Alchemical Atrocities part 3 (Patreon)

Previous chapters: 1 2

Art by: Jakkal

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It was late in the afternoon by the time Karen found herself sitting back in the Friendship Ponies commons, grumpy but human once more. A gust of fresh air tickled the skin through several holes in Karen's shirt, breaking her fuming state. Glancing curiously back between bites of lunch, Karen spotted two men striding in. They were some kind of professionals on a mission with the way they stuck out their plate armor chests and resting hands on their sword hilts.

Of course, she was not surprised when their scanning eyes fell on her, and all professionalism was momentarily lost to surprise. The only patrons that gave her more than a cursory glance were the ones clearly from out of town like herself. Desmond’s reputation preceded those he dealt with, for the bartender had only a raised an eyebrow before quietly serving her a requested meal. Much to Karen's relief, a barmaid noticed the new arrivals ogling and decided to ‘accidentally’ hip check them to offer a table for a round of ale. Their gaze lingered for a second longer before finally falling in step with their appointed server, who seemed to take them towards the farthest booth from the bar. Karen made a note to tip her generously later. She really wanted some peace and quiet to brood over today's series of magical blunders.

Thanks to losing her pendant, Karen’s memory went a bit fuzzy after she had shrunk down to a horse the size of a child's toy. Their instincts were strong enough to overpower human logic on a regular basis. According to Desmond the thought of being surrounded by giants that could kill with a thought sent her into a fleeing panic. It took him over an hour just to catch her in the jungles of shrubbery, and about another before she could be coaxed into eating enough azuchroma to start growing back to normal size.

Two more potions were drunk once she had finished reverting. The first had worked a lot like that grey potion. ‘Worked’ as in her head had morphed into that of a full horse while the rest of her body remained human. There was an image that would horrify the local children. Something Desmond suggested they do before she slapped him upside the head for another flower antidote.

Yet it was the final potion for the day that proved most horribly potent. Desmond had referred to it as 'an accidental misdistribution of equine biological fats.' Karen referred to it as 'being a fucking pervert.'

“Crap!” Karen cursed at the searing heat soaking through the lower portion of her shirt. Being too last in thought, she had leaned forward enough to press right into her dinner plate. The thing was barely visible when she was sitting up straight.

She quickly grabbed a towel and pulled her shirt to wipe as much hot gravy as she could before it soaked in. As this happened almost every conversation in the bar seemed to slow or stop as the speakers could not help risking glances in her direction. The sight of what appeared to be two large watermelons smuggled inside the taut fabric was indeed something to behold. The sad part was that this was the biggest shirt Karen owned. It was handy for those times when the curse was inevitable but still needed to look decent for a day or two with ample equine bulk. The original shirt had been destroyed mere moments after consuming Desmond’s potion. Her bra had miraculously stretched enough to preserve her modesty but at the expense of its elasticity. Another item added to an ever-growing shopping list.

It had taken two flowers and just as many hours of waiting before Karen had shrunk back to a size she could actually stand under. Slack was gradually returning to her shirt, but not at a pace she would have liked.

Uttering another curse, she tossed the towel down leaving her shirt with noticeable stains on the lower part of her rounded chest. Trying to return to her meal as if nothing was out of the ordinary, Karen broke into a blush when her twins still came to rest on the table itself. She started to lean back but decided it was worth a few catcalls to take such heavyweight off an already aching spine.

"Ms. Karen?"

The voice was so soft it was almost drowned out by the sounds of the dinner rush. A young red-haired girl had come up during the little meal accident, though only her head was visible past Karen's looming landscapes. She dare not lean forward and risk hitting the poor child. They looked like a nasty mess in that burlap dress.

"Yes. That's me," Karen said in her best 'motherly' voice. "Are you hungry?"

The girl shook her head once. Before Karen could inquire further, she had reached up, in complete disregard for personal space, to smack a rolled up scroll of cheap parchment atop Karen's prominent chest.

"Mr. Fuzzybutt asked me to give this to you."

A desire to berate this brat on manners was forgotten under the shock of such a stupid code name. Karen plucked the scroll from her deflating shelf of a bosom, recognizing Desmond's lousy handwriting before it was fully open. It seemed more legible than usual, which made her ponder why that would be.

Karen

Almost done healing those black eyes you gave me, but the paper is still barely visible. Said I was sorry for accidentally getting some breast enhancing potion in the mix. More importantly, when you feel ‘light’ enough for it, I got a few formulas in mind. Bad news; you gotta fetch some nasty ingredients. Here are a map and info on everything. Meet me at the clearing, noonish, in three days if you can get the goods. I need to lay low, those pirates brought friends.

Des

Karen huffed wishing that staring angrily at the note would somehow channel these feelings to Desmond, wherever that blasted squirrel was hiding. No excuse on this plane of existence would convince her that her current state was purely by accident. Still, this was a good sign of hope. If anything else this experience proved her curse could be altered in many, alarming, ways. There was a chance of being rid of it for good.

Perhaps the only reason Karen did not burn the note and make arrangements to depart in the morning. She turned to thank the girl that delivered it, as well as inquire about the mentioned maps, only to find her visitor had long departed. Looking up Karen caught a gust of trailing hair locks just before the inn door slammed shut. Turning back to her half-eaten meal confused, she discovered a whole stack of papers had been piled on her chest while reading. Her steadily decreasing size, plus that subtle movement, was enough to send them scattering across the top of her food. With a new curse, Karen tried her best to wipe them clean before the lettering became too stained.

"Why can't this guy do anything directly?" She mused on the way back to her room.

Laying in bed proved much more relaxing than being ogled like a display. It also took a nice number off Karen's back, though breathing would need a little more effort. This time spent waiting for the potion to wear off was utilized by going over Desmond’s delivered papers. Most of them seemed ripped out of various books, giving pictures of herbs and vegetables with their most common information. Notes were also scribbled in, where space looked available, to list off familiar locations they might be found in the surrounding areas.

It all seemed like pretty basic foraging until Karen reached the final page. Eyebrows shot up taking in the picture of a somewhat unusual creature top page before reading down its respective lists of factoids. Its body started as a long, tapered head having a muzzle filled with rows of teeth. Protruding from either side of its jaws were huge claws that curved in for a wicked pincer for holding its prey. From there it’s body divided into eight large sections, each with its own pair of stubby legs, ending in a vertical pincer that had thick membrane connecting the claws to constitute a fish's fluke.

“Wisp Barracuda,” it read. “Known to migrate through rivers in summer climates. Its many webbed feet allow for easy land movements but tends to prefer hunting the shallow waters of lakes and swamps. Both front and back pincers have been known to contain sacks of potent venom, capable of paralyzing its prey. This venom is best known as a component for curing the Animalistic Virus created by the dark wizard, Ryden in 1265; in which an entire town was hindered with various disfigurations resembling features of wild animals…”

Karen sighed as she skimmed over the rest of the text. Checking back on the other pages showed almost all of them were vital ingredients to some kind of ailment that usually manifested symptoms of excessive body changes in humans. She had to admit the small furry pervert knew his research.

By sundown, Karen started to look more like a naturally endowed woman again, though still not enough to fit into her leather harness without crushing her lungs. Things would have to wait for morning, which turned out to be for the best.

There was a plan already in her mind when dawn broke the horizon. Dressed in full pauldrons, Karen ate a hearty breakfast before making her way over to the general store. It took some bartering since Desmond already made off with most of her coin purse, but she managed to procure a hefty bag with the desired supplies. Soon she had reached the area on his map before the sun started to get too high and warm overhead.

The heavy bag thunked into the murky swamp water as Karen wiped sweat from her brow. It was going to be one of those adventures today; with boots full of muck and gods-knows-what trying to eat her before dinner. Sometimes she longed for the important quest item to be held in a cozy farmer's cottage. Maybe the home of a sweet nanny setting fresh-baked cookies…

And while Karen was daydreaming, she wished for a pet dragon. With a shake of the head, she opened her bag to begin setting up used lobster cages with bait. Each one was then hurled into stagnant waters where it made a huge splash before vanishing from view. According to their statistics, baby wisps tend to only reach two or three feet in length. With any luck, one of those might be hungry enough for her to avoid getting its jaws close to any precious limbs. Not that luck was worth relying on during an adventure.

Now the adults, sadly, required their own baited lines of hooked rope with chunks of fresh deer meat on them. They were the most likely to be encountered today. Karen could only hope the cheap sleeping drug laced in each piece will make them less bitey. At any rate, Karen left her set traps to begin the rest of her collecting.

Finding the rest of Desmond’s grocery list did not require venturing too deep into the swamp, much to her relief. Not that it made the job any easier. She had initially failed to read the part where pink headed mushrooms grew at the tops of ancient oak trees, thus had declined to bring climbing equipment.

She also failed to read the part where bees favored their nectar and built hives nearby.

One lunch break, some reading, and a lot of ointment later found things getting back on track. Karen found the next item with relative ease. It was almost impossible to miss the outcroppings of purple weeds snaking across dead tree logs. Purple Blood Weed sure lived up to its name. It almost looked like the trees had veins slowly eating away at them. A foldable spade was removed from the sack after which she began to carefully dig around the best area she could guess their roots resided. She had just about got it out when a slip in the muddy ground cause her spade to slam into the weeds base.

“Aw shit!” she said in rising panic. Almost immediately boils formed all along the weeds base, rapidly ballooning to large sizes. Karen dropped her spade in a desperate dive for the trees opposite side, narrowly missing a string of loud pops.

A passing bird perched overhead had not been so lucky. There came a started chip before it fell to the ground a few feet from Karen’s cover. The poor thing had died near instantly. Several crystallized needles had pierced through its flesh, leaving a rather disgusting sight as they rapidly dissolved the bird's flesh and organs.

The spade had suffered similar damage, giving its wooden handle a few minutes before it became useless scrap. Looked like the roots digestive sap lived up to its, many, volatile warnings. Now that there was no longer a need for safety, Karen pulled on some thick gardener gloves and yanked up what remained of the vine by its exposed roots. Hopefully, it had enough juice left for Desmond to work with.

She returned to the fish traps hours later with a much heavier sac. Most of its contents were acorns that had expanded to triple size when struck with the force of a finger tap. None of the fishing lines were jostling, so she stooped to pull in the lobster cages. Most still had their bait inside, but the last one came up a grotesquely bent ball of metal strips. It was quickly tossed back in with wishes to never meet whatever had stuck its neck in that.

The fishing lines looked somehow less promising. Only one showed signs of receiving a bite, being caked in mud, but now sagged perfectly still. Karen decided she might as well pull that one up first. It was quite a start when a snout pierced through the water after a few pulls. She almost yelped while a hand shot for her sword. However, the creature did not seem to move after several long seconds.

Karen continued pulling with one hand, the other never leaving her weapon handle, and slowly the head of an alligator emerged. Front legs followed the next tug, and then nothing after that. The animals lower body was just gone, leaving jagged torn flesh in its remains.

Just when it felt time to relax and pack for home, there came a very faint splash of water. Every joint in Karen’s body froze as she looked to see a different snout try to stealthily emerge from the pungent swamp. Spiked pincers on either side made it easily recognizable enough to tighten the grip on her sword. Another splash and Karen moved her head just enough to see a second wisps head emerging from the left into her blind spot. Unlike the crocodile, both were staring at her with blinking, hungry eyes.

“Clever girl…”

Having a successful career as a knight is no easy feat to walk away from alive. That kind of work meant lots of perils, including wars, fights, traps, and ambushes. This, in turn, gave invaluable experience when encountering such things on the equally dangerous mercenary gig. That is why what happened next was so fast it would leave most common people pondering how it had been done.

Both wisps gave a powerful flick of their finned tails in a propelled leap intent on catching Karen in a pincer attack. She, in turn, used the slick muddy ground to her advantage for going into an enhanced spin. The hand holding the rope swung wide, smacking the left wisp dead center with the alligator head. Both attackers flew past Karen several feet off target into the mud. The struck monster was extra unlucky to land on it's back where it thrashed wildly helpless. In the same motion, her other hand drew out her sword with the speed of her spin. Karen managed to duck just under a set of snapping jaws to strike at the right wisps neck.

Unfortunately not all epic maneuvers go as well as bardic songs would lead children to believe. The mud had thrown Karen entirely off balance, not helped by her legs becoming entangled in her fishing lines. While her strike hit, she was also off mark for any mortal blow. The creature sailed past for an awkward landing in shallow water, though now missing three of its legs. Blueblood stained the water's surface while it tried to regain balance on this handicap.

Karen hit the ground hard, both thankful and cursing its wet condition. While it did soften her fall, it still knocked the wind out of her. She rolled over trying to draw breathe, legs kicking about in an attempt to free them from their rope snare. There was little point; the mud made it threaten to entangle her limbs entirely.

A sharp screech whipped Karen's attention back to the first wisp. It had finally rolled back to its feet and was half-crawling, half-slithering towards her. Karen tried to prop herself up with her free hand but had the misfortune of picking a particularly weak section of soil that had her pushing up a small mound of mud while falling back down. The monster moved insanely fast for such terrain, closing their gap with little time to work a good position for her sword.

Again Karen had to work with what nature was giving her to stall for time. With a hard fling, the glob of mud she had accidentally dug into her free palm went flying. A satisfying splat rang out, followed by panicked screeching as the wisp halted its advance. It resumed thrashing about, but to little good. There were just no limbs meant to help wipe the wet dirt out of its eyes.

There was still no telling how much leeway that would buy Karen. She sat up more carefully this time before using her sword to sever the fishing line from her legs. Feet were barely pushing up on the ground to stand before a hefty weight slammed into her side. A sound of straining, and then crackling, metal range in Karen's ears.

Drawing in a breath, she whipped back to see the first wisp digging its pincers into the steel plates worn on her upper arms. She was never so happy to wear them as she was today. The pauldrons had did their job of stopping a direct attack, but were clearly struggling to hold under mounting pressure. Drops of pink poison seeped from the holes to drip on her clothes.

She had honestly not expected the creature to have fight left in it after such a severe wound. Fleeting mercy she would not have again. The tip of her sword curved up and pierced through its jaw, breaking through the cranium with a sickening crunch of broken bones. Its eyes spanned wide in brief awareness, and then the whole wisps body went limp. Pincers promptly released their grip on Karen's arm as the entire body slumped dead against her.

A hard kick knocked it away while pulling her sword out with another cracking of bones. Fresh blue blood shined off the blade as Karen managed to roll onto her feet properly. Turning her attention to the remaining wisp, she was grateful to find it shambling in a half-blind attempt to reach deeper waters for aid. That made it easy to catch up to and run its skull through in a single downward jab.

Once Karen was sure both were dead, she sheathed her sword and collapsed to her knees. The swamp gradually became still again, save for sounds of labored panting. A nice bath and a fancy meal felt like heaven after this day.