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Description

This is a bit of an old piece I drew and wrote some time ago. I figured it was time to have it out here since it's been a while.

It also serves as the first goody in my patreon page (www.patreon.com/MaLAguA ) where I have all the pieces up there already, but only supporters can see them now.

Next --- www.deviantart.com/malagua/art…

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The town assumed they didn’t need a knight of their own, that it would be good enough to count with the generosity of the errant patrols of the local king. However, it all changed one strange year. It began with the rumors circulating around the trade routes. Words about a ploy between nobles and the church. Of witches gaining more power, actual power. And then, the tales became unimaginable: actual dragons waking up from their slumber, people suddenly turning into orcs, trolls and other creatures and magic simply becoming real. It was by this point that everyone just stopped paying attention to the tales. Who would believe it?

It all happened one fateful evening of autumn, as people were preparing to retreat back into the fort when three men showed up. They were clad in a long dark robe and spoke in excitement and thrill. Quite like Gerald when he’d gotten his sword. The spokesman demanded to be given all the valuables within the town and wanted them now. Feeling safe behind the walls the town’s mayor laughed their request, only to have one of the strangers fired a bolt of energy from his finger, hitting the poor man squared on the chest and, in an instant, the mayor was turned into a frog.

“I love our new powers!” Gerald heard one of the strangers clamor during his laughter as the rest of the town began to panic at the sigh of the once mayor hop off the pile of clothes. And a moment later, the gate that had kept everyone safe came crashing down at the sound of an explosion.

“Hand over your valuables!”

“And we will spare everyone around here, if it’s enough.” Another added. Some of the people were quick to give up. But the bulk of the town just tried to run away.

“You can’t escape, we’re covering your only entrance,” One of the criminals announced in amusement as he stood guard by the door while the other men rushed into the town, looking for the places of interest.

Gerald had been watching the whole spectacle from the crowd and still couldn’t believe his eyes. The proof to that was the former mayor that was hopping about the pile of clothes he had once been wearing.

“What are we going to do?” he heard people around mutter in panic.

“I don’t want to be turned into a frog!” one of the kids cried hugging his mother.

“I-It’s okay.” She answered. “They won’t do anything… I hope,” she muttered just loud enough so Gerald could hear.

Gerald was just unsettled and uncertain about that. What would stop them should they want to silence the whole town? They had already turned the mayor into a frog and blown down the gate. And with that Gerald’s hand came down to the grip of his sword and slowly began to unsheathe it. That caught the attention of the rest of the townsfolk.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” One of the old men whispered putting a hand on his wrist.

“You’re going to make it worse,” said someone else.

There was a commotion going in the crowd, one that, luckily, the warlock that had been standing guard in the entrance hadn’t noticed. For every person Gerald saw admonishing him, there was another looking at him for courage. And the choice became clear.

“We have to stand to them. If we don’t, things will just get worse. They will take everything and then… then they will come back to take everything again.” Was all he said as he pushed the old man’s hand off his wrist and made his way out of the crowd.

He took strong steps and unsheathed his sword with a metallic swing. That got the attention of the warlock. Inwardly, he cursed for losing the element of surprise. He stared over in Gerald’s way with a small sneer of contempt and of amusement. “What do you think of yourself?” he asked with evident amusement.

“I’m standing up to the likes of you!” Gerald answered loud and clear.

“What can someone like you do to a god like me?” he laughed as his hands suddenly lit up with magical energy, the same one that had been used on the mayor. Gerald’s grip trembled for a moment. He was right. What was he thinking? This man had actual powers. What would steel do against him?

“Well, you are human. So you blee-” He was cut halfway through his words as the man suddenly threw magical energy his way. Fortunately, he was so tense and alert he saw it coming and quickly ducked to the side. He heard someone scream behind him that quickly devolved into a set of clucks. A poor victim of the crowd that had gotten hit by the spell but he didn’t let himself be distracted and instead sprinted towards the man, closing in as fast as he could, sword held up high while the caster was distracted.

“Shit!” The warlock blurted out in a brief bout of panic as he began to prepare another spell, waving his hands and letting his hands charge up with energy as Gerald drew closer. His heart was beating fast and he was feeling like a victor already. He just needed to get close enough to use the sword, take down the man.

Just as he was about ten steps away, the warlock threw his arms forth releasing two bolts of magical energy that hit down the ground as Gerald vaulted to the side of a wagon. The two shots hit the ground with a bit of an explosive burst.

“Just stand still!” He called out as he tried to back away, already preparing for another attack.

“They are just people!” Gerald called out, hoping to inspire at least some value and courage from the rest of the townsfolk. “We can take them down!” he said as he began to move as he caught a glimpse of the blue energy that was flying his way. It hit one of the hay bales of the wagon, making it suddenly explode in bits of straw and wood splinters.

That was the signal for Gerald to abandoned the safety of his cover and quickly rushed over to meet the warlock just as he was preparing the next explosive spell. His eyes reflected panic as he struggled to created the ball of energy which appeared to shimmer and deform in his panic. A grin appeared in the edge knight’s mouth this as his chance and quickly began to wildly swing the blade around with the faint attempt to land a hit onto the warlock.

Trying to dodge, the invader threw his arms into the air just as the spell was fired and did his best to step back, falling down to the ground and trying to crawl his way out of the slashes of the blade until one found it’s way to his head.

It was with the flat side though, to avoid killing the man. Still that was enough to knock him out hard. He flopped down to the ground and people from the crowd began to cheer and shout out to take arms against the invaders.

It felt great. Gerald felt like a hero. Like the knights he seemed to admire. “I made it,” he muttered, close to jumping of joy. He was just glad he had found his courage and the will to stand up to injustice and now, as he looked around, he was starting to see men go over for their pitchforks and torches to fight back. “Maybe I should go on with my promise and be an official knight.” But his thoughts were interrupted when a blast of energy hit him from behind.

“You damned knight! We’ll see how you like to become a chicken!” Came from the voice of another of the invaders. It had casted a spell, landing straight on the back just where the armor didn’t cover. His sword dropped from the surprise as the changes were already starting to happen, much like the mayor’s.

Gerald’s body was pushed forth as his skin was suddenly burning with the feeling of needles growing out. The straps of armor that held the gauntlet and shield were starting to tighten and tear from the strain while something similar was happening down his shoes as the leather was torn apart by the new talon like protrusions.

“A beak!” was the first thought that came to his head as his tongue felt his teeth pushed closer and starting to melt and merge together into a pointy tip. Gerald’s mind was beginning to panic. He didn’t want to be a chicken. He didn’t want to be turned into a hen. Lay eggs, get mated by roosters and then eaten when too old to be worth anything. No no no! Panic seemed to have found him again, so much that he wasn’t aware of what else was taking place.

He didn’t notice the warlock responsible for his situation stare shocked at his way, out loud demanding to know how the spell went wrong just before the other farmers and townsfolk overran him.

He didn’t notice nor asked why the feeling of needles pushing out of his skin was just centered around his upper body while his lower body just itched. And then, a loud ripping sound reached his ears as a hole was made at the seat of his pants and a new appendage began to grow through it, slowly growing in length with a tassel of fur, not feathers, on the end. A tail of an alleged beast.

Description

This is a bit of an old piece I drew and wrote some time ago. I figured it was time to have it out here since it's been a while.

It also serves as the first goody in my patreon page (www.patreon.com/MaLAguA ) where I have all the pieces up there already, but only supporters can see them now.

Next --- www.deviantart.com/malagua/art…

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

The town assumed they didn’t need a knight of their own, that it would be good enough to count with the generosity of the errant patrols of the local king. However, it all changed one strange year. It began with the rumors circulating around the trade routes. Words about a ploy between nobles and the church. Of witches gaining more power, actual power. And then, the tales became unimaginable: actual dragons waking up from their slumber, people suddenly turning into orcs, trolls and other creatures and magic simply becoming real. It was by this point that everyone just stopped paying attention to the tales. Who would believe it?

It all happened one fateful evening of autumn, as people were preparing to retreat back into the fort when three men showed up. They were clad in a long dark robe and spoke in excitement and thrill. Quite like Gerald when he’d gotten his sword. The spokesman demanded to be given all the valuables within the town and wanted them now. Feeling safe behind the walls the town’s mayor laughed their request, only to have one of the strangers fired a bolt of energy from his finger, hitting the poor man squared on the chest and, in an instant, the mayor was turned into a frog.

“I love our new powers!” Gerald heard one of the strangers clamor during his laughter as the rest of the town began to panic at the sigh of the once mayor hop off the pile of clothes. And a moment later, the gate that had kept everyone safe came crashing down at the sound of an explosion.

“Hand over your valuables!”

“And we will spare everyone around here, if it’s enough.” Another added. Some of the people were quick to give up. But the bulk of the town just tried to run away.

“You can’t escape, we’re covering your only entrance,” One of the criminals announced in amusement as he stood guard by the door while the other men rushed into the town, looking for the places of interest.

Gerald had been watching the whole spectacle from the crowd and still couldn’t believe his eyes. The proof to that was the former mayor that was hopping about the pile of clothes he had once been wearing.

“What are we going to do?” he heard people around mutter in panic.

“I don’t want to be turned into a frog!” one of the kids cried hugging his mother.

“I-It’s okay.” She answered. “They won’t do anything… I hope,” she muttered just loud enough so Gerald could hear.

Gerald was just unsettled and uncertain about that. What would stop them should they want to silence the whole town? They had already turned the mayor into a frog and blown down the gate. And with that Gerald’s hand came down to the grip of his sword and slowly began to unsheathe it. That caught the attention of the rest of the townsfolk.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” One of the old men whispered putting a hand on his wrist.

“You’re going to make it worse,” said someone else.

There was a commotion going in the crowd, one that, luckily, the warlock that had been standing guard in the entrance hadn’t noticed. For every person Gerald saw admonishing him, there was another looking at him for courage. And the choice became clear.

“We have to stand to them. If we don’t, things will just get worse. They will take everything and then… then they will come back to take everything again.” Was all he said as he pushed the old man’s hand off his wrist and made his way out of the crowd.

He took strong steps and unsheathed his sword with a metallic swing. That got the attention of the warlock. Inwardly, he cursed for losing the element of surprise. He stared over in Gerald’s way with a small sneer of contempt and of amusement. “What do you think of yourself?” he asked with evident amusement.

“I’m standing up to the likes of you!” Gerald answered loud and clear.

“What can someone like you do to a god like me?” he laughed as his hands suddenly lit up with magical energy, the same one that had been used on the mayor. Gerald’s grip trembled for a moment. He was right. What was he thinking? This man had actual powers. What would steel do against him?

“Well, you are human. So you blee-” He was cut halfway through his words as the man suddenly threw magical energy his way. Fortunately, he was so tense and alert he saw it coming and quickly ducked to the side. He heard someone scream behind him that quickly devolved into a set of clucks. A poor victim of the crowd that had gotten hit by the spell but he didn’t let himself be distracted and instead sprinted towards the man, closing in as fast as he could, sword held up high while the caster was distracted.

“Shit!” The warlock blurted out in a brief bout of panic as he began to prepare another spell, waving his hands and letting his hands charge up with energy as Gerald drew closer. His heart was beating fast and he was feeling like a victor already. He just needed to get close enough to use the sword, take down the man.

Just as he was about ten steps away, the warlock threw his arms forth releasing two bolts of magical energy that hit down the ground as Gerald vaulted to the side of a wagon. The two shots hit the ground with a bit of an explosive burst.

“Just stand still!” He called out as he tried to back away, already preparing for another attack.

“They are just people!” Gerald called out, hoping to inspire at least some value and courage from the rest of the townsfolk. “We can take them down!” he said as he began to move as he caught a glimpse of the blue energy that was flying his way. It hit one of the hay bales of the wagon, making it suddenly explode in bits of straw and wood splinters.

That was the signal for Gerald to abandoned the safety of his cover and quickly rushed over to meet the warlock just as he was preparing the next explosive spell. His eyes reflected panic as he struggled to created the ball of energy which appeared to shimmer and deform in his panic. A grin appeared in the edge knight’s mouth this as his chance and quickly began to wildly swing the blade around with the faint attempt to land a hit onto the warlock.

Trying to dodge, the invader threw his arms into the air just as the spell was fired and did his best to step back, falling down to the ground and trying to crawl his way out of the slashes of the blade until one found it’s way to his head.

It was with the flat side though, to avoid killing the man. Still that was enough to knock him out hard. He flopped down to the ground and people from the crowd began to cheer and shout out to take arms against the invaders.

It felt great. Gerald felt like a hero. Like the knights he seemed to admire. “I made it,” he muttered, close to jumping of joy. He was just glad he had found his courage and the will to stand up to injustice and now, as he looked around, he was starting to see men go over for their pitchforks and torches to fight back. “Maybe I should go on with my promise and be an official knight.” But his thoughts were interrupted when a blast of energy hit him from behind.

“You damned knight! We’ll see how you like to become a chicken!” Came from the voice of another of the invaders. It had casted a spell, landing straight on the back just where the armor didn’t cover. His sword dropped from the surprise as the changes were already starting to happen, much like the mayor’s.

Gerald’s body was pushed forth as his skin was suddenly burning with the feeling of needles growing out. The straps of armor that held the gauntlet and shield were starting to tighten and tear from the strain while something similar was happening down his shoes as the leather was torn apart by the new talon like protrusions.

“A beak!” was the first thought that came to his head as his tongue felt his teeth pushed closer and starting to melt and merge together into a pointy tip. Gerald’s mind was beginning to panic. He didn’t want to be a chicken. He didn’t want to be turned into a hen. Lay eggs, get mated by roosters and then eaten when too old to be worth anything. No no no! Panic seemed to have found him again, so much that he wasn’t aware of what else was taking place.

He didn’t notice the warlock responsible for his situation stare shocked at his way, out loud demanding to know how the spell went wrong just before the other farmers and townsfolk overran him.

He didn’t notice nor asked why the feeling of needles pushing out of his skin was just centered around his upper body while his lower body just itched. And then, a loud ripping sound reached his ears as a hole was made at the seat of his pants and a new appendage began to grow through it, slowly growing in length with a tassel of fur, not feathers, on the end. A tail of an alleged beast.