The lock on the vault door clicked, the points of different coloured crystal atop Vikris’ tool twisted, a different hue of light covering the door as the kobold mage concentrated. There was another click, a soft chime and the ancient basalt stone started to change. Colour leached back into the stone, marking out the doorway with copper and banded iron.


“That’s great,” Manny breathed placing a brown furred hand on the section of wall, “How did you know this was the door?” the red haired, lop-eared weasel-bun turned to regard his red and maroon scaled kobold companion and grinned wider, “It looked like just another section of the wall.”


“It’s why you shared your map with me Manny,” Vikris replied with a satisfied smirk, tucking his tool away, “I’m the best spell thief going, so shall we pop inside, loot the place and head home?”


Smiling wider Manny put his shoulder against the door and heaved, pushing on it alongside Vikris, shoving with all his might until the door slid inwards. Copper grated on stone but once there was enough space for the weasel and kobold to slip through they stopped opening it and cautiously made their way inside.


Pausing on the other side Manny frowned at the mundane stone chamber, fiddling with the gold chain he looked around then frowned at the kobold, “Where’s all the treasure?”


Pushing back his mage robes, bare chest scales gleaming in the warm light shed by the two oil lanterns set into niches on either side of the room Vikris started toward one of the doors, “Further in, this looks like a vault complex.”


Manny hurried after the kobold, feeling again that little stab of jealousy at how casually Vikris walked around in just a heavy leather kilt and open fronted mage robes. They were black, seemingly not designed for stealth but enchanted to flow and wrap around the kobold as needed to decrease his profile. The weasel bun was dressed up in his flexible, breathable black leather and cotton sneaking gear. Wide brimmed black hat covering his vibrant red hair, thick kerchief looped around his neck, ready to be pulled up over his muzzle. The outfit was complemented by sensible reinforced pads on his shins, knees and elbows. He was outfitted for thievery with a plain bandolier across his chest to hold the pouches and gear he’d brought with him. 


Shaking his head Manny palmed his enchanted dagger into one hand and crouched low, tongue pressing against his weasel teeth, large bunny feet moving quietly as he cautiously followed his partner. The corridor beyond was lined with thick blue carpet, the stone walls panelled with walnut wood, a table about halfway down the hall held a single ivory statue of a rhino, yellowed from age. It was standing on their hind legs, holding a gently glowing crystal orb like a fancy stand lamp.


“This, is a weird vault” Manny reached for the statue but stopper as Vik laid a hand on his arm, “Wait it feels…” the kobold held out a hand toward it, “Not magical but there is a sense to it…”


“Ok,” Manny glanced up the hall and then ducked low, sliding forward to the first door, “Trapped, probably guarded, we go cautiously,” the weasel-bun pulled up his bandana, covering his muzzle, hiding his identity. With just his red eyes visible and all his brown and cream fur, his toonish, elongated weasel body hidden beneath his sleek thief gear he allowed his persona to surface. He was Furtivo, master thief and by his side was the Arcanist his partner in crime. 


Glancing back he saw Vikris fade from sight, his spells and enchanted clothing making the red kobold fade into the background. Smiling, pulling his hat lower Manny checked then opened the first door, sliding it open by half a foot, more than enough space to slide his lithe, elongated weasel body through. A brush of air stirring the tail of his bandana was the only sign that Vikris had followed him but Manny's eyes where fixed on the contents of the room.


The back of the room was covered in shelves, every shelf laden with gems, from fist sized to the most petite cut, each one resting on a little pedestal. At the foot of the shelves were chests, each one open and full to the brim with precious metals. Manny padded forward and stared down at the glittering gold, silver and platinum, he reached down and picked up a handful of coins, letting them run through his fingers.


“Jackpot,”


“Jackpot indeed,” Vikris said, the air wavering slightly before the red kobold re-appeared, he plucked a ruby off a shelf and held it up to the lights, “None of it’s magical, let’s get as much of this in our bags and go.”


“You know,” a new voice murmured from behind the pair of thieves, “It is usually polite to knock before letting yourselves into someone's home.”
 
Spinning around, dropping into a crouch and lifting his dagger Manny stared at the grey lion filling the doorway. He was big wearing flowing silk trousers that were gently fading from a light cerulean blue to a dark angry maroon.


He was impressive, nearly three metres of rippling muscles, over half of which Manny didn’t know the name for. His mane was thick and full hanging down in rich silky black waves almost to his arse. He had gold earrings, rich silk arm bands and a almost sardonic, amused expression on his muzzle as he eyed the two thieves. He was also bare chested except for a red and gold sash.


“How the hell did he sneak up on us?” Manny demanded to know as he looked around for another exit.


“He didn’t,” Vikris hissed with a soft yap his amber eyes glowing, “He’s a djinn and…” he made a hooking motion with one hand and the large purple and blue glass bottle hanging from the muscular lions belt shot through the air and into Vikris’ paw, “And now he is ours.”


The lion cocked one eyebrow then bowed, “Very perceptive kobold, you hold my focus, I am Rick, your newest slave.”


Vikris laughed softly, “Then I wish for you to leave us alone to decide what to do with your treasure.”


His eyes glittered, yellow and purple and his smile turned up at the sides, turning almost sadistic as he gestured with one hand, “Your wish my Master is your command.”


His diaphanous silk trousers where changing colour once again, the angry red shifting to a rich spring green. He gestured, the air shimmered and then Vikris frowned then gasped. Manny twisted around and instantly saw the reason for Vikris’ alarm, his red scales where changing colour, shifting from a vibrant red to a light rusty redstone shade. 


Lifting one hand the kobold tried to cast a spell but he couldn’t seem to form the hand gestures or speak the words. The change was rapidly shifting across his body, flesh and scales replaced by red sandstone that wasn’t under his control. Eyes wide with shock the kobold mage squirmed and wriggled and then his expression turned blank as the stone encased his eyes and forced his muzzle shut. 


Manny was frozen, staring in horror as his companion, his brother in larceny was turned to stone right before his eyes. He knew Vik was a powerful mage, it was rare for magic to get the better of him but here he was, helpless against whatever weird magic the djinn had deployed. Taking a step back Manny watched as the kobold’s sandstone body started to shrink, his clothing bunched up, grew baggy and slipped off his arms as his stature decreased. 


Vik’s body was also moving, shifting, assuming a bendy legged, claws held, bestial pose, the sort of pose you might see in a book about kobolds written by someone who saw them as just pest. His robe, the ruby necklace, the heavy leather kil all pooled to the floor as the shrinking kobold statue hunched down into that animalistic pose.


The whole transformation had taken less than a minute, where moments before had been his living, breathing companion was now a generic sandstone kobold statue. Now maybe half a foot tall, posed and humiliated and Manny noticed entirely smooth and null between the legs. There was no anatomically correct representation of the kobolds slit, just smooth blank stone and that almost comedic representation, no exaggeration of a kobold. Manny jumped as the statue slid across the floor, lifted up a few feet and settled on a niche were it could survey the treasure with ease.


“There we go,” the djinn Rick said strolling over to admire the statue, “Now you can survey the treasure at your leisure and I won’t disturb you,” he patted the statue with a fond hand then turned to regard Manny.


He shrank back, holding his enchanted dagger ready before him, “Look I’m going to leave ok and we can just… let this misunderstanding pass.”


The lions eyes moved over Manny’s dagger then flicked back to meet the weasel-buns red eyed gaze, “Quaint, you do realise I can adapt my size at will right? Perhaps you’d care to make a wish?”


“No,” Manny said, “I’m not stupid, I am going to take Vik and leave and we’ll just agree this was a mistake.”


The lion stepped closer and smirked, “Oh no, you see Vikris’ wish included both of you,” he lifted one hand and Manny lunged, lashing out with his dagger.


Rick’s arm blurred and suddenly the lion was holding his wrist, bending his arm back and with a yell Manny dropped his dagger. The djinn caught it effortlessly with his other hand and pressed the flat of the blade against Manny’s throat.


“Naughty,” he growled, “I am a great believer in people earning their rewards and you my fine thief have earnt a very special place in my collection.”


The gem embedded where blade and hilt met on his dagger glowed and the weasel-bun cried out in alarm as he felt something being drained out of him. He started to shrink, clothing, the lot, dropping in size as his own enchanted size stealing tool was turned against him. In a matter of moments Manny found himself about a foot tall and looking up at the looming, heavy set, muscular grey and black lion djinn.


“Nice dagger,” he murmured hefting it in one hand, “I think I’ll be keeping this,” he tossed it onto a table and Manny turned to flee but one huge, black padded lion foot smashed down atop him, pinning his elongated, tiny weasel body to the floor.


“Oh no thief,” Rick purred, “You are not going anywhere, but first,” keeping Manny trapped beneath his foot he picked up Vikris’ clothing the lion’s own outfit dissolving into mist leaving him quite nude as he loomed above Manny.


The kilt wrapped about his waist easily, the heavy leather belt securing it in place. He shook Vik’s robe a couple of times and Manny gaped as the lion slipped it effortlessly over his broad shoulders and held his arms out to either side. 


“Not bad, very well made, enchanted to adjust size to match it’s wearer, your tailor is a master,” Rick complimented the Vikris statue, he then nudged the kobold’s ruby necklace with the other, “This though, this is a lovely little trap isn’t it?”


The lion flicked the necklace with his big toe and it bounced into the corner of the room, “I’ll deal with that later but now that I am suitably attired as a thief I think I want something in my collection to help show off the beauty of your well made thief clothing,” Rick pressed down firmly with his toes making Manny squeak and leant forward to talk to the weasel-bun directly, “And as you have broken into my home wearing such a lovely outfit… let me show you how… intimate it can become.”


The lion wriggled his fingers then lifted his foot, Manny tried to scramble away but suddenly it was as if his clothes had come alive! His tight fitting leather and black cotton clothing contracted around his body, squeezing him tightly. Gasping Manny stumbled and managed a whiny dook as the air was forced out of his lungs as the pressure increased. The weasel-bun found himself crouching, one hand lifting his bandana back into place, covering his muzzle whilst his hat screwed itself low over his head.


He was changing, his outfit was squeezing him down, forcing him to settle into position, the only visible strip of his fur a narrow band for his eyes. His clothing was solidifying, he could no longer feel a separation between his clothes and his body he was solidifying into shape, unable to move, no longer breathing.


Freezing into place, held in his a pose he was familiar with for when he was sneaking Manny stopped blinking and found himself just staring out at the world. A large paw wrapped about his body and picked him up, turning his body and Manny caught a glimpse of Rick before he was set on the shelf next to Vikris.


He had a fantastic view of the treasure, the wall of gems on their little stands, the chests of gold and silver. His body however refused to move, he wasn’t breathing, blinking, he no longer felt hunger or sleepy. He had been reduced to a solidified, unidentifiable sculpture of stone. 


“There we go,” Rick smiled down at them both, “Now you can both take your time to think about what to do with my treasure,” he ran a finger up Manny’s body, rubbing him between the legs, which sent a shock through the weasel’s body as he realised Rick had smoothed away his genitals as well as freezing him as stone.


“You look pretty fantastic like this, a real thief outfit, it’s very fitting,” Rick laughed and Manny saw him pick up his focus and hang it back on his belt, “Now you two enjoy yourselves and have a think about what you did, I don’t put up with people trying to steal and take shortcuts to riches.”


He ran his eyes over the pair of statues and smirked, “If you behave I might let you earn your freedom at some point, but for now well… enjoy my treasure boys.”


The djinn left his vision and Manny found that he couldn’t look side to side, couldn’t do anything but stare ahead at the treasure, frozen, trapped, captured. This heist had gone very badly wrong and now he was stuck as a statue at the whim of the djinn.