“This is your last warning, you little miscreant,” Dara lowered her voice and took a menacing step forward toward the thief. “You are surrounded. Give yourself up peacefully, or suffer the consequences.”
Facing the seemingly impenetrable wall of guards, Treyna’s frustration began to slowly well within her. Never—not once in her life of thievery—had she been caught. And to be caught so easily, cornered by guards like a town drunk accidentally stumbling into a noble’s private garden, was nigh inexcusable. She had been on pace to become the realm’s most notorious criminal yet seen in this age; and now, her name would be lost to history along with every common cutpurse. It was an unacceptable situation, yet increasingly inevitable, as she began to realize. There was only a few feet of clearance between her and the nearest guard, not nearly enough to work with. As for the resources she kept on her person, nothing sounded remotely useful, except...
Her mind shifted to the touch against her waist of her most recent acquisition: the vial tucked into her belt. One sip had the chance to alter her fate, but with still no idea of its true function, she couldn’t be sure if it would be for the best. She had never believed in the God of Luck; originally a deity fabricated ages ago out of playful spite by the normally atheistic thieves’ guild in defiance of the scornful, wealthy priesthood, it had started to gain a small but serious following among the criminal class who believed a supernatural force actually did protect their interests. Now however, she muttered a quick prayer as she pulled the vial out of her pocket, popped off the cork, and brought it to her lips. “Please...make me invisible, make me faster...anything...”
“Seize her! Grab that potion!” Dara barked to her men, fuming at Treyna’s defiance. A pair of guards hooked their arms around hers as another guard ripped the vial from her grasp, but not before she had taken a swig of the glowing liquid inside.
Dara closed the gap between them and glared as Treyna tried in vain to free her incapacitated limbs. “What was that!? What did you just drink!?” The captain demanded, taking the potion from the guard who had confiscated it and examining it closely. Treyna didn’t respond, too busy grunting as she continued to squirm. Curiously however, the frustrated grunts soon dissolved into excited moans. Dara looked up in confusion after hearing this and noticing out of the corner of her eye that Treyna’s struggle against the guards was slowly becoming the guards’ struggle against her.
The God of Luck, it seemed, had a sense of humor.
The once-rooted armored men on each side of her started rocking back and forth as they could no longer contain the movement of Treyna’s arms. The reason for this soon became apparent as her sleeves burst apart, revealing the rippling flesh of biceps suddenly twice their original size and counting. More men piled on and grabbed a hold of her, appearing to momentarily regain control, but more of the thief’s body continued to expand as the sound of popping leather seams accompanied the clamoring of metal breastplates and greaves. In increasing horror, Dara watched her unit be physically pushed back by Treyna’s burgeoning form alone, but her face soon tilted upward to follow her quarry’s own rising face. The guards’ attempts to subdue her were further blunted they now had to pull down as well as push forward.
“UuuuUURRRAAAAAAH!!” Thrusting her chest outward to shred the remaining seams holding back her bulking bust, Treyna threw her arms apart to their full span, shaking away the grasp of the guards who were now admittedly holding on for dear life. As her frame finally settled, she now stood 8 feet tall, with the mass of a battering ram and clothes torn to tatters, save for pieces of her bodice and undergarments which miraculously retained a bit of her modesty—though her voluptuousness was still staggeringly clear. A wild mane of fiery red hair framed her further beautified face and her piercing eyes were wide with vigor.
Still surrounding her, but now a few steps further away, the guards who were knocked down were rising to their feet, but soon joined the others who were nearly as frozen as the displays in a Duke’s armory, save for a few furtive glances at each other. Dara had to take a moment to gather her voice, as a lump had since formed in her throat.
“Don’t just stand there, ATTACK!” she shrieked, a tad more desperate-sounding than intended. To their credit, the guards’ battle training re-established itself and they brandished their weapons, charging at the newly-formed siege engine of a woman in front of them. Unfortunately for them, their commander had chosen the absolute worst time for them to advance, as the blood in Treyna’s veins was still hot from her transformation, giving her a further boost in strength topping off what her immense physique already contained.
Acting on instinct, Treyna sprang into action, revealing that despite her new size, she had not lost a step of her impressive speed. However, her catlike agility was now a lionesque ferocity. Her mammoth fists lashed out, striking and crumpling the armor of each guard with more power than a direct hit from a mace. One by one, they fell before her. Some managed to connect with swords or spears, but they appeared to cause only a small fraction of the expected damage, and the proximity necessary to reach her allowed Treyna’s swift retaliation to leave them in worse shape than those who did not score a hit.
Seeing her unit collapse in spectacular fashion, Dara’s instincts also kicked in. She backed away, then turned to run, but Treyna had just finished disposing of the final guard and caught a glimpse her attempt to flee. Easily catching up to her in a few steps, she latched a hand around the back of the captain’s neck, completely locking her in place. Raising her arm and holding Dara aloft, a deep, sultry giggle emerged from Treyna’s lips. “Looks like I’m escaping your justice once again, captain. A pity you weren’t able to escape mine.” She released her grip and dropped the smaller woman to the ground, leaving her no time to recover before she brought a fist down in a hammer blow against her skull, cracking her helmet and knocking her out cold.
Taking a moment to look back and admire her handiwork, she caught the sight of a subtle glow a few paces away. “Ah! There you are, you lovely thing,” Treyna scooped up the potion from where Dara had dropped it, gently brushing it off before planting a quick kiss against its glass and tucking it securely within her plentiful cleavage. “I’ll be keeping you close from now on.”
Knowing the townfolk would soon be investigating the commotion, she slipped away into the morning fog and ducked behind an old abandoned barn. “Normally I would be disapproving of anything that increased my profile...” she mused, looking down and running her hands in appreciation over her various grooved contours of flesh and muscle, “but this...it opens up so many enticing possibilities! I could reach places I never dared to before, not needing to worry about anyone stopping me!”
She gazed into the distance at the hills overlooking Durmrin, where the fog subsided near their top. There sat the estate of Count Nimens, a weaselly man and relatively minor vassal in service of Duke Blakeney, but resourceful enough to amass a significant fortune—a fortune which he loved to openly brag was secured within the most secure vault and guarded by the fiercest warrior in the entire duchy.
“Oh, my dear count,” Treyna smiled, turning to step inside the barn, “We’ll find out just how safe your riches are from the soon-to-be greatest thief this age has ever seen!”
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