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_ Vile Hearthgloom _. A nefarious, talented alchemist, known for his penchant for foul-smelling chemicals, and bringing a world of stink to everyone around him. His prowess was rivaled only by the stink following him at all times. The nearby village of Gek had been the most recently affected, with many injuries reported; a couple of cases even ended in a coma, the poor villagers unable to bear with the olfactory assault.

After the village elders received an ominous threat talking about “the strongest stink of all time", they decided they could no longer wait and hope the situation would solve itself. After days of searching, scouts had finally managed to pinpoint where his hideout was, and sent a team of adventurers to deal with the mad scientist.

A half-orc warrior burst through the door, followed by his two faithful companions: a rogue tiefling and paladin human. The three of them immediately spotted the large figure at the other end of the room; long, black hair with white stripes, a white, stained lab coat, purple skin… There was no doubt this was their target. The strangest part was he was naked from the waist down, exposing his thick butt to onlookers, as well as his asshole, surrounded by dangerously full-looking glands.

“Hearthgloom!" shouted the warrior, “Your awful-smelling reign of terror ends here! Surrender now and we'll go easy on you!"

From the mad scientist came a chuckle, which evolved into a deep, guttural, maniacal laugh. He turned around slowly, a wide, toothy grin, on his face.

“Ah, visitors! Such exquisite timing; I've just finished preparing my masterpiece, and you will be the perfect test subjects!"

The three adventurers braced themselves, weapons at the ready, looking around for any kind of trap or contraption; they knew the menace was talking about his rumored “ultimate weapon", a stink bomb of catastrophic proportions.

However, instead of unveiling any kind of explosive, his body slowly changed, growing thicker, bulkier; his hair noticeably lengthening, patches of fur appearing all over his body, his teeth growing into sharp, menacing fangs, his muscles swelling with added power, so much so his lab coat could no longer contain his form; the front buttons popped, freeing his fuzzy breasts. He reached for one, unceremoniously groping it while his other hand dove into his wet pussy. Swaying behind him was a bona fide skunk tail, the black-and-white stripes matching the rest of his wereskunk form.

The tiefling raised an eyebrow, dubitative. “What, is that it? The contract talked about you using alchemy, not shapeshifting--"

The young adventurer didn't even get to finish their sentence; Hearthgloom turned around and lifted his tail, exposing his bare skunk butt, and with a loud squirt, sprayed the entire group in a tsunami of fluids so massive it erupted from the entire lab, shattering the windows and splattering all over and around the entrance. The group of adventurers, ill-prepared, could only cover their faces with their arms, the skunk essence splattering all over their bodies and even knocking them down to the floor. The paladin was the first to breathe in— a fatal mistake, for the horrifying stench hit him like a meteorite. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced, a mix that could only possibly be considered unnatural. It took him out in a single breath, causing him to double over on the floor, coughing and gagging from the atrocity he had been subjected to. Every subsequent inhale only aggravated his symptoms, the chemical power of the were-skunk's stink bomb searing through his nostrils and corroding his very lungs.

The tiefling was next: a gasp of shock from his comrade collapsing was enough to send him hurling, the odorous blend mercilessly stabbing right through his throat, causing his internal muscles to spasm. He found himself barely able to breathe, silently gasping for help.

The warrior was the last one to fall, though not without spectacle. A bit of spray managed to land into his eyes, the sharp sting enough to make him scream. He was quickly silenced, for the toxic air caused his mouth to dry out in an instant. Now powerless, he fell to his knees, fighting with all his might the urge to regurgitate.

It all happened so quick; within seconds the trio was on the floor, writhing in psychological agony as they were suffering from what they figured had to be the worst possible smell known to living beings. No amount of rotten eggs could rival this potent odor, so thoroughly vile a graveyard full of undead would have smelled like roses in comparison.

With a stench abominable enough to raise the dead multiple times over, the adventurers couldn't even begin to think about fainting. The evil scientist had made sure the alchemically modified spray was absolute, inescapable, a paint-curling miasma that would ruin anything and everything it came into contact with. It was as chemically complex as it was potent, a truly marvelous, genius combination of magic, science and knowledge, engineered specifically to subdue and turn victims who were foolish enough to be hit by the oil storm. And now that his body was producing it, he had become a walking biohazard, his glands now doubling as noxious, inevitable, doomsday stink bombs.

The group still had more surprises to come. The thick, oily spray stuck to them, seeping into their skin, corrupting their bodies as much as their tortured minds. Their traits grew more animalistic. Patches of fur appeared all over their skins. The more they breathed the more they changed, picking up more and more distinct layers of the unnatural reek that affected them.

After having caused dozens of plants to wilt and wither, hundreds of animals to flee in terror, and entire ecosystems to shift, humanoids had been the very last test on his way for a long time. With this last hurdle out of the way, he knew he had become unstoppable, and spreading his stink would only be a matter of time.

Vile watched with glee while the trio slowly turned into were-skunks. They would be the first of many more servants…