In a room
The sign reads
"Welcome all new travellers.
To continue you must go through a series of doors.
After going through you will pick a costume. You will then become a half- human and half that creature.
After a week(100 mins a hour,20 hrs a day,10 days a week) has passed you may morph and get another costume. To start of with you will only be able to become 40% human to 60% human.
If you put on a costume you will then become that creature, be teleported to it's home town and have to wait a week before being able to morph.
After 50 costumes you may change into one of your other costumes and become 30% to 70% human. When changing costumes you must wait at least an hour before you can change costumes again.
100 different species/gender costumes allows you to gender-morph and become 20% to 80% human
200 different species costumes allows you to combine costumes and become 10% to 90% human
400 different species costumes allows you to return to your world with no more morphing
And 800 different species costumes makes a polymorph and allows you to morph outside of this world.
Also if you have a costume like a centaur then the human part will always be human and is counted towards the human percentage.
Any gender/species transformation magic of yours can only change your gender(if you have at least 100 costumes) and the animal part to a different animal.
When you change into a different costume (that you already have) you may teleport to that species home town but you will have the week penalty where you have no costume changes.
If you die while wearing a costume you will be reborn at the local inn (or appropriate location ). If you have more then 100 costumes you will lose the costume you had when you died and go to an appropriate place for your next costume.
If you fail to make it out in 100 years(100 weeks in a year) one of your possible forms will be chosen and you will be permanently stuck in that form(apart from magic) until you die. Also there will be no possibility of going back to your world.
Also, one final note: should you take a female form and become pregnant, you won't be able to change your gender until the child is born, though the other aspects of your form may change (the child will change to match.) That is all, and good luck!
You realise that you have to do what the sign said to do and go through the doors and grab a costume.
Alternatively you could use the key system to determine the room
Written by Catprog on 11 February 2004
Normal Land
You go through the door.
All of a sudden it slams shut and with no handle on this side it appears that you are stuck.
There are two more doors however and both of them have a sign on them saying
Costume room for
Element: Land
Type: Normal
Gender: ????
So which door do you want
Written by Catprog on 26 February 2004
Female Normal Land
You go through the door.
All of a sudden it slams shut and with no handle on this side it appears that you are stuck.<P/>There are five costumes in this room, all of them female, all of them are normal land creatures.
- Snake <li><span class="female">Wolf</span></li>
Written by Catprog on 26 February 2004
Insert Neck Pun Here
A small circle of grass serves as the floor in this cylindrical room with white walls and light pouring down from the ceiling. What is this place? What is its purpose? Alas, your human desire to know goes unfulfilled.
Costumes sit before you in the silky emerald grass: A gray, brown and red pair of ears, a scaly skin, and a distinctly-patterned pull-over. There is no escaping this awesome labyrinth, no wishing your way out: the only option is to obey the mysterious signs.
For whatever reason, you opt for the giraffe pullover.
It's a little chilly in here, anyway...
BY THE NINE DIVINES! When you don the comfortable sweater, it affixes itself to your very flesh! Fabric becomes fur that swooshes over your body like a vengeful hurricane!
"The hell?" you cry as your legs snap, crackle and afterwards pop, your feet exploding into fiery bits, leaving behind cloven hooves! Your hands explode similarly, leaving behind three-fingered, ninja-turtle-esque appendages! You find yourself bumping sensitive horn nubs against the ceiling as your neck feels like it's put into a chiropractic machine! The final changes involve your stretching face and certain processes around your waist region!
With a puff, the walls collapse in the room, leaving you sitting in a circle of grass in the middle of a dry and dusty tan African savanna, as an anthropomorphic, female giraffe.
Suddenly, it ain't such a small world after all.
Written by Mr.Peaches on 11 January 2007
Maybe TOO raffe
Even though you're sitting down, your long neck puts your head pretty high up, and you start looking around.
In one direction there is a watering hole with what looks like a pride of lions flocking around it - or maybe they are priding?
The other way is a grove of tall trees you somehow instinctively recognize as acacias. Tasty leaves on those, you seem to remember an old voice telling you. Yeah right. Leaves. Bleah.
Between the two points and pretty close to you is the first sign of civilization (unless the lions are civilized). A narrow dirt road running from horizon to horizon. Didn't the rule sign say something about an inn? Maybe it lies somewhere on that road.
As you sit pondering your options your revere is shattered by a drawn out growl from below. You look down, fearing predators, but it's only your stomach. Soon after signals from your gastric region reach your command tower of a brain to inform you that you are hungry. Famished, even. Apparently this shapechanging business is extremely energy consuming, and you're in bad need of a recharge. Even acacia leaves is beginning to sound like a delicacy. Or maybe you could follow the road (either direction) and see if you can find a place that sells human food. Or gives it away, seeing as you don't appear to have any money.
Maybe it's the hunger, maybe it's the lack of oxygen in a brain so far from your lungs, but you even consider going over to the watering hole to have a word with the lions. Heck, the worst they can do is kill you, and then you will just be reborn, hopefully in a better place.
As you start getting to your feet, it occurs to you that you should have another look around, maybe you can spot something else if you're taller...
Written by Won-Tolla on 31 May 2007
Down by the Water
With nothing better to do, you decide to go see the lions at the water hole. It might not be the brightest thing to do - you are a prey animal now, sort of - but they're the only things in sight that aren't plants. Maybe they'll be able to tell you where you are. Besides, you're thirsty after your transformation.
As you get closer, you can see that all the lions around the pool have manes, so they must be males (if that works the same way here - genders haven't exactly been making sense since you arrived). They are all wearing bathing suits and lounging around like sunbathers at a beach. One of them looks up as you approach.
"Hey, guys, it's a giraffe!"
The others blink lazily. Some of them even move their heads to look at you.
"Hey, you're right!"
"Haven't seen one of those in ages!"
"Ya new here, stretchy?"
"How ya doin'?"
"Want a drink?"
Lions may eat giraffes in the wild (when they can catch them), but these ones seem harmless enough. Apart from the extra hair, they wouldn't seem out of place on an ordinary beach (though guys on beaches never paid this much attention to you when you shared a gender and a place on the food chain). As far as you can tell, they're humans - ex-humans - like you. They don't seem at all dangerous. Most of them are barely awake.
Something still seems odd. You can't quite put your hoof on it... Now that you're here, though, it can't hurt to take a drink.
Written by Chrysalis on 06 April 2008
Nothing to Worry About
You step forward and lean down - a long way down - to the water. You have to kneel on your hoof-like hands and knees to balance your neck. Your giraffe mouth doesn't work the way you're used to; there's way too much tongue and lip, and you splash water all over trying to figure out how to drink it. You'd be soaked if the rest of your body was anywhere near your head. The lukewarm water is a relief after the sudden transformation and the hot savanna, though, and it isn't long before you're gulping it down like a pro. Any lingering doubts about the lions disappear when they continue to not attack you while you drink. Several of them start snoring again.
You straighten up again, soaked to your ears but more relaxed than you've been since this whole crazy chain of events started. That's when it hits you. All the lions are male - all the ones in sight, that is. Humanoid or not, you can't help thinking of all those wildlife shows you've seen.
It's not the male lions that hunt. It's the females.
Written by Chrysalis on 06 April 2008
The Female of the Species
You have a sudden, desperate urge to look behind you. You almost make it. Your elevated head is turned almost ninety degrees when something hits you from behind, slamming you into the dusty grass hard enough to knock your breath out of your lungs. Your head lands at the bottom of the water hole a moment later. For a few seconds, the world is a mess of water and churned-up mud and no air, anywhere, as human and giraffe panic instincts send conflicting signals to the rest of your body. You can't remember how your neck works. It's sheer chance that your thrashing eventually brings your mouth above water. You take a deep, gasping breath. Your head clears enough to - finally - shift your attention from imminent drowning to the large, furry weight on your chest. Something is sitting on you. Claws dig into your unprotected skin.
Some new, undiscovered giraffe instinct makes you kick out wildly, sharp hooves trying to make contact with whatever it is, but something is sitting on your legs as well. Your arms are pinned to the ground the same way. You whip your neck around and finally manage to lift it out of the water - maybe you can club the thing with your head? - but you freeze as a soft paw full of needle-tipped claws comes to rest gently on your throat.
The message is clear: keep your neck still, or lose it.
"Now, now," a soft voice purrs. "You'll get the water muddy, thrashing around like that."
"Hey, you caught her!" one of the male lions calls lazily. "Good job. Lots of meat on that one."
There is a snort from somewhere around your shoulders. "Yeah, we caught her. No thanks to you."
You open your eyes cautiously, careful not to move your head in the process. Water drips from your fur and giraffe-length eyelashes. Squinting against the sun, you see a lioness sitting on your chest; she is humanoid, like the males, and also dressed in something like a swimsuit.
You suppress a nervous gulp as you notice that its pattern matches your own skin.
The male lions continue with the same good-natured laziness as when they were talking to you earlier. "Hey, we helped!" "We distracted her, didn't we?" "Hardly put up a fight at all."
"She wasn't distracted by you," the lioness sneers, "she was distracted by the water. Face it, you were all upstaged by a puddle." She grins wryly at you and rolls her eyes. "Men."
This doesn't seem the best time to mention that, until about fifteen minutes ago, you were one yourself. You grin weakly. "You can say that again." Not the wittiest response, but your neck is on the line, after all. You certainly have nothing to lose by playing along.
Written by Chrysalis on 06 April 2008