John woke up again, but this time was different. He found himself enveloped in pitch darkness as a debuff blinked briefly. Attempting to discern what ailment he was suffering from, the notification vanished before he could fully comprehend it. His hands fumbled for a light switch, but he quickly realized the room's darkness stemmed from the layers of blankets covering his transformed body.

Sitting up cautiously, John stretched, now more mindful of his horns as they grazed the headboard, only pricking himself once. With one arm behind his head and the other pulling on his elbow, he extended his limbs after a refreshing sleep, feeling unfamiliar muscles flex and lengthen. Glancing down, he discovered his unclothed state once again, his azure skin shimmering faintly in the dim light filtering through the blankets. A melodic sigh escaped his lips.

"Damn, if this keeps happening, I'm gonna have quite the reputation around town. Of course, I suppose it couldn't be worse than whatever else people say about me," he muttered, his new voice tinkling like wind chimes as he chuckled softly.

Surveying the unfamiliar surroundings, John noticed his clothes neatly draped over a chair. The room boasted a single bed, a genuine wardrobe with intricate carvings, and a plush rug beneath his hooves. This wasn't just the drunk room; it was a normal, well-furnished chamber. Checking his map, he found himself on the opposite side of the hallway from his regular sleeping quarters. The bed felt notably more comfortable, its sheets silky against his sensitive skin. Confusion swirled in his mind, his tail twitching with uncertainty.

Rising to retrieve his clothes, John realized he was pain-free. Curiously, he prodded at his ribs where he had been struck twice before, expecting to wince.

Nothing.

The skin felt smooth and unblemished, with no signs of injury. As he approached the chair to dress, his hooves clicking softly on the wooden floor, he began to whistle absentmindedly, the tune oddly familiar yet strange in his new voice.

As he went to put on his shirt, he looked up and saw a beautiful woman staring back at him from across the room. Her sapphire skin curved alluringly, and her pose as she mirrored John's movements sent a shiver down his spine. He gazed into her eyes, captivated by the lithe, feminine form before him. Her muscles rippled with each movement, as she in turn checked him out, and she stood completely bare. A playful tail swished back and forth, complementing her long, flowing white hair that cascaded down her back like a moonlit waterfall.

Suddenly, realization dawned. John was staring at his own reflection in a full-length mirror. He had rarely glimpsed himself since arriving in this world, often avoiding mirrors out of apprehension. Today, however, he was confronted with an unobstructed view of his new form, the morning light from a nearby window illuminating every detail.

He studied the woman in the mirror, noticing how the sunbeams danced across her skin, accentuating the contours of her muscles. Her blue skin was flawless, devoid of any marks where she had previously suffered broken ribs. Toned abs appeared almost sculpted rather than naturally formed. John's gaze briefly flitted to her bosom before he caught himself ‘Man, it feels weird checking her out like that.’.

Traveling upwards, John's eyes took in her shoulders and head. Her hair framed her face, softening any hard edges. Her horns were smooth but segmented, appearing a dark gray color. A flicker of movement from behind her drew his attention to her tail, which swished back and forth almost constantly. He turned to the side and let out a low catcalling whistle, then immediately admonished himself. "John, I get you have a nice ass, but it's creepy to check her... I mean me out." John had seen himself many times, but never like this. And the fact he had never seen himself like this made him feel all the more weirded out.

"Man, I hate to admit it," John said, turning to inspect his other side. "But if I wasn't me, and I saw a girl that looked like her back when I was younger, I probably would have tried to flirt with her. Probably would have failed spectacularly too. I am way out of my league."

John gazed at his reflection, noticing the fullness of his lips, the sharpness of his cheekbones, the intricate patterns in his horns, and the fierce glow in his eyes. It was as unsettling as it was beautiful. He let his blouse fall from his hands, taken aback by his own appearance.

He ran his hands down his arms, neck, and face while maintaining eye contact with the woman in the mirror. 'This...is... Me?' he thought, exploring different areas of his body.

Gently touching his sides with his nails, John felt his muscles quiver very unpleasantly. "Wait, that...tickled? Oh, I do not like that feeling. Mm-mmm. Not one bit." He touched his abs, finding that while poking them was fine, soft touches also made his muscles ripple uncomfortably. His hand flinched, nearly punching the mirror. "Nope. I'll have to make note of that. Do not let other people tickle me." He continued exploring other parts of his body.

He puffed out his cheeks some as he slapped his belly. He poked his face to let the air raspberry out of his mouth.

Attempting to bend his ears to look less like a tiefling and more human proved to be a big mistake. It felt like he'd stuck a fork in an outlet, with a jolt traveling from his ears to his arms and back. His veins visibly popped out as an unpleasant feeling washed through him. For a good twenty minutes after, he felt needle-like pinpricks down the right side of his neck and in his ears.

"I guess there's a nerve in there that I tweaked. Good to know," he mused, once his jaw stopped involuntary clenching. He started rubbing his ears and a smile forced its way onto his lips. He started absently whistling a tune. "On the plus side, rubbing the ears feels really good and relaxing."

Of course as John explored his body, he noticed things entirely different from the nerve-tweaking of his ears. He ran his fingers along the top of his tail, finding it didn't bother him too much.

He knew from experience it was unpleasant to have it grabbed or yanked, but it wasn't unbearable. Then a thought occurred to him. 'Wait, I think I remembered reading somewhere that folks are generally ticklish when they're not used to being touched. I never had a tail before. I’m not ticklish on my tail, am I?' So he slowly dragged his nails across it. And...

Oh. My. GOD!

The sensation was unlike anything he had ever felt. A warm tingling feeling shot up and down his tail and spine, making his whole body shiver. Goosebumps erupted along his skin, and he could feel the flush of heat in his cheeks. His knees felt weak as his legs started shaking. He felt his back arch uncontrollably. It was as if a surge of electricity was pulsing through him, but it was in no way unpleasant.

It felt like he had an itch that he couldn't reach on his back and someone was able to scratch it for him. Every inch his hand moved, the electric feeling pulsed back and forth zipping up and down his whole body quicker and quicker. He felt his breath speed up and become shallow. His heart began to race, each beat resonating through his chest. A gentle tingling sensation spread through his body, starting from the point of contact and radiating outward, making him acutely aware of his own touch.

As his breath became more rapid and shallow, a sense of closeness and intimacy enveloped him. He glanced in the mirror and saw the woman in front of him bite her lip, and the look of need she gave him was almost primal. It was as if -

He realized what was going on nearly immediately.

John quickly let go of his tail, before anything else happened. As he stood there, he saw sweat starting to form on his body. He still tingled with the aftermath of the intense sensation that had coursed through him. And as nothing pushed him over the edge, a sudden wave of frustration washed over him just as strong as the pleasure had been. The heat of desire still coursed through his veins, and yet, he couldn't help but feel a sense of frustration and even self-loathing at his own stupidity for not realizing what he was doing to himself sooner.

As he stood there, catching his breath and trying to regain composure, John began to whistle softly, attempting to distract himself from the lingering sensations. His eyes met those of his reflection once more, and he quickly looked away, the memory of what had just transpired still fresh in his mind. The room suddenly felt too warm, too confined, and he found himself longing for a distraction from the confusing mix of emotions swirling within him.

The woman looked at him and breathed heavily, her chest heaving as he quickly looked away.

His hands clenched into tight fists, his eyes squeezed shut, and his breath came in shallow, ragged gasps. Thoughts of being touched, of being embraced, of being pushed over that edge spread through his mind like wildfire. He closed his eyes and forced himself to take deep measured breaths. He hoped to not succumb to the overwhelming sensations that now coursed through his veins.

And then, as if by some cruel twist of fate, John's attention was suddenly drawn towards a few things in the room that had previously gone unnoticed. The ticking of the clock on the wall, normally a soothing and comforting sound, now seemed to be mocking him with its relentless and incessant staccato rhythm.

Each tick that passed hammered on in his ears, reminding him of the 30 seconds of pure bliss when he touched his tail. He glanced at it and scowled, hoping his stern look would silence it.

As soon as he looked away, he noticed the flickering of the candle on the dresser seemed to be taunting him with its mesmerizing and hypnotic dance of light and shadow.

Even the gentle rustling of the wind outside the window seemed to be whispering to him. It appeared to come in low moans, reminding him of the pleasures and passions that he was trying to suppress. A breeze came through the open window and the cool air gently played against his skin, causing the goosebumps to come back with a vengeance. And with it, phantom stimulation and memories. He stormed over to the window and slammed it closed.

John almost angrily stomped over to the woman in the mirror and picked up his blouse. "Look, I'm sorry. You seem like a really nice woman." The woman in the mirror started talking along with him. "But I'm a married guy. And while I appreciate the idea of spending all afternoon with you, I kinda have to get back to getting stronger to see my wife again." He put on the blouse and it teased his bosom. This made him angrily re-adjust his shirt. "And I'm sorry. But I've really gotta do everything I can to get back to her. Because if I spend the afternoon with you, then I feel like part of me is giving up. And sure, it might be stupid to think that. But I've got a family that loves me and is waiting for me."

John threw on his pants but they once again got stuck on his tail. So he pulled them into his inventory and then equipped them from there. They fit on him perfectly. He looked again into the woman's eyes. She looked sorry to see him go. "I'm sorry, but it just wouldn't work out."

Taking a quick look at himself, he noticed another surprising thing. He knew that his clothes had several spots where they had been torn, ripped, and suffered from various signs of battle. But they were almost entirely repaired. He put his finger where the hole in his side was yesterday, but only saw stitching. It was as if a seamstress or tailor had fixed it while he slept. The rest of his clothes had likewise been repaired.

He left the view of the mirror and mumbled to himself another mental note. "Never let anyone else do that unless I was really desperate or really, REALLY drunk."

He made his way down the stairs and headed towards the main room of the tavern. As he walked, he looked at his quest log.

Emergency Quest: Please, Someone help Description: The old reliable Damsel in Distress quest. Your classic quest befitting a young adventurer. An urgent plea for aid echoes through the alley. The woman’s only child is about to be devoured by the beast. Time to play the hero! Progress: 1 / 1 Reward: 19 Clips

A few moments after, the bottom of the quest flickered and new text appeared.

Emergency Quest: Please, Someone help Description: The old reliable Damsel in Distress quest. Your classic quest befitting a young adventurer. An urgent plea for aid echoes through the alley. The woman’s only child is about to be devoured by the beast. Time to play the hero! Progress: 1 / 1 Reward: 19 Clips Bonus Objective: Keep the child alive Progress: 1 / 1 Bonus Reward:

* 4 Shards

* +5% reputation with locals of Zephyr's Reach

* The heartfelt thanks of a grateful mother

* Certain locals will find ways to show their gratitude

Note: Monsters? In Alleyways? A true classic! Do a good job and maybe we’ll upgrade you to rats in a basement for Old Lady Swanson. Go save that kid and maybe teach the monster to find a new snack.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

John stopped walking, wary of tripping down the stairs, and checked his inventory. Sure enough, he saw his money had been updated and a few new items had appeared. His coin counter at the bottom said 4s 36c, and he now had something that looked like a head, a puddle, a collection of nails and a heart?

He furrowed his brow, his tail swishing behind him in confusion. "What in the world...?" he muttered, examining the strange new icons. The head icon piqued his curiosity first. Was it some kind of trophy or magical artifact? The puddle seemed out of place – perhaps a potion or some kind of alchemical ingredient? The collection of nails could be useful for crafting or repairs, but their presence in his inventory was unexpected. And the heart... well, that could mean any number of things in a magical world like this.

John whistled softly, a habit he was beginning to notice more frequently. "I don't remember picking any of this up," he said to himself, his voice still strange to his ears. "Maybe…I…acquired these during that blackout period? Or are they rewards from some quest I don't remember completing?"

He continued down the stairs, more carefully now, his hooves making a soft clicking sound against the wood. The weight of his horns and the sway of his tail still felt foreign, but he grew more familiar with each passing day.

He inspected the items hoping they would give some direction for his questions or even answers.

Information Name: Golthorr head Rarity: Uncommon Description: The head of a Golthorr, parts of this item can be used in several professions Name: Golthorr Blood Rarity: Uncommon Description: Golthorr blood is used by both blacksmiths and alchemists Name: Golthorr Nails Rarity: Uncommon Description: Golthorr Nails are used by blacksmiths and leather-workers Name: Golthorr Heart Rarity: Uncommon Description: The heart of the Golthorr is used by alchemists

'Crafting ingredients. Interesting. Makes me wonder what different professions there are.' He thought as he spent a few more moments looking at the log. 'There should be some experience points somewhere.'

Updates Proficiency in Gory Armaments gained: New proficiency: 7%. Continue to increase your proficiency to advance your Tier. Proficiency in Blood Control gained: New proficiency: 13%. Continue to increase your proficiency to advance your Tier. Experience gained for defeating an enemy, loot has been added to your inventory. You have leveled up. You have leveled up. Please allocate Attribute points.

He noticed the number next to Free points was now blinking an 8, and decided that maybe it would be a good idea to actually invest some of those stats on himself. If anything, that previous fight had shaken him up and he didn't want any repeat performances in the "John almost dies every fight" show.

Taking a quick look over his health, he saw he was sitting at a comfortable 110 HP, his mana was at 330 out of 330 and his stamina was a 20 out of 20. Putting 4 of the points in Intelligence, 2 points in Endurance, one point in Dexterity and even one point in Beauty rounded out his stats.

He was going to go over his character sheet but the rumbling that happened in his belly made him think twice. He went to ignore it, but a second louder growl made him make his way downstairs.

Idle chatter from a number of patrons met him halfway down the stairs, and John wondered how busy this place must have been. 'Man, I hope my seat is still open,' he thought as he hummed “Why Don't You Get A Job?” to himself. He was feeling great and in a cheery mood. He even turned to look at the bar when he entered the main room and saw the seat at the end was still open.

Which is why he didn't see the oncoming woman who nearly tackled him to give him a hug.

He barely caught a glimpse of the woman’s face before his face was buried in her chest. John froze for a moment, and his hands remained at his side. When the hug didn’t relent, his arms came up to embrace the woman. The scent of her perfume filled his nose and it was quite pleasant. After a moment he patted her back and tried to speak.

"eh uh-ugh-uh-ahet mghh ugh,..." was all the taller woman heard from the girl she was hugging. She let go and John gasped. "...but why are you hugging me?"

"Sorry?'' The taller lady looked genuinely happy to see John, as if he was a long lost childhood friend. It was then that he remembered her. This was the girl that threw him in the drunk room the other day. SHe must have had a few days off because this was only the second time John had seen her. And this greeting was a fairly great departure from the last time they spoke. Tears started to well up in the woman's eyes and she looked at him as if he were a puppy on Christmas morning.

Now that John was doing slightly better than barely conscious, he was able to get a good look at the woman. She was a human, maybe in her early twenties. She had the athletic look of a woman who worked every day of her life but was paid well for what she did. Her blouse was a nice white color and the sleeves came down to her elbows and the front was a fairly low cut. Considering how well endowed she was, he assumed it was something the patrons probably loved. The vest she wore on top of it was a very lovely green color that complimented her green eyes. Her long brown hair wasn't as long as John's but it still came down in a braid nearly to her navel.

"Sorry," John said. "What I said was 'I appreciate the hug, but why are you hugging me?'"

"OH!" she exclaimed as she half laughed in genuine glee. "Elena, my nephew is alive because of you." Her tears started flowing. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!" She started crying again and pulled John into another hug. John quickly turned his head to the side so he could breathe this time.

Not knowing what to do, he patted her back and then rubbed it. Even his tail got into the hug, wrapping around her leg and holding her closer to him. John half whispered into her chest, "It's no problem. I just couldn't stand by and do nothing." She let go, and put her hands on his arms. His tail was still wrapped around behind her back as if it wasn't done with the hug. John looked at her and wiped away a tear of his own.

"Are they ok?" he asked, hoping that he hadn't arrived too late.

"Only thanks to you," she confirmed and started wiping away her own tears. "If there's anything I can do for you, please tell me. My sister also wanted to thank you, but I told her you were resting, and that you're getting better. I hope you don't mind..." she started to continue but John put his own hand on her shoulder.

"Tell her, it was no problem. I'm just glad everyone is alive and hopefully safe." He smiled and was genuinely happy to hear it.

"Regardless of how insignificant you think it is, we appreciate it, and she wants you to come over for a family dinner whenever you're able to. She also wants you to know that you're always welcome in her home and..." she kind of looked around to make sure nobody was listening, and still decided to lean in. "Your secret is safe with her. With US!" She hurried to add the last part and blurted it out a bit louder than was strictly speaking necessary. She also waved her fingers in what John assumed was a universal symbol of magic shenanigans in case he missed the point of her last statement.

John was oblivious to what she was talking about, but she seemed like it was a good thing so John was happy for her.

Gareth came over to them and put his hands on the girl's shoulders. "Clara, why don't you give Elena some breathing room. Also, Gorrum wants another ale."

Clara gave John another hug and then whispered another round of thanks into his ear before rushing off and getting a large mug of ale for an Orc at a large table. Gareth ushered John over to the same table that they had breakfast together the other day. He told John to sit down and that food would be coming. John once again offered to pay and Gareth once again refused any money. John asked him how much the food would cost if he wasn't eating here, and Gareth told John that she shouldn't be eating anywhere else anyway.

From the kitchen John heard Agatha yell out. "Good morning Elena! Breakfast?" She had gone to the bar to get some empty glasses and saw John sitting down next to her husband.

John looked over and smiled. "G'morning Agatha. Yes please!" Agatha smiled back and headed back to the kitchen. John heard Agatha humming to herself, but wasn't sure if this was something that she normally did, or picked it up because of how frequently he found himself doing it. John heard her starting to hum "Hey there Delilah".

John smiled as he turned back to Gareth. The two of them had basically thwarted John’s attempts to pay for anything thus far. They had even gone so far as to tell the girls working that John wasn’t supposed to pay, and any money that he tried to give the girls was to be returned. Even the regulars seemed to get in on the fun of refusing to tell John what the prices were.

But John wasn’t about to let a little thing like stubborn people get in his way. So he tried a new tactic. “Gareth. Look, I appreciate the free room and board. But at some point I’m going to be a drain on you and your family. Can I at least do some odds and ends around here to help out?”

Gareth looked at John like he had two heads. “Elena, had I gone to the order for healing, I would have had to have paid for what you did for me. The healing you gave me the other day would have cost me your room and food for months. And then last night you go and save the lives of a few locals.”

John crossed his arms, his completely valid argument getting away from him. “C’mon Gareth, it was just-”

Gareth didn’t even slow down. “And probably dozens of more locals if the monster hadn’t been stopped. Elena, the town is supposed to be safe from monsters. And yes there are adventurers in town, but who knows how many people would have died before they arrived. So no. There is not a chance under the spire you will pay for your food.”

John looked exasperated. “Gareth, at least tell me so I don’t get ripped off. How much is a meal like this? I’ve got these copper looking coins and these silvery ones. I think they’re called shards?” John took out a few of each coin to show Gareth but he closed her hand around it.

“Far less than any of those coins.” he said.

Clara came by with a plate of food. “Excuse me Elena” and set it in front of John. She smiled and seemed to be a bit over enthusiastic to make sure his needs were met. John tried to hand her a coin and not only did she refuse, she gave John a stern look and shook a finger at him. “No! Stop!”

John looked at her pleadingly. Gareth smiled and leaned back in the booth. “Stop looking so smug!” John rolled his eyes. “You know I could always just leave it here. If Clara doesn’t want it, I’m certain somebody will take it.”

Gareth shrugged. “Oh we’ll take it if you leave it here. Of course you’ll find it in your room tonight. But we’ll take it!” He sipped from his drink called Ebonleaf that John had found out was the equivalent of coffee.

“Gareth, you are an infuriating man!” John said grumpily, but with a hint of a smile.

Gareth just sipped form his cup. “You’re not the first girl in my life to tell me that.” He got up and headed towards the bar to pour a few drinks.

Today's meal from Agatha was fine, but not as good as the first meal John had of hers. The eggs were excellent and well seasoned. But the accompaniment tasted like the worst parts of beets and bitter brussel sprouts. Gareth came back and sat down. John looked up and then at the kitchen door. Agatha was in there and wasn't looking their way. "Hey, what are these?" he pointed to the vegetables.

"That's starleaf," Gareth answered. John gazed at the kitchen again, then at the food, his face contorting into a sour expression.

"Don't like it?" Gareth inquired, his curiosity piqued.

Instead of responding verbally, John continued to frown and slightly shook his head. He pushed the offending morsel around the plate, separating it from the more appetizing fare. Gareth chuckled and snatched one, popping it into his mouth.

John's tail twitched with mild annoyance as he explained, "Where I'm from, this tastes like two separate vegetables: Brussels sprouts and beets. If I had a dog, I probably would have snuck it to them." Gareth smiled again, though a hint of sadness touched his eyes.

As Gareth reached for another piece from John's plate, a hand materialized out of nowhere and swatted his. Agatha had appeared out of nothing as if she was a magician, her expression far from pleased. "This poor girl is here, probably starving after being asleep for the past 12 hours, and you're here stealing food from her plate?" She fixed Gareth with a stern glare, her eyes widening in the universal 'You're in big trouble, mister' look. Turning to John, she softened her tone. "I'm sorry, Elena. My idiot husband doesn't have manners sometimes."

John began to interject, but Gareth was quicker. "Honey, I'm sorry. Elena was just telling me how she loved the eggs and wanted some more, and I thought I saw a spoiled spot on that one piece." Agatha's gaze instantly locked onto the plate, and John mouthed a silent "Thank you" to Gareth, who subtly nodded in return.

Agatha's expression morphed into one of horror, as if the mere concept of spoiled food was an affront to all that was good and pure.

Swiftly changing the subject, Gareth inquired, "Love, I know you said your friends were coming today. Did they say they'd be able to help Elena?"

Agatha's sour demeanor instantly brightened as she glanced at John. "Oh yeah! The ones I was telling you about the other day. They'll be here today."

"The elf and sylph?" John asked, his curiosity piqued despite himself.

"Yes," Agatha confirmed. "They're going to be here sometime this afternoon. I told them you'd be up and running by then. So perhaps don't go picking fights with random wandering monsters?" She smiled, her words a good-natured jab.

John rolled his eyes and popped another piece of egg into his mouth, careful not to use male pronouns as he retorted, "Geez, mom! Way to ruin my fun! But seriously, I don't think you have to worry. I'm pretty certain that my days of fighting for my life are over. Unless, of course, you've got some killer meats hiding in the pantry I should know about."

As the words left his mouth, John found himself whistling a playful tune, his tail swishing in amusement at his own joke. He caught himself mid-whistle, realizing it was becoming an unconscious habit.

Gareth chuckled at the quip, while Agatha shot John a mock-stern look, her lips twitching as she fought back a smile. "Don't give me ideas, young lady. I might just have to dig out Great-Aunt Mildred's recipe for her infamous 'Surprise Stew'. Now that was a dish that could put up a real fight!"