Blood, Dust, and Silver — Chapter 1

Tanson, a dark skinned Verandi Shaman, leaned against the wall of the town saloon. The shade covered most of his upper body, which he kept bare.

He heard a pair of guns begin cocked somewhere within the building and smiled. A moment later the window he was standing next to exploded outward. A haggard man with ill fitting, and equally haggard, clothing lay broken and bleeding in a pile of jagged glass and kicked up dirt.

A handsome and clean cut man of about forty peeked his head out of the window, he saw the bits of broken glass sticking out of the man he just defenestrated and cringed. Tanson waved at him. “He give you trouble Sheriff?”

Sheriff Hester shook his head, smiling ruefully. “Naw, just got a little too drunk and tried to get fresh with Sally. Make sure to tell him that if he tries to touch my wife again, It'll be the second story next time... And them windows are barred.”

The Sheriff went back to his business, and Tanson pulled his friend up by his coat sleeves. Dorian, the aforementioned haggard man, brushed the worst of the glass off himself and his wounds started closing immediately. “Got it!” Dorian handed Tanson the key he stole from the Sheriff's wife, then bent back down and picked up his hat and guns. “Now we just need to nip into the jail and swipe us some adventuring licences, then we'll be all set!”

Tanson frowned and narrowed his eyes. “Why would Hester have any of those?” Dorian smirked as he started walking to the jail. “Because I saw him arrest some adventurers about an hour ago.”

Tanson stopped suddenly. “Dorian, what did you do?” Dorian looked over his shoulder, winked, and touched his nose. Tanson sighed, but followed him anyway. “Seriously though, what did you do?”

Dorian jumped up to the second story of the Sheriff's office and lowered a rope for his friend. “I may have bumped into some adventurers who were in town and, through no fault of my own, left a bag of bellus weed in one of their pockets.” Tanson glared at Dorian as he helped him up. “Rape grass, really? It's like you hate decency.”

Dorian shrugged, then turned around and kicked the Sheriff's window open. “I don't think it was loc-” Dorian scoffed. “It wasn't, but that guy ruined my new jacket.” Tanson sighed. “I would have too, if you tried to play grabass with my wife.”

Dorian rolled his eyes then started climbing through the window.“Speaking of your imaginary wife, go into the cell room and bring me back the keys.” Dorian walked up to the safe in the corner and pressed his ear against it, he then started slowly turning the knob.

While Dorian was busy with that, Tanson made his way to the cells. He opened the door to see every cell empty, except for one. In that cell was a woman, she had long auburn hair and dark eyes.

Tanson walked over to the back wall and grabbed the keys, the woman in the cell watched his every move. “Are you going to free me?” Tanson stopped in his tracks, he knew that she was just an innocent bystander. He looked at her, then back to the keys in his hand.

He sighed, then walked over to the cell. He held the door shut with one hand, and unlocked it with the other. The woman tried to force the door open, but Tanson held it shut. He looked her straight in the eyes, then he ran his finger down the back side of the cell door welding it shut with his fire. A good kick would easily break the seal, and both of them knew it.

Tanson turned around before he left. “My friend is going to steal your license.” She glared at him. “I could just break this door down, and stop you both.” Tanson sighed. “You can easily apply for a new one, it's not so easy for us to get one. Wait ten minutes, then leave. Don't follow us.” She understood, she didn't like it though.

Tanson and Dorian were blacklisted, no licencing depot in the Wastes would allow either of them to apply for one. Tanson looked back at her one last time, dropped a pouch filled with rare herbs, then walked away.

By the time Tanson got back, Dorian had the safe open. Tanson tossed him the keys, and Dorian pocketed them. “Only one licence, and it's a woman's. Luckily I have a plan.” Tanson folded his arms. “...And that would be?”

Dorian smiled, and looked Tanson up and down. Tanson had a thin frame, toned yet lithe musculature, understated shoulders, long hair, and a boyish face. “You know, a little bit of work and you could be quite convi-” Tanson clenched his fist, and sheathed it in fire. “No... No, Dorian. I am not parading around in drag!”

Dorian scratched at his beard. “It's not like I'm terribly thrilled with it either you know. The licence is for a Ranger woman named Alexis Lependu, one of us needs to impersonate her and the other will have to be her familiar. I'd be willing to be the woman, but then you'd have to dress up like an animal.”

Tanson groaned, he was right. Dorian would make the more convincing beast, and he would be the more convincing woman. “Fine, but only until we can get better licences. As much as I hate your idea, it's better than staying here and barely surviving off bounty work.”

Dorian smiled, and clapped his hands. “Alright, to the Alchemist's!” He jumped out of the window, and took off. Tanson followed at a more sedate pace, thinking about the best way to approach this situation.

Tanson arrived but couldn't see Dorian anywhere, he waited about eight minutes before he arrived. “Wait up Dorian, there's something I need to do first.”

Tanson led Dorian to a nearby lot, and made a circle in the dirt. He stomped on the ground and the earth shifted into a small shrine. A wave of his hand caused small fires to flare into life within the shrine, a second caused small dust storms to to circle it, and a third filled small dirt bowls with water.

Dorian watched the show impassively, he'd seen Verandi rituals before. Tanson sat before the shrine and called to his ancestors. The shrine blurred together. Fire, earth, wind, and water became one.

The shrine took the form of an old Verandi woman. She spoke in Vera, and her voice whispered to Tanson's soul. “Young one, what wisdoms do you seek?” Tanson responded to her in his soul voice. “Greatmother, I seek the wisdom of Maidens past. I wish to walk as they do, to speak as they do, and to live as they do.”

The Greatmother of the Verandi crossed her arms, and frowned. “You seek our aid to play silly games, you would speak lies with our tongue.”

The spirit of his people narrowed her eyes in thought. “Yet, I feel this path is one that must be walked. Very well, you will receive the blessing of maidenhood, your spirit will be made womanly for a time. Remember who you are child, lest you forget yourself in the embrace of a man.”

Tanson found himself on a great plain, grass as far as can be seen. This was the motherland of the Verandi, the eastern prairie. Tanson hadn't been home in fifteen years, he looked around but saw no huts or any sign of life.

He did the only thing he could, he walked. He walked for days, on the sixth night of walking he came across a small pool of water. The pool reflected the moon, the symbol of femininity. His thirst got the best of him, and he leaned down for a sip of the waters.

He scooped the water from the pool, and drank deeply from his hands. He leaned down to drink more when he noticed his hand was smaller. A look at his reflection in the water showed that his face was a tad girlish. This frightened him, and he backed away from the pool.

He was still terribly thirsty, but drank no more of the water. When day came the sun was vicious, the heat of the plain was like nothing Tanson had experienced. The pool lay there, still reflecting a full moon in the night sky. Promising him cool relief.

The night was just as bad, the cold seeped nearly all life from his bones. As he sat there, his body shivering and aching, the moon pool promised him warmth and an end to his suffering.

Six days and nights he sat there, stubbornness can only get you so for however and the noon sun of the seventh day bore witness to him losing the battle. He crawled to the pool, he dipped his hand into the water and the relief it brought him was climactic. His soul burned for more, and he gave in to the sensation.

Tanson dove into the pool, the water enveloped him in pleasure like he had never known. It whispered womanly secrets to him, things no man had right to know, and that was fine for he was a woman.

Tanson felt a jet of warm water explore her body. It caressed her slender neck, and traced the line of her bust. She felt it glide around her thin waist, and explore her rounded bottom. It just briefly touched her rapidly moistening vagina, and rippled down her long and hairless legs.

She saw flashes of lives lived before her time, of women like herself. They sang, danced, weaved baskets, prepared food, and lain with men and even other women. As more and more experiences, emotions, sensations, desires, and thoughts made themselves know to her a tension built.

That tension grew, and grew, and grew. It suddenly released all at once in an explosion of pleasure that caused her to scream in delight until she passed out.

Some time later Tanson became aware of being repeatedly kicked. “You okay buddy? Must have been a fun dream you had, made you spaff all over yourself.” Tanson opened his eyes, and glared at his friend. “Shut up.” His voice sounded different to both men, it had a feminine quality to it. As though a woman was using his voice. “Huh, I guess it worked?”

Tanson rose, and his movements were a woman's. He walked around, and carried himself as a proud Verandi woman would. Dorian was both fascinated and disturbed by this. “Are you sure you can bounce back from this?” Tanson pouted, and put his hands on his hips. “Duh, I know what I'm doing. I'm still me, still the Tanson I always was. I just have a woman's instincts, and the soul of a Verandi maiden.”

Dorian was entirely unconvinced. “Yeah, you only swapped your soul out for a new model!” Tanson shrugged. “I'm a shaman, I spent a good portion of my teen years with the soul of a falcon. It affects you certainly, but it's just a tad more intimate than changing your body.”

Dorian frowned. “Yeah, and I've spent easily a quarter of my life as a wolf... and it's a huge part of who I am. You didn't have to do this you know, we could have done without it.”

Tanson shook his head. “I'm a Shaman, it is my sacred duty to experience all life has to offer. To walk many paths, and to make the most of this life. My wisdom is not my own, it belongs to all Verandi.”

Tanson looked at the shrine he crafted and smiled. “That's what this is about, Dorian. If I am to walk this path, I will do so properly. I will be the best Verandi I can be. Man, woman, falcon... It does not matter, I am and will always be Verandi.”

Dorian sighed. “Whatever, how you do this is your business. Now, let's go get you dolled up.”

Tanson smiled brightly, and walked into the Alchemist's. Dorian purchased a potion that was guaranteed to increase the size of a woman's bust. The package didn't mention by how much, or if it would work on men. He also had a potion specially brewed. It lessened the autumn's apple and, in the words of the Alchemist, 'rounded out the voice.' The Alchemist refused to clarify anything.

After they left, Tanson ducked back into the lot to chug the potions. The breasts he grew were small, and didn't set right on his frame. The specially brewed potion worked well, so Tanson went to the Alchemist and got another specially brewed potion to fix his breasts. All together they spent about eighty-five gold coins. Tanson wrapped his new breasts with cloth, and wore a simple tunic.

The next stop was the Tailor's. Tanson was measured, and fitted with a chemise, a cloak, and stockings. The rest of his outfit was done by the Leathersmith. He made sensible boots, a skirt, and a bodice. Their total added up to forty-six gold coins, and Dorian paid them.

Dorian handed Tanson fifteen gold coins, then the two men split up. Dorian went for supplies, and Tanson went to finish his transformation. Tanson bought tweezers, scissors, and other hygienic tools.

His hands moved almost as if by their own volition, shaping his hair and eyebrows into a more womanly style. Tanson could hardly recognize himself.

Tanson walked to the edge of town, and met a timber wolf hauling a leather bag. He scratched Dorian's ears in a friendly manner, then picked up the bag. The two men left the town knowing they were free, that the life of adventure waited for them.

To be continued...