Cuthbert's Vision!

A pair of mysterious strangers, in the shadows, eavesdrop over this conversation between elf and human woman. One at least (the smarter of the two by quiet a bit) smiles.

The other one is pouting.

"I still say I want to change her into Suzie," the duller, slower one says to the other, in mindspeak.

The dull one then freezes in pain, unable to draw breath as the brighter one stabs out in annoyance. A mindbolt, if you will, has frozen the other in place by immmense pain.

"Oh, like what had been done to you one time by that Dr. Hashimoto," the brighter one chuckles mirthlessly into the struggling other. "A sex starved, bubble headed nymph, right? Tell me again why I put up with you?"

So hard to get good help nowadays, the brighter one sighs to himself.

"Now shut up and listen," he growls. "It is my turn for fun. Hey, knock yourself out with the others after I'm done. My treat!"

That mollifies the duller one, the one who calls himself Scott Chen.

Flag fingers the last slice of stolen Eden fruit, thinking to himself what a nice and lovely centerpiece this one shall make!

"According to the legends," the elf says, looking up at the red haired Amazon woman, "Humans have one quality that we lack. If you have that quality, then you may be able to carry out a vital mission for us. That quality is: a high resistance to magic."

"This world must be very different to my own, then," Astra said.

She then twitches, feeling the beginnings of the Change, courtesy of one Flagg.

Astra feels her form flow and shift. Shrink.

Varonir gasps as the human woman shrinks down into a very shapely, lovely woman of his own species. This Astra still looked somewhat like she had (still striking, especially the red hair), but she now was dress like a ranger (albeit in a rather flimsy costume of your average wood elf ranger). If the armor she now wore wasn't magical, at least it was . . . er. . . striking.

Then, for no reason at all Varonir could discern, the red haired elfin woman before him . . . draws her weapons and starts . . . dancing?

Yeah, it looks like whatever special mission he'd been able to use for this now elfin woman just got put to paid, but . . . Varonir is still a person in need. He never would turn his back on one in need...

And that is about the time when the lights go out for the noble elf. This is something like what he last sees before he blacks out (courtesy of Flagg, again):

http://www. geocities.com /weaveworlder2002 /Pictures/ Aialia.jpg

Note: image created by John Cressman. Credit where credit due.

When he and the others awaken . . . they're . . .different.

Simpler but lovely.

And, to be blunt about it . . . very horny.

But that part of the Touch that Cuthbert (a Gunslinger and Champion) cuts out before much detail is revealed.

Instead, he sees the Demon and still dancing elfin woman appear in a place Cuthbert knows (but doesn't know how he knows) is Stryke's estate.

"Ah Stryke," Flagg smiles (hiding his distain behind a merry mask). "Got the crowning centerpiece for your . . . menagerie."

After all, what's a bunch of 'Freds' without at least one 'Astra', Flagg chuckles to himself as he floats the elfin woman into the center of the dancing taboo.

Of course, right after he'd fed that Eden fruit slice to the till dancing elfin lass, causing her to reflexively swallow it down, sealing her fate to forevermore to be an elfin lass. Not even death now, for her...

He then notes that one of the dancers is crying (despite the look of ecstasy on her lovely face). It was that three foot tall nymph, formerly named Hannah!

Examining the situation, magically, his smile then becomes genuine.

"You have potential," he smiles. "I like that. I'll keep that in mind, next time. Ta-ta!"

And without any more, the Demon vanishes and Cuthbert snaps out of it.

"And then there were five," he says softly, looking at the others.

He quickly explains what he saw, and consulting that Red Tome confirms yet ANOTHER dancer!

"Time to move," Artizza commandes, getting the mages to pull out their magic rugs (and causing Belboz to stare at them strangely).

"What are those supposed to do?!" he grumps, still upset over the dragon's death (and a rather final put to paid to dreams). "What can those things do?"

1. "They fly," Exotica says simply, causing her rug to rise a foot off the ground.

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