A drunken wizard

Like most days, today started with a short trek into town. Because of… recent events, you decided to set up your small camp just outside of Turnipinn. In reality, that “recent event” was your discovery that the inn lacked substantial bathing amenities. It didn’t take you much longer to deduce that the local populace wasn’t too keen on the idea of personal hygiene either. But it sounded cooler in your head and helped keep your spirits up to tell yourself your mysterious origin story. In the same way, you liked to tell yourself that your days were filled with mercenary work and questing. That really meant taking whatever meager job anyone was willing to give you, which was usually harvesting someone’s garden or being a courier. You preferred the courier jobs, since it gave you an excuse to pack up your camp and travel to the town your delivery was in. Then you could set up in that new town, and start the whole process all over again.

Today was different though. Turnipinn had a big willow tree just outside of town. Its wide branches reached over the road, casting a welcome shadow over the already baking mud. Normally, nobody took the time to really appreciate the tree, other than you. But today, there was a figure limply reclining on one of the high branches. Their purple robes and obnoxiously big hat gave them away as a wizard.

On closer inspection, you suspect you found both the cause of his deep slumber and reasoning behind his awkward positioning. You wouldn’t be surprised to learn that magic was involved in keeping the bottle clutched tightly in the wizard’s grip. Peering at the label, you softly whistle in admiration. Dwarven fire brew was potent stuff, and definitely not for those with a weak liver. If the small amount of liquid in the bottle was any indication of how much the wizard drank, you were surprised that he was even still alive. But it was a safe bet that he would be asleep for quite a while still.

You laugh haughtily to yourself as you turn to walk away, when a grumble and snort catch your attention. Turning back to the old man, you half expect to see the wizard actually get up. Unsurprisingly though, the snoring recommences a moment later. Shrugging, you turn to walk away once again. However uneventful your encounter was, it was still entertaining. Should you ever meet the wizard when he’s conscious, you have to congratulate him on his accomplishment.

Before you can get more than a step away though, the wizard hiccups. Suddenly, the drab green pants and gray shirt you were wearing weren’t so drab! And they weren’t pants and a shirt anymore, either! Your clothes had magically transformed into a frilly pink dress, complete with petticoats and bows. Crimson shot into your cheeks as embarrassment burned through you. As if the dress wasn’t enough, you could swear you felt a corset and panties beneath all that fluff.

Stamping your foot, you do your best to wake the wizard. “Hey!” you shout. After a moment of silence, you shout again at the wizard. “Hey! Wake up!” You glance worriedly up and down the deserted road. Travelers on this road were few and far between, but it wasn’t unheard of. Picking a rock up from the ground, you chuck it at the wizard. Unfortunately you were never very good at throwing things, and miss the tree entirely. In fact, it was a minor miracle the rock didn’t turn around in the air and hit you instead. You inhale to try screaming one last time, but are promptly cut off by a loud snore.

Your mind raced to try and find a solution to your predicament. You could hike back to your camp and change your clothes, but the trip there and back would take most of the morning. By then, all the good jobs would be gone. You’d probably have to spend the day mucking horse stalls, or worse. You could also just continue into town wearing your dress. Sure it’d be embarrassing for you, but you hadn’t been in town long enough for anyone to recognize you. You could pretend to be a girl for today. Besides, girls always got the easy and best jobs, right? Oh, the humiliation…