Campaign of the Month: November 2018

The Red Hand

Samira's adventure log

or that time where I should've thought about it some more

Well, we’re back at the Academy from our recent adventure and in need of a much deserved rest.

A rest consisting of getting back into our oh-so-much exciting chores of scrubbing, sweeping, laundry…ing.

Gods I’m BORED! And when I’m bored, I make the gods despair and weep, for I start THINKING.

So I spent all my down time exploring possibilities with my newfound ring, called Cursed Ring of Kren the Arcane, which basically makes me an honorary member of the Corpse Corps when activated. CURSED. Ha! Sounds like a challenge to me!

It started with harmless pranks, of course. It’s outrageous how many security spells rely on heat-sensitive triggers for instance. Spells Theofyr seems to favor, too. So a night ruffling through his personal lab, switching random ingredients from one jar to another helped me get through my first night back at the Academy. The resulting explosions and chaotic side effects cheered me up the following day.

I cranked up my next challenge with sneaking into the Necromancy School’s servants’ quarters and trying to organize a dancing musical for the evening feast, with mixed reviews (I should not have triggered the dancing number when they had plates in their hands. My bad).

But the testament to my greatness, this divine epiphany of pure genius occurred to me on the fifth day of routine hell, when I was sifting through spell scrolls for last-minute shopping. I discovered a “useless” spell called Sculpt Corpse in which the caster could alter the appearance of any corpse to anything imaginable. Permanently! Such a pathetic spell in the hand of any wizard… but not THIS one! I simply had to turn myself into a corpse, perform the spell, and I could do something some wizards spend their WHOLE lives trying to accomplish.

Ohhh the possibilities. I knew that some people drool in their sleep, but I raised the bar for doing such a feat while daydreaming, no less!

My mental masturbation was soon interrupted by a call to a council of the heads of each magic schools in which was had to act like servants and not speak, which did not help me focus on the conversation. I remember some grumbling and some back and forth between the heads and something about divination not being an exact something. You know, the usual exciting scholar speak.
My suicidal fantasies were washed away when I heard something about us going back to Whadi for an auction to locate the trinket that was stolen from under our nose last week. There was also some talk about going two days after we came back, even though a week passed, which seemed to startle my fellow scribes for some reason (Time travelling, in the Greatest Center of Magic in the whole world? Gasp! We need to clutch our pearls and reach for our smelling salts! Quick!).

We were to infiltrate the auction and investigate any lead that could point us to the little thieves. Infiltrate. INFILTRATE! I definitely heard that word at some point in the council! Some might say it was myself repeatedly mumbling it with a stupid grin on my face, but these are irrelevant details for the situation at hand, for we were gonna INFILTRATE somewhere to do something! Yessss!

We made some last minute preparations and were teleported back to the Tooth and Hookah to a surprised innkeeper, ready to rent our rooms to other customers since we left two days ago without a word. Two days. Yay for time travelling! Theofyr’s leg bones should be liquefying (for my second time!) right about now!

I excused myself to our band, saying I had urgent matters to attend to and would not be able to attend the auction tonight. I was perplexed at the collective sigh of relief the scribes made at the news, but chucked it off to my inability to hide a shit-eating grin during the conversation. They probably felt bad for the four non-existent whores I would vomit on… It’s like that joke about Sam and his son, looking out at his land, saying to him. “See that fence, Son? I built it with my own two hands. Do they call me Sam the Fence Builder? Nooooo! See this barn, Son? I built it with my own hands, too! To they call my Sam the Barn Builder? Noooooo! But you fuck ONE goat…” I hope one day not to be Sam in the eyes of my gang one day. But I digress. Time for Samir’s makeover!

I quickly exited the tavern and made my way to the nearest back alley to test this new superpower of mine. I must admit I was too excited to think things through though, for the first thing that popped in my mind was to transform into a lady (nobody would recognize me so I could roam the auction, looking for that bitch who sprayed me with acid last week. My prime suspect in the theft of the trinket last week 3 two days ago). But not just a lady. A GORGEOUS one. One like in the fairy tales… or those in the carvings above the whorehouse doors you see often when having to go through neighbours of ill repute when you erm… get lost on the way to church.

I visualized my new form and opened the scroll to perform my first feat of great magic, but stopped before reading, for an intrusive thought crept up on me… that of having a vagina and having to deal with blood, cramps, and randomly having ten different personalities. No, thank you! So I made the decision to keep my appendage, but to optimize it because, you know, I’m Samir Goldentongue. But I’m proud of myself this time, for I made it only to down to my ankle.

…I should’ve made a point of not making it this long… while flaccid though. More on that later.

Having a good image of my new self firmly in my head, I opened toe scroll and cast the spell. SUCCESS! It worked marvellously!

I had boobs now! BOOBS!!!! I exited the alley into the main street and I stopped by a street vendor to eat something and kill time before the auction. I must admit I was a little too excited at the prospect of having breasts, for I soon started fondling myself right there, to the amazement of the vendor and patrons around. Feeling generous, I invited all of them to touch the merchandise. Even in a woman’s (upper) body, I still couldn’t figure out the big deal of fondling strangers’ breasts. I mean, they’re fun bags! Why not share and make the world a better place! I even got to eat for free! Ha!

Soon after I saw my band of scribes leaving the inn, I quickly went into my room to put on the dress I mysteriously woke up on some nights before when I celebrated with the Haflings gang. I was READY for some infiltratin’!

Of course, I still had fun fondling myself on the way to the auction, but this time I got an erection for my troubles. On the one hand, having a phallus proudly sticking out of your dress 3 feet above your head on a busy street makes for some awkwardness, but I’m an optimist, and quickly felt relieved I wasn’t wearing pants this time. I will have to buy more of these scrolls in the near future and correct this slight flaw I’m having.

Thankfully, I went flaccid before entering the auction house and started mingling with the crowd. I must admit I’m rather proud with myself for my disguise, for none of the scribes recognized me, which I took as an invitation to be overly flirting with them. My plan was to make them touch my boobs before revealing myself to them, which would entertain me to no end for at least two or three days, but we were interrupted by a surprise zombie attack, along with crawling hands. The zombies attacked the crowd of civilians without prejudice, but our band dispatched them easily and were about to win the night until a mummy emerged from the backroom (where all the stuff to be sold was stored… stuff left UNGUARDED! Teehee-heeeee) and joined the fray.

I blame my new female form for what happened next, for I became paralysed with fear at the sight of it and couldn’t move. Thank the gods I didn’t faint, too!

After shaking the fear off my tits, I quickly gulped down a potion of invisibility to the undead, but it failed to trick the mummy and it attacked me, hurting me badly. My mind raced to find a solution and on a whim, I activated my “cursed” ring to become an undead. It worked! The mummy lost interest in me to look for living targets, giving me respite. The tide turned yet again to our favor and I quickly ran into the back storage room and grabbed any small items I could to stuff into my generous cleavage before exiting. I finally pilfered stuff for my own benefit! Yay Samira!

As the group surveyed the damage around them, I joined them and revealed myself to them, to the shock of them all. My scribes are growing up to be powerful battle mages, but there is still work to do, as they were still scared from the fight to sample my newly acquired goods, even after many invitations. Oh well.

As we made our way to the Tooth and Hookah, the sounds of battles and screams of terror came from everywhere in the city, signaling similar attacks through Whadi. Our group of heroes decided to patrol the streets around our inn to help the guards and we soon came upon a tipped waggon where zombies and ghouls were busy eating their occupants. I didn’t lose time and used my second most prized possession on the undead, unleashing a fireball that hit right in the middle of them, thus facilitating our victory for a second time within an hour! I even finished one of them myself with a Disrupt Undead spell! ME! We’re the Mewling Quims no more! Yay!

When the threat was gone, I quickly searched the wagon and found a secret compartment on my own! Finally! I’m useful! Samir. Is, USEFUL!

Now we are back in our inn, discussing for a strategy. I’m sure our scribes will find the best course of action within the next month, so no worries there from me. I’m more worried on the side effects of my present predicaments, for I just came back from the outhouse and my poop is noodle-thin. Next time I’ll make my waist larger…


Imagine… he just messing around level 2 spells. I don’t think Lyria is ready of a Samir playing around with level 9 spells. Scary… :|

Samira's adventure log

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Samira's adventure log

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Samira's adventure log

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Samira's adventure log

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