Disclaimer: All characters are over 18. This story contains futa on male, furry/anthro characters, dubious consent, mild sadism, and a healthy dose of hentai physics. No elves were harem'd in the making of this chapter.
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*Ka-CHUNK*
Blaire's chest swelled with pride as the guild receptionist stamped his card. He was in! He was officially an adventurer, and now he had the stamp to prove it!
The receptionist looked him over with a raised eyebrow as she handed him his adventuring card and badge of rank. He knew she was silently judging him. Most people did when they first saw him: small, slender, with delicate curls of blond hair cascading over his shoulders, he didn't exactly look the part of a rugged adventurer.
Why would a pretty girl like you want to do such a dangerous job?
He had lost count of the times he'd heard that question during training. But all those assholes could go fuck themselves. He was here! He had worked hard, travelled to the big city, trained his body and his magic, and now here he was, officially a member of the Altan City Adventurer's Guild.
He couldn't help but let out a happy little giggle as he affixed the guild badge to his chest. A red triangle: F rank. It was the lowest rank, but everybody had to start somewhere. At least the red looked good against the pink fabric of his mantle.
"Blaire Tolwen." The receptionist spoke up, startling Blaire out of his thoughts. "Welcome to the Adventurer's Guild. The quest board is to your right. Unaccompanied F-ranks are restricted to quests of two skulls or lower, for your own safety." Her voice was a flat monotone, reciting a speech she had no doubt repeated a thousand times before. "The tavern is to your left, and lodgings are upstairs. You're on the fifth floor," she tossed him a key. "As a healer, I strongly advise you join a party before attempting any quests. You won't last very long solo, I dare say."
Blaire nodded, catching the key. He looked over at the tavern. It was packed with people, adventurers of all kinds. Humans, orcs, beastmen, elves, every race he could think of and more. Some of them were hunched together in dark corners, whispering together; others were chugging ale and shouting raucously. He gripped his staff tightly, scanning the crowd for other red badges. This was the hardest part, he knew. Somewhere in this building was his future party! Perhaps he'd find a group of lovable misfits gathered in an unlikely cooperation, or maybe an erstwhile prince and his companions, exiled from their kingdom! The people he would spend countless hours with, questing together, conquering dungeons together, forming unbreakable bonds of friendship and camaraderie. The people he was going to save the world with! But first...first he had to find them. And looking around the room, there didn't seem to be a lot of other F-ranks, certainly not entire parties of them who might be in the market for a healer. The only red badges he saw were scattered around, sitting at tables full of higher-ranked adventurers.
He did manage to make eye contact with one F-rank, a cute elven girl wearing a similar healer's raiment to his own. She smiled at him from across the room, and for a second it looked like she was about to wave him over. But then the moment was broken. The orc next to her wrapped an arm around her, pulling her towards him and lifting her chin to plant a kiss on her lips. Blaire watched in shock as the elf melted into the kiss, pressing herself against the huge green warrior and running a hand over his broad chest. Blaire couldn't believe his eyes. In a public tavern!? Altan City sure was a different place from his village.
Turning away and coughing to cover his shock, he instead looked to the Guild receptionist, who was still leaning against her counter, watching him with a bored expression.
"Uh..." he stammered, unsure of how to start. "Do you know where I could find a party to join? I don't see anybody here who looks, well...welcoming. I'd really like to join a group of other F-ranks. Everybody starting from the bottom together, you know?"
The receptionist gave Blaire another once-over before sighing. "This isn't a storybook, honey. Real life doesn't work out that nicely. You're going to have to join an existing party, one that both needs a healer and is willing to let an F-rank join. If you want to pay a couple of coppers, I can help you post a Looking for Group request on the board tomorrow morning. But I'll tell you right now, there aren't a lot of options you could go with. I dare say, the only serious opportunity for you right now is
them
."
She glanced to a table in the far corner, separated at some distance from the others. The reason for the distance was obvious - the party was led by a huge centauress. Given her size, her plate armor, and her giant warhammer, she could never hope to fit among the regular tables. Next to her sat a demoness dressed in a stylish but oversexualized version of a warlock's outfit, and a dark-furred, leather-clad beastwoman. A raccoon? A bunny of some kind? Blaire wasn't sure. She was distracted, laughing with the centaur, but the demoness immediately noticed Blaire watching them. The pale-skinned, purple-haired tiefling met Blaire's gaze and smiled, her red eyes seeming to glow in the dim light.
"I'll warn you in advance, those three don't mess around," the guild girl continued. "The last healer that tried to join them only lasted a week. You might be better off waiting, doing some contract work with the Houses of Healing while you wait for a different opportunity. But if you really want to start tonight, you should go over there and introduce yourself. I'll get the paperwork ready." She disappeared into a back room and left Blaire alone, wondering what to do.
As Blaire looked at the isolated table, the succubus stood. She winked at Blaire before walking away, tracking down a barmaid to order more drinks.
The centauress had obviously already had quite a lot of ale. Gesticulating wildly, she acted out some glorious duel she'd won in the past. One of her hindlegs kicked out as she mimed lunging forward, and it slammed into the wall behind her, leaving a sizeable hole and making the entire building rattle. She froze, her story forgotten as the whole room quieted down. In the silence, a lone, gruff voice called out from behind the bar. "Fuck off, Rea! You're paying for that, you damn drunken bitch!" Her anthro comrade broke into hysterical laughter as the centauress blushed with embarrassment, and conversation across the room slowly started up again.
The demoness, meanwhile, had taken the opportunity to enthrall a passing barmaid. She was pressed up against the poor girl from behind, hands gripping her shoulders, wingtips encircling her hips. The girl was quivering, her face getting redder and redder as the succubus whispered in her ear. The demon's tail, long and pink with a large bulb at the end, wrapped around the girl's ankle and started to slither upward. But as Blaire watched from afar, feeling an erection start to grow in spite of himself, he noticed that the succubus' eyes weren't focused on the maid at all. She was still staring at him, as if gauging how he'd react. When her eyes flicked down to the growing tent in his crotch, he forced himself to turn away. This was a public tavern! He *wasn't* getting turned on by some shameless whore of a demoness. He was stronger than that!
Forcing himself to not look back at whatever the demoness and the barmaid were getting up to, he slowly approached the table where the centauress and the beastwoman were still laughing and drinking together.
"H-hello!" he began, giving a quick and awkward bow. His voice caught as he looked up at them, suddenly realizing how
large
they were. The beastwoman -- now that he was closer he could finally tell that she was a tanuki, not a bunny -- was practically the size of an orc. And the centauress was even bigger! "Uh...oh. Uh, um..." He paused, forcing himself to take a deep breath. Focus! He was an adventurer now! He had to act like one. "Sorry, let me start over. Hi. My name's Blaire. I was looking for a p-party to join. And I heard you had an open spot? You needed a healer? I'm a healer! A-and I can carry my own weight, I promise!"
Blaire felt his face heating up, blushing furiously as he bumbled his way through his introduction. It came out less like a job proposition and more like begging for a chance to prove himself. He looked at the two massive, monstrous women across the table, trying to gauge their reactions, hoping they'd see through his nervousness to the adventurer's spirit within.
A long, long second passed. Blaire started to feel sweat dripping down his back as the centauress looked him over with one hazel-colored eye, her tankard of ale frozen halfway to her lips. Finally, the enormous horse-woman cracked a wide grin and gestured to the open seat across from them.
"My my, you do look like a fun one. Sit down, girl."
Her deep contralto voice almost seemed to rumble as it resonated through a half-ton of horse flesh, and Blaire felt himself plop down into the offered seat before his brain even processed the command. He looked down, suddenly unsure of what to do with his hands, and realized he was still holding his staff. Maple, with a small focusing sapphire embedded into the head, it was Blaire's most valued possession. He gripped it tight, feeling the familiar comfort of its weight, seeing the sapphire catch the light from behind him. He forced himself to look up at his two -- hopefully -- new party members.
The centauress loomed over him from across the table. Even her human half was massive. She wore only a steel breastplate; the rest of her armor was stacked against the wall behind her. Muscles bulged and rippled as she lifted her ale tankard to her lips, and the light caught a deep scar running across her left shoulder. There was a twinkle of green in her eye as she stared at Blaire while chugging from the tankard. Her hair was cut so that it fell over one eye, obscuring half her face, but Blaire thought he could see another scar peeking out from under it and running across her nose.
She gestured at Blaire's Guild badge. "Red triangle. Rank F, eh? Just starting out? How wonderful. You're welcome to tag along with us, I suppose, for as long as your body can take it." The tanuki next to her snickered at that, but the centauress continued, lifting up her hair to reveal the right half of her face -- and the eyepatch where her right eye used to be. A thick, wicked-looking scar ran from her browline down across the bridge of her nose. "As you can see, we've been in need of a skilled healer for some time. I do wonder, though, if a little girl like you can handle all this." She set the empty tankard down, her arm again catching the light, showcasing her rippling muscles. The tanuki snickered again.
"I'm Rea Tanner, by the way. Rank B Warrior, fortress specialization. My comrade here who
won't stop laughing
," Rea glared at the beastwoman next to her, "is Lilliven Treeguard. Rank C Warrior, bladelord specialization. Our warlock Ellaria just left to get us some more drinks; you'll meet her in a minute.
"You've got good taste, joining up with us. We're one of the top adventuring parties in Altan City, you know. Fought the goblin invasion last year, helped put down the draft riots, first in line for all the new-"
"Rea." The tanuki cut her off. "The girl doesn't need to hear your life story." She turned to Blaire. "Honestly, the way this bitch likes to brag and flirt, I'm surprised she hasn't pulled off her breastplate yet. 'ooh, look at my scars! ooh, look at my abs all covered in sweat!' Don't sit too close to her, or she'll pull the 'don't you want to feel how soft my fur is' card!"
"Oh, like you don't do the same thing, Lily?" the centauress growled. "Like you don't sway that soft, fluffy tail of yours in sluts' faces until they're hypnotized?"
