The crone watched as the bodies of the two girls stirred back to
consciousness. The one with the collar marked "Freda" moaned softly and
started to sit up. "What happened?" she asked, raising a delicate hand to her forehead. "There was a wizard and - and - and..." She blinked and bolted upright. "Seven hells! It wasn't a dream!" The commotion finished waking the other girl. "By my mother's sword! I remember! What has that wretched lout done to us?!?" "Which lout is that?" the crone asked, stepping forward. The two girls turned quickly to face her, dropping (incredibly and amusingly, she thought) into fighting stances. When they saw her, though, they relaxed fractionally. "Are you the one we have to thank for returning our minds to us?" Astra asked. "I am," she said. "My name is Norla, and I am a retired sorceress from the service of Count Sheffal. The moment you two came to my door, I could tell someone had you under a control spell of some sort. I was able to break it, but there was an underlying transformative I was not quite able to countermand. Am I correct in stating that these are not your true forms?" "You could say that. I am Lord Frederigo D'Honaire, of the kingdom of Allaria, and she is the Princess Astra of Aquilaria!" Briefly, Fred and Astra explained how they had initially arrived on the path in the strange woods, their encounter with Pronklezilch, and their subsequent transformation to stone, then fleshly, bawdy girls. "I know of Pronklezilch," Norla said. "He's quite powerful, and he dispenses his magic quite capriciously. I don't know what his motive was for sending you back here, but he could have just as easily left you statues forever - or sent you to some brothel, where you'd have been perfectly happy being bawdy girls for the rest of your lives." "I'll kill that wizard!" Fred muttered, pacing back and forth. "That might be difficult, with these bodies," Astra said glumly. Their formerly toned and powerful physiques were gone, replace by petite, voluptuous bodies obviously designed more for pleasuring than battle - she even noted that Fred was, unconsciously, still moving and walking much more like the bawdy girl he'd become than the warrior he'd once been. "But," she added, an idea forming, "Maybe if we went back to him, not letting on that we had our memories back...?" Fred paused, considering it.
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1/2/2005 11:16:01 PM
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