Guillermo started awake, head jerking up off the forest floor, eyes snapping open suddenly. The ground beneath him was bare dirt, looking like it had been swept clear recently from the piles of leaf detritus off to one side. His head ached and he felt weird, like there was pressure around his black furred paws. Struggling to sit up he discoverer it wasn't an illusion or a just a feeling, his paws were being held down by some sort of unseen force.


Shaking his head to clear away the cobwebs he frowned at the brightly coloured thread that encircled his body. Craning his neck he could see the woven loop of threads passing off to either side. Licking his lips the wolf stretched his neck forwards, straining to reach that circle of thread and maybe snap it in half. His snout fell several inches short however and he growled in frustration. He was going to make whoever had done this to him pay!


Working his tongue back and forth inside his mouth to moisten his tongue and lips Guillermo or Tarpaw as he thought of himself threw his head back and howled! What came out was more of a wheeze after being unconscious so long. Being held down as he was didn't help, it meant he couldn't fill his lungs.


“Oh you're awake,” the voice spoke from off to Tarpaw’s left and he strained to look around at the source, “You startled me, I was just finishing off your companions. Welcome back wolf.”


The figure who walked into sight was a kobold. They had bright yellow scales and three crests of fins surmounting his head. One of them ran all the way down his spine to the tip of his tail. He was also not wearing anything except for a copper arm band shaped like two snakes entwinned about themselves. Tarpaw frowned as he tried to place their gender but their high pitched voice and lack of any discernable features between his legs made it impossible to tell what they were.


“Who the fuck are you, untie me at once you little shit and maybe me and my friends won't tear you apart and cook!”


“Such language, bad gnoll,” he waved a paw back and forth as if telling off a child, “Don’t worry though your friends only do what I say now.”


“I’m a wolf you dumb kobold, you'll be my bitch when… oh Tiran no!”


The naga that slithered up behind the kobold had been his travelling companion for several years now. What stared back at him out of those lifeless blue glowing eyes want Tiran. From the damage to his neck and body he'd been killed quickly at least. Blinking back tears Tarpaw glared at the kobold and strained against his magical bonds.


“You monster, how could you, at least let his body rest in peace!”


The kobold laughed and shook his head, “Now why would I waste a perfectly good zombie naga? Silly gnoll, will teach you all to rely on magic to protect your camp.”


“I am a wolf argfg,” Tarpaw almost bit his tongue as suddenly his bonds were released and he bucked off the ground. He'd been straining so hard he almost did his back from the sudden release. Scrambling to his feet he raised a paw, ready to lunge but froze as he saw the changes spreading across his beautiful black paw gloves!


The fur was growing lighter, fading from pitch tar black to a dull boring brown! It was happening to the tip of his muzzle too, going cross eyed he could see the black fur was fading, growing lighter transitioning to a dull boring brown! His nose had already lost its beautiful black gleam getting dull and rubbery as he touched it with a paw that suddenly seemed big and fumbling!


Twisting around he stared down at his body, he was growing taller and chunkier by the second. His thighs were meaty and muscled, his arms a pair of tree-trunks and his shoulders felt broad and wide! His beautiful bright red and white fur was changing. It went from sleek, smooth wolf to rugged, unkempt, tangled beige with big brown splotches… spots that matched his new gloves and socks.


“What… are you doing to me,” Tarpaw screamed at the kobold, charging at the scaly beast. He bounced off the perimeter of the circle and staggered back to the middle, “I am going to.. No! NO!”


His mane, his pride and joy after his coal black paws it was falling out! Huge clumps of his thick, luxurious black locks were cascading down around his shoulders. Reaching up with both paws and grabbed his hair and felt it come away… what was left… was short… and stiff, standing up in a inch high crest between ears that were no longer entirely canine. Running a trembling finger back he felt the crest… the mohawk trail down the back of his skull and down between his shoulders. It grew shorter and trailed off down his back, he could just about reach around and feel where the stiff black fur gave way to spot covered beige.


Feeling along his muzzle, down his suddenly larger, buffer body he reached around and grabbed his short, shaggy, unkempt tail and stared at it. It was… he was… this was the body of a… with a roar Tarpaw span and charged the edge of the circle again. He slammed into the invisible barrier keeping him in place  and hammered against it with his fists.


“You motherless son of a grrlf hrrnsaa rreeeddd brrrff grrrn gnaarlllfff,” Tarpaw froze, a paw clapped to his muzzle at the god-awful growling sounds emanating from it.


“Grafff,” came out when he tried to say what, shaking his head he tried again, “nif,” was what he managed to growl when he tied did. Eyes wide he lifted his head and stared at the kobold who laughed and waved his clawed fingers at him with a smirk.


“Don’t worry gnoll,” the kobold yapped, “It’s just one of the delightful curses my Master and I came up with to prepare you for my experiments.”


Shaking his head Tarpaw growled, a deep guttural, bestial noise. He clamped a paw over his snout and glared at the kobold. This was madness, they couldn’t just do this to him at least he was alive which was better than poor Tiran. Shaking his head he growled out several words and the kobold smirked at him.


“Don’t worry, I can understand you just fine, keep on talking like normal. Just no one else will hear anything but gnollish. Big bestial, growling language, it’s horrible isn’t it? You’ll be hard pressed to convince anyone you’re anything but a big beast man sounding like that.”


Shaking his shoulders and clutching at his head Tarpaw shook back and forth then lunged at the kobold. This time he passed right over the edge of the circle, hope bloomed in his heart and then he saw the smirk on the kobold’s face. That was the last coherent thought he had for a long time as his body gave out beneath him as every muscled seemed to seize and cramp up at once.


Eventually Tarpaw became aware of Erin sitting by his head, stroking his muzzle and ears. He was whispering quietly, talking to him as if he was a big dumb pet.


“You see you can’t attack me, or Master Kaed, as long as you even think about attacking us this will happen. So be a good beast and stop thinking about it.”


Tarpaw slowly uncurled, his muscles relaxing, the cramping pain fading as he pushed away thoughts of attacking or harming or doing anything untoward to the kobold. Slowly sitting up Tarpaw raised his head and stared at the kobold nervously.


“Why are you doing this?” he asked, wincing at the guttural, growling words that emerged from his short, hyena like muzzle, “Please… stop this.”


“To further my understanding of magic of course,” the kobold said with a grin, he then pointed off into the woods, “Now run slave, give it your best shot, try and escape.”


Tarpaw stared at the lizard, he knew he must have looked dumbfounded as the damn reptile laughed and shook his head, “Ah that new face of yours, you do gormless gnoll really well. Now run slave, run and try to escape I want to get this out of the way now so you don’t try it at an inconvenient time.”


Scrambling up Tarpaw started to run away, angling away from the kobold and the other creature he could see. He only caught a glimpse of them before he was in the trees. It was a wolf, like he used to be with yellow fur wearing a red hat. They had been watching him with an amused smirk but Tarpaw put them out of his mind. The kobold probably had some trick up his sleeve, the zombies lying in wait to grab him. But he was stronger now, he could over-power them and keep running. It might take some time but he could still write, make someone understand, get turned back.


He’d just cleared the second line of trees when he pitched forwards a startled hyenid sounding yip escaping his muzzle as he ploughed into the ground. Scrambling to get upright he looked back to see what had caught him and stared in shock. His feet had turned to stone… smooth beige coloured rock and it was spreading. In seconds it was up to his waist and Tarpaw had time to sit up and reach for his legs before it engulfed him up to the shoulders. He had time for one final whimper, to see the yellow kobold lazily walking towards him before everything went dark as stone claimed him.


It took him a moment to realise he could still feel the ground pressed against his body. Claws tapping indolently on his body then a hand wrapped about his ankle and he slid through the ground. He could hear too, birds, the rustle of leaves he just couldn’t see anything. After a moment the kobold started to speak softly as he was dragged through the mud as a statue.


“This happens if you get more than one hundred feet away from me or Kaed. It’ll only be undone when I decide so you know running away is fruitless. You’re a gnoll now, a slave and you live and work as I decide.”


With a gasp Tarpaw sat up as suddenly his body was restored to flesh and blood. The kobold was standing over him, fingers finishing an odd spellcasting gestures. Wrapping his big, bulky, ridiculously muscled arms around his knees as he hunched up the wolf… gnoll tried to calm his shaking nerves. The kobold left him be, walking off to the fire-pit in the middle of the clearing and giving some instructions to Tiran. The naga zombie slithered off amongst the trees and Tarpaw took this momentary reprieve to look around.


They were in a pretty wide clearing in the middle of the forest. There was a pond along one side, over fifty feet wide fed by a small stream that spilled out of the forest. The fire-pit was made from flint bricks and there was a smaller cooking fire and clay oven nearby. It all looked pretty permanent with a wooden open-sided workshop of some sort set up along the other side of the camp from the pond. There was also a shelter, a wooden lean to full of furs and cushions. It looked rustic but comfortable, well lived in and the construction was sturdy and skilled. This was no temporary camp but a home and he was stuck slap bang in the middle of it.


“So slave,” the kobold was back and Tarpaw jumped in alarm, drawing back a bit from the yellow scaled devil, “I’ve got one more curse to demonstrate then I think you’ll be ready to hear what you’ll be helping me with,” he smirked, “Beyond being big and strong… don’t worry it’s my hope that dumb will come in time.”


He made a motion for Tarpaw to follow and with reluctance he pulled himself to his feet and followed the kobold over to the fire. He worked his jaw, prodding his weird fangs with his tongue and risked asking a question.


“Can I know your name at least?” he growled out, the mangled forced translation of his speech into a gnollish grunt making him cringe internally. It sounded so rough and animalistic, barely speech at all.


“I am your master Erin, the wolf,” he motioned to the lemon furred wolf, “Is master Kaed, not that you are ever to use our names. You shall call me Master and nothing else understand?”


Smirking Tarpaw drew himself erect, defiantly pointing a paw before growling out, “You are a little shit Erin.” At least that is what he tried to say, what came out was, “As you command Master.”


Clasping a paw to his muzzle in shock Tarpaw felt his ears, his horrible, hyena ears pin back and his tail droop as the kobold laughed, “I wonder what you just tried to call me, see that’s the last little curse we’ve woven into your grubby soul slave. Obedience…” he hopped up onto a large rock and sat down cross legged.


“But first… see the bags,” he motioned to a large backpack and a pile of clothes that Tarpaw recognized as his own, “You shall start with the clothes, feed them all into the fire.”


Balking at the idea Tarpaw struggled to resist but the order seemed to bypass what he wanted and just set his body to work. Struggling to resist, to somehow stop himself the fox watched in despair as his big, fumbling gnoll hands picked up his clothes item by item and threw them onto the fire. Shirt, jacket, leather trousers, even his under-garments all of them vanished into the flames. 


He was then forced to dump his pack out onto the ground. All the food was already missing but everything else went into the fire. His spare clothing, the packets of exotic and expensive spices that he had been planning to sell when they reached market. A couple were missing he thought but all the others went into the fire and up in smoke! With tears leaking down his muzzle Tarpaw was compelled by the geas to obey Erin’s order to snap open the small framed picture of his family and toss it into the heart of the flames.


Shaking with rage he cursed and growled and yapped with a snarl being careful not to come near to implying any of the names he was using were meant for the kobold. His bedroll, blanket, even his camping gear all of it went into the fire. Step by slow step he was forced to set fire to his life, sending it up in smoke. As the flames were consuming the last scrap of his pack Erin stood up on his rock and placed a paw almost consolingly on Tarpaw’s hip.


“It’s all gone now slave, your former life is over you belong to me now.”


Turning slowly Tarpaw wiped at his muzzle, which proved difficult. He wasn’t used to these huge hyenid paws or this short muzzle, “Why… are you doing this,” he growled, “I have a life, my name is…”


“You shall never speak your name aloud,” Erin interrupted him suddenly and with a growl of frustration Tarpaw’s tongue tied itself up over his name. He could think it all he wanted but the best sound he could make was a meaningless snort and huff. The kobold found this very amusing and smirked at him, “You are a gnoll, gnoll’s have short, simple, brutish names s you are Der now understand?”


Jumping off his rock he smirked, “In fact, you shall only ever refer to yourself in the third person. No me or I for you,” Tarpaw found himself looking down into that smirking face as he spoke another command, “You shall repeat that order back to me Der.”


Tarpaw grabbed at his throat with his horrible, brown gloved paws, trying to stop up his tongue. He got his fist in his mouth but the words still spilled out, slurred and muffled but he spoke them as ordered. 


“Der is to only talk about Der like this… Der is forbidden pronouns, Der shall only speak of Der as object,” pulling his paw out of his mouth Tarpaw tried to regain some of his composure as he growled, “Der would know why this is done to Der?”


Tarpaw was left waiting for an answer as the Master, ugh it was hard to think of him as Erin or the yellow runt; ordered him about. He wound up kneeling in the circle of coloured twine again, bleeding over a large purple crystal wrapped in crude silver and copper wire. He wasn't sure why this was necessary and it was hard to ask proper questions whilst being made to chew your own veins open.


He sat there in the circle, obediently bleeding, the ragged gash from his teeth laid open along his fore-arm oozing blood constantly. He'd ripped a vein, punctured the main artery but all the while the Master assured him everything would be OK. The kobold was casting outside the circle, directing his power into the circle, into the crystal. There should have been more blood… he was sure a big creature like him would contain more blood. The crystal was pretty though, a beautiful red colour, glowing quietly with a quiet internal light. It was shifting as well… like thick oil was gently travelling along each facet. Slumping sideways Der….no Tarpaw, his name was Tarpaw, Guillermo to his mother… he, he was looking out of the crystal at the big bulky, muscular gnoll body. 


It was him, he yearned to be reunited with it. But he also knew it was now just so much cooling meat. He was dead, he'd just willingly killed himself! Bled to death over the stone… that he was now trapped inside. Pressing his paws to the slick surface of the stone Tarpaw gasped as he saw black paw gloves. A wolfish snout, a thick black mass of wolf mane, he was dead but he was himself… 


“Wait I thought you couldn't be compelled to do something that'd hurt you or was against your nature.”


“You can't normally,” Erin’s voice murmured, distorted by an odd crystalline echo. Looking up Tarpaw found himself staring out of the crystal into the kobolds face, “I killed you, you didn't it was an illusion you biting your own arm open.”


“Release me then fiend,” Tarpaw demanded, putting a growl into his tone, a proper commanding wolfish growl, “You’ve had your fun and murdered me, release me!”


“Oh no,” the kobold yipped, “See I had a question, I've transformed your body. But if I kill you now your soul knows it's stolen shape. You pass on to arrogant fox heaven and all is over.”


Tarpaw’s jaw hung open, he could feel the power of the coming ‘but’ and he hated it, he feared it, “No…” he whispered, “You cannot, that is immoral.”


“But,” the kobold hissed ignoring him, “How long does it take for the soul to mould to the form. They say form is everything, thoughts, instincts and the soul all flow from the form,” he paused to look at the sky, “It’s been two hours since I transformed you. Your soul is still a wolf, but I've trapped you, captured you in a soulstone woven out of your own blood. Every time you die your soul ends up in here so I can see and then….”


The master said something, words he didn't understand, power he never knew. But suddenly his eyes flung open. He drew a shuddering, heavy breath and lurched upright staring in horror at the blood red crystal. He tried to lunge for it, to small it but he was weak and Erin’s voice rang out.


“You shall never try to find, touch or even talk about this crystal Der,” he leaned over him and smirked, “You shall repeat my instructions and swear to obey them.”


“Der…” he started in a thick, sluggish, growling voice, “Der shall never try to find, touch or talk about… about Der’s forbidden thing.”


“Good gnoll, now sit up,” Erin said walking away, “I healed you but you need to eat. Now you know your purpose Der. I'll be working you like the thick witted gnoll you are. Periodically I'll kill you, we'll see how long your soul stays wolf.”


Pulling himself up Der rolled over, he couldn't sit up. There was a haunch of raw, uncooked flesh, be managed to grab it in both paws and sank his claws and teeth into it. It tasted… good, it was good, he'd ripped half his way through it before it dawned on him that that scraps of blue fur clinging to it were suspiciously similar to Flinty’s fur. He'd been his third companion, the otter… but he was so hungry and this body's instincts kept eating. It wasn't gnoll, therefore his nose and stomach said it was food… so he ate.


When he finished eating he dragged himself to the pond. Drank his fill and washed his fur before collapsing by a log. Erin was talking quietly to his Master over by the fire. For now content to ignore him. He couldn't believe this was happening to him, that they were going to use, abuse, play with him until he proved some sort of theory and became a gnoll! With a disgruntled groan he closed his eyes and started to drop off. Maybe after sleeping it wouldn't be so bad, maybe when he woke up they'd give him some clothing!


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