts away, a growing feeling of tension, your muscles cramping. Had you really been walking that long? It seemed only a few moments, so why did they hurt so much? You reached down to massage a thigh through your leggings, feeling the fabric stretched tight over tense muscle. You felt your blood surging through them, each heartbeat making them swell just a little more, straining to escape from your clothes. Whatever you were transforming into, your changes had begun.
You turned back to the maze, determined not to become a monster in some random corridor. As you walked, legs aching with each step, you started looking for any small details: the occasional chips and scratches against the walls — battle scars from stray swords? — or the debris littering the floor. Broken glass, scraps of leather, bones long gnawed by rats. It wasn’t much, but if you saw the same jawbone again…
Another step, and a tearing sound echoed through the hall. A feeling of relief washed through your body, the strain in your legs suddenly released. Looking down, your thick thighs had shredded through the fabric, the exposed skin bristling with short hairs. Running a hand across your leg, the hairs felt could, growing more with each moment, until they covered your legs with a fine coat. Whatever you were becoming, it was hairy… and powerful. The new muscles in your legs, freed from the confines of your clothing, bulged with each step.
A feeling of power and vigour was spreading through you, a desire to stretch them, to explore deeper through the winding maze.
Each step seemed to carry you further, the rough ceiling getting closer. Your legs weren’t just growing stronger, but longer as well. Tendons and muscles shifted, bones aching as they adapted to your transformation. A couple more bends through the maze, and you realise you’d begun to walk on your tip-toes, feeling so much more comfortable now.
A dull ache in your chest made you realise the changes must be spreading up, the same feeling of tightness through your armour, your growing body trying to break free. Realising too late what the goblin must have been warning you about, you tried to undo the straps of your armour before the seams tore free. Leather and metal split apart, flung about the floor, just more pieces of junk to line the hallways.
There was little time to mourn your destroyed armour, staring down with amazement at your transforming chest. The same thick coat of fur was spreading upwards, tickling slightly as it went, that feeling of power following after. Muscles twitched and grew under your skin, your belly pushing outwards slightly as your abs developed under a soft layer of fat. Even your waist pushed outwards, your whole torso growing wider. What remained of your leggings pulled tight, little more than a tattered loin cloth hung around you. Despite the cool of the air, you felt warmed, insulted by the bulk of your body and the dense hair.
Breathing heavily, you ran a hand up your body, feeling the warmth and power of the growing flesh below. Your pecs were expanding too, rising out from your torso, showing the kind of strength and power you’d only dreamed of before. With each breath, your chest puffed out more, lungs expanding inside you. The scent of your changing body filled the air, reminding you of the farm you grew up on, your family’s herd of cows. The hair spreading over your body grew thick about your chest, warm and shaggy, moving over your shoulders. You felt them straining, popping slightly as they pushed outwards, adjusting to your barreling chest.
Still, you knew you shouldn’t stay here… something in the maze was calling out to you, urging you on. A growing desire you couldn’t quite place.
Pressing on, feeling the ache in your arms as the changes progressed, you rounded corner after corner. It seemed as though the branching corridors were growing narrower, your changing body expanding with each passing moment. Hands brushed along the walls, arms bulging with rippling muscles. More hairs grew to cover them, a rolling wave moving down your arms, covering the back of your hands. Even they were changing, fingers thick and powerful. Your nails turned black, thickening, growing wide and tough, carving the stone walls as you pressed on.
Not far now, you thought to yourself, unsure where the thought had come from. It was hard to shake the feeling of a growing familiarity with this place, despite or perhaps because of the uniform walls.
Your boots started to shift on your feet, feeling loose one moment, then tight around the heel the next. You felt them stretching out, bones shifting, drawing your feet out longer. Pausing a moment to brace yourself against a wall, you ripped them off, your powerful arms making short work of the tough leather.
In the flickering torchlight, you saw your toes merging together. Nails grew thick and black, at first just like your hands, until the flesh of your toes started to blur together, still split down the middle. Flesh and bone warped, weaving together, merging into two powerful toes on each foot. Still growing outwards, nails joined together, brushing against the rough floor as they turned to hooves wrapping around each foe.
All these winding corridors suddenly made sense, the stone labyrinth you’d found yourself in, that feeling drawing you on. Were you searching for escape, or the heart of the maze, the treasure you were surely meant to guard? Whatever the answer, you couldn’t deny the pull of it, the urge to press on.
Your footsteps echoed through the maze. Loud, ominous, terrifying — a warning for anyone who dared venture into the labyrinth, the smooth walls making it impossible for anyone to be sure which direction you’d be coming from. The thoughts pressed onto your mind, new instincts to suit your new body, your new purpose.
The changes progressed to your neck, a tense feeling running through as it stretched out, growing thick with muscle. Pressure built in your skull, twin pains developing on your forehead, something desperately trying to push its way through. Reaching up, you felt the beginnings of horns rising under your skin, a sense of relief as they emerged from your head.
Your skull followed, pushing forwards, stretching your face outwards with it. Looking down, you watched your nose expanding, growing broad and flat, dominating your vision. Nostrils flared, snorting, your new lungs drawing more and more breath through them. The barnyard smell grew more intense, your new nose drawing in your scent, and that of the maze around you, burning oil and old blood. Teeth shifted in your jaw, adjusting to your longer mouth, becoming blunt as they expanded. Even your lips and tongue expanded, each growing thick and flat to suit your bovine head.
Not much longer, you thought, unsure if you were thinking about your transformation or your journey through the labyrinth. The corridors were becoming shorter, the bends more frequent, surely you were nearing the centre.
Even with your stronger neck, you felt the weight of your head increasing. Your horns were still growing, curving outwards and upwards, expanding at their base as your forehead became wider. Your vision shifted slightly, eyes pushed out to the sides of your head, letting you see more of the treasure around you. Just above, your ears flattened, drawing out into flat leaf-like shapes. They flicked about, listening for the slightest sound around you; the drop of water, the scurrying of a mouse, the roar of a fire.
A short distance ahead, the end of the corridor glowed with warm light. You quickened your pace, rounding the corner to find a chamber filled with gleaming gold, the treasure of a dozen kingdoms. It was arranged around the walls, each piled high with coins and jewels, armour and tableware, statues and furniture. In the centre, a fire blazed, warming the immense throne behind it.
You stepped around the fire, picking up an immense axe resting against the throne. Far larger than any mere human could wield, it felt just right in your hands. A polished plate sat nearby, reflecting your new body back at you. No longer some mere human, you saw a minotaur: the power of your new bovine form, the rightful guardian of your treasure, of the labyrinth that was your home. Grinning with satisfaction, you bellowed out a roar, a challenge to whoever would try to take what was yours…
Back in her office, Violet turned away from the scrying orb (liberated from the Wizard of the Black Tower), smiling to herself. Another satisfied customer, she thought. Still, there were many more orders to fill… a mountain hoard in need of a dragon, that one should be easy to fill; yet another lich too lazy to dig up their own skeletons; a local werewolf pack running a recruitment drive; a cyclops in need of some new armour… wait, that can’t be right?