“Unhand me! Unhand me, you monster! Brute! Cad! Scoundrel!”



Princess Elizabeth of Sarimalia, known for her beauty, grace, and delicate temperament, hurled insults as best she could while being dragged through what could be considered the town square of the orc settlement: a ragged pile of dirt and grass with the ashes of dozens of bonfires and gatherings in an otherwise modestly sized encampment. Her beauty and grace were perhaps hard to see through her smeared makeup and dirty white dress, with her long auburn hair ragged, while her nose was red and her eyes raw from crying ever since she had woken up after her kidnapping. She dug the heels of her soft slippers into the dirt in a futile show of resistance, while her arm being gently tugged by the powerful orcs was enough to slide her along with them barely noticing.

Elizabeth hardly knew what was going on, having passed clean out from a case of the vapours the moment she saw one of the ghastly green creatures stick his awful grinning face into her carriage. She had been ambushed out of the blue on what she had thought was a safe road that orcs seldom crossed, having brought only light security as she found traveling back and forth with a legion of bodyguards to be tedious at best. As a result her meagre contingent of guards had been easily beaten senseless by a gang of orcs that easily outnumbered them: swords snapped by great wooden clubs and helmets left with dents they were lucky to have when normally they would have been totally caved in, as the brutes had decided to go easy and leave them with broken bones at worse, telling them that they were to go home and tell their king that they had taken their princess, and wouldn’t be getting her back.

When she had woken up, she had been in a roughly constructed wooden hut, lying on what could be considered a bed, straw stuffed into a rough linen cover, and had nearly fainted clean away a second time just from the experience of not being in a luxurious bedroom that peasants could only dream of. It was there that she got her first real look at an orc, the great beastly fiends that she had only seen drawn in books and described to her by her tutors and the various knights who bragged about proving their worth by besting them in battle. He had come in with a glass of water and a bowl of stew, asking her strangely politely if she was hungry after her trip, and had gotten only screams in response: sheepishly responding that he’d come back later.

In that brief encounter, Elizabeth had seen all she needed to know about the average orc, as he fit the average description of one, and they all looked the same to her anyway. Ignoring his abhorrent facial features that Elizabeth refused to settle her eyes on for more than a second, he was two heads taller than a regular man and twice as wide, with arms and legs like tree trunks and a barrel chest, although the fearsome muscles they were known for were somewhat obscured under a plush layer of fat, the creatures designed to put on weight easily to survive the leaner months and harsher climates, as well as the simple physical advantages of being a gigantic hunk of muscle with even more weight piled on top, legendarily known for being unable to be pushed around by anything short of a troll, save for other orcs. He had a large round gut and a sagging chest that reminded her of her old fat nursemaid, with a rounded face that was reminiscent of her portly overstuffed uncle. While said uncle swung himself around like he could hardly move at times, the orcs carried themselves easily and powerfully, able to intimidate humans just by existing. It was no wonder that their species didn’t get along, as it was near impossible to not feel threatened around them.

Elizabeth had stuck her head out of the hut for a moment to discover that she was in some sort of great forest: the village placed in a clearing of sorts with all of the basic necessities nearby, and trees in every direction otherwise. She could see orc men and women skinning beasts and carving meat, which made her sick to look at: craftsmen carving out tools that lacked any of the sophistication of human-made equipment, but certainly got the job done. Houses were being patched up by builders, and mothers tended to their playing children. It was admittedly more peaceful than Elizabeth would have expected, who had a mental image of orcs living in something between a non-stop tribal party, or worse, a roaming war band that existed only to plague humanity. Instead they seemed to merely be getting on with their lives, but Elizabeth was too busy thinking about herself to pay much note to it. The important part was that she was surrounded by enemies who might be planning on tearing her limb from limb or even worse, and so she huddled in her hut, curled up and sobbing to herself.

And so the hours passed, and eventually the party that had abducted her came to see if she had woken up. The presence of five orcs stepping into the hut while more waited out was enough to cause her to faint again before they could get a word in, and so she found herself with water splashed on her face and a promise that they’d turn her upside down and dunk her in the river if she couldn’t stay awake for five minutes around them. She had responded with more screaming and crying until her throat went raw and she settled for whimpering: refusing once again a cup of water offered to soothe her sore throat. She didn’t need sympathy from monsters, after all.

The party finally emerged triumphant from the small building, Elizabeth realising that she had been placed in what must have been the orc equivalent of a guest bedroom, as the other houses in the village were of larger and sturdier construction, enough to contain entire families in a more permanent way. She had practically expected mud huts, and her mind, exhausted from fear, preoccupied itself for a moment by admitting that they had exceeded her low expectations. What didn’t exceed her expectations however, were the orcs’ sense of fashion. Most of the men wore nothing more than rough pants, shorts, or even loincloths, going proudly shirtless and baring their thick green skin and large, soft bodies to the world. Even the skinniest orcs had large beer guts that she really wished they’d put away, but when she looked at the less scantily dressed women they were hardly better. The women were even larger than the men, easily obese with huge bellies, large sagging breasts, and broad hips, all contained within thick drab dresses that often looked more like potato sacks to her. She supposed it was good that the ladies kept their modesty intact, even if they were orcs and seemed to behave as roughly and brazenly as their male counterparts. She still couldn’t bring herself to look at their faces, and kept her gaze downcast as a result, praying for some sort of sudden intervention to save her.

But before she could even dream of rescue, the assumed leader suddenly began to bellow at the village, most of which hadn’t even noticed her yet, being so preoccupied with their daily chores despite today being the most important day of Elizabeth’s life.

“In case you ‘adn’t noticed yet, because she took her bloody well time snoozin’, we present to you, lads ‘an ladies, our princess!” He yelled at the top of his lungs, and there was a loud cheer in response.

“They really did it!” Cheered some of the onlookers, most of the villagers stopped to gather around and gander at the kidnapped royal. “We got ourselves a princess, boys!”

The orcs loudly chattered amongst themselves, with none of the usual hushed tones Elizabeth was entitled to as a passing member of the royalty. She didn’t expect any of them to get down on their knees or bow, but she at least wished that they had some respect for her royal status besides gawking at her, even if she had no logical reason to be given it by such a primitive folk. Elizabeth was used to hearing her sisters laugh and openly remark about the appearances of their subjects, she herself gaining her reputation as graceful by remaining politely silent and merely smiling at them, even if they appeared quite uncouth, and was very much not used to being on the receiving end of others gawking at her own appearance.

“That’s her? I thought she’d be bigger, bein’ a princess ‘an all. ‘Ow’s she supposed t’ clobber ‘er foes in battle with a wee body like that?” Said one orc, to another quite loudly: scratching his chin and trying to figure out what was so royal about her.

“Yeah, ain’t they supposed ‘t be big ‘n powerful? Those humies keep goin’ on about how strong their kings ‘r supposed ‘t be ‘an how we should fear ‘em.”

“Human kings ‘n royalty ain’t like that, they’re big an’ strong ‘cause they get lotsa big ‘n strong humans to fight for ‘em, ‘an they can get whatever they want without havin’ ‘t go out ‘n hunt for it or do any favours ‘t anyone.” A particularly knowledgeable orc mixed into the crowd smugly corrected them, eager to show off his worldly knowledge bequeathed to him by his cousin Roga, who lived on the other side of the great river and encountered humans more often. Still, the other orcs continued to chatter openly.

“She’s ugly too. She’s got a weird nose, it’s all tiny, ‘an her chin’s all pointy! She got no meat on her bones too. She looks like she’s starvin’, the poor thing.”

“Id’jit! That’s beautiful for humans! That’s what me cousin says, anyway.” The knowledgeable orc said, admitting that he had to take it on good faith, as the princess was distinctly undatable to him.

“Really? Humans got bad taste.” Another commented, the others nodding in agreement. Elizabeth could of course hear them, and shot the nastiest glare she could at them. With the heavy-browed grimace that seemed to be their natural expression, at least to the fearful princess, her glare seemed to go unacknowledged.

“Ey, Nagul?” The orc who was dragging her asked, turning to one of the others. “What’s a cad?”

“What d’you mean, Balg?” His friend returned casually in the deep, gutteral voice typical of the orcs.



“Just now, she called me a cad, and I ain’t even know what that is.”

“Maybe it means ‘andsome.” Nagul laughed, Balg waving his free hand.

“Nah mate, I think it’s an insult. You think it’s better or worse than bein’ a scoundrel?” The slow-witted orc said, Elizabeth insulted that he barely

“It means you’re of distinctly low character!” Elizabeth loudly interjected, scowling at him.

“Oh.” Balg said. “I ain’t though, for yer information. “I never borrow me mates’ stuff without askin’ an’ me mum’s proud o’ me.”

“If you weren’t of low character, you wouldn’t have kidnapped me!” Elizabeth nearly shrieked at him, and he gave an apologetic look like he had almost forgotten.

“Ah, right. Sorry ‘bout that, yer ladyship.” He laughed along with the others. “Youse humans had it coming though, aye?”

“For what? Treating monsters like monster?” Elizabeth shot back. “Whatever complaints you might have, I should think that you all brought them upon yourselves!”

“‘Ey, you’re the ones who keep yellin’ about how you’re gonna wipe the lot of us out.” One of the raiding party retorted, having less humour about it than the others. “Tryin’ t’ push us out of our territory like there’s somethin’ wrong with us livin’ here.”

“Of course there’s something wrong with monsters living on human lands.” Elizabeth snarled. “Why, it’s just self-defence! Everybody knows about the savagery of orc armies, raping and pillaging their way through the lands!”

“That’s the northlanders, though. They’re a rough bunch aye, but even me grandmum ain’t talked to one of them, ‘an she said her grandad only met a few of ‘em once when they were passing through.” Nagul stated. “We ain’t had more than the odd spat in hundreds ‘o years, and we ain’t interested in fightin’ with you humans unless you’re startin’ something. This look like a war party ‘t you?”

He gestured around at the gathered orcs, and as beastly as they looked to her, they didn’t live up to her stereotype of orcs covered in enemy skulls and loose bits of iron armour strapped to themselves, nor did they seem to have hidden stashes of weapons or machines of war lying around. Elizabeth almost felt like she was being made out to be the bad guy here, even though she hadn’t harmed so much as a fly in her life, and fainted at the sign of blood. What good was there in taking revenge on her? She didn’t even know what they were going to do to her in the first place!

“A likely story from a biased source.” Elizabeth finally said, refusing to concede any fault. “Perhaps that’s how it appears from the perspective of brutes such as yourselves, but however we’ve behaved towards you, I’m sure it’s entirely warranted!”

“Whatever you say, missy.” The leader said, having little interest in the sheltered princess’s view of the world. He had heard claims that princesses like her rarely even went outside, and to him she sounded like one of the orc children who had never seen outside of the forest. “What’s yer name anyway, princess? I’m Ladrah, you’ve met Nagul an’ Balg, an’ I don’t think the rest ‘ave much interest in gettin’ ‘t know you after all that.”

“Princess Elizabeth of Sarimalia, if you must know.” Elizabeth said reluctantly. “And I’ve hardly any intention of getting to know any of you creatures either!”

“Eh, she’ll get used to it.” Balg said cheerfully. “I’m sure she’ll warm up to you lads.”

“I’d sooner throw myself off a cliff and die than befriend any of you horrible things!” Elizabeth declared, getting a dismissive round of grunts out of the others.

“You wanna bet anythin’ on that? Patience is one of me virtues.” Balg said with a toothy grin, leaving the delicate princess shuddering.

“Where are we going, anyway? I can only assume you intend on ravaging me, or otherwise despoiling me.” Elizabeth demanded to know as the crowd followed them to an unknown destination near the outskirts of the village. “Let it be known that laying a single finger on me will be repaid with losing an arm, and anything more will make you wish you were executed on the spot?”



“You an’ what army, miss?” Nagul snorted, but for once Elizabeth had a smug reply ready.

“The army coming to rescue me as we speak, of course!” She said proudly. “All the king’s knights and soldiers, all coming here to destroy you!”



“Nah, not the whole thing, they hate doin’ that.” Ladrah said, quickly deflating the proud princess. “You ain’t wanna fight us orcs on our home grounds, they’ve tried that ain’t it don’t go well for ‘em. They might send somebody but it ain’t gonna be that many.”



“Then a magnificent party of heroes!” Elizabeth tried to recover. “Led by the valiant sir Abel himself!”



“Who’s that supposed ‘t be?” One of the others asked, Elizabeth’s beautiful visage somewhat spoiled by it contorting in offence.

ot of you by himself!” She snapped, but the group seemed sceptical.

“Almost there, princess.” Ladrah said calmly, being passed to him by her current captor.

“Let me go, you, you-” Elizabeth started as she was taken by him, only to be cut off by him releasing his hand.

“Now what?” He asked the befuddled princess, and she was forced to finally stare him in the eyes, beholding his broad nose, thick brow, and huge canines poking past his lips. He had a powerful jaw despite the softness around it, and he certainly looked like Elizabeth’s idea of a leader, even if he was quite ugly. He had his hair done up in a ponytail that seemed like it had almost as much care put into it as her own constantly brushed mane, and the fact that he had clear, focused eyes caused her to be instantly flustered.

“W-what do you mean what now?” She asked, shuffling her feet awkwardly. “You’re just going to grab me again if I try to escape.”



“No, I won’t.” He declared, the gathered orcs looking on curiously to see where this was going. “Yer free to go, princess.”

“You’re lying.”



“I ain’t.”



“W-well, alright then.” Elizabeth coughed, looking around. “Laugh all you like when you try to seize me, I won’t be surprised! It’ll take more than this to give me false hope!”



“I just got one question for you first before you leave, yer highness.” He said, forcing her to meet his eyes again. “Where’re you going?”



Elizabeth blinked a few times in confusion.

“W-what do you mean? I’m going home, of course.” She said unsteadily.

“”’An which direction is home?”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened. She had been passed out for most of her kidnapping, and didn’t have the chance to know where she even came from. She had just woken up in an unfamiliar location, and that was that.

“I’ll figure that out later.” She coughed. “Once I find some, uh, landmarks and a road.”

“I see.” He said, crossing his arms. “So, which way’ll you be goin’ first? You ain’t seem like an expert on findin’ yer way to me, but they tell me princesses are supposed ‘t be smart.”

“It’ll be, uh…” Elizabeth tried to guess which way as the entrance to the village. If there was an entrance, surely even savages like them would have some sort of road, or path that made it easy for them to get in and out. She pointed in her best guess, which was back the way they had been walking. Her hut was the “start” of the village to her, and thus was her impulsive way back. “That way!”

“If you keep goin’ that way you’ll run into wolves, missy.” Ladrah pointed out. “Ain’t too big of a problem for an orc, but for you…”



“I would have figured that out immediately!” She said defensively, and pointed in a random direction. “I’ll start that way then! I’ll just be circling this place until I find a road anyway.”

“That way’s to the river.” He said. “‘An we ain’t got any of your human roads.”

“Then which way is it?” She demanded to know, flushed red with embarrassment.

“Why’re you askin’ me? I’m your kidnapper.” He shrugged. “Why would I help you escape?”

“You, you scoundrel! Don’t you dare try to mock me! I’ll not have you insulting a member of the royal family any further!” She tried to slap him, but he easily bobbed just out of her reach.

“I’m just sayin’, if you wander off on your own, we’ll be the ones savin’ you, not yer knights or whatsit.” He said, and Elizabeth drooped, the energy going out of her.

“Just get it over with then.” She whimpered softly, but received no gloating in return. In fact, he seemed slightly irritated by something.

“I would, but that good-fer-nothin’ shaman’s taking his damn time!” He said loudly, causing an oddly dressed orc to rush out of a nearby house. He was covered in tribal necklaces of carved wood, with paint on his body and a number of symbols she didn’t recognise covering him. He certainly looked like a shaman, but his oddest feature was that he was wearing what appeared to be a pair of human-sized spectacles that were awkwardly bent at the bridge to fit onto his wide nose.

“Keep yer pants on, I’m coming, I’m coming!” He said, still throwing on one last necklace. “I was still getting set up!”

“You probably got drunk ‘n overslept.” Ladrah accused: the shaman looking guilty and trying to avoid meeting his gaze. “Whatever, as long as it’s ready.”

“Took me hours, but aye, it is.” The shaman said.

“”Ey, Sodran, what’s that weird thing you got on your face?” Balg asked, pointing at the spectacles.

“Oh, these?” He said proudly, adjusting them with one of his fat fingers. The lenses had been clearly popped out, probably when the orc realised he couldn’t see a thing through them. “They’re a human thing. They make me look sophisticated!”



“Wow, sophisticated! It sure does!” Balg was impressed, repeating the large word. “What’s sophisticated mean?”

“Is it ready or not?” Ladrah asked impatiently. “In case you ain’t noticed, we got the whole tribe watchin’!”

“Yeah, get on with it!” Somebody called, a courage of agreements thundering from them.

“Quiet! Of course it’s ready!” Sodran insisted, pointing to a patch in the dirt where some sort of enormous and detailed symbol had been scrawled. “Just make sure none of you step on it or I’ll have to do it again!”

Before Elizabeth could ask what was going on she was swept off her feet and placed in the middle of the circle by Ladrah, her legs turning feeble and refusing to run to safety or try to wipe away whatever this obvious magical procedure was. She was terrified of what they might do to her if she did, and it felt pointless when they could just set it up again.

“Behold, all of you!” The shaman yelled at the onlooking crowd, his decorations jangling and his great belly covered in shamanic symbols wobbling. While his tone of voice was rough, he seemed to put more effort into his speech patterns than the others, and had the air of a show-off in general. “I shall now create for us a princess of our own, using the oldest and greatest of orc magic, dating back to the time of the very first orc! It is said that-”

“Get on with it, fancy-pants!” One heckled him, but it seemed to be in good spirits, and there was an atmosphere of excitement amongst the tribe. Elizabeth couldn’t summon the strength to ask what was going to happen to her, and merely watched as he began to speak rapidly in a primitive, rumbling language, performance a strange sort of dance that caused the lines around her to begin to glow. His words rose in intensity until he was practically shouting, and Elizabeth began to feel strange, and now totally frozen in place. He shouted one final word, and with that, Elizabeth shuddered, and her transformation began.

Elizabeth’s skin began to darken from its almost porcelain whiteness, colour filling it in splotches that rapidly thickened and spread across the body until it had turned a deep green, contrasting heavily with her white dress. She felt her teeth start to thicken and broaden, and two sharp tusk-like canines began to press into the inside of her mouth, forcing her to open her mouth and let the bottom ones escape, now resting on her puffy green-tinted upper lip. She felt her narrow chin broaden, her jaw widening and cracking as her neck widened to match, her shoulders already broadening as the ground grew steadily further away from her. She felt her soft slippers rip as her feet burst out of it, increasing in size while her sleeves grew taut then began to tear themselves, her dainty, slender arms starting to ripple with muscle that soon left her as brawny as any meatheaded knight back at the castle. Her fingernails thickened while her digits themselves swelled to twice their original thickness, the coarse green skin on them making them suitable for tearing apart anything she could place between them.

Her hips were next to grow, exploding outward in what seemed like initially a powerful hourglass, only for her waist to fill in as well leaving her with barely any curve and a powerfully built torso that already had hardened muscle definition that would make a bodybuilder jealous. Her chest didn’t seem to grow much, but the pectorals around it were well defined, making them seem larger by comparison. Overall her shoulders broadened to be twice as wide as when she started, not as wide as the male orcs, but on par with the average female. She reached dizzying heights as she realised that her now chunky legs had given her several feet of height, almost as tall as the group that had escorted her, who all seemed less overwhelmingly burly compared to her now. Her dress was already being torn to rags and finally gave out, torn to shreds by her torso and collapsing entirely, her hips bursting out of it and causing the long dress to fall to the ground, leaving he entirely naked as her bra and panties had been the first thing to go. Luckily, modesty wasn’t something that was cared about too much amongst the orcs, but still she felt humiliated.

While she had maintained her beautiful face up to now, even with rough skin, a green pallor, and a manlier jaw, it couldn’t last forever, and she could feel her nose broadening and growing, curling upwards to give her a piggish look between its large size and her broad nostrils. Her brow thickened to become distinctly unfeminine, at least by human standards, with thick eyebrows and a powerful visage. Hulking and muscular, powerfully built, and thick as an ox, even without a good look at her face, Elizabeth could tell that she had been turned into what could only be an orc.

Her throat dry, unable to summon any words, Elizabeth stared down at her green skin and huge body, wondering if she should make an effort to cover her naked body, instead merely looking at her broad hands and shuddering as the stunned crowd stared on in silence. With the glow of the magical circle dying down, the shaman seemed to release his tension and slowly approached her, offering her what appeared to be a cracked human hand-mirror. Her hands shaking, she looked at herself in it, seeing her ghastly face, her pig-like nose, her beastly teeth, and even her lustrous hair had turned thick and matted, able to withstand much more punishment at the expense of her elegance.

Normally, Elizabeth would have fainted. In fact, she wanted to, desperately wishing to simply collapse where she stood and mentally delay having to deal with her life being shattered before her eyes, her pride destroyed and her status humiliated. But her new orc brain wouldn’t allow it, having no such mechanism for her. It instead responded the way any orc would: with slowly bubbling and boiling anger, aggression towards her captors that the cowardly princess otherwise would never have been able to muster. She still couldn’t speak, and she began to overhear the other orcs whisper, each seemingly unwilling to break the silence compared to their loud banter before.

“It really worked! I owe Ograth half a deer!”



“Wow, she’s awful pretty, those humans ain’t lyin’ about princesses!”



“Ain’t she still kinda skinny though? I ain’t never seen a lady like that.”



“Eh, give ‘er time, we can fix that.”

“That’ll show them humans who’s boss! Their princess is ours now! I told ya this was a good idea!”

“So, uh, what now?”



That last one, despite being the most innocuous, was too much for Elizabeth, who was forced to acknowledge the fact that her life would continue to go on., and with a sudden burst of strength she seized the shaman, lifting him high into the air with ease. She could practically smell his panic, her sensitive new nose filled with new scents and sensations as the rank-smelling village no longer seemed to smell so disgusting, entirely tolerable now with her new sensibilities. She could smell the sweat on him and herself, and it only engaged her more.

“Fix it! Change me back!” She snarled in her new deep voice, guttural and lacking the lyrical tones of her old one. “Make me human again! Not this hideous thing! Do it! Do it!”

She began to shake him, turning hysterical and shouting as she impressed the others with her immediate show of strength. It seemed that an orc was an orc, regardless of whether she was one to begin with.

“I-I can’t! It’s not designed to!” He gasped, although he didn’t entirely mind being treated like this by a pretty lady orc. “And even if it could

“Somebody who’s stronger than the l, we wouldn’t! That’s what your royal family gets for trying to run us out of our homes, attacking us whenever they see us!”

Elizabeth dropped him to the ground with a thud, wiping out some of the patterns far too late. Huge tears welled up in her eyes, and eventually, she simply started wailing, an ugly sound from the newly christened orc, running away as fast as she could with thundering footsteps towards the hut where she had woken up. She barrelled through the crowd, knocking anybody in her way aside until she finally reached it and slammed the door shut, throwing herself onto bed. Her head felt fuzzy, reduced to the lower intelligence of an orc, causing her to be even more incapable of forming some sort of plan. There had to be a way to fix this, to turn herself back into the beautiful princess she had been just a few minutes earlier! There had to be…