A shorter chapter this time! After some hiatus between ch. 1 and 2, I'm hoping to get a chapter out at least bi-weekly, and I have so many ideas for this story to get out. This is far more of an introductory chapter to Poelle's ranch, but it's still got the sauce. ATM I'm just trying out different sizes for paragraphs, and it's possible they may end up closer to 8k than 4k words in future. Our gob has her quest, and now she just has to follow through with it -- Which would be new for her, actually. Enjoy the continued disaster of Ruffles, and thank you for reading :)
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Leaving the musty stink of Spyt's inner city behind, Ruffles refreshedly rambles the roads of rural Vistela, far already on her path to find the alchemist. Having spent all of her one coin on a revitalizing stay at an exceedingly unexceptional inn, and a hearty breakfast to follow, she waddles with her tummy full and her mind focused, though the little frog now clinging to the neck of her guitar was hardly zen. Hugo couldn't help but release his stream of complaints, spewing out everything he had been wanting to talk about for the last six months, to a reluctantly willing Ruffles. She was an excellent listener, in part due to not understanding most of what was said to her, the goblins simply smiling and nodding.
The two (or, rather, one and her little green parasite) had walked for about an hour, the scorching sun practically melting the poor gob underneath as she passes the scattered suburb that contrasted the densely packed central city, and eventually out into the rolling hills, quilted with patches of farmland. The red upturned dirt underneath turned to green and yellow grass at the edges, and Ruffles seemed confident in their path past two or three miles of fencing, crops, and animals. With each cow or sheep within range, Ruffles would rush up to try and pet them. She hopped up on every fence she could, attempting to pat the livestock, who were usually nowhere close. Rejected with confused stares at her waving hands, she spends a moment in destitution, before immediately attempting the next creature seen. Hugo grew quickly tired of this tirade, but didn't have the heart to tell her to stop, just sighing noisily with each try.
"You really have no other savings whatsoever? This could have taken us twenty fuckin' minutes if only we had a horse." Hugo wails in his little froggy form, plucking strings on her instrument aimlessly. Ruffles glances up to him with a carefree smile.
"It's fine! I've got super strong legs! How do you think I got thighs like these?" She smirks, slapping her thick, pillowy thighs. They weren't quite as muscular as she made them out to be, and her torn leggings allowed for little stripes of green to bulge through. It was as if she'd completely forgotten about the giant hole in her pants. In this weather, the breeze was welcomed, but that didn't change the fact every passing traveller turned to look at the fat-cheeked midget with a pet frog.
"Big breakfasts?" Hugo heckles, flashing back to the horrific scene at the breakfast table, still bewildered at how such a little lady could scarf down an entire leg of ham, and still be peckish.
"Hey!" Ruffles yells, flicking Hugo off her guitar, the frog only barely managing to grasp a guitar string to avoid his demise at a horse cantering by. It's rider peers down, pushing up the brim of his hat to glance at Ruffles' ass, almost guiding his horse into the back of cart in front of him.
"Alright, you little lunatic, we there yet?" He asks, rubbing his bruised forehead with a slimy set of bulbous fingertips.
"Almost!" Ruffles says, turning onto a much smaller path that hadn't seen much attention, a more forested area with trees having been planted in even spacings along the long, straight path.
"So... Tell me about this Poelle chick." Hugo asks. "What should I expect?"
"Um... Poelle is really smart! She teaches me all kinds of things, but she's a little mean sometimes. Heh, she's weird, too, but she's kind at the end of the day - she helps people, after all! Just... Has her own ways of doing it." She begins, her explanation lacking real articulation, and Hugo struggles to get a proper image of the woman in her head. "She's cute, shorter than me! And she has all kinds of monsters on her farm!" She continues, Hugo audibly gulping as he hears 'monsters.'
"Heh, Ruffles, I get you might be scared of animals, but not everyone you see is a monster..." He laughs nervously. Since a certain incident involving parasitic arachnids south in Louvra, he's been very, very cautious of any kind of monster.
"Nope! Big ones! The kind that would eat you! Kill millions!" She exaggerates, putting her hands up as claws as she bares her sharp teeth. "They're really nice, though! You should meet a few of them." She continues, shuffling along as Hugo looks around anxiously, as she reaches an opening at the end of the path. It reveals a breath-taking patch of land -- A few acres of fenced property, surrounded by Vistela's national red-leaved trees as a visual barrier. With a handful of structures, including a huge greenhouse, three barns, and a big farmhouse, it was an impressive setup, with a huge lake at the centre of the plot. Grazing fields are set up alongside huge, tall plots of crops, and the interior of the greenhouse looks saturated with green. Hugo whistles, glancing around.
"Doesn't look too bad, Ruff! Your girl's got a nice place for herself." He comments, admiring the rustic yet comfortable looking area, with various farming tools strewn about with barrels of hay and wooden crates. Ruffles nods, walking up the smaller, lighter-coloured dirt path, though she doesn't spot any of the monsters about.
"They like to hide. Most of them haven't had too good an experience outside this farm, but, Poelle treats them nicely!" She explains, picking Hugo up from the guitar and holding him in her hand. She darts over to the entrance, and as the pair get closer they can see it isn't the average idyllic farmhouse they'd expect from this area. It was a strangely constructed, disjointed complex with a garage section that had been modified into some kind of workshop. Outside it was a wreath of scattered equipment, Hugo recognising a lot of it to be material processing devices used often by his ex at her laboratory. The larger side door was locked, however, and Ruffles decided to walk straight in through the front door. The front wall was painted in a rich sacramento green, with a little signpost above that wrote 'Potion La Pelle'. Entering, the interior of the first room was a kind of storefront -- A large counter with a dozen layered shelves behind, all featuring strange little bottles and trinkets. Loose alchemical ingredients and plants hung from the ceiling, and various menus of prices lined the counter's front, ranging from tolerable to extreme prices depending on the complexity of the potion. All of these were way out of Ruffles' budget, but she didn't even glance at it as the little bell above the door rang, marking their arrival.
"Whoa, funky smell in here." Hugo points out, the entire house smelling strongly of aromatic herbs, fusty mushrooms, and clinical chemicals that all made for an intoxicating concoction, immediately making the pair lightheaded upon entering. The frog hops onto the counter, where they both wait for a few moments. He tries ringing the bell on the table, and with a lack of reply, he steps on it again. Ruffles joined in, dinging the bell over and over with her index finger, rapidly pressing down on it. A muffled scream appears from down a corridor behind the counter, which was covered in a thin iron mesh to prevent anyone from climbing over.
Suddenly, a short figure hurries in from the door on the other side, covered from head to toe in leather. They had a huge ankle-length protective dress on with huge gloves up to their elbows, big boots, and an odd bucket-like helmet with goggles built into the front -- A frankly bizarre look, made only comedic by the size of the wearer. "I knew it was you, you moron. You just can't resist the opportunity to snatch away any attention for yourself, can't you?" Shouts the stifled voice, scrambling to throw off the helmet with her thick gloved fingers. Undoing a leather strap at the back, she slams it on the countertop, revealing her surprisingly pretty visage underneath. Who Hugo could only assume to be Poelle was a petite-looking goblin, with long downturned ears and a short, messy bob of hair in a straw colour. Her eyes were a remarkable cherry pink, giving the otherwise ordinary goblin a somewhat mystical charm.
Steam was practically rising from the scorching skin of the alchemist, wearing full leathers in sweltering heat. Shaking her head, she tugs the protective dress off herself, throwing her gloves to the side and slipping herself out from underneath the muggy suit. Not quite noticing the frog just yet, she appeared perfectly comfortable stripping down in front of Ruffles, and it looked like she'd been desperate to. Kicking off the rest of her clothes, leaving them in a pile behind the counter, the scorching, sweaty goblin fans herself off with her hand. She had a lithe but muscular build -- Toned, but skinny, with petite little tits contrasted with her incredible hips, thick thighs, and huge ass. Her crotch was shaved, though a little stubble grew above her pussy, and her general complexion was a little lighter green compared to Ruffles.
Hugo's jaw drops as he watches the show, making note of the tan lines across her chest, and the outline of shorts on her thighs, ending just above her knees. "That's so much fucking better." She exhales, pulling out something from a shelf underneath the counter -- A little mechanical fan. It had a polished wooden handle with little aluminium blades, and as she presses down on a lever at the side, the blades spin rapidly. She pumps the thing as she looks over to Ruffles, her hair shimmering slightly with the wind. "The suit was for processing Morlagos residue -- The resulting slime is a magnificent catalyst; however, the by-product will eat through your skin within seconds. I was pretty much done, though." She explains, her manner of speaking smart, but bratty, with a high voice far smoother to listen to than Ruffles'.
