Gender-swapped Order of the Stick

Rachel Greenhilt glared around at the group, tapping her sword meaningfully against one long, slim chain-mail-clad leg.

'Alright, we've been stuck like this for over twelve hours now. Has anyone managed to find any kind of sensible explanation for this, or better yet, any kind of solution?'

'I -' The dwarf opened her mouth to say something, then shut it again, still horrified at the high-pitched, Northern-accented squeak that emerged instead of her (his?) usual deep rumble. 'Ah, Thor's int'mate undergarments! I cannae even talk like maesel' nae more! Lasses, we mus' find a way to lift this curse, an' quickly.'

'Eh, it could be worse,' the halfling grinned, flicking her long red hair out of her eyes. 'Five sleazy guys have already offered to buy me drinks or dinner, and it isn't even eight o'clock yet'. She held up five separate coin purses and jangled them obnoxiously. 'Plus, nobody seems to mind where you put your hands when you look like this. I'm thinking of taking a level in pickpocket next time we level up: say hello to Bella Bitterleaf, halfling rogue!'

Rachel patted Durquine (who'd now started weeping into her tankard of ale) gently on the shoulder, and glared Bella into submission. 'Does anyone else have any - oh, for goodness' sake, that about does it! Where in all the hells have those two got to? V, have you seen Elaine and Harry?'.

V set down the glass of elven wine, looking pale and haggard. 'I am afraid that the bard and Mr. Starshine have not been seen since early this morning, shortly after we first became aware that the curse had taken effect. They began discoursing most earnestly about 'needing to run some important experiments', and subsequently disappeared back into their bedroom. Most odd, as I was not aware that either of them possessed significant expertise regarding this particular type of magical misfortune.'

Rachel clutched her forehead. 'Any theories? Anyone? Could it be Xykon's work? A magical artifact we've somehow triggered?' An idea struck her, lighting up the dark, narrow features. 'Hey, maybe it's some trick of the Linear Guild! This sort of petty stupidity seems about Nale's speed.'

Durquine sighed. 'I'm afeared nae, lass. I saw Nale - um, Narelle - in the town square this aefertnoon. She were screamin' about how she'd lost her 'most important possession' and was gaun tae make us Order o' the Stick bastards - '

'- bitches - ' Bella corrected with a smirk.

' - pay. The half-orc was wi' her, wearin' a pink party dress and some kindae dancin' slippers. The most disturbin' thing about it was,' the dwarf sighed heavily, and fingered her own newly-smooth features, 'that for some reason the spell hadn'a taken off the goatee.'

V set down the glass with a small, decisive 'thud'. 'This situation is intolerable! My long day's researches have revealed nothing. Nothing! I must discover a way to address this problem before conditions deteriorate to the point of even further humiliation and discomfort!'.

'Look, I don't know what you're complaining about, V' Rachel snapped, 'it's not as though the situation's really caused you any serious problems.'

The elf stared incredulously at her. 'Lady Greenhilt, I presume that you jest. While I appreciate that this predicament has caused all of you no small social embarrassment and physical difficulty, combined with the confusion and stress inherent in being the subject of an unidentified curse, surely you must appreciate that for myself, the situation has been most dire of all.'

Three sets of wide eyes were staring at the elf.

'Lad - or lass, I'm still nae sure - ' Durquine began -

'- WHAT, in the seven fiery hells - ' continued Bella -

'- do you think you're talking about!?!' concluded Rachel.

'Isn't it obvious, you oblivious buffoons?' V leapt out of the chair, upright posture screaming haughty offence. 'I am now stuck with over a dozen sets of robes, all of which button up the wrong side!'.

As the elf flounced up the stairs in a huff, Rachel slumped forward with a muffled sob, burying her face in her hands.

'Sae. Bella, lass. Aboot this gettin'-drinks-bought-for-ye business…'

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License