[TF - Kobold, TG, Multiple] [Fantasy]

A tattered, beaten bound book found in a market stall. It gives off a faint magic hum to any sensitive nearby. The shopkeep called it “The Last Journal of Tetheran”.

The handwriting for much of the book is soft and flowing. The first few pages describe a Holy Paladin of Thenop, the Elven god of Crusading. Tetheran, this paladin, had taken “crusading” to mean “adventuring and plundering gold from distant caves and tombs”. The early pages describes out he found a small group to associate with consisting of Barton, a human wizard, Lipthar, a dragonborn monk following the Order of the Night Flame, and Jin, an amusing bard who seemed to be quite popular with the men and ladies anywhere they went. Flipping forward through the journal, you notice the text suddenly changes to a scratchy, erratic penmanship, progressively becoming illegible. Turning back to when it seems to start, you find the following entries:

24th of Tend, 44th Year of Rod:

Thenop be praised! This latest den was a success! I hardly contain my excitement as I write this. The kobolds, vile beasts they are, that gathered here seemed far too lazy and lethargic to defend their own home and treasure. My friends and I dealt with the evil beasts in short order, though Lipthar did protest and tried to speak with them in the tongue of their common ancestor, the draconic speech. They seemed uninterested, and possibly rendered too unintelligent to understand their own language! No matter. The hoarde they “protected” ever so lax was great and vast, stretching back caverns and caverns. The amount was so great we decided to separate our team to recover it successfully. Barton and I shall remain here: his illusions and my rebukes shall be sufficient to guard the treasure, while Lipthar and Jin carry forward to the next village to borrow caravans to haul it all out. Truly, this is a sign from Thenop we do his work.

25th of Tend, 44th Year of Rod:

Barton is not yet awake. We decided to rest down in the antechamber to the treasure caverns. I rose early from my meditation, as though a great fire was consuming my flesh. I have lived for a great many years already, and I have never felt a similar sensation before. I am concerned, but will trust in Thenop’s blessing. This find is evidence of my faith, and I must hold true.

27th of Tend, 44th Year of Rod:

The kobolds had gathered stores of food, and for two people they are exceedingly sufficient. In the dark of the cave, it is hard to tell but I believe we have both gone bald. A strange matter, but one which neither of us finds with great concern. Stranger things happen in the wild, and the allure of the hoard we guard is sufficient distraction. Barton too has complained of a great fire in him. We'll hold strong, though we hope our companions arrive soon.

30th of Tend, 44th Year of Rod:

It has become clear we are cursed. The fire consuming our bodies at night has only grown more intense, and yesterday, merely looking at each other cemented the truth that something had gone wrong. Smooth curved horns had sprouted from the top of Barton's head, not dissimilar to a ram. His skin had grown green scales in the night, and a thick tail swung from behind him. He claims similar changes have befallen myself, with minor differences: my horns apparently are far more straight but are covered in rough jagged edges, and purple scales cover my body. We spent the day in quiet contemplation, reflecting on what this meant for our lives, and for our friends. Surely, the treasure is to fault for this, and having all taken some, we must all be under this curse together. It was only today I could bring myself to observe these changes in this journal, though why I chronicle this descent I do not know.

1st of Lant, 44th Year of Rod:

We clearly have become kobolds in all external features. Long, articulated snouts leading to a heavily fanged mouth, large and finned ears that pick up the faintest sounds echoing in our cave, and eyes appropriate for seeing in such great darkness. Under our new tough and leathery scales, thick and powerful muscles remain coiled. Even Barton, our wizard companion looks as though he could win a fight against Lipthar, who studied martial arts his entire life. Yet, his connection to the arcane has only grown stronger with his newfound draconic blood. He is reaching spells formerly unattainable by his mind. I have fared less well. The new claws adorning our hands have made my old shield and sword ungainly. My legs have bent and left me more hunched to use them effectively anyway. I found many small bombs, designed to be thrown with ease, as well as broken half sword who's hilt is knobbled and fits my grip with ease. I worry for our friends and family how they face this change on their own. At least we're safe in our new home.

5th of Lant, 44th Year of Rod:

I must take a break from mine and Barton's mating to journal our latest changes. An incredible desire swept over both of us the night of my last entry, and we silently agreed to assist each other. We found ourselves unable to grow erect, but still found pleasure as we continued to our best efforts. The curse wasn't done with us, however, and we found our hips forming soft and round, and our rears forming the softest pillows ever appropriate on a lady. Our chests pushed each other apart as we grew feminine fruits of a large size, larger than most kobolds ever have. Before we knew it, our most private members had been replaced by that of a woman's. The night was long and enjoyable, and we have kept up these activities the last few days, hardly pausing to eat. Our desire seems to be fading though, letting us start to live a more normal life, at least during the day.

7th of Lant, 44 Year of Rod:

Rejoyce, our friends have returned! It appears as though the curse struck them during their travels, but they have arrived in good health! They found us wearing rags and attire befitting the kerbolds we cleared out, while they had traveled at night as they had no clothes suitable for their forms. Lipthar looked far more wild, his body completely overrun with ridges and fins, and only walked on all fours. Perhaps a mixture of the curse with his dragon heritage, Barton guessed. He seemed of sound mind, but language proved difficult for him. He definitely had remained male, and seemed to only benefit in that department as the curse took him. He may have caught me staring, I will have to apologize later, in private. Jin seemed strangely changed by the curse. His scales had a much more glossy appearance, almost appearing like the exotic material they call rubber. His “rubberscale” was hypnotically chromatic, and seems to capture the mind of nearby travelers, and the curse seemed to give him the physical means to please any men or women he finds. They haven't attacked, and seem content with the changes occuring. Perhaps we have a way to coexist here now. Our horde grows with donations from the travelers, and before long we'll have a small tribe again. I don't know when, or if I will write again. Holding a pen has become tiring in this new form. So I leave on this message: We are peaceful, and welcome all who want a new life.