Shapeless Hero

43 - Appraisal

I squish my left thigh with both hands, feeling for the fat and muscles of my current shape. The accuracy of my imitations doesn't seize to fascinate me, even after all the transformations I went through. All of them feel natural on top of that. I felt cursed in my old life, but now... I can kick with the heft of a speeding semi-truck. I smile to myself, as I watch the skin fold and stretch under my hand

August scoffs. "Creep."

"Hey, this is what my species does! I can't change, who I am!", I whine, perfectly mimicking a voice that must belong to the original body-owner.

He chuckles. "Sure, sure. Why are you feeling up the thighs of another person in the first place?"

"August, that's still my body, regardless of how I look! And I have good reasons. I'm trying to see, whom of the three I should mimic for my new job position. If there's one with combat skills, even better."

Done with my hands, I try to move my limbs as much as is possible in our room. A few high-kicks in this shape reveal that this body isn't used to lifting the legs sideways, for example. It lacks too much flexibility for my taste.

The skills that I get aren't bad, but better suited for gastronomy, including cooking, book-keeping and some more. The rest is a mix of basic combat- and medicinal abilities. I could use this shape, if I were to work the counter during lunch at some point. Did I catalog a waitress maybe? I shiver. "Gods, I feel like a creep."

"You only just noticed, esteemed bath house ogler?", August asks in disbelief.

"Do you want me to sneak into houses at night and strip people in their sleep instead?"

"That would be entertaining to watch, at least!"

As I roll my eyes, I make a mental note to not take moral advice from the perverted battlemage, before moving on to the next contender for my physique. Thanks to my Morphing skill on rank S, the transformation still takes barely a heartbeat.

My vision blurs. I drop to my knees. I curse under heavy breaths. "Holy shit, whose skin is this?"

"Oi, you're okay?", August asks, flapping his wings, as he circles me.

"Mana deficiency..." I groan. "The transformation just sucked half of my mana pool. The other two only took about one percent."

August's head tilts up and down several times to get a good look at my new body shape. With a swipe of his wing, a screen appears in front of him. In the middle of reading the contents of it, he starts to excitedly hop on the spot. "Hehehehe! Buddy, you just pulled the main price!"

"Wait, really?" I will the list of skills into my mind. My eyes widen, then the corners of my mouth curl upwards. This is definitely worth half of my mana.

The skills make it obvious, what profession the actual owner of this body practices. Why does she need so much power for such an unassuming job, though? A few heartbeats later it finally clicks in my mind. I run my hand through my silver hair and laugh. "Of course! How did I miss that!" I look over to the commander.

Noticing my gaze, she puts down the letter, she has been writing. With a knowing smile, she asks: "You remembered my history lesson from a few days ago, I take it?"

I nod.

#

The last sun rays flicker their farewell through the fjord entrance, as Rev reaches an average building on the lower levels of Ryelope. A sigh of relief escapes him, when he notices the shield with the word "open" in the window still facing him. The shop buys and sells all kinds of antiquities, including objects, the adventurer's guild can't repurpose as equipment or quest rewards. A very fruitful partnership indeed.

The door behind Rev closes with a click, which the clerk notices immediately. "Good evening, Rev!", comes the greeting from the gray-haired dwarf. He brushes the dust off his chestnut-colored tunic, before smiling to the elf again. "Perusing for the usual?"

Rev nods. "And another thought experiment I overheard, which the great and wise Franklin might enjoy."

The dwarf chuckles. "Ho, that's high praise from a high elf! Lay it on me, friend."

Adventurers talk about plenty of what-ifs in their spare time, both for entertainment, but also as preparation for any new monster mutations. Rev decides to ask in such a manner to mask his personal investigations: "How much do you know about shapeshifters?"

Franklin raises a brow. "That's an odd thing to talk about in this day and age."

"Right? But that's exactly, why the conversation stuck with me. And now I can't stop thinking about it."

"Fair. So shapeshifters, ey?" The dwarf grumbles. "I've been there... dark times, as you can imagine."

"The question was: What would it take for a shapeshifter to learn a language. You know how vampires and dragons can talk, right?"

The dwarf rubs his chin. "I see. The core problem is to figure out, why the most adaptable species of those three fails at language, right? Intriguing."

Rev's eyes light up. "The implications of that are fascinating, aren't they?"

"Scary, but fascinating." Franklin shivers. "I'm glad it's only a hypothetical. Although, it certainly makes for a great campfire story. Thanks for the horror material!" He laughs. Rev joins in, albeit with hesitation.

The dwarf signals to follow with a wave of his hand and walks towards the store counter. He continues: "We had the horrible pleasure to hunt down a class C shapeshifter once. We were about to raze the village out of desperation, when a kid went missing. In the hopes of finding new clues and saving the villagers, we interviewed everyone who knew the kid."

"Did you find the child?"

"Yeah. Half digested on an abandoned farm nearby. The shapeshifter must've noticed us coming and fled during its meal. However, we finally had a clue: Footsteps on the muddy fields. It was then, that one of the investigators recognized the soles, imprinted in the dirt. It belonged to a child with a supposed speech impediment, according to the village teacher. We were hesitant at first, since going after kids with disabilities first is a shitty move, but out of options... we tested anyway."

A few heartbeats pass, as the dwarf's eyes glaze over. "It screamed, Rev. It screamed like a real child would, when purged with magic. It called out for 'mom', it called out for 'dad'. Simple sentences, but sentences nonetheless. It took hours, to silence the monster. Some of the investigators were parents. Their urge to protect children screamed at them, as the burning shape of one such supposed child kept convulsing on the ground."

Rev gave the dwarf a few minutes to recollect. Once ready, Franklin continues. "To answer your question: It's not impossible for a shifter to learn speech, but they have to learn the intricacies of the humanoid vocal organs first. Thankfully, we started to test children in their early years of their language acquisition, as to avoid a shifter from developing the skills."

"So shapeshifters can talk after all... I thank you for the wisdom. And sorry for bringing back such memories." Rev bows as to apologize.

The dwarf waves it aside, smiling. "It's in the past. Thank the gods.", he responds. Rev has to suppress a frown.

An hour of small talk later, the elf leaves the shop with a refurbished amulet and a filled notebook in his hands. He hurries back to the guild to avoid the nightly winds, his mind already planning the next steps of his secret investigation.