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#1 Guest_Ursula_*

Posted 06 July 2003 - 11:16 PM

Hi! Just wanted to post something *on* w/in the correct quiz...for once. There should be a part two, but since it's not finished yet, and the quiz is scheduled to end shortly.........

I don't mean to sound as though I'm plagiarizing anyone; that wasn't my intent, and if there are elements that appear to copy those of some (better!) authors' work, I sincerely and humbly apologize. Unfortunately, it's very difficult to come up w/ original scenarios for someone's body to change.

As usual, feel free to point out any aspect of this contribution that is *NOT* to your liking: the first step in improvement is becoming aware of one's shortcomings. :wink:

Warning: Innuendo, but nothing too graphic (I don't think).

Thanks! :)



* * * * * * * * * *

"Ya know, Klink, for someone who's compulsively organized, you're really a big slob."

Lady Kalinka Delryn, accomplished elven swashbuckler, so-called heroine of the Sword Coast, honorary member of the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart, and former Bhaalspawn, folded her arms and snorted. "You saw my room in Candlekeep; if Gorion heard you mentioning my name and the words 'compulsively organized' in the same sentence--" She stopped. Even after all these years, it still hurt to mention his name.

Imoen affected not to notice. "Yeah, but you kept really good records." Her hand wafted towards the logbooks Kalinka had compiled during her years of adventuring. "That's compulsive."

"Self-preservation...and all those years training with the monks," Kalinka smirked self-deprecatingly.

"Yeah, but you're a worse junk collector than...than a dragon!" Imoen exclaimed, flinging her arms in the air. "Or even Sir Eric," she amended.

Kalinka smiled at the archmage's reference to their friend Eric van Straaten, famed paladin in the Order and Prelate William Reirrac's second-in-command. Eric's quarters were filled with all sorts of collections, from books to coins to mineral samples to marble figurines. Kalinka had heard he'd once accumulated a collection of armor polish as well until some vengeful ex-squire, more adept at jesting than jousting, relocated the stash into the Order's storeroom, much to Eric's ire. The joke around the Order was that Eric would have to be named Prelate the next time around just so he could house his collection of collections.

"Play nice," the swashbuckler murmured.

"I am," the pink-tressed woman averred archly. "I didn't compare ya to Elminster, did I?"

"Touché." She didn't want to consider what the old lech collected in his beard...or in his bed, for that matter. Supposedly he kept snips of hair of his various conquests in his nightstand, but Kalinka didn't care to investigate the claim herself.

"Although maybe I should at that." The mage pushed the hair from her face. "I can't believe some of the stuff that you've kept in here. Ye gods, Klink! Didn't you ever clean them out? Besides taking out the armor, polish, and weapons, I mean?"

What...oh; Imoen was pawing through the swashbuckler's bags of holding. Oh dear.

"Demon hearts?!"

Kalinka shrugged. "I thought maybe you could use them for spell components, but I kept forgetting to ask you, and--"

"Heh, that's a good idea; I never thought of that. I'll have to check with Big E to see." The petite human carefully wrapped the two hearts in some fabric and gently lay the parcel to the side. Once more she stuck her arm into the bag, then produced a golden bauble. "What's this...'Property of Galvena's Festhall'?"

"Um..." Kalinka hadn't expected her sister to find that trinket. She'd thought she'd carefully stashed it away...

"Are ya gonna make me ask?"

The swashbuckler's ears reddened, and she began to talk unnaturally fast. "On Brynnlaw I had to fake my way into a Festhall to get information about Spellhold--well, actually to rescue an unwilling courtesan who had this information, and--"

"Klink! All you had to do was proposition a whore; easy in, easy out." Imoen giggled. "You always do things the hard way." A pause, and then her eyes gleamed even more. "I bet Anomen was furious."

"Well..." He hadn't been exactly thrilled, and neither had she, even if she hadn't had been pressed to maintain her cover. It was degrading that others could so readily think of her as a mere sex object. Sometimes she wished for some magical trinket that could temporarily make her uninteresting, ordinary, or outright homely, whenever she wished. If such an object existed, however, she had not happened upon it yet.

"Do you ever wear it for him in private? Does it...turn him on?" She winked.

"Immy!" How did she know? Not that Kalinka (or Anomen!) would ever admit to this, of course.

"Well, I'll just put it on the night stand, just in case either of you are looking for it later."

Kalinka could almost swear that her neck was burning. She opened her mouth to protest her innocence, but a strangled noise came out instead.

The archmage stifled a laugh but thankfully dropped the subject. "Now what else do you have in here...hmm, more papers...some books.... Hey, a golem building manual! You've been holding out on me; I've been looking for one of these for ages."

"You...you're interested?" After fighting all those golems during their adventures together, Kalinka had never imagined Imoen would want to build some of her own.

"Yep. We could use some guards at my Guildhouse."

If Imoen wanted to nail some of her petty thieves with their hands in her till, so be it. "Be my guest."

"Nah, why should I be? I'm your sis!" Imoen placed the tome immediately underneath the packaged demon hearts and continued rifling through the bag of holding. "What the...hamster food? Since when do you like--"

"I don't!" Kalinka had never fancied pets, especially rodents or other bearers of vermin, as Imoen could well attest; at Candlekeep, the pink-haired girl's pet ferret had been an unfortunate casualty of Kalinka's instinctive dislike. The elf massaged her forehead. "The last time Aerie--"

"--That flirting floozy," Imoen mouthed in disgust.

"--called, she had a bodyguard in tow, a Rashami ranger who claimed his hamster was a--"

"--a miniature giant space hamster!" Imoen finished along with her. "Ya know, that sounds kinda familiar...?" She looked interrogatively towards the swashbuckler.

"Yes, yes; he's the wacked ranger we met in Nashkell and rescued later on from Irenicus' lab."

"Oh right, the big bald guy with the loud voice and a bullseye painted on his head," Imoen's voice squeaked upwards in excitement.

"Uh-huh."

"With such a big guy at her beck and call, ya think she'll stop hitting on Anomen?"

"Immy!" Kalinka tried to sound shocked, but she quite agreed with her sister: it was about time for their former companion to realize that Anomen was taken, that he was irrevocably bound to her, Kalinka, in holy matrimony. She and Anomen had practiced restraint, hoping the avariel would twig without any embarrassing scenes, but this tactic hadn't worked.

"Anyway, the last time he was here, he ran out of hamster treats and went into such a rage; he almost demolished the parlour." It had been a particularly bad time to wreck the house, too: Anomen had just recovered some of his mother's and Moira's heirlooms whence Cor had sold them, only to watch the raving simpleton smash said items into smithereens. The priest had not appreciated the damage. After dressing down an artfully sobbing Aerie, he'd hired freelance mages to repair the damage. "I thought I'd have some spare snacks on hand, just in case..."

"Good idea." The archmage laid the hamster food on Kalinka's bed. "Maybe you should put these where you can find them in a hurry; this bag's not gonna cut it, too cluttered."

"Maybe," was Kalinka's noncommittal response.

Imoen returned to her perusal of the bag's contents. "So did you invite them? Are they gonna be coming over tonight?"

Kalinka nodded silently. Her head ached from imagining the ranger's stentorian tones. She wished she could convince Anomen to "Silence" the ranger. Hopefully Helm wouldn't mind this (mis-)application of a holy prayer. Would he? ... Kalinka sighed; she knew better than that! She would just have to endure. Unless...unless she hinted hard enough and Immy took it upon herself to drug Minsc's drink. That was an idea.

"If I can clean out this bag, maybe you can stick the two of 'em inside, then I can ship 'em off to Maztica or something."

"'Or something,' eh? That has a rather permanent ring to it," Kalinka bantered.

"Doesn't it?" Imoen smirked wickedly. Of course they'd never do such a thing, but it felt liberating just to joke about it.

The rustling within the bag of holding stopped. "What the..." Imoen breathed. "It can't be...KALINKA DELRYN, WHAT THE FREAK ARE YA DOIN' WITH THE NETHER SCROLL?!"

"Huh?" Kalinka's thoughts raced. Nether Scroll?! At first that did not sound familiar to her at all, and she considered leafing through her logs. Just as she internally conceded defeat, however, a glimmer of recognition grew steadily brighter. "Oh, right! Some Red Wizard," an obnoxious conjurer named something effeminate like Edward or Edmund, "asked us to find this for him, and my party wound up stumbling across it in the Athkatlan catacombs. Keldorn said the scroll was too powerful to hand over to just anyone, especially not a Red Wizard, so..." The elf shrugged. At the time, she had sincerely believed she would destroy the thing, but then came Spellhold, the Underdark, Suldanesselar, and her adventures in Tethyr. She had totally forgotten the scroll's existence, much less that she held it within her possession.

The front door slammed below, and Kalinka could make out the heavily accented ravings of Aerie's bodyguard. The elf sighed. Her sister, on the other hand, didn't appear to have noticed the din caused by the arrivals.

Imoen's eyes glittered speculatively. "Do ya know what kind of stuff I could do with this?"

"I don't know why you're getting so worked up over it. You never were this excited about the Wish scrolls--"

"Yeah, but the Wish scrolls...with the Wish scrolls, you're basically asking someone to do something for you. But with the Nether Scroll, I'd be touching the strands of the Weave all by myself. I'd be working the Weave to my will, instead of asking some Djinn to do my a favor. It makes all the difference." The archmage's face remained fixed in a rapt rictus.

"Really?"

"Really. Hey, I could show ya."

In Kalinka's opinion, those were the scariest words in any mage's vocabulary. "Um, no thank you," she quickly responded.

"C'mon, it wouldn't be any problem." A forced chuckle. "It's not like I'm Aerie, Nalia, Jan, or someone."

The elf would agree with Imoen's second assertion, but still hesitated on the first. She'd encountered too many wizardly claims gone awry over the years. "Well," she temporized.

"Look, if it'll make ya feel better, I'll even drink some Genius Potions and Potions of Insight beforehand."

"I don't know--"

Imoen face brightened. She probably suspected her sister was about to crack, Kalinka reflected sourly. "I know. You're probably worried I'll do something permanent to your house or something--"

Yes, it was the "or something" that scared Kalinka. In thaumaturgy, surprises meant disaster.

"--but I swear ya, I can make the effect of this scroll temporary."

"Really?"

"Uh-huh. I'll make that the first cadence of any incantation I cast. So! How's that sound?"

Why did she allow herself to get talked into these things? No one but Immy could convince the stolid swashbuckler to take leave of her senses. "Oh, alright."

"Great! You won't regret it, I promise."

Kalinka mumbled, "We'll see."

Imoen didn't respond. Instead, the mage surveyed the interior of the Delryn budoir. "Ick! These walls are kinda drab, aren't they?"

"I've always thought they were mustard," Kalinka needled her.

"Oh, you! Haven't you ever wanted to change the paint job?"

Kalinka didn't bother to answer. Her sibling had heard the elf complain enough about "that nauseating yellow" to apprehend that the wall's hues did not produce unbridled joy within Kalinka's breast.

"Let's see ..." The archmage gulped down two vials of murky potion, consulted the scroll, and launched into her chant just before Kalinka could beg her not to do anything foolish. Once the girl began her spell, however, Kalinka remained silent. The former adventurer knew that only ill could result from an interrupted incantation.

A moment after Imoen stopped talking, the bedroom walls shimmered, then turned pink.

Pink.

Not sage; not mocha, aqua, seafoam, or even cream.

Pink.

"Um..."

"Wait, that's not all!" In a flurry of transmutation, the mustard-colored curtains became dainty white drapes, and the fabric of the plain bed coverlet turned into laced-adorned pink satin. "Isn't this pretty?" Imoen gushed.

"Lady Maria would love it. I--it's not bad," the elf conceded, not a little surprised. She didn't consider herself overly feminine, but the new color scheme easily trumped the old one. Anomen likely would not agree, however; he had selected the original paint, hadn't he? It was therefore with considerable relief that the bedroom reverted to its normal state within a minute of the spells' casting.

"We could have so much fun with this!" Imoen gleefully swung her arms in unison even as she skipped through the room.

"Sorry; 'we'?" Kalinka would not allow herself to get roped into Imoen's schemes again.

"Where to begin?" Imoen mused sotto voce. "I could transfigure one of these hearts into a turnip, then give it to Jan Jansen. Hmm, would the fake turnip taste like turnip or demon offal? I wonder... Or I could turn Big E's hat into a living, breathing buzzard...but he doesn't have a sense of humor. Or I could...hey, I know!" she exclaimed. She oggled her sister speculatively.

"Whatever it is, no."

"But I haven't even--"

"No," Kalinka firmly maintained.

"C'mon Klink; you'd find it a real hoot."

Somehow Kalinka doubted this. "Uh-huh," she articulated sarcastically as she folded her arms.

"I'm serious," the former thief pouted. "You're always complaining how boring coffee hour is, right?"

Kalinka grunted noncommitally. She feared conceding too much to her persuasive sister, lest Immy use the elf's words against her.

"How many times have you told me how much you hated hosting these things, or that you wished you were someone else? Well, for just one coffee hour, you'd have your chance. How's about us changing identities for the next five hours?"

"It's possible?"

Imoen nodded decisively.

Kalinka's mind rushed through the possibility: a coffee hour without being oggled or flirted at by Athkatla's most influential religionists; a coffee hour without worrying whether her guests were properly entertained; a coffee hour without the restraints of her new aristocratic title or her honorary Order membership. This sounded too good to be true, which meant...

"What's the catch?"

"I dunno what you're driving at," Imoen protested.

"What's in it for you?" Kalinka persisted. "Why would you put yourself in my stead, when you hate formal functions almost as much as me?" The elf fastened her most forbidding expression to her countenance. "You're not going to play pranks, are you?"

"I'm shocked you would think--"

Imoen's attempt at simulating wounded pride did not convince Kalinka at all. "Well?"

"Oh, alright. There's this guy who always goes to your shindigs, see? I kinda...well, I think he's sorta cute. There! But I can never talk to him, at least not in private: he's either dogging your steps, or hanging out with Sir Ryan--"

"Eric van Straaten," Kalinka breathed.

"--and I just wanna see...well, what he's really like, if maybe I have a chance, or what. So now you know," Imoen finished miserably.

That sounded sweet, Kalinka thought. The more she considered the matter, the more she believed that maybe the two of them would make a good match. She hadn't missed those looks Immy kept casting in the paladin's direction.

"Very well," Kalinka conceded; Imoen yipped her joy, "provided that you promise not to directly ask him his feelings for you."

"Aw, Klink!"

"It would be a betrayal of trust," the elf insisted stubbornly. "Promise, otherwise no deal."

"Oh, alright," Imoen whined. "Ya know, that Watcher of yours has been a bad influence on you."

"So I've been told," Kalinka's lips twitched.

The pink-haired woman looked downwards. "And I--and I know you're going out on a limb and all, trusting me with your form. I haven't always had the best track record." The archmage now caught her sister's eye and stared at her with uncharacteristic sobriety. "I swear to you, sis, I won't do anything to compromise your dignity."

"Oh, Imoen." Tears stung within Kalinka's eyes. "I believe you." They clutched each other in a sudden hug.

"Ow! Klink, you're jabbing my ribs!"

They separated. The swashbuckler looked down to her side and realized that she had not taken off her longsword yet. "Um, whoops."

"Hey, isn't that my line?" Imoen quipped.

"It had better not be!" Kalinka admonished with a grin as she removed her weapon and lay it on the bed, pointing it towards the demon hearts. "Ready?"

"Yep."

The diminuative human closed her eyes, took several cleansing breaths, then opened her eyes. She focused on the scroll before her, made sinuous gestures even while her voice mistily articulated the arcane words. Kalinka sensed that Imoen had nearly completed her incantation when the budoir door opened.

D*mn; it was that Minsc fool! Get out; GET OUT!

Imoen's eyes flickered, but she did not lose her concentration, praise Helm. Kalinka mentally recited a prayer of thanks to the Great Guard.

"Oooh, look who you have found, Boo: the pretty elf lady and her frie--" The freakish ranger accidentally jostled Imoen.

"Eep!"

These were the last words Kalinka heard before pain overwhelmed her senses, and she crumpled to the floor. All of a sudden she felt as though some vast cosmic power were melting, stretching her body -- except for her scalp, where her hair pushed relentlessly inwards. She had lain dying on many a battlefield, but never had she dissolved so completely into pain. She sought to shriek her agony, but she couldn't move her mouth; her jaws -- no, all the contours of her face -- dissolved, flowed outwards, then resolidified.

"Klink?!" a desperate voice screamed. "Oh gods, Klink! C'mon, you've gotta be alright. Please be okay; if you're okay I'll never ever do anything like this again! Mystra, please help me! Helm, you can't let her die, not this way..."

The change seemed to have stopped; the pain remained at a constant albeit endurable level, and she found she could breathe once more. Kalinka hungrily sucked in air, then opened her eyes.

Imoen squatted over Kalinka's prone form. The elf concentrated on regaining enough breath and banishing the dizzy sensation before she tried to reassure her sister.

"Immy, I'm alri--" Kalinka stopped talking; her voice seemed...odd. She frowned but couldn't quite determine the problem.

"Anomen's gonna kill me," Imoen glumly announced. "At least you're alive--"

"What's going on?" There! It wasn't her imagination; her voice did sound different, deeper somehow.

"--I mean, how was I to know that the nut-job ranger would blunder into the midst of the spell?--"

"Excuse me?"

"--Everything was going peachy 'til he stuck his worthless head in--"

"Imoen?"

"--And what kind of ranger barges into a private bedroom anyway--"

"Imoen!"

"--Unless that's what Aerie's been training him at--"

"IMOEN!" She could yell louder now than before, Kalinka realized, but then shunted the inconsequential thought into a corner of her mind.

"Okay, okay; geez! Whaddaya want? You almost gave me a stroke there, twice!"

"What's going on?"

The sulking girl averted her gaze from Kalinka's. "Well, er, Minsc interrupted my spell."

"I know." Kalinka kept her tone soft, deliberately not sarcastic. Rattling her sister any more would avail no one just now. "And?"

"The change...well, it didn't go the way I thought it would, not at all. But it would've gone just well if--"

The swashbuckler intervened before her sister regressed back into her panicked monologue. "Imoen?"

"Alright, alright! I still look like me, but you don't look like you."

"Meaning?"

A figure rose from next to Imoen: a comely young lady actually, of elven heritage, although--

"No. No. No," Kalinka chanted steadily as if it were a mantra. She rose from the floor and stood slowly so as to avoid any dizziness. Peering down at her sister and this, this "woman" from on high, the adventurer knew instinctively what had occured; the gods only knew why she chose to confirm her suspicions by surveying her reflection in the mirror.

Yes, it was as she had feared: a massive, bald, decidedly male warrior stood, staring back at her from the looking glass. How odd, Kalinka thought detachedly, to finally see intelligence reflected back in Minsc's usually vacant gaze. With a preternatural calm, the former-elf inquired, "You can fix this, right?"

The archmage nibbled a lock of her pink hair. "I dunno--don't look at me like that! It'll wear off on its own in five hours. I just don't want to mess around with the spell in case it becomes kinda permanent," she admitted.

"Hmm, wasn't it your 'messing around' that caused the situation to begin with?" Kalinka wished to retort, but didn't. Spilled milk, water under the bridge...if she kept reciting these phrases, maybe she'd believe it.

"C'mon, say something! Get mad or...or something," Imoen pled guiltily. "I can't stand it when you're so calm."

What was there to say? Getting mad wouldn't change their plight. Nor could the once-swashbuckler comfort her sister, because things weren't alright, at least not yet. Perhaps five hours from now when the incantation wore off, perhaps then Kalinka could forgive and forget, but not now.

Squeak-squeak-squeak. A very revolted Kalinka-looking-like-Minsc watched the Minsc-looking-like-Kalinka remove a hamster from his pocket, nod jerkily, then affix Imoen with a chilling glare. "Boo is wondering why the pretty pink witch stole Minsc's butt-kicking body." The former elf winced at the shrill note. She sincerely hoped she didn't sound like that when she was angry.

"Er...ah...why don't I go get Aerie, huh?" And with those words Imoen fled the chamber.

More squeaks. "Boo wants to know, can he have some of those hamster treats? This is all very confusing, and Boo does his best thinking on a full belly."

Kalinka laughed shortly and gestured towards the bed. "Be my guest." Why shouldn't he share some hamster food? They were already sharing bodies!

#2 Guest_Aurelius_*

Posted 06 July 2003 - 11:33 PM

:wink: :) :wink: :wink: :wink: :roll:

Oh my God! I haven't laughed like that in a long time! Minsc in an elf body! Big E and his collection! :roll: :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol:

This was wonderful! :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol:

#3 Guest_Ursula_*

Posted 07 July 2003 - 02:06 AM

:wink: :) :wink: :wink: :wink: :roll:

Oh my God! I haven't laughed like that in a long time! Minsc in an elf body! Big E and his collection! :roll: :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol:

This was wonderful! :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol:


Thank you very much. :D I'm bummed that the second part isn't going so smoothly. It would've entailed Kalinka-Minsc and Minsc-Kalinka at the coffee hour. I wish I could do humor like Laufey & Weyoun. ::sigh::

Once again, I appreciate your generous feedback, and I'm glad you enjoyed this. What's the saying? Laughter is the best medicine?




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