[SoylentOrange]

And here we are, the last update! Hope you all enjoyed this little vignette, it'll be cleaned up and posted to DA once the pics are done.

Please leave a comment! ^^;
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"YES! YES! OH GODS, YES!" Copperpot screamed from her room, the halfling's voice nearly rattling the windows.
"So what would you say, out of ten?" Jillian asked from her seat in the corner of the large bedroom. "Seven? Eight?"
"Jillian," Celia admonished, sipping her tea and putting the cup back on the saucer, "You shouldn't make fun of Copperpot just because of her curse."
"You sure you'd call it a curse?" Jillian asked, wrapping her hand around an apple and absorbing it into her arm, the fruit digested seeds and all before it even reached her shoulder. "She seems to be enjoying herself. And I told you I don't like you using my real name when we're in town, we've got an image to protect."
Celia rolled her eyes. "Just because it's fun doesn't mean it's not a curse, and I'm not going to call you by your rival's name just so people think she's... whatever you are," She said. Celia believed it was the wording she'd chosen when she was using her wish on Copperpot, the way she'd wished for her to be able to hide, that had left her in her current predicament. It turned out that Copperpot's enormous bosoms hadn't vanished, they'd been drawn into her, and in keeping all of that sensitive flesh stored somewhere inside her, it had inflamed the halfling's libido. The more she kept inside her, the more intense it got, so outside of her theiving duties, Copperpot tended to keep herself as large as she could and still walk, which actually wound up helping her sometimes. Her bosoms were so large that often she could use them as distractions, her marks so enraptured through either lust, revulsion, or befuddlement at her enormous size that they wouldn't even recognize she was fleecing them.

The door swung open, and two very-exhausted humans and a traumatized elf stumbled half-dressed out of Copperpot's room, each clutching a small bag of gold. The elf looked over at Celia, fear and disgust fighting for space on his features.
"Oh!" Celia said, perking up. "Could you come here, please?"
The Elf froze, his eyes going wide and looking to the two humans he was with, their pace suddenly quickened as they disappeared down the stairs.
"Uhmm, uhh... yes?" He squeaked, his tunic only half-on and his trousers barely laced.
"Could you come here, please?" Celia repeated, rising from her seat and turning towards the entryway to the room.
The elf took a few shaky steps forward, looking Celia up and down, eyes eventually locking on the metal heart-shaped pendant hung around her neck. With Celia up on all eight legs, the elf was only eye-level with her lower set of breasts, and if Celia hadn't known better she'd have thought he was ogling her.
"Please take this to the barkeep," Celia said, turning to get into her coin purse and trying to ignore the elf's fearful flinch when she did. "I want to make sure my... friends are well cared for," She said as she counted out the coins in her hands.
"I, uh, I'm sure I speak for all of us, um, when I- we- say it's on the house," He said, taking a step back.
"No, none of that," Celia said, tucking the coins into a neat stack and pinching then between all of her fingers, putting the rest back in her pouch with the other hand. "I insist."
"N-no, really," He said, taking another step back. "We, ah, i-it's an honor, yes, an honor, to allow us to, ah, um, host such, uh, noteworthy adventurers."
Celia grimmaced, about to protest some more, but she stopped herself. Insead she just looked at the elf and slowly brought her hand up to her holy symbol, the elf sucking a terrified breath through his nose as her hand hovered above it.
"...I'd hate to have to get upset over this," She said, holding her other hand out to the elf. Eyes darting between the symbol and the coins, he quickly cupped his hands underneath her outstretched hand, Celia dropping the coins in.
"There now, that wasn't so hard, was it?" She asked.
"N-no, Mistress Silkeye," The elf said, backing up and bowing, his hands still cupped. "Th-thank you, Mistress Silkeye."
Celia waited until she heard the elf's hurried footsteps down the stairs before turning to Jillian and rolling her eyes again.
"'Mistress', now," She sighed, dropping back down onto the cushions in front of her table. "It's bad enough that one mispronunciation turned me from 'Celia' to 'Silkeye', but now 'mistress', too? Where do they get this stuff?"
"That one was mine," Copperpot said as she pushed her way through the door, rubbing her washed hair with a towel while her knee-length breasts wobbled in front of her trousers.
"Feel better?" Jillian asked, biting an ear of corn in half.
"You bet," Copperpot grinned. "They're good at their trade in this town."
Celia rolled her eyes yet again and sipped her tea as Copperpot came over to the table, flopping down atop her breasts and snuggling them.

In the months since the crypt of the Maag, their little band had earned something of a reputation, and it seemed to travel much faster than they did. It had started without them, but after the rumors reached their ears, Copperpot would go out and reaffirm the parts of it they liked and leave out the parts they didn't, shaping their own legend bit by bit. Of couse, in the beginning, they'd tried to quash the rumors, but they'd found it was like trying to box up the wind; they were just too much of an oddity to not leave tongues waggling.
"So why is it 'Mistress' now?" Celia asked.
"Mistress?" Came a voice from outside their window. "This I gotta hear..."
With a sound of creaking wood, Rena's face appeared in the window, her shoulders disappearing past the sides of the opening.
"How'd you get up here?" Jillian asked.
"Saw a wagon out front, just pulled it over here and stood on it," Rena said, leaning back from the window to take a swig off the keg of mead she held between her hands.
"Watch yourself, meathead," Copperpot snickered, turning a bit to rest her head on an elbow. "If you fall off that thing and land on your head, we'll have to come dig you out of the underdark."
"Haw!" Rena guffawed. "I wouldn't mind- could use a good fight. Drinking's not as much fun when you can't get into a barfight afterwards." She took another swig, burping afterwards. "I mean, you can, but they're no *fun*. Being the best is one thing; squishing bugs is just boring. No real warrior gets anything out of pointless fighting."
"If I ever hear of a bar for sand giants with an arena, you'll be the first I tell, meathead," Copperpot said.

"So, again, why 'Mistress'?" Celia asked.
"Ah, right," Copperpot said, bouncing herself a few times to turn towards the whole group. "Well, okay, so there's this drider queen- because even if there was a spell to transform someone into a drider, why would they ever use it?- who's run afoul of some god or other. Never really know which one to say, I was never big on the pantheons, short of the occasional prayer to Brandobaris the guards don't catch me. Anyway, the god was going to smite this drider for some reason or another, and the drider, being cunning, bargained with the god, offering that if she could take away everything about her that the god hated, would he spare her life? The god laughed at the drider and agreed, thinking it impossible, but in a fortnight the drider queen had expelled everything about her that the god hated. From her expelled anger came the monster Stonemasher-"
"Stone*gnasher*!" Rena corrected. "Gnash! Like between your teeth! 'Mashing' sounds like, well, like something you do with those," She said.
"I stand corrected," Copperpot said sardonically. "So she created Stone*gnasher*," she said, shooting Rena a look, "By infusing all her anger and violence into an orc slave of hers."
"I don't like this part," Rena harrumphed.
"Drow and orcs don't just hang out," Copperpt said, rolling her eyes. "You can be a slave or a captive, ain't no other reason she'd have an orc handy."
"Can it be that I was bested in combat?" she asked. "At least then I went down fighting."
"Oh, by the nine hells, what a prima donna," Copperpot said, throwing her hands up and letting her arms fall back against her breasts. "Fine. A mgihty warrior she had captured. Happy?" Copperpot continued without waiting for confirmation. "Into a human, or some other demihuman race, depending on who I want to scare, she put all her hunger for power, and that created jiggles over there, and finally, her libido went into an unlucky thief," she finished, gesturing to herself.
"Bra-vo," Jillian said. "Perhaps I should commission a bard to make a song out of it."
"Heh. But the best part is that after completing the god's gambit, he gave her an amulet to store these essences, and to control them. What's more, the god said that if there was any other part of herself she didn't like, she could give that away as well, turning another victim into the embodiment of one of her poor qualities. And all it would do is give her another scar- just like the teardrop on her cheek, gaining the ability to cry at the misfortune of others, the blind eye to stop her lusting after wealth, and the chains around her fingers to allow power to slip through them."
Celia nodded, sipping her tea. That was the part that even the most rumor-adverse villager seemd to know: If you saw a drider in priestess' garb reach for her metal heart, you ran. She hated to strike fear into the hearts of people, but it had helped to defuse a few situations where otherwise Rena would have had to go in swinging. And the bit about the scars was a nice touch, too- Celia had considered trying to get them magically healed, but decided she liked the mementos of their trip to the tomb of Maag.
"So, that's the story as I've heard it whispered locally," Copperpot shrugged. "The 'mistress' bit is just because it sounded more drow to me. I'll say this much, I like it better than our original story. Sometimes they pay *me* for these romps, either to keep Ciels placated or just because it's like nothing else they've ever seen... or felt!"
"At least you can shrink down and head to the store," Jillian said. "I can't tell you how hard it is to get anything done when people keep trying to stick their fingers in you."
Copperpot snorted and gave a knowing look to Jillian, who tilted her head back and away with an exasperated noise. Celia was sure she'd be rolling her eyes if she had them.
"Okay, poor word choice," Jillian said. "But really, it's easier for Celia to shop than it is for me."
"Oh, like you ever did any of the legwork anyways," Rena scoffed. "You've just got an excuse not to carry anything heavy that makes sense, now."
Celia couldn't help laughing along with Copperpot as Jillian sputtered, looking like she wanted to storm out angrily but unable to due to how much she'd eaten, expanding her to the point she was nearly stuck in her little corner of the room.
A drider queen, a giant half-orc, an expandable halfling and a gelatinous sorceress. They had been referred to as adventurerers before, but as Celia took another sip of tea, she wondered if her adventuring had only just begun.