Veliky often describes herself as an 'experienced woman.' Oftentimes, this leads people to ask just what it is she's experienced in. And when those questions arise, the most apt answer she can think of is a Common saying that she's heard before: "everything under the sun." Despite being the CEO of the world's largest and first (and only) corporation, Veliky unique skillset has led her to most jobs imaginable, even if that mostly entails her hiring other people to do it for her.

Today it's cattle. Catching them and bringing them back. It's truly as simple as that. And the lows she'd stoop to are no more surprising to anyone but herself.

She lets out a sigh, halfway through the hard work of bringing all the escaped cows back into their pens. The day is uncharacteristically hot, making it an even more egregious endeavour. Of course, she isn't actually the one performing any labour herself; she's privy to a very special ability called 'subcontracting.' And so, having assigned most of her Blixtbot™ militia (as well as a few living hirelings) to the task, she sits back and revels in utter boredom.

But Veliky isn't a lazy soul. When she's doing nothing, she's doing something; whether that's paperwork, next month's taxes, next year's taxes or calculating the most effective pay check cuts, she's always busying herself. But today, she finds herself woefully free of things to do, and so she's assigned herself to one of the most menial tasks of all: equipment checks. She looks through all the things that she normally brings into the field, making sure they all function as they should (giving particularly dangerous ones to bots, or using them on bots).

She checks the coat^[1] that Cirice gave her and, indeed, it's still able to make her grow and shrink in size, defying all laws of reality to do so. She checks the nametag^[2] that Cirice gave her and, indeed, it still tells her the name of whomever she looks at (including the Blixtbots™, whose names she sees hovering as 'Rook-15' and 'Pawn-05' and other such impersonal designations). She even checks the little bell^[3] that Cirice gave her and, indeed, it still rings.

...Veliky's beginning to realize that Cirice has given her many things. It's a strange feeling. New. A mix of emotions: on the one hand, she feels as if she hasn't earned it, and this bitterness twinges whenever she sees it. On the other hand... feelings she doesn't quite like to think about.

...

There's a new one, too. Likely one of the stranger gifts that Cirice has given her, though not as strange as the doll in Veliky's own image. She pulls it out from her pack and holds it before her like a tapestry, examining its dark-green fabric and deep-blue designs. The half-cape^[4] is a well-made item to be certain; though the cape itself was store-bought, Veliky can feel the love that was put -- by Cirice -- into its embroidery, and the little lily-pad clasp... it makes it difficult for her to stare too long.

'Focus. It's just an inventory check.' Despite this being a menial and mostly arbitrary task, Veliky sees it with the same professionalism as all else. And that means that, regardless of how the little cloak makes emotions flutter around in her head, she has to regard the peculiar property that Cirice claimed it would have. That is, Cirice claimed that this cape (which she referred to as a 'pondcho') would have the ability to transform her into, of all things... a frog. Why she would never need such an ability is beyond her. But, nevertheless, it's a resource that she can use whensoever a time comes that a situation requires a more ranine touch. And so it must be tested.

...And so it must be tested.

...

'How's this thing supposed to work, anyways?' Veliky has a general aversion toward magical items. They are certainly useful -- essential, even -- but she finds their activation methods even more lunar than her technology tends to be. 'Do I just... put it on? And what, think about being a frog?' She sighs internally, and then externally, supposing that that's exactly what she should try first.

And so, wrapping the cape around herself and affixing the little clasp through the fabric, she pulls the hood over her head and... thinks about what it'd be like to be a frog. She thinks about jumping high, eating flies with an overlong tongue, and making those weird little sounds that frogs make. And...

...

Oh! She can feel something. In fact, that 'something' may be one of the stranger things she's ever felt. It's like a sliminess, but like she's touching something slimy; but rather, like sliminess were suddenly something so intrinsic to her being that she starts to forget what it's like to *not* be slimy. Aside from that, it reminds her of that time she ate magic mushrooms with Cheche, noticing the world around her start to change before she realizes any apparent changes to herself. Everything, from the trees to the Blixtbots™, seem to grow taller until she's utterly dwarfed by them. She expects it to stop happening several times, but... it seems like she's becoming even smaller than that time with Cheche. And it's somewhat unnerving.

But, just as she begins to panic, it stops. Even the blades of grass are monumental to her, now. She can feel it; her being has changed in ways that would hurt to think about too much. And so, instead of thinking, she merely sees, looking down at her arms that have become feet - webbed feet.

Indeed, it was a success. The cape did exactly as Cirice said it would. Veliky... isn't surprised, quite; she expected it to happen, but she also didn't expect it. It's a strange feeling. Regardless, she now only has to fetch her list and write it off as 'fully functional.'

...

'Alright how do I stop being a frog?'

---

1. Red Rogue's Coat
2. Name on the List
3. Sleigh Bell
4. Pondcho

Bringing Minions
Bishop-12 (Warlord)
Knight-05 (Warlord)
Rook-15 (Warlord)

Bringing Pets
Lag Switch-07 (Ashlands Jackal)
Silent Night-02 (Snow Owl)

What in the world is Morrigan doing here?

No, seriously.

What in the hell are they doing?

Anyone who spent more than five minutes with the charlatan would be able to tell you that there was one crucial detail about their work ethic - namely, that they lacked one. Morrigan was allergic to the word responsibility like it was the plague, and they detested a hard day’s work of labor more than anything. What if they chipped a nail doing menial tasks? What if they ruined the clothes that they’d spent a lot of good money on? Zeinavian silk wasn’t cheap, and selling snake oil was a rather lucrative business indeed. They liked what they did, and they were good at it, so why mess with a good thing?

Morrigan had been in the business of scamming and scheming since they were fifteen, and they didn’t plan on stopping anytime soon.

And yet…

They’d been paying a visit to Moonglade - Morrigan wasn’t quite sure why, but for some reason they always found themselves visiting this sleepy, forest-filled country. Moonglade was a catalyst for change in their life, more often than not. It was where they’d met Kvasir Sigurros, after all, and that encounter had irrevocably changed Morrigan in ways they couldn’t place. So much so, that for once in their life, when they heard that there was some sort of mogul or businesswoman - honestly, they weren’t really paying much attention to the details - was looking for a couple of hired hands to round up some cattle, Morrigan made the absolutely moronic decision of skipping their afternoon of leisure in favor of…

A day of honest work.

Shudder.

The thought of actually living like a farmer for a day made Morrigan feel kind of… weird and gross inside, like there were insects crawling under their skin. But by the time they realized that they’d incidentally subjected themselves to the ninth circle of hell, it was too late to back out now. They had to either shit or get off the pot.

And that was how they found themselves spending grueling hours in the sweltering sun, herding a bunch of sweaty animals. This sucked! Animals usually didn’t even like Morrigan all that much, which meant that they spent most of their time just trying to wrangle the stupid beasts, who only got more agitated the closer Morrigan got to them. By the time they’d managed to round up a couple of the damned beasts, they’d gotten mud and Ginma knows what else all over their pristine new shirt, and they were in desperate need of a bath.

This Veliky chick had better be grateful that I decided to help her out, Morrigan thought, as if they’d contributed anything of value at all the entire day.

Nevertheless, they decided they’d worked enough that it probably wouldn’t hurt if they snuck off to the Wagon of Wonders and made themselves a quick drink at the wet bar. To improve morale, of course!

With that in mind, Morrigan hastily tied the nervous cow they’d managed to wrangle to a fence. Looked around to see if anyone was watching them. Once they were certain that no one was really paying them much attention, Morrigan began tiptoeing their way to the wagon-

When they nearly stepped on something small and squishy in the grass.

At first, Morrigan thought it was a mushroom. There were an abundance of those strange plants around here, but no… upon closer inspection, this was something different. It was moving. Curious, Morrigan knelt down to get a closer look at the little thing. Was that a frog? They’d never seen one that little, or even that round.

Morrigan reached out a finger and poked it.

Indignant hatred burned behind the frog’s eyes, with the fury of a thousand suns fueling it. Perhaps if the amphibian could speak, it might have said something like ‘unhand me, you moron’ or ‘what the fuck are you doing’ or any other kind of lengthy diatribe. Instead, all that came out was a tiny, indignant, SQUEAK!

But it didn’t run away from Morrigan, which was… a first. They rarely did well with animals, and the feeling was mutual - but something about this little creature had utterly captivated them. With wide eyes, Morrigan knelt down and scooped up the little thing in their hands.

“Well, aren’t you a darling little creature? How would you like to come back with me to the wagon?”

Because it was a frog, and could not answer, there was nothing it could do but sit in Morrigan’s palms as the fellblood began skipping all the way to their parked abode.

---

Bringing Pets
1. Luna Rose (Mephit: Beastmaster I)
2. Flitter (Flitten)
3. Junior (Black Bog Leech)
4. Sioda (Mimic Moth)

The realization that one has been transformed into a frog, perhaps irreparably, is an event that many would consider to be traumatic. Similarly, many would consider a first meeting with Morrigan to be a grievous occasion. As such, at this moment, we will watch as Veliky undergoes the five stages of grief, beginning with the one that takes her first: denial.

'It'll probably wear off... at some point.' By now, she's been sitting here, frogging about, for what must be a few minutes, though her perception of time feels somewhat warped by simply how small she is. And, in that time, there's been little change. Also in that time, she's tried all manner of method to escape her confinement in the body of a tiny frog: she's tried reversing, the process by thinking about what it'd be like to be a person walking on two legs; she's tried standing up to emulate the nature of a halfling; she's even tried tapping her own head against one of the blades of grass, wondering if physical damage could end the effect. But nothing quite worked.

And now, though worry has begun to creep into her mind, she holds onto the notion that this is only a temporary effect. After all, Cirice wouldn't intentionally render her into a frog forever, would she?

But as Frogliky sits there, pondering the sorry state of affairs, a great shadow overtakes. It's as if the sun were blotted out; and, indeed, its light has been intercepted by the looming figure that stands before her. She looks up in confusion.

'Is that...? It's that Kaivalya guy... Fuck, he's going to step on me!' At least, that's what she thinks at first, and that does come dangerously close to transpiring. It's only a death-defying leap that removes her from the great sandal's destructive path. But, with that burst of energy, she takes a deep frog-breath and knows that she's safe. 'Dammit, that was too close... I've gotta find someplace safe. Maybe if I go under that wagon... Wha-?! Hey!'

Suddenly, she feels a great force upon her, pressing against her head! She looks up, only to find that the fellblood has noticed her, knelt down and decided to poke her!

Anger.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" she attempts to yell with all the authority that she usually wears. But, even as she musters all that power, all that comes out is the tiniest of squeaks. Veliky is mortified; she'd never considered it before, but being robbed of her voice isn't unlike being robbed of a weapon. How does she tell this guy to back the hell off?

She can't, is the realization that comes to her. And, as if her squeak had only served to entice the beast further, she's defenceless as Kaivalya reaches down and scoops her into the air. She kicks her little frog-feet, but to no avail. She's been captured by the enemy.

"Put me down, you freak!" she screams internally (and repeatedly). But what is vocalized is only a repetition of those little squeaks: the sonorous war-cries of a very angry frog.

Veliky was swearing up a storm. Or, perhaps it was better to say squeaking and squealing up a storm in her current form, cursing out Morrigan in any number of ways. Morrigan, of course, was oblivious to all this. They stared down at the little creature in their hands, still amazed she hadn’t tried to jump away or anything. “You’re a chatty little one, aren’t you?” They cooed, petting the frog on the back of her head with a ring-clad finger. Man, who would have thought that this shitty job would lead to them finding another pet of all things? “Don’t worry, I’ve got plenty of food for you back at the wagon. You’ll love it there!”

What the hell did frogs even eat? Eh, it didn’t matter. Morrigan probably had something for the little creature to snack on.

Eventually, they came upon a rather loud and obnoxious wagon parked beneath a cluster of trees. Canvas in all colors and designs made up its coverings, with all kinds of fabrics and tarps along the side. Bells and whistles hung from every available surface, windchimes blowing softly in the wind. It was possibly the brightest and most offensive vehicle known to man. And on the side of it, in large, sparkling letters, Veliky would be able to read…

MORRIGAN MOONWEAVER’S WAGON OF WONDERS

Surely, this was hell.

Morrigan pushed back the tarp, bringing the little creature inside. If she was holding out any hope that its interior might be different from its exterior, then she would be sorely proven wrong. The wagon was a damn mess of odds and ends, fineries and jewels and random bits of fake-magic looking junk stashed in every corner. And the most alarming part was the long table along the side, bolted to the ground - what looked like some sort of cross between an alchemy station, where Morrigan had brewed any number of deadly poisons, and a wet bar, with liquor bottles and glasses left out in the open. It was utterly ridiculous. No one in their right mind would ever put such dangerous concoctions so close to their drinks, would they?

The answer was yes, Morrigan would.

The fresh horrors untold in this circus of a vehicle would have to wait. Morrigan moved to set the little frog on a nearby table that was partially covered in little bits of cloth and jewelry, ones that looked just small enough to fit on an animal of her size.

“I made these for one of my other animals, Flitter…” Morrigan explained, as if the frog could really understand what they were saying. “But I think they’ll suit you just fine. No pet of mine is going to go without plenty of accessories or jewels!” They asserted.

And that was when Veliky’s torture truly began in earnest.

Morrigan’s little fashion show took no less than an hour, consisting of trying on several different accessories that they’d made for the flitten that was currently buzzing around in the air. A little bejeweled crown. A little princess dress. Eventually, they settled on a cape with stars and a moon, and one final accessory… a little wizard hat.

“Oh, it’s perfect!” Morrigan clapped their hands together. “A little wizard apprentice is perfect for my brand! Now all you need is a name.”

They tapped at their chin, regarding the wizard-frog, who looked rather disgruntled in her cape and pointy hat that were slightly too big on her. What a tiny creature she was. It was only befitting that someone of her stature be given a grandiose name to make her seem bigger.

“Hmm… I think your name shall be Aurelia Moonbeam Shimmerpath. How does that sound?”

What fresh hell is this?

Veliky continues to cry aloud as the fellblood frognapper skips along with nary a care in the world, not even the merest hint of empathy for the frog that he simply scooped up and off of the ground. Does he really think he can just take whatever animal he wants? Hasn't he ever heard of animal rights?

And what's he talking about? Food?! Frogliky shudders at the thought; if she has to eat things that frogs would normally eat... He isn't keeping termites in his wagon, is he?

No. She can't let this happen. She has to escape somehow -- by whatever means necessary. In a brave act of self-defense, she opens her tiny jaws and clamps down on the fellblood's violet-hued finger!

...

Nothing. He didn't even notice. She can't move, she can't fight; she's utterly helpless as he brings her into his gaudy domain.

The curtain is pushed aside, and Veliky's frog-eyes are assaulted with a concentrated, yet disparate blast of colours. She feels as if she's been struck with a nova bomb! It takes several frog-blinks before she's able to regain her sight, ogling about at the myriad eccentricities. Everything she witnesses brings its own wave of questions: Why is it so colourful? Why are there alchemical reagents next to cocktail mixers? Why is every surface coated in a layer of glitter-dust? She's seen serial killers' dens that are less unsettling than this. But none of it is so disturbing as the implements of torture that she sees scattered across a table. She knows for a fact that those tiny hats aren't big enough for a person to wear. Despair overtakes her as she realizes her fate.

Her rotund form is set down on the table, and she momentarily considers hopping away. But the drop from the table to the floor... she isn't sure how far frogs can fall without harm, but that's a risk she isn't willing to take. Still, she makes a point by scampering as far away from this 'Morrigan' as she can -- as far as the table's landscape-confines allow.

“I made these for one of my other animals, Flitter… But I think they’ll suit you just fine. No pet of mine is going to go without plenty of accessories or jewels!”

Wait... Pet? He isn't seriously intending on keeping frogliky, is he? She can't let that happen. Surely there's some way for her to break out of this frog-form, but...

Bargaining.

She'll need to wait for her opportunity.

---

Approximately an hour passes and Veliky wishes she were dead. Every accessory was a new reality of horror for her to experience, from pink satin to cutesy gemstones. 'Who the fuck even makes clothes in this size?!' she wonders. Hell, it's difficult for her to find clothes in her *normal* size. Of course, she knows the answer -- it's standing in front of her, with a grin across its purple face. But that doesn't mean she wouldn't screech the question if she had the necessary verbiage to do so.

And now she's sat with an oversized wizard's hate, and an oversized wizard's cape. She's never felt more dejected.

“Oh, it’s perfect! A little wizard apprentice is perfect for my brand! Now all you need is a name.”

"Burn in hell." the little frog squeaks vehemently, the wizard-hat sliding over one of her eyes.

“Hmm… I think your name shall be Aurelia Moonbeam Shimmerpath. How does that sound?”

"..."

Depression.

It's no use. It's been over an hour now and she still hasn't turned back. If nothing else, the cape is effective -- *too* effective. Because of it, she's found herself trapped in a personal nightmare from which she has no means of escape, subject to the manic whims of a deranged fellblood who has an unhealthy fascination with very small fashion shows.

'This is my life now...' she supposes, a frog-tear forming in the corner of her frog-eye. 'Platinum Corp, making the world a better place... I guess that's all over. I'm not even Veliky anymore. I'm just the pet of some random-'

POOF!

...

In the blink of an eye, there is no longer a frog on the table, sitting in front of Morrigan and wearing a little wizard costume. It has completely and utterly vanished. What remains in its stead is Morrigan's employer, sitting in front of him and wearing a tiny wizard hat on her head - along with a green half-cape that she probably wasn't wearing before. Her legs dangling off the side of the table, she looks utterly dumbfounded -- lost. Is that a tear in her eye?

It doesn't stay long. In an instant, it boils into steam^[1] as Veliky's face slowly twists into teeth-gritting fury.

---

1. Angelic Light

In one second, Morrigan was gushing over Aurelia Moonbeam Shimmerpath’s new outfit. She looked so precious in that little oversized cape, and the little hat that was currently sliding off her head until it rested at an angle. How adorable! One might have thought it odd for someone like Morrigan to have a soft spot for tiny little creatures, but oh, how they did enjoy getting to dress up the little things. In the wagon, Luna Rose, Sioda, and Flitter were all adorned in similar accessories - an elegant feather boa on Luna Rose, a tiny pink hat on Sioda, and a bowtie on Flitter. It was obvious that Morrigan had an eye for aestheticism, though grandiosity and color was no substitute for actual taste.

And then the frog was no longer a frog, but an entire person, sitting on Morrigan’s table.

… Who the hell was this?

Morrigan crossed their arms, staring down at the little blond lady who’d so rudely made herself home on their table, squishing all of the accessories they’d worked so hard on! How rude! And what had happened to Aurelia Moonbeam Shimmerpath?

“Who the hell are you, frog murderer?” They demanded, moving to get closer to scoop this intruder up and check to make sure their new, dear frog was alright.

And now for the fifth stage of Veliky's version of the five stages of grief: anger again.

"WHO THE HELL AM I?! I'M YOUR EMPLOYER, YOU MAADPITE!" she screams, face going beet-red in rage as the little hat is practically launched off her head. "YOU PICK ME UP OFF THE FLOOR FOR NO REASON, KIDNAP ME BACK TO YOUR WEIRDO-DEN AND DRESS ME UP FOR AN HOUR, AND NOW YOU'VE GOT THE FUCKING AUDACITY TO GIVE ME ATTITUDE?! WHAT KIND OF FREAK JUST PICKS A FROG OFF THE GROUND AND STARTS PUTTING IT IN PRINCESS DRESSES?!"

Her righteous rebuke can be heard for kilometres, drawing many concerned eyes (including the crimson lenses of Blixtbots™, who turn their heads to the wagon with a creak) to the wagon.

She hops off the table, landing hard with both boots on the wooden floor. But this marks no end to her barrage.

"And what the fuck do you think you're doing spending this much time, just lazing about anyway?! You're supposed to be WORKING! And instead you're playing dress-up with your BOSS that you didn't even ASK! Take your wagon and get the fuck out of here; you're fired!"

And with that, she storms out of the wagon, back into the field. One can practically see the steam billowing out the top of her head as she does.

“What the… my boss?” This little bean-like woman was the big and powerful Veliky that had hired so many idiots off the road to do her bidding? Honestly, Morrigan might have been paying more attention to the verbal tongue-lashing they were currently on the receiving end of, if they weren’t more distracted by the fact that her face currently resembled a cherry-red tomato while she was yelling at them.

“Well how in the world was I supposed to know that my employer likes to go galavanting around as a little toad?” Morrigan snipped back, sticking their nose in the air. It was rare that Morrigan met someone shorter than them, but apparently, they held victory over Veliky in the height department, and they were about to use that to their full advantage. “I didn’t see a nametag on that frog - er, you. Rule of finder’s keepers, no? I don’t see any problem in adopting a pet from the wild.”

But Veliky wasn’t finished. Then she had to start going on and on about boring, mind-numbing shit like workplace productivity and wasting time on the clock or whatever the hell she was going on about. Honestly, Morrigan was only half-listening. They pretended to clean some of the wax out of their ears while she yelled, before finally ending on one devastating note - that they were terminated effective immediately.

“… Is that all?” Unfortunately for Veliky, where her insults might have fazed a lesser man, she’d had the misfortune of running into a brick wall of a person, one that was so assured in their greatness and so utterly absorbed with themselves that they were left entirely unrattled, and confused as to why she was so upset. She stormed out of the wagon, content with the fact she’d had the last word. But not for long.

“Fired? Fired?” Morrigan poked their head out of the wagon after her. “You can’t fire me! I quit! You got that? I terminated myself of my own free will, because I - Morrigan Moonweaver - will not be tied down to this farce of a capitalist regime! May the working man rise up and overthrow the one percent!”

With one last huff, they turned back into their wagon, going to mix a drink. Who did that Veliky woman think she was, anyways? Morrigan was a joy to be around! What did she mean she didn’t like getting dressed up? Whatever - that was her loss. Morrigan would take their work elsewhere, where they’d actually be valued and respected, and someone else could clean up those smelly cows, thank you very much.