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The small side room was occupied by two people, probably two that should not have been anywhere near each other, but had been dealt similar hands in their recently short lives.

 

Dorella, formerly Dorelax, paced the small room, looking at his erstwhile companion, golden reptilian eyes watching the teen-aged girl (despite being nearly as tall as the ork she had formerly adventured with) with concern and strange knot forming in his stomach. One that he had not felt since he had died. Dorella herself was short, stocky, like many a dragonborn, but rounded out with the still-growing curves of an adolescent and scales that shined gold in the candle light. Once a proud human male, and then a male ogre, his armor was once of hammered steel that had been polished and fitted her former torso perfectly. Now, he wore the hand-me-down leathers of the elven thief. A gift for his rebirth day, the elf had said.

 

Dorella's companion was Sora, formerly Sorestien, a sorcerer of some reown and of questionable morals. Her new form matched that of her companion, though her former self's dragonic blood may have influenced her reincarnation slightly. Large, lithe, and scantily dressed were the best that described her. Wrapped in delicate, very sheer white silks that left little to the imagination, a sinewy tails swings behind her as she watched Dorella pace.

 

"What you're telling me is that we're the victims of a resurgence in the true dragonblooded population?" Dorella asked, eyes drawn up and down the larger girl's scandalous form and the knot in her stomach growing larger.

 

"Somewhat. It's almost as if the universe and nature are correcting themselves for a slight descrepency, and giving us the proper bodies that we were meant for," Sora replied as she drew a clawed finger up one long, scaled, digitigrade leg and stopped at the tantalizingly thin silk tie keeping her nethers from being exposed.

 

"Now, allow me to stop you right there," Dorella said. "I've been reincarnated twice. Once as an ogre, and now I'm a dragonborn girl who gets strange looks when she, I mean he, asks for a flagon at whatever inn she- He- stays at."

"Still coming to grips with the fact that you're a woman now," Sora teased. "Well, the way you look, I should say girl."

 

"This is coming from the girl who's dressed like a common city streetwalker," Dorella replied, a warmth rising in his face.

 

"A witty retort. Tell me what it's like staring at a young woman's chest and crotch ever since you got in here?"

 

Dorella panicked. That underaged harlot had caught him staring. How could sh-he not! Those delicate curves, still growing breasts covered in shining gold and easily within sight. The temptation was obviously too great. Averting her gaze and burying her snout in her hands, Dorella tried to hide her shame from the other girl in the room.

She could hear Sora snickering. The spined fins where his former ears had been pick up a lot of sounds, many he didn't need to hear. Such the thief and the druid that had done this to her and their frequent and furtive meetings and carnal congresses.

 

"Either way, darling, I am willing to bet that there are more of us out there. Those changed into these beautiful golden women and we should stick together and seek them out," Sora explained, standing.

 

"But-" Dorella stopped. He was face to face with Sora, hi- no, her - heart racing. Granted, face to face, was Dorella staring at Sora's collarbone since the other girl had a good head on her. Dorella could feel the heat, the primal element itself, radiating from Sora's barely clothed body. It felt wonderful on her scales, like a warm rock that had been in the noon-day sun.

 

Looking down at her clearly flustered fellow, Sora drew the senseless girl in with both of her lithe arms. "Hush now. You and I are going to undertake this quest. There is great power and wealth to be had, Dorella, and I wish for you and I to have a slice of the proverbial pie."

 

"I-I-i," Dorella stammered. Her brain was hot and fuzzy, unused to so many new sensations being piled on at once.

"If I find the others, you may have the honor of travelling with me and recruiting them with us," Sora said, letting the shorter girl go. "And now I wish to rest. I have a second bed in my room, in case you wish to join me and perhaps learn how to keep your hoarding instinct from overwhelming you."

 

Sora left the little room, Dorella standing there like some stooge that her former thief companion had seduced. Maybe, just maybe, this change wouldn't be so bad...

 

---

 

Dorella's heart was all she could hear in her fin-ears. She was in front of the door Sora said that the two bed room was and staring at the doorknob. Breathing heavily and a shaking hand reaching out, she grasps the brass knob and gives it a twist, opening the door to the dark room. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she steps in, looking ahead. There stood Sora, the brazen strumpet that she was, still in her silks and on the one bed, tail moving over the sheets.

 

"So you decided to join me?" Sora cooed, red and gold flecked eyes looking at the other girl.

 

"J-just for now," Dorella said, stumbling over her words. Her stubby little tail was betraying her, wagging in time with Sora's, at the thought of spending time with the larger girl.

 

"Seems that way," Sora commented, shifting on her side and letting her long tail occasionally move behind her. "You get the bed over there."

 

A clawed hand pointed out the other girl's sleeping place, right across from her seductive companion. Dorella's heart sank slightly, at the prospect of being away from the golden beauty across the room. The moonlight shown through the curtains, highlighting the sweet subtle curves of the more dragonic young woman. Walking over to the other side and sitting on the bed, Dorella choked back the fear to ask something. "What's a hoarding instinct?"

 

"Oh dear, you haven't noticed? All the dragonic races, from kobolds to true dragons have a hoarding instinct. Something that tells them to gather up gold, silver, gems, and keep them in a large horde. They say it varies in strength and preference from species to species."

 

"I haven't... Been like I am for too long," Dorella admitted. Averting her gaze from the moonlit, shining, delicate form of Sora. "Does it apply to just treasure or... ?"

 

"Other dragonics?" Sora had guessed, or perhaps she was reading the other girl's mind. Either way, Dorella felt her face heat up again and stuck her head in the pillows of the bed.

 

Sora smiled, something working within the depths of her mind. Stroking the darker gold, back-swept horns that had replaced once luscious hair, scaled lips part to reveal a sharp and predatory grin. "Dorella, sweetheart. Are you lusting after me?"

 

Dorella wanted to scream, the warmth was so bad. Not like the heat from Sora's slender frame, no, this was like the sun itself was behind her blunt snout. Her little tail curled inward, giving the illusion that she actually had something resembling a curvy bottom, rather than the flat and bony expanse. She felt the bed move and a heat through her leathers. A gentle hand played with the ropey tendrils that made up Dorella's mane and sent a shiver down her spine.

 

Withdrawing from the pillows, she saw the older girl on top of her, smiling. Sora leaned in closer, so much so that Dorella could feel the hot, moist breath of the other girl on her ear as she whispered, "Perhaps when you're older."

 

Dorella was mortified. She buried her head as deep as possible to block out Sora's cackling laughter as she got up and sat on the bed across the room. She wanted to die, for real this time. No druidic take-backs. The maelstrom of feelings inside her felt like she was going to be sick all over the nice bed and her clothes.

 

"Haha," Sora laughed, bringing a claw up to wipe away a tear from her eye. "You'll figure it out, sweetie. Soon enough. Tomorrow, we start the search for our brothers and sisters. Have some pleasant dreams."

 

Sora stressed the word pleasant, which only made the heat behind Dorella's scales grow. Sleep came that night, but only after strange, strange dreams.

 

---

 

The morning came after strange, exciting dreams. Dorella had fantasized being her normal self again, a handsome young man of twenty and two summers and seeing Sora eye to eye in the misty voids. They embraced as he took in her heat, desire growing in his loins. As Sora bent down to remove the various parts of the piecemeal armor Dorella had worn, something seemed... off. As his pants fell, he shrieked in dread. Those scaled legs had returned and what would have been his prized manhood was gone. Falling back, he looked into the desire-laden face of his golden goddess, who had flames licking the sides of her maw. A gout of fire erupted from his would-be lover, burning away the skin and armor of the man she once was, and revealing the sturdy looking dragonborn girl, who looked no less than fourteen summers.

 

Dorella woke up in a pant. She had fallen asleep in the leathers, head still buried within her pillowy fortress of solitude. Looking over, she watched as the sunlight graced the curves of Sora, who's tail was twitching slightly, as if she were dreaming too. Her heart began to beat quickly as the pangs of lust and desire mixed with an empty stomach. Shaking her head, Dorella vacated the room quickly, thinking that hopefully some distance between her and that sweet, sweet shining trollop would calm the sudden burning of lust within her.

 

After a meal from the innkeeper's wife, a sweet, plump dwarven woman, Dorella sat down to plan out her course. She had agreed to join Sora, even if this whole theory of hers sounded like a fresh load of cow dung and she felt this terrible longing around the other girl. It was just the hoarding instinct, right?

 

Sora had awoke with a start when Dorella left the room. She had discarded the few silks she wore and slept nude, just as she had done when she was both human and male. Looking down her long, thin body, she felt pleased. The hermit that travelled with him a few months ago had done well, granted the form she had reincarnated into took some time getting used to. It was a shame her old party had ditched her, saying something about not wanting to travel around with a nearly-naked girl. She was at least sixteen summers, gosh darn it, and hardly a girl at all.

 

Rising, she drew a sigil, a spell of rote, in the air with a claw and a small circle of midnight opened in the air. From it, Sora drew a bag made from some soft material. Opening it, she pulled out today's wears: A heavy silver and sapphire necklace, a pair of disks to keep her modest chest to the minimum of social decency, and a white and blue loincloth that left little to the imagination.

 

Sora purred as she placed the necklace around her, enjoying the feeling of the cool metal on her scales. With some simple spells of adhesion, the silver disks fit over her nipples and the loincloth was wrapped around. She snickered in her head as she thought of the younger dragonic girl who could hardly keep her passions in check. If this doesn't send her off to the woods for some private time, Sora thought, nothing will.

 

The older girl began a ritual of seeking, drawing a circle onto a vellum mat with ink from a dusty bottle. Before she began chanting, she bit down into her finger, drawing small droplets of blood. As a sorceress, Sora's magic was within the blood itself, and thus required a sacrifice of sort. When enough droplets hit the square of vellum, the magic began to work. The runes glowed and an arrow of light began to point north-by-northwest, to the target of her desire: Another of her changed kin.

 

As she began to fold up the map and drawing a symbol of lasting enchantment with her still injured claw, Sora heard a soft knock.

 

"Come in," the Aurok girl bid.

 

The door opened and in walked Dorella, only to stop and look at the silver-covered dragonic girl. The warmth returned within Dorella, radiating from her stomach instead of her face this time, and floated slowly down her torso.

 

Dorella turned away, "I-I'm really sorry, S-sora, b-but could you please, PLEASE, not dress like that?"

 

Sora smiled as she heard the strained lust in the other girl's voice. She chuckled before teasing, "Why? Does this bother you, Dorella dear? I suppose I can throw something else on..."

 

"Please do," Dorella said.

 

With a sigh, Sora pulled out from the void a cloak, one of brilliant purple silk, and smiled at the other girl. "Better?"

 

Dorella's desire had calmed for the time being, thought the scales of shining gold and horns of dark brass seemed to trigger that lustful desire for treasure, and Sora, within her, though not to the degree that the outfit of loincloth and nipple-disks had. Dorella sighed, "Much. What are we doing exactly?"

 

"We ride, my sister. Or, walk, as I had spent the last of my wealth finding you and staying here tonight. One of our own is near and we should find them swiftly."

 

"Of course. Lead the way, I guess," Dorella said, confusion over this strange quest that only Sora seemed to be able to follow.

 

The walk to the new soul was arduous. Dorella's feet had changed so much that boots did nothing for her but serve to place undue strain those three-toed, clawed feet of hers. She had taken to foot wrappings, though occasionally sharp twigs dug into what exposed soles managed to free themselves. Sora seemed to be able to ignore the natural ills of walking barefoot, something perhaps due to her sorcery, Dorella thought. Leading the way with the magic map, Sora found their kin, passed out on the ground.

 

He was struggling for breath, passed out due to the binding armor that wrapped around his too-large chest. The metallic armor appeared to be that of a lady-paladin, known as a Valkyrie in some circles. Inlaid with gold filigree and shining electrum designs of warriors and angels. Dorella instinctively turned her gaze from the dragonic young man in inappropriate armor, not wanting to trigger her desires again. The leather leggings strained around a tail and large package, leaving little to the imagination.

 

Sora knelt down and began to cut the red-scaled youth out, slicing leather armor straps with her claws and pulling away at the loose tasset and tight leather. The young dragonborn boy inhaled deeply, being able to breathe once more. Light returned to his innocent looking amber eyes as he saw the dragongirl in the purple cloak removing the breast plate.

 

"Ah!" he screamed swiping a meaty fist at her helper. Sora and the armor went tumbling and the warrior placed a hand across his chest, trying to protect non-existant breasts. Dorella had heard the other girl tumble and turned to watch as the young man with red and black scales reached for the sword at his side.

 

Acting on instinct, Dorella drew hers and pointed it at the ill-prepared dragonborn still protecting his muscular chest. "Stand down," she threatened before the boy scoffed.

 

"You dare threaten Lady Khanitahl, the first of the elven Valkyries, Order of the Fair Lady?" the youth said, unaware of the fact that he seemed to be scaled and no longer a woman.

 

Sora picked herself up, dusting the dirt out of her cloak. "We meant you no harm! We're others like you who've been changed and I believe we know the cause to this."

 

"Changed? I am not changed, as you say. Give me back my armor and leave at once you brigands," the confused dragonborn known as Khanitahl ordered.

 

"But... You are changed," Dorella pointed out. "You're a man and a dragonborn now, not an elven lady."

 

"Silence child, I am hundreds of summers old and this form you see before you is a mere illusion, something an unseen enemy of mine has cooked up, no doubt," the paladin said, confidant in his words.

 

"If it were an illusion, I'd be able to break through it immediately. You are dragonic now, Khanitahl, and a prime specimen at that," Sora purred.

 

"You hold your tongue harlot, I can see how you dress under that cloak. It's shameful for a girl your age," he said. "I know of an old rite of curse breaking. I will stay your tongue and prove to you that this is merely an illusion. Return to me my armor and we shall find the nearest river."

 

Sora slid the chest piece back along the grass of the glade back to the confused paladin, enjoying the eyeful of broad, muscular chest and abs that the youth showed as he cased the part into place, taking a deep breath as it contorted and strained on his torso.

 

The sorceress performed her rite of seeking again, this time looking for a creek or river near by. One was and the group moved on through the forest to at least prove to the lady-knight that she was now a he.

 

---

 

The brook cut through the forest, leaving a nice ankle-deep place to get some fresh water and to relax. For the dragonblooded, however, this was Khanitahl's place of rite. The young dragonborn man, handsome in his own right, had once been an elf maiden of holy war and was convinced that her new form was merely an illusion, rather than the purposeful reincarnation magic.

 

Sora and Dorella sat on the bank as the youth undid the ruined boots, pulling off the tatters and maintaining focus. He walked into the water and began humming a tune. The humming became singing in the elvish language as two large, masculine hands began to pour water over himself as his barrel chest and muscular limbs strained against armor meant for a petite elfin woman.

 

With one final breath and chord, Khanitahl finished the rital and looked into the water. He began to hyperventilate as his eyes grew wide. He had fallen backside-first into the stream and began to scream before passing out in the water.

 

The girls shouted and ran to drag him out of the shallow water, pulling him out into the banks and getting back to pulling off the armor so he could breathe once more. Once the youth had been freed from his metallic tomb, the girls looked at him.

 

Khanitahl was handsome by dragonborn standards. Scales a shiny red with black edges, a long black horn growing from the tip of his snout, and long tendrils that reached his shoulders. His physique was notable, in that he was fit and in shape, keeping the warrior body from his previous sex and race. While Dorella had more of an interest in his armor, Sora began to ogle the muscle and body of the youth.

 

"Dorella, darling, do you smell that?" Sora asked, curious, but with an ulterior motive.

 

The younger girl scented the air and quickly realized that she had a certain smell, like someone who had spent the night sleeping in her armor and then hiking for a better part of the day.

 

"I'm sorry, Sora, I'm afraid it's me. We left so quickly, I couldn't use the baths and-" she started to explain.

 

"Hush, sweetie. Go down stream and bathe. I'll keep an eye on our brother here," Sora said.

 

Dorella smiled and nodded, "Of course. I'll be back in a few moments and maybe you can bathe after."

 

The girl ran off down stream and out of sight. Sora's long, forked tongue licked her lips as she got back to stripping the young man. She guessed that he was at least fifteen, perhaps sixteen summers old. Some of the younger lived races like orks call this the prime of youth, but they rarely live till forty summers anyway. It was just fine for Sora.

 

She began to work at the leather pants, pulling them and having a tough time with the tight garment. She stood up and began to pull, Khanitahl's limp, heavy body hardly working with her at all. All her straining proved useless, when her grip slipped and Sora soon found herself under the shallow waters of the brook, splashing cool water onto Khanitahl.

 

The dragonborn youth stirred. First he wiped the water off his face with his four-fingered hands, before yelling in disbelief and covering his chest once more with his free arm. He found his pants stuck around his hips with something that should not be there nearly poking out, armor in a neat pile and a blob of purple silk in the river.

 

Sora surfaced, undoing the clasp around her neck and watching as the soggy silk cloak floated down stream. Still in the necklace, disks, and now soaked loincloth, Khanitahl had little presence of mind and stared at the dripping wet dragongirl. Such delicate features and with little left to the imagination, the only natural reaction that could occur happened. Khan screamed again, this time his other free arm going towards the alien sensation in his crotch. Once more, his breathing became labored as he tried to look away and focus on his problems, rather than the feminine beauty in front of him.

 

Out of the bushes came Dorella, a band of cloth around her small breasts and a pair of cloth breeches around her waist and legs with a small hole for her stubby tail. She walked back upstream to investigate the yelling and why she had found Sora's cloak in the water. There she stumbled upon her golden goddess pulling at the back of the young man's pants.

 

"Just let me see!" she yelled and pulled.

 

"NO! Keep your hands off me you scaled harpy!" Khan yelled and kicked.

 

"Sora!" Dorella scolded, thinking past the visage of the gold and silver clad seductress before her. "You let him go right now!"

 

"Ugh, fine." The older girl released her grip while Khan scrambled away from her.

 

Khan was still in panic. He had done the ritual as he did for nearly fifty summers, more than half his former adult life. It should have worked, but the alien scaled beast she had become was no illusion. It was his new physical form. He was a dragonborn and a man, as watching the wet and nearly nude Sora come out of the water had proven. He felt disgusting, uncomfortable inside his own skin. The molestation from the golden dragongirl added to that disgust.

 

While Khan futilely attempted to sort out his feelings, Sora received a face full of wet cloak while Dorella's was felt warm with both desire and anger. "What is wrong with you!? He's clearly afraid and upset and what do you do? This isn't helping our supposed brother, Sora."

 

"I- No. No it is not," Sora apologized, looking down at her wet cloak. Her curious desire long gone and replaced with shame, Sora did her cloak back up and began to whisper a rote of drying, the water pracitcally fleeing from her loincloth and cloak.

 

"Thank you, maiden," Khan said to Dorella. "Your timing could not have been better."

 

"You're welcome. I apologize for the action of my supposed sister. She was almost notorious for being an unabashed pervert and harasser in her previous life," Dorella explained.

 

"I've gathered that." Khan shot a glare of daggers in the direction of Sora. She fliched, as if he had actually thrown weapons at her.

 

"We're trying to puzzle out why we've been reincarnated as we have. Perhaps it's fate or some strange magic, but we're going to get to the bottom of this. I would appreciate it if you would at least consider joining us, though considering Sora's actions, I wouldn't blame you if you decided not to."

 

Khan was silent. He sat on the grass, while Sora could not look at him. Finally, he spoke softly, "I shall join you back to the nearest town. There, I require clothes that do not hug tightly in such strange places and some time to myself. Away from her. I will consider your offer, maiden."

 

"Thank you," Dorella said with a kind smile. Looking back at Sora, she scowled. "Take us back to the inn."

 

Sora did not respond, allowing Khan to pick up his armor from next to her and performed the ritual of seeking once more, leading the now three-strong group back to civilization.

 

---

 

Khan had locked himself in a room in the inn. Not a few hours ago, he was so sure of everything. A few hours ago, he was just convinced that he had been made a fool of and wasn't turned into this scaled dragon man. He shivered in his robe. The scales and dragonic nature were fine and dandy, he could live with that. But the man part, no. The man PARTS is what had her disgusted the most. Instead of getting pants like the maiden Dorella had suggested, he couldn't bear to really look past his waistline.

 

Khan grimaced. Eventually, he'd have to deal with his new equipment, since going to the bathroom never goes away, no matter who you are. Khan steeled himself. He was a holy warrior, a paladin, no matter what his genitals were. Large hands hiked up the robe and Khan looked down.

 

The next room over, Dorella looked over at Sora. She was sitting in the corner, quiet like a hound that misbehaved and had gotten punishment for it's actions. Within the younger dragonborn girl, she was fighting an internal battle between wanting to pin the larger girl down and do things to her that would make a dark elf blush and feeling sorry for the pathetic looking wretch. Right now the battle between arousal and empathy would have empathy win out.

 

"Sora, are you okay?" Dorella asked, quiet at first, voice a little hush from not speaking for so long.

 

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry I let my desires get the better of me," Sora replied, her honesty shining through the depression. "I really upset him, didn't I?"

 

"Traumatize is a proper description. Perhaps you should let Khan and I take care of the talking to people aspect of this and you can just... look really, really good," Dorella said, her face heating up again at her confession.

 

Sora gave a small chuckle. "I really do pull this off, don't I? Imagine when I'm fully grown."

 

The warmth in Dorella's belly returned as she imagined the lady-like curves of the tall girl with about four or five more summers of growing. Large breasts of shining golden scale, curves, hips, sensous body just begging to be owned and dressed in the most delicate silk, cloth, and jewels. Sora would wonderful as a part of her hoard, Dorella thought.

 

She stopped herself, shaking the lustful thoughts out of her head. "Hey, I'm going to check on Khanitahl. I'll be back," Dorella said, leaving the room and the barely clothed dragon girl behind.

 

Clearing her head and letting the various heats subside, Dorella knocked on the door to the lone dragonborn youth's room. Behind the door she heard the sound of a surprised yelp and a movement of clothing. It was a short time after that the door creaked open, as those formerly innocent amber eyes now had a look of guilt upon them.

 

"Are you okay? I was just coming to check on you and I heard noise..." Dorella asked.

 

"I am just fine," Khan lied. Truth was, something else was pressed up against the door than his hands. "Is there something that you wish to ask?"

 

"I just wanted to say that Sora is upset by all this as much as you are. I mean, I know how you felt when I got hit with the same treatment. Suddenly nothing I owned fit me, people treated me like a kid, and I just didn't feel right at all," Dorella explained. "If anything, I can at least help you out, with those weird feelings, I guess. I'm not all that good at this, really."

 

"The attempt is appreciated, fair maiden Dorella. In this... transitory time," Khan said, almost paining him to do so, "A friend and empathetic companion is worth more than their weight in gold."

 

"Haha, yeah, careful of the 'g' word. It might set off your hoarding instincts. Dragons and dragonics have those, you know."

 

"I am familiar. My mentor was a dragoness of many summers, so much so that her counting rock is many grains of sand."

 

"Oh, wow. I don't know what a counting rock is, but turning a rock into sand is pretty impressive."

 

"The point gets across, none the less. I wish to say, I shall join you in your quest, as long as this Sora character can control herself."

 

Dorella beamed at the older dragonborn, "Thank you. You don't know how much this means to us."

 

"Do not mention it. If you'll excuse me, this day has left me worn out and I require rest."

 

"Of course. Have a restful sleep, Khan."

 

The door shut and Khan heard Dorella walk away. He breathed a heavy sigh of relief that she didn't wish to come in and catch his once rock-hard erection straining the front of his garment. His thoughts suddenly turned to that wonderful smile on her face when he had agreed to join their quest, despite the pervert's molestations. How sweet, understanding Dorella is, not to mention her pleasant smell and the attractive way her tail wags when she's happy and...

 

Khan had to stop and look down, as his robe was beginning to tent again. With a sigh, he sat on the bed and thought about other things before his erection subsided, but the warmth in his face, however, took a little longer. As he drifted off to a well deserved rest, the last think Khan thought about was Dorella, smiling at him.