Wanted to write more about frogs, as they are really fun in expansion scenarios! To help I've created a frog rogue character named Sven, who tends to have very creative ways of escaping with riches. Includes inflation and accidental popping!

While floating away from his latest heist, Sven the rogue gets caught up in testing his limits as he expands further and further...

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The Loot Balloon
By: Indi

Sven leisurely strolled through the quiet halls of the mansion as the last of the sleeping gas dispersed. The few guards and servants on duty were all peacefully passed out, and would remain so for at least another hour or two. Which gave the tree frog rogue plenty of time to loot to his heart’s content.

He immediately headed towards the mansion’s vault, finding it exactly where his informant had said it’d be. Within were dozens of lockboxes filled with gold coins, along with towering stacks of thin gold bars and pouches of jewels. It was an immense fortune, more than any one person could hope to carry.

But Sven had a trick up his sleeve.

The frog grabbed the first box of coins and lifted it above his head, opening wide. He shook the contents out, swallowing every last coin. His middle swelled and jingled as it emptied into his stomach. Sven wasted no time moving on to the next one.

Box after box of coins were deposited into Sven’s swelling belly, which was rapidly becoming a bulging vault in its own right. Soon he’d gained a ball gut filled with riches. He lugged his heavy gut around with him, occasionally giving it a wobble just to hear the coins jingle.

His clothes were constantly tight but never in danger of ripping, growing along with him. An important enchantment to have for a thief who relied on expansion.

When he’d gobbled up every gold coin he switched to gold bars, shoving them into his wide mouth by the handful. He could feel his large belly weighing him down but he persisted, waddling slowly from one feast to the next. By the time he’d cleared out the entire vault, he could barely move.

“Oof, that was a bit more than I’d expected—uorrrrp!” A single coin flew from Sven’s mouth and rolled along the floor. He considered grabbing it for a second, but knew if he tried he’d ended up beached and helpless. It’d be his gift to the noble he was robbing, a token of his gratitude.

Having crammed the contents of the vault into his belly, Sven still needed to escape. Running on foot was simply out of the question. No, the safest route was the least expected one.

Sven slowly made his way out of the vault and through the mansion, arriving at an enclosed courtyard. He stood in the very center of it, and concentrated.

Within the tree frog various chemical reactions began to occur. Using magic he produced a benign toxin with a very curious side effect: it acted like helium.

Once more Sven’s belly began to balloon, this time with lighter-than-air gas. The lumps from the valuables smoothed away, and gradually his gut started sagging less and less. His sides swelled and his middle rounded out. He was looking more and more spherical by the second.

The weight of the riches lessened until he felt just as empty as he’d been when he’d entered the mansion. His arms and legs were beginning to be enveloped, his head sitting atop the round ball his body had become. Sven didn’t feel his feet leave the ground, but his gentle wobbling was enough to reveal he was airborne.

As the frog turned into a near-perfect sphere he halted the toxin’s flow and ceased the swelling. His taut, rubbery hide creaked faintly from the strain, but he wasn’t bothered by it. He’d be perfectly fine as long as he didn’t bump into anything sharp or start inflating again.

Sven rose at a modest pace, the riches inside him still weighing him down some. It was the middle of the night, so the odds of being seen in flight were low. Besides, he admittedly enjoyed being a balloon.

Expansion was one of the rogue’s passions, a favorite way for him to unwind. Thanks to his magic he could inflate and deflate whenever he wanted, able to achieve the perfect size for whatever his mood was. Quite often that meant testing his limits. As far as he was concerned the rounder the better, even if his hide creaked in protest and threatened to rupture. He’d come close to popping in the past, but had always avoided it.

The inflated frog floated just above the rooftops of the surrounding buildings, then higher still. He shifted himself so he could enjoy the view, looking out across the silent city in awe. He felt like a bird—or perhaps a borb, considering his shape.

Once Sven was high enough he activated his magic belt, which nudged him in whatever direction he wished. It was a useless trinket for most, but an ideal tool for anyone who happened to be blimped up.

The slow float towards his hideout gave Sven plenty of time to think. Too much time. His thoughts drifted to his size. He gently stretched, causing his hide to creak and tingle from brief spikes in pressure. There was still a lot of give, and he couldn’t help but imagine growing bigger—just a little.

Sven’s concentration renewed, and the toxin began to flow. A low dose, to produce a faint swell. The frog was inflating again, hide stretching in all directions. The creaks grew bolder, longer.

“Oh stop complaining,” he chuckled. “You’re practically rubber, you were meant to stretch.” His hide didn’t seem to agree.

His hands and feet were sinking further into his body, enough to make wiggling them difficult. The omnipresent pressure pushing at every inch of his body was growing. It didn’t hurt, but it was undeniably intense in a way Sven delighted in. It was also a distraction.

With his mind focused more and more on the immense pressure, Sven forgot he was still producing the helium toxin.

Though Sven’s clothing was designed to stretch, it wasn’t indestructible. Seams started to rip, their sound covering the worst of the creaks from his hide. His magic belt strained, digging into his bloated middle and worsening the pressure. His careful flight was now erratic, and he was drifting upward more than onward, nearly out of control.

Sven moaned, having fallen into a euphoric daze. All he could think of was getting bigger, of swelling until he filled the night sky. And in such a delirious state, the frog truly believed that was possible.

The rogue ballooned bigger and rounder and creakier. His body completely enveloped his hands and feet, and most of his head as well. The belt snapped apart, falling to the distant ground as Sven moaned from the sudden wobbling and swelling that occurred after. His clothes were shredded. In the sky above the city, a black-and-turquoise moon shone in the starlight.

It was a fleeting satellite.

Creaks grew constant and more pained. With his hide as taut as a drum, further expansion was physically impossible. A tiny hole appeared in his side, turning into a massive tear in an instant. Sven was too lost in the pressure to realize what was happening, smiling and moaning till the very end.

The popping of the frog echoed throughout the city, startling the night owls and even waking a few nearby. Glossy scraps of hide flew like confetti. Coins, jewels, and gold rained down upon the city below clattering off rooftops and across streets. Those lucky enough to witness it scooped up everything they could without questioning where it could’ve possibly come from.

Sven’s indulgence had unintentionally ensured that dozens wouldn’t have to worry about food or rent for months to come. But best of all, he’d gone out with a wonderful bang.