| "I'd - I'd definitely like to know why you've done this, yes," Fred
said, still in shock not only at his appearance, but from the sound of
a sweet young girl's high contralto coming from his mouth.
"You see, young man - uh, young lady - oh, whoever. You see, you are the fulfillment of prophecy. The kingdom is threatened by a dire force." "Yes, the dragon - the one I came here to slay and asked you for help with, remember?" Fred tried to cross his arms, but found himself embarassed by certain obstacles not encountered before. "And - and quite frankly, I don't see how this helps one..." "Oh, pshaw," Belboz scoffed. "There's no dragon." "Yes there is!" Fred protested. "The king sent me out here to.." "Only because I planted the evidence. No, my friend, dragons generally don't concern themselves with humans - too much trouble, y'know. No," the necromancer paced as he went on, "There's an ancient prophecy about a great power that will destroy the kingdom, unless it's met by, and I quote, 'A great man of warrior class, who wears the form of a lithesome lass'. That's you. I knew to fight a so-called 'rampaging dragon', His Majesty would send his best warrior. From there it was a simple matter to maneuver you here to cast the spell of metamorphosis on you." Sir Fred had several questions at this point, but the foremost one was, "And who or what is this terrible force?" Belboz stopped pacing, turned to the warrior-lass and said somberly:
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