Unearthed

Part 1 - The Discovery

Furiex slowly swung the pick-axe, the tip embedding in the massive blob of gold that had been unearthed days earlier. He was one of the lucky ones: gold was a lot softer, even in this highly unusual form, than the rocks the others were having to chip away. Once the gold had been found, the foremen had come down, and gotten excited: the gold madness had set in, and they believed that there would be similar blobs of the precious metal dotted throughout the mountains.

Muscles burning, Furiex swung again. Although he was tired almost constantly, the human body adapted well to many situations. Estimating the time down in this dark pit was one of those adaptations. Through a combination of the intensity and spread of the aches and twinges of pain in his muscles, the chafing of the slave collar around his neck, and the empty pit that was his stomach, that he didn't need to hold out much longer: the end of the shift was only an hour or two at most.

Being assigned the easier job came with disadvantages. Furiex felt the eyes of the shift's overseer burning into him, and almost sense the twitch of muscle in the stocky man's hand as it rested above the leather-bound handle of the whip he carried. It could strike out in a huge radius like lightning if he were to slack off or even think about stealing any of the gold.

If he'd had the energy to spare, Furiex would have laughed. The idea of thievery was ridiculous. The slave miners wore nothing except their collars and a mask of wool and leather to filter the air. There was nowhere to hide any gold nuggets - or especially sharp blades - that would be comfortable, and odd behaviour earned you a more thorough search. Some had managed to smuggle such things out in the past, certainly, but there was no point: with nothing to barter for at the camp, and no chance of escape, you were just dooming yourself to an early death.

Another nugget tumbled off the wall; Furiex picked it up and added it to the bucket. Sweat soaked his body as he resumed the slow chip-chip-chipping away at the main lump. He tried to stifle a cough that wanted to come out: given the power over life and death, the overseers didn't mind choosing the latter as often as they could get away with it. The excuse of halting the spread of infection or culling a sickly mouth from wasting resources was a common reason used for their torture.

The pick-axe slipped out of Furiex's sweaty grip, embedding higher and deeper in the wall than he intended. Sinewy muscles straining, he continued to tug at it, the hairs at the back of his neck standing up as he felt the overseer's stare burning into him. Amazingly, the handle didn't wrench free when he finally pulled it out; however he didn't expect a large, bulbous chunk of gold to break off and tumble to the ground. Adrenaline reaching into his meagre energy reserves, he leapt back.

A flurry of dust blossomed out of the ground when the gold chunk hit. Furiex's arm went up to help protect his face, the other hand quickly reaching down to retrieve his pick-axe - lost equipment came out of your rations, or your back - and he winced as a hard splinter injected itself into the palm of his hand.

The gold chunk that had fallen off the wall looked like half of a boiled egg: a gold albumen, and a luminescent green stone formed its yolk. Shards of green glass spiked through the egg, growing out of the stone like some weird corruptive force. It reflected the light, sending a kaleidoscope of green-lined shadows around the chamber.

The green light drew the attention of some of the slaves; Furiex mostly the younger ones who hadn't had the curiosity worked out of them. The overseer, realising that something unusual had been uncovered, padded over to snoop while growling needlessly at the miners, "Alright, you animals, back to work!"

Furiex went to start up, but the overseer grabbed his armed, and in a hushed, awed voice ordered, "No, get that thing out of the gold." Seeing the man licked his lips, Furiex could almost see the wheels turning. He wondered if his discovery would help get the overseer a bonus, growing very quiet as he proposed, "I'll give you some extra food and put you on easy jobs if you smuggle a bit of that out for me. Don't worry about the checks, I'll get you past those."

Then the overseer was back to his normal behaviour, loud and growling at another of the slaves, "Oi, you! Go get the foreman on duty, he'll want to have a look."

Furiex rubbed his hand, glancing down. Trying to chip off some of the "main" rock proved impossible: he smashed the pick-axe down with all his remaining strength, but all that happened was that his arms felt weak and wobbly as the tool shuddered in his arms. The splinter throbbed and ache, almost as if it was digging deeper into his body. Furiex didn't mind: it probably wasn't the only bit of debris lodged in his body. He knew the pain would dull eventually.

Turning his attention to one of the crystal outgrowths, he found a couple of large pieces that had already broken off from his hammering. Furiex and the overseer shared a quick glance, then he grunted, relaxing his bowels as much as he could and sliding the crystals into his body. His insides weren't appreciative of the sharp tips of the crystal jabbing into his tender innards, but it was better than being beaten for not complying. Turning his attention back to the thick piece of gold on the wall, he started to slowly carve out more of the crystals and glowing stone.

After a while, the pain of the splinter and the sharp edges of the crystals dulled, turning into throbs that seemed to be reflected in pulses in the green light. It would also pulse whenever he hit the gold. Strangely, whenever the light pulsed he seemed to feel invigorated, as though rewarding him to continue freeing the stones.

Footsteps sounded over his shoulder. Furiex snapped his eyes over, before turning back to the gold, tremors consuming his arm as he lifted for another strike. Some of the other miners had turned curiously, and the overseer's zone of menace retracted as he went over to ingratiate himself with the foremen who had walked down here to look at the discovery.

Seeing them standing there, debating what it was and how valuable it was grated like sand against Furiex's mind. His eyes narrowed, his growing rage pumping into his arm muscles as he swung the pick-axe in again. His owners would no doubt get rich off of his discovery, when really he was the one down here risking his life. The crystal should really have been his.

He wiped his brow with the back of his arm, watching as they broke off the crystals from the seemingly indestructible base stone for further analysis. He could feel each strike reverberating through his body, while these pompous idiots looted his treasure, while forcing him to do all the work.

"Vultures," Furiex cursed under his breath, continuing to slave away for the men behind him as he seethed with rage.Sweat poured out of his body; the pick-axe becoming slick in his grip. His ragged breathing started to echo through the chamber, earning stares from the other miners.His eyes blink less often. His manic grin glowed green as the stone pulsed, almost in time with his heart beat.

When the overseer barked at him, he almost swung a pick-axe into his head. Furiex found himself being pushed up into the wall, the overseer looking at him with a flash of anger, followed by a slight fear as he kept on grinning. Something slithered inside him, like a beast testing the edges of its cage. He wanted to let it loose, the frenzied anger inside, but he knew to do so would be his death. He needed to get out of here first, and that could only happen once the stones were freed.

The sinewy muscles in his arms seemed to thicken, giving Furiex more power to his swings. His sweat slowed, giving him a tighter grin. His trunk strengthened, enabling him to breathe more, and his feet seemed to dig themselves into the dirt and stone beneath them to give him more support. Hours passed; while he should have tired more, each passing minute seemed to invigorate him further.

Suddenly, a loud bell clanging brought Furiex out of his reverie. One huge crystal had been removed - and collected - without his even paying mind to it, along with a small fortune of gold. He told them there was more of those crystals in there, so close he could taste them. This, he quickly learned, was not the right thing to say.

"He's gone mad," Furiex's keen ears heard from the whispers of the other workers. "Maybe that crystal is dangerous!" Most paid him no mind, just a confused, drained glance as they trudged with the last amount of energy up the shaft. He scowled; he didn't care what they thought. They were just stupid idiots.

"I'm staying!" he snapped, surprising the overseer, who grabbed at his shoulder. Furiex knocked the man down. A cry was raised, but he ignored that too. The crystal pieces inside him sensed their own, encouraging him to get it all out,their call rattling around in his head, drowning out the sounds around him.

Eventually, it took three men to subdue him, carrying him to the surface. They checked his body over, finding one of the crystals he had secreted in there. Out of the corner of his consciousness, Furiex heard them mutter, "Madness! Why else would you shove something that sharp up your ass? He's probably cut up his intestines. Chuck him off the cliff, put him out of his misery."

Hands grabbed him, even more than before as Furiex tried to fight them off, and men carried him through the camp as he screamed and bellowed about the stones. He knew the cliff meant death, but that seemed so pointless compared to getting back to the gem to free it. A crowd of curious onlookers started to follow, slave and free-man alike, as he was brought towards the cliff they used to execute criminals, the sick, and any other deemed undesirable.

The men surrounding him grunted and heaved.

For one brief moment, he could see them all, everyone frozen in time. The looks of pity, of fear, of annoyance and some of amusement; all of them staring at him, just waiting for him to fall. The madness charged up against hismental cage, pleading desperately to be let free. Knowing he was about to die, he went up to the cage and unlocked it.

Then he started to fall. It wasn't as fast as Furiex thought, either that or the madness had given him superior vision that captured and slowed down everything as he fell. Into his clouded mind intruded the fine pattern of cracks in the stone, almost glowing at the edges; the far-off trees seemed closer, as though he could be over there in a fraction of a second if he so chose. Icicles clinging to the cliff, like sharp clear fangs. His stomach rumbled, too late as he heard the sound of the ground rushing up to meet him.

In desperation, Furiex spread his arms out, screaming out what he thought would be his last breath. The scream intensified as he felt flesh and bone burst out of his black, glowing green fluid spraying over the floor. Two large wings, coated in thick green scales and tough membranes, each scale's edge pulsing with magical emerald arcs. They beat in the air, lifting him just enough to avoid dashing against the stones and bones littering the ground. Horny spikes tipped each supporting rod of new bone, groaning as it extended with a continuous flurry of snaps and re-knitting.

The pain was brief, dissipating along with the pulses. Additionally, the pulses sent strength coursing through his arms and legs, jet claws bursting out of the ends of each of his digits. The swollen, pale flesh split to reveal more brilliant green scales. Flexing his claws, the tears in his skin ran up his arms, easing the constraints that squeezed on his body. Well-fed muscles covered in scales grew to replace the starved, overworked one trapped by his human body.

Landing on the ground roughly shredded the remaining skin on Furiex's feet, weighty leg muscles taking the brunt of the impact. The hard scales on his feet stopped him from suffering any worse damage, the debris beneath him crumbling into harmless powder.

Scratching at his old flesh, as it increasingly felt constricting, Furiex sunk his claws into the chunks of broken stone and bone in front of him. He could feel his feet expanding, but the lengthening was throwing him a little off-balance. Breathing in, the rest of his human skin began to tear off, pale and useless. Thickening to almost twice their original size, he started to lean over, loose pieces of his old self falling to the ground, he flexed to admire his strength.

Sinking to all fours, he felt his body pulse. Now that his skin was more or less gone, Furiex's body, growing in size and strength, began to distort. His whole body throbbed and ached one moment, then coursed with new vitality the next.

His face seemed to crumble, the human features distorting surprisingly rapidly as an almost beak-tipped snout formed in his place. Closing his eye one moment, Furiex opened them again, two luminescent crystals of pure green. The churning in his stomach that he'd felt for a while intensified, a warm rush bursting out of his lungs. Opening his expanding mouth, he belched out a sheet of flame, charring the skin he had shed and setting stone dust on fire. Belching out another sheet, he sprayed the air with flame as horny spikes and thick reptilian ridges sprouted out of the back of his hairless head. Using his forked tongue, he checked out the sharp, curled fangs filling his jaw.

Furiex's lengthening neck turned, his head craning to try to see all the changes happening to his body. Everything he saw excited him: his hind legs thickening with power, feet extending to give him a quadrupedal stance, his firm torso rounding out to become more aerodynamic, and everything extending out and growing.

The new feelings rushing through his mind were so strange: he'd been a slave for so long that he was used to feeling powerless and weak. Now, all that seemed so far away. Even now, he felt he could take on those greedy fools who had thrown him down here: with one breath, he could roast them.

It felt so incredibly good that, for the first time in quite some time, he started to feel aroused. Always too tired and broken to feel anything, the months and years of sexual neglect that had built up inside him throbbed with demand, his manhood thickening as his current cock size strained to hold back the appetite his new body demanded.

A weird shiver ran down his spine, stretching and feeling a throb pass up his erection as a foot-long - and still growing - tail squirted out of the back of him. He roared in approval; it was like stretching in the morning, his human shape cramped and uncomfortable, his new one powerful and lust-filled. Ridges crept out around the soft flesh of the thickening, spreading head of his cock. The growth of his tail was oddly orgasmic, leaving him panting as his muzzle finished thrusting out.

Sitting up on his hind legs, Furiex gave close examination to his cock. Now it had easily more than doubled its size, the flesh slippery and pink, the head tipped with ridges and barbs. It spilled out of a slit in the centre of his pubic region. Inside, he could feel his testes churning, each one massive as they created new, life-giving fluid.

Sticking his forked tongue out, he tasted the tip of his shaft. Furiex felt his ass clench, then tasted his cock tip again. Widening his muzzle, he strained forward, struggling as his body tried to catch up to his need as his forelegs scratched at his hole as the elongating tail, now well on towards being several feet long, pushed it down to rest under his genitals.

Gently gripping onto his cock, Furiex used his surprisingly prehensile tongue to wriggle open the tip and slide in. Excited, a thick blob of fluid fired out into his mouth, the salty fluid dripping from his lips. His body seemed to burst out, a shower of green sparks weaving around on the edge of his scales.

Closing his eyes, he continued to suck on his shaft, playing with the tip that crept into his mouth as both his neck and cock continued to grow. Encircling himself with his wings, Furiex found himself trapped in with air heavy with his scent. This pleased him even more, gently thrusting into his own mouth as he began to taste his spark-filled essence.

By now his body had been so changed, he was unrecognisable as a human. His massive belly churned, hungry for food, but his loins buzzed with an even greater hunger. Welcoming his massive cock into his mouth with his tongue, Furiex gladly found his old memories becoming foggy as his new beastly shape's changes influenced his mind.

Not all the memories did so: two prominently stood out. The first was that of the gemstones, still trapped beneath the earth. They needed to be freed. The second was of his anger at the humans who had enslaved him and stole from him everything. He would need to recover his precious treasures. Feeling his cock thrusting into his mouth, filling it with fluids, Furiex thought, "But after I'm done with this."

Sliding his entire shaft into his throat, Furiex's tongue worked overtime, squeezing his shaft and gently pressing down on the barbs. Sliding his taloned finger gently into his hole, sparks of magic shot into his innards, sparking until it sank into a particular spot. A bolt of pleasure shot through his body. Getting an idea, Furiex focused his mind, the shimmering sparks covering his body, flowing along the direction to the digit inserted into his hole.

Releasing the magic he collected to that sensitive spot, he cock throbbed and twitched even more excitedly as it pulsed into him. Furiex wanted to roar; this felt fantastic. He collected another charge, letting it flow inside him. Then collected an even larger one.

Furiex felt his ejaculate almost being pulled out of his body. Hot fluids gushed into his mouth, a heavy geyser that tasted of fire. Gulping it down hungrily, it was quickly replaced by more that he continued swallowing. Even he couldn't swallow it fast enough, so let his cock fall from his mouth, sagging on to all fours, fire pouring out of his mouth as he roared in ecstasy.

While his cock was still dripping, he unfurled his wings, straining them to their full length. Leaving a squirt of bioluminescent seed, slowly coalescing and solidifying into crystals. Furiex rose into the air, building an intense fire in his chest. Vengeance was on his mind, and he had the stones to reclaim.

Flying was ecstatic: practising in his new body, he soared through the air, dripping slowly-crystallising fluid onto the earth, before soaring up to the top of the cliffs, looming like a dark shadow over the camp. A potent flame began to build up inside, and he unleashed it.

It didn't take long to lay waste to the camp; one breath caused the entire park to be on fire, the smoke and terrified screams rising into the sky. Settling down, the flames licking harmlessly over his scales. Lowering his head, he examined the opening of the mine. Smoke poured out of his nose as he fumed: the mineshaft was too small for him to fit.

Swooping up into the air, he burned the camp again in frustration, belching fire as he thought of nothing but what had been his but had been denied to him.