The Changeling
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A Day Of Change free porn video
A Day of Change
By Lynn LeFey
Hengrithor sat at the table sloshing the last of his stew in his bowl with
the thick horn spoon. His wrists and ankles were still throbbing from too
much walking, too much riding, and too much swordplay. He was getting too
old to pound his body this hard any more. By the Gods, he'd only seen thirty
winters. How did the elves live so long? He was tired of the 'adventuring'.
Adventuring. Maybe it was time to give up life as a tomb raider... dungeon
crawler... whatever you want to call it. There was no doubt that it made good
money. Their last expedition had garnered so much loot that they'd loaded
down two mules with the coins alone... and even THAT was after pitching out
the copper and half the silver. It was the pains involved. Not the pulled
muscles, or the blood, and the Gods know there was plenty of that. It was
finding men, or their like, shackled in some hellish hole, starving,
suffering. It was staring into the lifeless eyes of your comrades who
miss stepped or drew the attention of some wicked beasty. It was losing
friends.
Hengrithor didn't see himself as a great hero of the land. He was just the
guy with a sharpened chunk of steel, and the guts to face down a dragon. He
knew he wasn't the brightest either. Balatra and Cabrigan were the thinkers.
When he had just come out of the rank and file of the Lord's armies, it had
just been him, and for a few years, he went nowhere. Then, in what he had
always considered his best stroke of luck, he met Dentriel.
Dentriel was a halfblood... mixed with the Fey, which made him thin and ...
well... honestly, Hengrithor always thought he looked... easily breakable. But
to his credit, he was fast, and an uncanny archer. More than that, while
Balatra had great knowledge from book learning, and Cabrigan was certainly a
wise man... Dentrial had something else... what cat's have. He always landed on
his feet. He was a consummate opportunist. He was tricky, sneaky, sly,
almost evil in his ingenuity. And he was fearless.
Cabrigan entered the tavern, coming down the stairs from their room. They
were so wealthy now, Hengrithor couldn't even remember the last time he had
gotten fleas from an inn. Cabrigan was their Holy Man. When they were out of
the holes, Cabrigan almost always looked happy, glowing with some inner
truth that Hengrithor never understood.
'Did... Did you speak with him?' Hengrithor began.
'I spoke with... Yes, we spoke.' Cabrigan said softly as he sat down beside
Hengrithor.
'And?'
'And Dentriel's mind will not be swayed. The Curse will not be lifted.'
Cabrigan sighed and hefted himself up. Hengrithor went back to staring at
his cold food while Cabrigan went to get his dinner.
Balatra came down next. There was a spring in her step, and she was nearly
radiant. Her fine Elven features stood out here in a city much more
accustomed to mankind, and the occasional dwarf. Hengrithor watched her
assortment of trinkets and baubles glitter. He didn't understand the craft
for arcana, but knew she needed those things for the magic to work. Maybe
SHE had talked some sense into Dentriel.
'You look down, Heng. What troubles you?'
'WHAT TROUBLES ME??' he half stood, then realized his voice was booming. He
sat down slowly, and sighed... 'Have you talked to him?' Hengrithor pleaded.
'I have. I'm quite satisfied he made the right decision.'
'Are you saying this because he shares Elf blood?', Hengrithor asked.
'I'm saying this because I looked into his mind. He has been awaiting this
for a lifetime. I cannot say what it is that makes you wish to risk your
life for these adventures. I always wondered what made Dentriel so reckless.
We never knew his pain, or his burden. What has transpired has done so
according to his design.'
Hengrithor started, 'What?'
'Usually Cabrigan or I find some clue in ancient texts to lead us to our
destination. Sometimes, members of Cabrigan's faith appoint us a task. This
time, Dentriel came to us, with a wealth of information he'd researched. He
went looking for it, Hengrithor. It was no accident.' Balatra stared the
veteran down.
There was a pause, and Cabrigan came back with a plate full of foodstuff.
Bread and cheese, an apple, sliced ham, onion chutney, and a large ale,
which he began to merrily stuff in his bearded face.
'So, again I ask, What troubles you?' Balatra asked. Hengrithor's eye's were
cast down.
'I don't know... To me it feels like, if this were truly how he'd felt, I
would have known. I feel like I'm either really stupid, or he lied to me.
We've been together for nearly five years. I should have known.'
'None of us knew.' Cabrigan managed through his chunk of ham.
'And knowing the hearts of others is something I pride myself on.'
The stairs again began to creak, and a young lady drifted down. Hengrithor's
eyes followed her intently. She was the problem at hand. She, who had once
been Dentriel. As a male, Dentriel had been awkwardly thin. Now the lines
were graceful like a gazelle. The odd proportions of Dentriel's features
were now only slightly shifted, and made for an exotic beauty. Dentriel
approached, and sat beside Balatra, facing Hengrithor. She smiled. Possibly
for the first time in his knowing Dentriel, Hengrithor thought he... she...
looked happy. So why did Heng feel so miserable? The exquisite beauty before
him made him all the more uneasy.
'So... I was thinking in the morning of taking those potions to be identified.
I guess no one will object to the cost coming out of the treasure?' her
words met an awkward silence. 'What?' Dentriel looked about the table at
her traveling companions in bewilderment.
'They tell me you're not getting the curse lifted.' Hengrithor met
Dentriel's eyes. 'They say you planned this. Is that true?'
'If I had been reincarnated, brought back as a halfling, would it be this
hard for you, Heng? We've seen a thousand wonders in this world, and you
seem dumbfounded that I chose this. Why?'
There was no answer immediately forthcoming.
'Didn't you ever wonder why I never went wenching with you?' She looked at
Hengrithor intently. Still, there was no reply.
'Do you remember two years back... we were pursued by a clan of bugbears, and
I was shot full of arrows? I screamed for you all to go on without me, to
let me die. I'm not a hero, Heng. I didn't say that to sacrifice myself. I
WANTED to die. I had been looking for a way to do it, and make it seem noble
or brave... call it whatever you will.'
She paused.
'When I was young... very young... I knew I was not the same. So, I began
studying the path of light. For fourteen years, I studied the ways of the
priesthood.' Cabrigan stared in amazement.
'Yes, I was studying to be a lightbringer. One day, I told a high priest
that I knew what I was, and that it was wrong. Perhaps I'd angered the great
God of jest, and now, I faced a very long life trapped in a form that was
never meant to be. He told me two things then. First, that the Gods rarely
undid what they had done, and second, that I was on the wrong path. There
were no answers on that road and no way to change my fate. Only the most
powerful wizardry could change it, and if it were the will of the Gods,
perhaps not even then.
'So I lost hope... and I lost faith. My anger threatened to consume me. I
found myself daring death to take me. Instead of release, I only grew in
wealth and infamy. Heng, do you remember that night we met? I had gone to
that tavern to pick a fight with the Ravens, a well-known ring of
extortionists. I found myself fighting off twenty men, back to back with
you. Somehow... after begging for death, I still lived. So, my friends, the
belt was not the curse, my very existence was.
'I was cursed with luck. I would not die. I COULD not die. I was forced to
live two hundred years or more as a male, when I knew inside it was wrong.
Curses... They're funny, you know?'
Dentriel took a glass of wine from the barmaid, who had approached. They
were well known in this tavern, and the barmaid had brought the glass of
wine instinctively, before seeing Dentriel from the front. Dentriel, handed
over the usual piece of gold and thanked her. The barmaid stared.
'Do you like the new me?' Dentriel asked.
'I don't know m'lord... excuse me... m'lady. Are you alright?'
'Never better, thanks.' Dentriel smiled a reassuring smile.
'Where was I? Oh... curses. I read a lot. When we're not in holes, I usually
spend time in libraries of ancient tomes. I would read about curses of
various types... and how they might be undone. Magic has an odd effect. A
cursed item will only work once against a particular individual, you know?
There are curses that turn some people bright pink. Some make you blind,
some make everything you touch turn to gold. In the course of my reading, I
found a most unusual curse... a belt of great girth which when placed around
your waist, would transform you into a woman, if you were a man, and
transform you into a man if you were a woman. So, if the Gods would not help
me, then it was up to me to fix the problem. It took me another two years
after reading that to find the likely whereabouts of one such item. So,
Heng, in short... no, I'm not having the curse lifted. A curse is only a curse
if the effect causes you pain.'
There was another brief silence.
Hengrithor was troubled, but tried very hard to accept the change.
'You lied to us, Den. At least it feels that way. Why didn't you tell us all
this before?'
'Right... had I said I wanted us to risk our lives so I could get a cursed
belt to turn me into a female, how would you have reacted?'
'You KNOW how I would have reacted' Heng glared.
'Yeah, I do. I didn't lie. I just didn't tell you everything. And for that,
I'm sorry. I don't have any more secrets. I don't have one parent that's a
demon. I don't turn furry under a full moon. I'm not the bearer of a secret
birthmark proclaiming me some savior in an ancient prophecy. I don't hang
out in graveyards.' Den had managed to get a grin from Hengrithor.
He could see the same light in her eyes he'd seen before the change, the
same sense of humor. She was the same... but just being a woman now made
everything... different. How would he react to her now? Damn... they used to go
swimming together. Now what? Hengrithor realized he treated Balatra
differently, because she was a woman. He protected her, like a kid sister,
even though in truth she was nearly a hundred years his elder. What about
Dentriel? For five years, Hengrithor had counted on Dentriel to be there,
covering his back, saving his butt.
'Den?'
'Yeah, Heng?'
'Will you still be lookout for me while I'm in the hayloft with the
constable's daughter?'
'Yes, Heng.' Dentriel laughed.
'Den?'
'Yeah, Heng?'
'Do you...' Hengrithor rubbed the back of his neck. He felt really odd.
'Do you care for a dance?'
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