"I offer you the chance to learn truths you have never known."
A smog enclosed Tauriel's body, faster than she had any chance to raise her bow or consider fleeing on foot. It would not have done her much good in any case; the Necromancer's power ran through the whole of Dol Guldur. Though she could not see what the dark
forces were doing to her, she could feel something different. A tingling sensation came over her whole skin, before it concentrated on her arms, her legs, and most bizarrely, her precious elven loins. The breeze of the open air where she stood penetrated the
black around her, and that was when she noticed its strong chill under her arms and between her thighs.
She had little time to contemplate these sensations before a terrible, malodorous stench stung her small elven nose. It took her back to a time not too long ago in her elven life, when she first visited the more downtrodden and poverty-stricken sections of
Lake-town. As the veil of darkness lifted, she finally saw the handiwork wrought by the Necromancer.
Tauriel was filthy. Mud and grime and all sorts of disgustingly oozy slime covered the once beautifully pale, naturally clean skin common of the elves, leaving her more akin to the wicked elfin corruption known as the orcs. But the Necromancer's changes to
her former beauty did not end with the soot slathered on her face and breasts. She could feel the tangles in her greasy red hair, hair that also grew thick and full from her arms, legs, armpits, and as she discovered as she felt lower, within the crack of
her ass and as a bush all over her quim.
Not only her body, but her clothes had also shifted, to better make light of her changes. On her long green coat, the sleeves now stopped at her elbows, while giant holes stretched at her armpits. The length of this coat hid some of the state of her former
pants turned into assless, crotchless leather shorts, making her appear presentable only until a wind blew the coat's flaps above her waist to let her flash any who might look upon her.
With these new revelations, she now knew the source of that horrid smell. It was her own newfound putrescence, wafting out of her armpits like a cloud of airborne poison. They reeked of sticky sweat and hot flesh, completely at odds with the woody and flowery
aromas of elf lands.
"What have you done to me!" Tauriel angrily cried.
"When something is destroyed, it can be replaced by something more beautiful," the Necromancer declared.
"You answer me with lying riddles! You mock me!"
"You mock yourself with a concern for your elven beauty. Would a true daughter of the stars not be noticed and admired no matter what darkness surrounds her? It should make no difference if that darkness comes from the filth and stench of her own body."
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