This is just a little something I wrote last night when I couldn't sleep. I revisited it today and did some editing.

Cassie belongs to me ( http://www.furaffinity.net/view/16054242/ )
Archeage and all those shenanigans belong to Trion and... whoever else owns it xD

Story contains: Fat necromancer, attempted rape, transformation and /implied/ vore

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"Mmmph..."

Cassie woke up to the gentle rocking of the ocean against the hull of her ship and the cool sensation of steel against her neck. Her hammock bunk was swaying a little more than usual and she could feel an extra weight against her chest and waist - someone was crawling atop her.

"Mmm yes..."

She felt cold, clammy, Harani hands pushing their way beneath the cloth wrapped around her chest, probing the sensitive, lightly furred flesh around her nipples. A foul, rum laden breath washed across her, the feline-like Firran's expression turning even more sour as her sensitive nose was assaulted by the assortment of disgusting scents. As she cracked open an eye, Cassie saw the man who had crawled atop her swollen, gravid form. A sweaty, unshaven Harani human, his long black hair tied back in a messy ponytail, dirty fingernails pulling apart her clothing whilst his other hand held a dagger to her throat. Taking a moment to size up the person atop her, the most expensive looking thing about him was the dagger he held in his hand, likely a family heirloom or a possession stolen from another passenger. She had immediately recognised the Harani as a member of the ferry's crew, the same man who had ogled her throughout the day.

"You try to scream and I swear I'll cut your pretty throat," The man warned, glancing up from Cassie's body to meet her eyes before resuming his fondling of her bloated form. His hand moved down from her breasts to push firmly into her gut, feeling the way that it gave and hearing the way that it sloshed.

The young Firran sighed. She couldn't blame him for mistaking her as powerless. After all, the songs from the Harani cities rarely featured women doing anything more brave or exotic then differing sexual positions. It was probably the first time this sailor had ever seen a Firran, let alone a witch. But that didn't excuse rape - nothing did.

"I'd tell you that I'll put your soul to good use," Cassie said as she felt the aether begin to course through her, flowing through her veins like blood, "But the souls of rapists are as dull and worthless in death as they were in life." The Harani sailor hadn't gotten over the surprise of her talking to even begin to brace for the powerful surge of energy that would launch him off of her body and across the room. He collided with the wall of the cabin and fell to the floor in a crumpled heap. Cassie took the time this afforded her to slowly pull herself up and out of the hammock, something that was getting harder these days than it had when she began her journey into Necromancy all those months ago. The extra 100lb of fat and lords know what else settled heavily around her waist, spilling into her lap and threatening to overbalance her as she slid to the ground.

Whilst this happened the Harani sailor had managed to slowly pull himself up to his feet, every part of his body now suddenly aching. He blinked with confusion - he'd been knocked over by a horse before but it hadn't hurt like this. It felt as though he had spent the last five years running a marathon, every muscle and bone in his body creaking and groaning with pain. Cassephone was treated with a different perspective though. She saw the way the man's body began to warp and twist, the way his arms crunched and buckled. His torso twisted as his entire form began to reshape itself to the gruesome sounds of flesh and bone being painfully rearranged. A scream formed on the Harani's lips but quickly died when his voice box and throat adjusted themselves to suit his new body, a hissing tongue snaking out of his now reptilian mouth. In a matter of moments for Cassie, but what must have seemed like years to the man, a particularly fat desert lizard lay, wiggling its legs confused on the floor of her room. The bloated witch waddled her way towards it before slowly bending down and lifting the creature up by its tail. It was over a foot long and in many cultures considered one of the finer meats to dine on - she would deliver it to the chef. Nobody would miss the Harani sailor and she would /kill/ to feast upon desert lizard flesh once more.