FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

What was the point of bards? Never had one 'class' of adventuring been so confusing, or very subverting to expectations. With fighters or wizards, you knew what kind of party you signed up for, usually one with lots of collateral damage.

When it came to these wandering minstrels, it was more a question of what they did that was so special. Not counting the random acts of performing arts, there was very little such a class had to offer. Even a thief could do better social trials without having to spontaneously burst into song.

Despite all that, it was hard to deny Deiser was a badass for turning his great ax into a sitar. Watching the wolfman dance around the taverns fire pit like he owned the unorthodox weapon was certainly an...experience. Half the Hamlet had turned out for his performance. The feathered cap full of coins expressed their opinion of his skills.

Success or not, Desmond was not one to get in the way of a friend's passion. That stringed ax had earned its fair share of kills on the mercenary scene. Most of which was thanks to Desmond's alchemy bolstering its user.

They had been partners for years, but not really ones with a reputation. If anything, they were a pair people tended to underestimate often. Watching the wolf do a little spin and almost fall into the fire made it hard to imagine why. Still, Desmond loved the company such a goofball brought. If he were lucky, those tips would be paying for the four pints of ale the squirrel-fox had been putting away.

"Nice set of lungs on ya," said the bartender, a deer woman of an amply fit physique, when Deiser had finished. A few poorly worded pick up lines last month taught Desmond she liked to show off the muscles as a warning, not an invitation. "Hope you don't get that loud with all the ladies you're wooing tonight.

"Thanks, but I think I'm pretty howled out. I can always sing for them in the morning." Deiser took a stool cheerfully next to Desmond. The wolf's tail wagged with a childish obliviousness that made his partner groan with frustration. "Need another ale, Des? You're still looking a bit sober. Can I get a meal hefty in meat tonight?"

"I hate you so much," Desmond said, slightly muffled with his face pressed into the bar counter. Apparently, his partner was the only one not noticing a trio of ladies hovering just yards behind where they sat. The blushed faces and awkward postures told what kind of meat they were after.

Too bad women have shoved their boobs into the wolf's big black nose and still not gotten through to him. There were some dungeons in this world no mortal can conquer.

Deiser was soon served his meal while being more than happy to supply his friend with another drink. Before long, the tavern began to empty out, leaving them to some relative peace. People had jobs to work early in the morning, and the pair would have to consider room accommodations.

One of the girls still lingered to give the wolf's back wanting gazes. If Desmond were not having trouble telling which direction was up, he would have almost tried helping her out. Deiser was lost in recounting their previous adventures to a pair of merchants stopping in for the night. Things were a bit fuzzy, but it sounded like the one with a dwarf lich and their pinball death trap.

"Good evening, gentleman."

Desmond was about to grab his wolf friend to call it a day when someone decided to occupy the stool opposite him. Ears flicked out of sync, much like the blinking of his eyes, as he turned to acknowledge them. A cheetah woman smiled back, waiting for their bartender to pour a glass of red wine. Torchlight glinted off large rounded spectacles over piercing golden eyes.

"I..." Desmond started to speak, only to miscalculate what remained of his motor skills. The motion to turn towards her slid the squirrel-fox off his seat into a tangled mess on the floor. Limbs twitched a few times and then went limp with the onset of snoring.

"Poor guy can't hold his beer." Deiser had put his storytelling on hold to stand and offer the new arrival a proper handshake. "I'm Deiser, and that's my bud, Desmond."

"Penoth." The cheetah shook his offered hand, showing no regard for the unconscious alchemist at her feet. Instead, she took a sip of wine and brushed a stray lock of red hair out of her eyes. "I can't help enjoying your singing and stories, master bard. By chance, are they carrying a weight of truth to your abilities?"

Deiser's grin broadened, along with the rise of his chest to feign strength. "You have no idea. Des and I have a knack for the tough and dangerous if the pay is good."

"So would five hundred gold suffice?"

"Gah!"

If there was one thing that sobered up Desmond faster than pickled jalapeno peppers, it was a large sum of money. He was up and back on his stool so quick the motion sent Deiser spinning off his feet.

"Yes. Hi! We're for hire right now. What's the job?"

"Ummmm..." Penoth bit her lower lip as the squirrel-fox violently shook her hand for much longer than needed. Once Deiser had gotten back up, she managed to wrench it away. "Indeed, I've been sent by my master to hire some muscle for clearing out a problem."

"Giant centipedes?" offered Deiser.

"Rust monsters?" countered Desmond.

Penoth shook her head once. "Kobolds."

"...oh." the pair slumped in a synchronized expression of disappointment. That did not seem to deter Penoth from continuing between cheerful wine sips.

"A small band has moved in on one of my master's farmlands and is heckling the workers there. The silos have been raided, and now they're trying to build a village around the biggest barn. You don't have to kill them, but if you can get the pests to scram before their numbers grow, it'd be greatly rewarded."

"Ugh, I hate pest control." Desmond glanced at the deer, but a sour scowl told him the bar was closed.

Penoth blinked, her smile dropping. "You were just eager to fight giant vermin."

"Yeah," Deiser added with a tone to suggest she was clueless. "Because those are fun to fight. Kobolds are like shrieking baby gnomes. No offense, Greg."

The gnome that was cleaning tables across the way looked up with a shrug before resuming his duties.

"So...you're not interested?"

"Hell yeah, we're BWWWARRRPP!!" There was a good reason Deiser tended to do the negotiations. Having someone mumble incoherently was preferable to a burp in the face. The stench of spicy ale that expelled out of Desmond's gullet threatened to melt Penoth's whiskers off.

"He means we'll be happy to help," Deiser added with a few tail wags.

"Charmed!" Penoth moved stiffly to clear the fog of hot breath from her glasses. Placing them back on, it was an effort to turn her nauseated expression back into a smile. "I will meet you gentlemen here in the morning to go over details and let you...sober up."

"Sounds great," Desmond smacked Penoth on the shoulder, causing a splash of wine to stain the sleeve of her dress. "We should be easy to fi..."

Another thump saw Desmond collapse to the floor, resuming his previous nap. Penoth looked to Deiser, who merely grinned before dragging his companion towards their room upstairs.

"Can I get a rum chaser with this?" she asked once the boys were out of earshot. The deer only gave a knowing nod while pouring an exception to her closing rules.

* * *

As much as singing a merry jig earned Deiser great tips, it was never enough for the pair to live on their own. Adventuring was just more of a side job to make sure bellies stayed full. It was usually the simple jobs they stuck to most; a little monster murder here, or an escorted journey there. Stuff to keep them going without having to get rooted in a real trade job.

Despite appearances, they were not stupid either. A pretty face does not just drop in with a big pile of coins without a catch. Once Desmond had consumed half a jar of pickled jalapenos, they met up with Penoth to get the finer details of her adventure.

It figured the farmland would be located in some faraway mountain range. The mysterious owner was a produce peddling baron that found a plateau around a long-dead volcano. That made the land very fertile for supplying the surrounding valleys.

They also seemed to have no interest in meeting the adventurers being hired to save their business. Penoth gave them a map, some gold for traveling expenses, and refused to answer any questions not related to kobold management.

Only an idiot would have missed the tall tale signs something was up. Still, they rented some horses and set out gleefull for another adventure. For the cash to live comfortably for years, Desmond figured they could manage the real issues when they got there.

A day and a half passed before they arrived thanks to neither anthros having experience hiking through mountains. The fact they managed to find the supply trail in was a miracle all its own. It was overrun with weeds and fallen rocks, looking unused for the most part.

At least their horses made it there in once piece, unlike the state of the plateau itself. The trail had led them around a high ridge before going into the flat bedrock itself. Down below, they could easily make out what remained of a farming community. Crops grew wild across the open spaces, while buildings looked more damaged by the elements than an invading force.

"I think this might be a trap." Deiser sniffed at the air, finding no trace of even wildlife leaving a recent mark.

"Wouldn't be the first time, right?" Desmond pulled a spyglass from his horse's pouch. "Something's down there, at any rate. I see paths cut through the plants."

"So, we're still going in?"

"Of course! We kind of need food anyway. Worst case, some of those crops might earn us a few nights rest."

"Assuming it's not stealing from a baron?"

Desmond scoffed without a retort. With a kick of the reigns, their horses resumed a leisurely trot onto the plateau. Heavy hoof steps crunched down on the wild vegetation trying to reclaim the roadways. Every now and then, it exposed old farming tools left to rust under dead leaves.

"Everyone cleared out in a hurry," Deiser said, noting one farmhouse still had discarded clothes across its porch.

"That's the nice version, I guess." Desmond was busy eying the barn Paroth had described for them. Upon approach, it did seem like the only structure left in any level of pristine condition. Paint was peeling off from the areas relentless rain, but at least the roof and windows lacked holes. "No tracks around here. Definitely no signs of a kobold tribe."

Deiser dismounted, drawing sitar ax into a casual rest over one shoulder. "Probably is just centipedes then."

"Why do you like fighting those things so much?" Desmond gave his friend a worried look while nearly tumbling off his horse. "They spit acid in your face and eat heads whole."

"I dunno, more exciting that way." Deiser shrugged, strolling up to the main doors. No sign of a padlock showed promise for an easy entrance. "Beats rust monsters. You have any idea how hard it was to convert my ax into an instrument."

"About sixteen times the cost of just buying a sitar. I know this because I'm the one that tried talking you out of...what are you doing?"

Deiser looked back, confused, one hand already grabbing a door handle. "Going inside, right? We got nothing else to do here."

"No, wait!"

Too late, the warning came just as Deiser swung the barn doors open. Rushing forward to try stopping him was a mistake that only put Desmond in the line of fire.

PSSSHHHHTTT!!

Life would not be an adventure without the occasional insane trap. Someone had gone through the trouble of setting up a shower apparatus above the barn door, drenching the wayward anthros in a pink fluid. They recoiled in a sputtering mess, unable to do much aside wipe the excess from their muzzles. The prominent scent of flowers seared their noses enough to make eyes water.

"What the heck is this?" Deiser got out between spitting fits. "Perfume?"

"N-no?" Desmond reached for an antitoxin on reflex, alarmed that his robe pocket detached in his hand. Several small vials clattered to the ground as he watched what cloth remained melt away. In fact, his clothes were forming large holes all over, exposing more of his blue and black fur by the second. "Oh goddess, this better not be acid."

"What? GAH!" Deiser looked down and yelped. The sitar hit the ground seconds before his pauldrons began joining it. Both hands were needed to grasp the big metal cup over his crotch while the leather material of his pants rapidly disintegrated.

It was both a relief and a problem that the trap only affected their clothes. Before they could even do anything, both men were standing buck naked before the drafty barn entrance. Whatever gear had been in their pockets now glistened in the sunlight at their paw toes.

"Well, at least my baby survived." Deiser lifted his sitar ax triumphantly relieved. It would have looked more epic without the other hand still trying to cover his junk.

"Oh, good. I was worried about the essentials." Desmond scooped up what potions and materials he could, angry that even his scrolls had been dissolved. Returning them to their horses, he began to rummage through both saddlebags with increasing concern. "Um, hey! What spare clothes did you pack for this trip?"

"Huh?" Deiser once again gave that look of being confused by a ridiculous question. "Why would we need more clothes on a single day trip. This was supposed to be an easy mission?"

"Seriously!? What the hell did you pack if not food and emergency tools?"

"My trombone, of course!"

Desmond leaned on his horse using the saddle back to muffle his annoying scream. He would have liked to remain there for a while blocking out the world in face smothering canvas, but a cold wind across his bare backside pushed more essential issues to the front. "Fantastic! At least the last thing anyone sees before we kill them will be our hairy sheaths."

"At least I bath mine more than once a week."

"Shut up!" Without anything to carry his alchemy supplies in, Desmond resorted to drawing his short sword from the horse's saddle. "Let's just see what's so worth booby trapping this barn."

The answer turned out to be absolutely nothing. Well, that was not entirely true; there was plenty of livestock feed, and excrement still unattended in the pens. Crates were stacked about holding green mush that might have once been fresh produce. There was still nothing worth putting a 'be naked' trap at the entrance unless this was some farmer's idea of a prank on management.

"Dessy!" Deiser's voice broke the deathly silence of the barn. Excitement lifted it so high that Desmond could hear the tail wagging. "I found some clothes."

That is the kind of news to cheer up even a squirrel fox. Desmond kicked up loose hay in his hurry to rejoin the wolf, eager to check out their find. It became a bit of misplaced enthusiasm. Deiser was already greeting him with arms outstretched, holding clean garments.

"You said clothes, right?" Desmond gingerly picked up a red cloth that seemed to be just a towel tied in a loop. "Cloth is a crucial distinction."

"Nope, these are totally clothes. Watch!" Deiser took a black loop over his head, tugging it into a snug wrap around his chest. "Ta-da!"

"Oh good, the farmers had a fetish," Desmond said as he took a matching red thong from Deiser. With great reluctance, he pulled on them on with the tube top. Somehow the defined outline of his nipples and balls made him feel more exposed. It did not help his mood to see there were other attire options. "Why are you putting on the high heels?"

"Because they make me feel taller?" Deiser said so flatly there was no point to argue. The wolf had already become fully equipped with high heeled boots reaching his knees, with matching gloves. Both had their ends cut out to leave fingers and fat paw toes exposed.

A spiked collar and belt completed the look, despite an apparent lack of function. When Deiser turned to retrieve his sitar again, it left a view that made Desmond's bulge unexpectedly swell in his thong. Maybe it was a cute outfit, cold wind on bare fur notwithstanding. The squirrel-fox began donning the identical red clothes spurred by the thought of how he might look in them.

"R-ready?" Deiser's face went red, the second Desmond whirled to face him again. It looked like he was also feeling the urge to admire the aesthetics.

"We look like whores on the way to a sex dungeon. So, yeah, I was born for this." Desmond smirked, twirling his sword in a flashy manner.

"Hopefully, you're not too right," Deiser replied. Seeing Desmond's confused eyebrow raise, the wolf jerked his thumb behind a wall of hay where an open empty trunk now laid. "There's a hatch leading down into some caves. Looked like someone was doing some digging to go with the farming."

"Oh, good..."

Usually, there would have been a lot more sarcastic complaining, but Desmond found himself oddly complacent. Whatever material these clothes were made of brushed gently along his fur with the slightest of movements. His butt and chest had always been ticklish, so their caress was making it hard to concentrate.

It just so happened Deiser found himself facing a similar dilemma. They said little while tying up their horses inside the barn, neither really wanted to draw attention to their increasing erections. Once a few torches were struck, both half-naked men descended the dusty rope ladder into a rock tunnel that proved amazingly spacious. A royal precession could have marched through here without trouble.

Desmond glanced down one length of the tunnel to the next. Their torch light barely went far, leaving no indication which direction was safe. "Any idea where to go?"

"This way!" Deiser declared with a confidence only his type of personality could feel in this situation.

CLICK!

The only thing worse than being splashed by a magical mucus is being subjected to it a second time. Deiser managed to take one whole step and promptly felt his foot sink into a hallow plate.

What happened next was something akin to being inside a sick giant's mouth. A gurgling belch echoed off the stone walls before the cave itself seemed to projectile vomit on the ill-dressed adventurers. Thick pink mucus flew at them from every direction, bathing their exposed fur with its disturbing wetness.

Neither anthro man was really keen to move for a long time even after the barrage trap was over. Excess muck drizzled off around their feet as Desmond exhaled the deep breath he was holding. This caught Deiser's attention, which promptly got lost in the nostril bubbles his companion blew.

"So, I'm ready to head home," Desmond said in a spray of pink goo from his lips. Not wanting to give Deiser a chance to respond, he turned to jump onto the old rope.

SNAP!

"Ow!" The ascent was short-lived as the moldy hemp tore from Desmond's violent weight. What remained of their only escape toppled onto him, entangling the squirrel-fox in his attempts to stand.

Some careful clips from Deiser's ax helped with that. "Nice going, dude."

"Oh, shut up!" Desmond wiped the wet bangs off his face. "You're the one with warrior intuition. Now we're probably in a death trap that got the farmers and going to melt the way of our gear...what?"

"Uh, Dessy, your hair..."

"Huh?" The statement confused Desmond since the wolf was pointing at his hand. One glance helped cleared things up since he was still holding a clump of black locks soaked in the pink mucus. It fell to the stone floor with a wet plop as he grabbed at more of his hair, which popped off without any resistance.

Deiser instinctively brushed his own brown hair, nearly rendering one side of his head bald in a single pass. He watched the strands slide from his palm before noticing his hand. Both of them had lost their puffy paw pads in place of a more hardened covering of bright orange scales. The claws tipping each finger had also gained a whiter coloration while growing much sharper. "Good news, Dessy! I don't think this mucus is designed to melt us."

"What? Oh, son of a..." Desmond caught sight of Deiser's transforming hands and rolled his eyes exasperated. An itching directed his gaze downward where much of his black frontal fur was molting in favor of the same orange scales developing underneath. "Fantastic! A polymorphing agent and all my countermeasures are back with the horses."

"We should probably get out of here in case we end becoming something big too." Deiser looked further down his arm in dismay. Large patches of the orange scales blotched the limb like some kind of plague, with more fur sliding off to his every motion. Suddenly his receding ears perked, drawing attention down the tunnel. "I got a good feeling about this way. Let's hurry."

Desmond glanced at him, readying a retort about such 'good feelings' only to blink confusedly. Gazing into the dark abyss before them caused a ripple to disturb his thoughts. When it passed, going in that direction sounded like a very good plan, after all. "Yeah, sure. Lead on."

The pair began their trek into the unknown, leaving a trail of sticky fur clumps in their wake. Neither really wanted to consider the changes imposing on their forms, making each step feel a little bit weirder. Eyes remained focused on the blackness beyond their torchlight, a strange impulse compelled them to move forward.

Time became lost in the pair's half-dazed stroll. Eventually, the trail of pink fur pudding thinned from the dwindling supply on their bodies. Very few spots of hair remained, being replaced from bald head to clawed toes by a bright orange sheet of scales. Their sheen practically made the changing men glow in the tunnels blank void.

Had Desmond not been slowly growing incoherent, he might have been concerned about the more drastic changes taking place. Both his and Deiser's noses twitched as they lost their black coloration. Flesh sunk back into the ends of broadening lizard muzzles drawing the nostrils flush along the tips.

Ears migrated down to the sides of their heads, giving weak little flicks until their lobes vanished entirely into barely noticeable holes. Thick, blunt horns sprouted from their foreheads to form a more decorative headpiece.

Naked tails slapped against the cave floor under a mounting weight. As if in exchange for losing their fur, the muscles around each vertebra flexed and swelled several times in size. The fifth limbs became incredibly powerful the further up their bulk traveled, with the base forcing Desmond and Deiser's butt cracks to part around its foot-wide girth.

Neither of them noticed their gradual transition into kobolds. The desire to not acknowledge it from the start turned into their undoing. Staring into the black void ahead in a slow zombie walk towards it only allowed complex thoughts to ease until their minds became all but blank slates. All either of them knew was the desire to keep walking, to reach whatever awaited them at the end.

Hard shifting in their rears almost snapped Deiser out of his trance. Ample amounts of fat were dropping into their backsides, drawing thongs tight against the squishy cheeks. Their mass caused an awkward pinching as it engulfed the thickened tail bass for dominance.

Desmond almost tripped when his hips popped into a wide span for child, well, egg-bearing anatomy. The added space allowed his fat butt to fall even further out of his thong, gaining a drastic bounce to his steps.

Waists grew thin and skinny, serving to emphasize the growing size of the changing pairs bottoms. Thighs began rubbing together both from excess fat filling them out and the natural change of joints making their knees point inwards. It was rather stimulating to their already aroused junk.

Or lack thereof, as the case came to be. Deiser was vaguely aware of the odd tingle under his stomach scales as the bulge of his thong deflated. The stretch material completely smoothed out only to begin developing a wet stain. A clear indication of some biology was working under the covers.

Desmond took the alteration to his plumbing with a lot less restraint. One hand could not keep from rubbing across the front of his thong, feeling the manly bulge vanish into another purpose. Breaths escaped through his sharpened fangs in a whistling seeth, making Deiser's tail thrash to the sensual noises. They would have probably just stopped there to make out on the cave floor had Desmond's yellow eyes not spotted what they were searching for.

"Oh, thank the goddess! Light!" Desmond cried out. Despite the guttural hiss between dagger-like teeth, he carried a very feminine pitch. "We finally found an end."

"Race you!" Deiser replied in a voice, exactly matching her companion's tone.

This did spark enough of a concern to give Desmond pause, but then his identical in appearance kobold friend broke into a dash. It was almost comical trying not to extinguish the torch or fall over in high heeled boots.

Cautious thoughts were tossed aside in the natural desire to not lose to such a fat assed bimbo, even if Desmond's ass bounced just as hard with his echoing heel steps. Trying to catch up only got harder with a weight starting to press down on his chest. The slim tank tops both adventurers wore shifted with their runs, stretching outwards under growing piles of rich fats. From atop their pecs budded mounds that grew into increasing round shapes that soon began spilling out under the clothing's hem. Having no solid means of support did not help keep the sloshing weights from smacking their chins and ribcages.

"Hah! I win!" Having balance being thrown off both in front and behind did not stop Desmond from winning his run either. He staggered past the open tunnel arch into a vast room that seemed supplied with much better lighting.

Deiser's many thick curves bounced in a few seconds behind. The torch slipped from his delicate lizard fingers, its flame extinguished by his harsh movements. Both had paused to catch their breath, eyes catching on the others chest rapidly puffing and receding their rich d-cups against their barely covering tops. It never seemed to dawn on the other that they might as well been staring into a mirror. Everything from horns to clothes had become perfectly identical.

"About time, you dumb asses got here!" The angry voice barked from nowhere, causing both kobolds to jump. Whipping around in perfect unison, they were even more surprised to find Penoth sitting atop a pile of glittering treasures. Her angry scowl seemed intent on trying to set the pair on fire while spotted tail flicked stray coins around. "I was about ready to just toast you both and try for more competent fodder."

A bit of awareness slowly returned to the changed duos blinking eyes. Despite being dressed like an exotic dragon dancer, the treasure pile was more than enough to invigorate Desmond's resolve.

"Hah! I knew this was some sort of trap. Your taste in clothes is about as tacky as your...uh...current...clothes."

"Wow! Keep that up, and you might start hurting my feelings." Penoth stood, raising her hands as she became surrounded in a blue aura. In quick succession, her form warped and stretched. Black spots spread to coat her entire body, melting fur into large shinning scales. Wings erupted from her back while several rows of horns grew from behind lengthening ears. The revealed black dragoness descended her horde to tower over the pair with a smug grin. "Then again, I picked you two because I find your idiocy very amusing."

"You picked us?" Deiser parroted. Even normally, his mind took a while to put all the pieces of a trap together. At least he still had the instinct to raise his ax for guarding against a possible battle.

"Well, duh!" Penoth rolled her eyes, stretching out her bubble butts with a hard tail shake. Being in disguise really left a cramp. "This place gave me plenty of workers for food and mining, but they have the personality of raisins. Seeing you dolts prance about in bars, on the other hand, nearly got me splitting my scales. Welcome to your new home."

"Fat chance of that!" Deiser hissed, her own tail cracking on the stone floor with a whipping sound effect. She raised her guitar ax eager to work off the post-transformation arousal in a violent way. "Let's mess her up, Desmond!"

"...what?"

"What!?" Deiser glanced over, surprised to see the other kobold staring blankly at him.

"What do you mean? I thought you were Desmond."

"I...don't be silly. I got Deiser's weapon, so obviously I'm him."

"That might make some logic, but I don't remember being Desmond, so I could probably be Deiser."

"Well, I don't remember being Desmond either, so I..." the kobold with the ax paused, and then grew wide-eyed dropping the weapon. "Wait, I don't remember being Deiser, either."

The notion seemed to scare the other kobold too. "Shit, neither do I. What the fuck is going on?"

"I don't know! Just stay calm." The ax kobold drummed on his forehead, trying to remember who they were before coming here. Heck, why did they even come here?

"Okay, Well, one of us has to be Deiser and the other Desmond. That's the only logical part." The other kobold paced in circles looking ready to have a panic attack.

"Yeah, you got a point there. Wait, who the hell are they?"

"You serious? They're, uh...huh." The other kobold stopped dead, gaining a thousand-mile stare. "I thought they were important in all this. Weren't they some adventurers we knew?"

"Ugh! I hope not!" The ax kobold stuck her tongue out in disgust. "I hate adventurers. If they're not trying to outright kill us, they're mocking me for singing them a song. All that hard work and they can barely part with a few coppers. It's insulting to kobolds everywhere."

"You're damn right there, sis." The other kobold moved over to pat her twin on the shoulder. They shared a small smile at least relieved to share assurance in each other's company, even if their memories felt like an elephant trampled them. "Good thing you talked me into coming here. I'm about ready to kill some humans back if they want to chuck produce at our performances."

"Yeah, I guess so," the ax kobold trailed off, eyeing the identical pair of breasts they possessed. "Sorry, I can't shake this odd feeling about adventuring guys I knew that weren't so bad. And for some reason, I almost feel like I was a guy at some point."

The other kobold busted into laughter, jabbing her sibling's stomach playfully. "Hah! Good one! Trying to imagine you as anything else with that fat ass is a riot."

"We have the same ass, your small-titted bitch!"

"We have the same cup size too, dummy."

"Genetics means we have the same brains too, you..."

"AHEM!" Penoth cleared her throat, unable to even fake annoyance. Watching the weak minds break down and rebuild themselves was always her favorite part of recruitment. Unfortunately, her paws were getting sore from standing still, and these new orange goofballs might be able to carry on a while.

They clearly had forgotten a dragon was present by the way they cried out in terror. Like much of their actions, both simultaneously dropped to hands and knees in worship of the black dragons superior busty body.

"Forgive us, m'lady!" One said with their snout against the floor.

"We apologize for our rudeness," replied the other one.

At this point, even Penoth had forgotten which brightly scaled bimbo had been which guy. Then again, it probably no longer mattered anyway. She would have to come up with proper names for them later.

"It's fine, my lovelies. I imagine after a hard journey, you'll need a bit to adjust to your new home." Penoth strode past the tiny lizardfolk passing her tail against their snouts in a beckon to follow. Something they did with gusto. "Let us visit the cooks for a hearty meal, and you can perform a merry jig for the rest of your new clan."

"With pleasure, m' lady!" One of the orange kobolds held up the guitar ax with pride. "When you all get a sample of my singing, I'll...hey!"

"Your singing!?" The other kobold grabbed at the instrument, but her sister was not keen to relinquish ownership of it. "We both know I'm the much better singer here. Gimmie my baby back."

"It's not your baby, I'm the one that walked in with it."

"I just let you carry it like a good pack mule."

"You just jealous your voice can't hold a tune."

"We have the same damn voice!"

Penoth raised a clawed hand, but her newest servants had already broken into a fight over their single instrument. The dragon's hand slowly came back to massage her temples. Even the best of mind-altering spells could not remove all of a victim's personality quirks, especially the annoying ones.