Maribel watched in dismay as Jesarin, following through on her threat, uncorked the potion and took a drink. Just as she had finished and re-corked the vial however, she was knocked back by an angry green blur. Gresha, having managed to procure and drink one of the normal health potions, was back on her feet and eager to finish what she had started with the other bandits. Having shoulder-checked the startled mage, she advanced further after her target collided with a nearby boulder. Her back now against it, Jesarin brandished her staff, but Gresha was already upon her, ripping it from her grasp, throwing it aside, and pinning her wrists against the rock.
“No more tricks,” the orc growled, tightening her grip and baring her teeth. To her surprise however, Jesarin continued to only smile in response. Since Gresha had been virtually incapacitated for the last few moments, she hadn’t yet caught a glimpse of her traveling companion’s new form, and thus hadn’t realized what previously happened with the strange glowing potion.
“Uh, Greshie...?” Maribel stammered uneasily. “I’m not sure that’s a good—”
She was cut off by a sharp grunt coming from the mouth of the latest partaker of the potion, followed by the peculiar sound of leather being strained, as though trying in vain to stretch. Gresha watched in bewilderment as Jesarin’s arms, still locked against the boulder, began to pulse and inflate in diameter, slowly approaching the size of her own. The orc also felt her grip slide up the rock, as though the elf’s body was being lifted upward. Try as she might, she couldn’t keep it from moving.
“Mmmmmmnnngh by the SPIRITS!” Jesarin’s grunts melted into sensual moans as her transformation accelerated. Her arms broadened to match, then exceed Gresha’s, hardening into heavy, tightly packed biceps. The leather seams holding her jerkin together began to pop apart, put under further strain from all directions. Bolstered by her elongating frame, her head rose to meet the orc’s, then pass it, as Gresha now struggled to reach her wrists and maintain her grip. Her eyes now level with the elf’s rumbling chest, she caught a faceful of cleavage as Jesarin’s tits burst through her shirt, tearing it into tatters while also revealing dense, cobblestone abs.
Stepping back and releasing her grip, Gresha found herself doing something she rarely did: looking up to meet the gaze of the elf, once possessing the body of a slender, ordinary-sized mage, now sporting that of a 7’8” voluptuous, amazonian barbarian, further accentuated by the remaining furs still clinging to her form, along with her flowing mane of forest-green hair fluttering majestically in the breeze and framing her beautified face.
“Oh don’t worry, little orc,” Jesarin finally replied in a sultry tone. “With this body, I won’t need any more ‘tricks’ for you.”
Gresha turned to reach for her axe, but Jesarin was quicker than she looked, grabbing her and hoisting her clear above her head before slamming her back onto the ground, kicking up a few pounds of dirt in the impact.
Raising her foot, she prepared to stomp on Gresha’s head, but winced as she felt a sudden, sharp pain in her shoulder. Looking down, she noticed the crossbow bolt now sticking out of her, then traced its path to the source: the not-so-halved halfling, who had recovered her weapon.
Maribel grinned in triumph at the successful hit, but it faded as she watched Jesarin casually pull it out and snap it into splinters with her fingers. What would have been a much more significant wound to anyone else was now superficial to her, as it failed to puncture her hardened body much deeper than skin-level.
The brutish mage approached her menacingly, but Maribel sprang back and maintained her distance, expertly loading another round in the crossbow and firing, striking Jesarin’s other shoulder. Her frown deepened as she pulled this bolt out and crumbled it like the first.
“I’m perfectly fine with fighting at a distance, Ms. Queen of Boobs!” Maribel taunted. “Hope you enjoy being a giant pincushion!”
Jesarin continued to glare, but caught a familiar object in the corner of her eye. Bending down, she picked up her staff, now closer to a long wand relative to her size.
“Contrary to what it may look like now, but I am also quite familiar with fighting at a distance,” Jesarin replied, focusing her gaze onto the weapon now in her hand. The crystal at the head of the staff began to glow, but at a greater luminosity than ever before, as an aura of energy began surrounding the entirety of the hilt as well.
“I’m not just feeling stronger in body, but in spirit as well!” Jesarin intoned, further channeling her mana into the crystal and leveling it in Maribel’s direction as the ranger backed away warily.. “I could take on an archmage with the power I feel, maybe more! Now...how would you like a taste?”
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