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33 — Guilds
🕑 Added 2025-07-22 13:11:01 +0000 UTCRennia sat awkwardly at a round table in the sparse lobby of the Ivarcant adventuring guild. The sunlight struck her face, thanks to the reflection of a mirror built into the wall near the entrance.
Everything inside was so clean and so quiet too. There weren't many moving bodies inside—a few squads of adventurers huddled together in different corners, staring at boards, planning and gossiping.
More than a dozen elves, a very rare sight for her. There were two elven families back in her hometown, not much more than that. Osterria had a habit of being racially prejudiced against elves, due to past conflicts.
A woman with a bright blue kirtle approached her. The dress was a contrast to her crimson hair, braided over her shoulder. She gave Rennia a smile as she sat down and put a cold and chilling glass of fruit juice on the table and a generous amount of spongecake. Rennia's attention was everywhere but the food. She was fixated on the woman herself, her massive breasts to be specific—skin-tight and barely contained. It took everything not to stare, especially with her new predicament.
"Thank you for coming in, Ms. Rennia. It's quite warm today, no? I find cold drinks are best kept for days like this. You're not allergic to strawberry drinks, are you? I'd hate to poison a new guild member."
She snapped out of her stupor, barely looking at her face. "Oh, um, thank you... sorry, and no, no allergies I'm aware of, Ms. Mara. Thanks again."
The chair Mara sat in creaked ominously. It wasn't every day you saw a six-foot woman built like she could birth an entire village. She adjusted the hem of her skirt, and Rennia couldn't help but stare at those swaying breasts.
Her mind turned to lecherous things, and she thought about pushing in between them. Not just her face, but her cock—she wanted to start thrusting between those huge and abnormally large breasts. And then face-fuck her from below.
Focus, Rennia. You're in public, with a nasty surprise under your skirt someone might see.
Mara let out a small sigh. "I know... I can be a bit... intimidating. You're not the first to be uneasy when meeting for the first time. If it helps—I don't bite anyone."
Rennia blushed and looked away, hiding her face. Ashamed. That was just the thing, wasn't it? She hoped she did bite. Mara's hands folded and she leaned slightly forward, staring at Rennia's face. "Are you okay? Perhaps if you're feeling under the weather, you could come another day." Her voice was low-pitched and polite.
"No, no. I'm ready—ahem—" Rennia chowed down half a piece of the spongecake and slurped obnoxiously through the glass of juice. Her eyes widened for a moment. It felt absolutely nice not to drink copious amounts of water and stale coffee for once, and the cake went down her throat nicely. "Please, ask away."
Mara gave her the warmest smile. Rennia caved in—she smiled back. And then she stopped smiling. "Your name, your age, where you are from, background, reasons for signing up for the guild in Ivarcant as a non-citizen. And so on and so forth."
She cleared her throat. I need to tread carefully here. Foreign land, foreign rules, foreign punishments. "My name is Rennia Perillion, I'm 20 years of age, I'm from the neighboring country of Osterria, from a small holding called Kibblestadt."
"Perillion? Sounds very familiar, but..." If Mara had surprise or interest about her origin, she didn't show it. But she kept on probing. "Kibblestadt, the town over the border out of the borderlands—that's quite a bit on foot."
Rennia frowned. "I-I suppose it is."
"Well then, if I may ask, what brings you to our guild, Miss Rennia? It's a bit weird to come over the border and then join the local guild instead. Some might think something's amiss."
Well, there was.
Rennia looked down at the half-eaten cake. "I don't have much of a reason to do it, but... it's kind of my destiny. It's been my goal to be an adventurer for a long time, but..." she paused, pondering. She supposed she could... "Some life-changing stuff happened back home. And well, I probably couldn't go back."
Mara jotted everything down, not a second wasted. She was building more than an interview—it may as well have been a dossier, as she made a rough sketch of Rennia halfway down the paper.
"Interesting. I suppose you won't enlighten us on what 'life-altering' means."
"I'd prefer not to."
"Of course. Your confidentiality is important to us."
"Thank you," Rennia said, bowing her head slightly.
Mara kept on smiling warmly, and Rennia kept on staring. By now the woman must have known what she was doing. She slid a small piece of paper across the table. "Please write down your class designation, subclasses of any sort, your known enhancements or negative effects that you are aware of—any at all. Unfortunately, most of our appraisers have left the city for a notable matter."
Rennia hesitated. Did she need to disclose both her classes? Of course she did—if she was going to be appraised, they were going to see it anyway. She took a deep breath and wrote down [Pathfinder], her level, her skills, the known stats she'd gotten since her transformation. Mara stopped her as her hand shook when she attempted to write down [Maiden of Eros]. That was going to raise a lot of questions.
"A Pathfinder? How rare. And judging by your level, it has to be new. Did you transfer into this, or have you always been this low-leveled?"
"It changed... after I... do I need to disclose this as well?"
"You don't need to, but I advise you to speak at least half of it. There are lots of applications here these days from distasteful and corrupt characters. Being honest means we'll be more lenient with your case."
It sounded much more like merchant speak, like she had rehearsed this part to extract as much information as possible from her, like the guild was more of a company than a community—which it was.
"Okay... I ate an Eve's apple, some shit happened and—. I felt sick afterwards and I woke up back at the first level, most of my intrinsic skills lost, my understanding of my former class Hayseed Jack gone, and then starting from the ground up, which brings me here."
"Hayseed Jack? Really? That's weird—most people wouldn't even venture with such a class. What were you fighting before, experience-wise?"
Rennia turned stiff. "Treant things, occasional goblin bandits, wild wolves, rats—that kind of thing."
Mara nodded. Her interest sharpened, but she never turned rude, just frowning stiffly. "You're a strange case, but I feel like if you don't share that information, we can't truly know how to help you advance. But that's not why you came here. If you'd prefer to keep the rest private, then everything is permitted."
Rennia turned back to the page. Her cock had shrunk from the tension, she supposed. "I may have a subclass, a weird one."
"Oh, and this subclass is why you're so quiet. You also didn't write it down."
Rennia nodded.
"I believe I have a patron, but I really don't see why I have to disclose it. It just gets in the way anyway."
Mara watched her a second longer, then nodded. "I understand. You'll need to disclose it to the appraiser tomorrow, under veil. I might be there to listen. If what you're saying is true, then it could very easily become a political issue, and I dread the thought, but a religious one."
Rennia waited as she jotted down a long piece of paper, making big encirclements and asterisks at the bottom of the page.
Rennia feared the outcome of such a thing, but at least no word of a "dickgirl" had spread. Now just to avoid the devil-ling when she left. Perhaps take another route.
"Alright, no further questions. I have to consult someone real quick, and then let you know if you pass the first testing phase."
As Mara left, Rennia relaxed. No more probing questions—they'd either let her through or not. She could figure out what to do about her subclass tomorrow. The room suddenly felt huge again. She took to picking at the cake, finishing it. She had to refrain from licking some fallen icing off the plate.
She listened intently as a marching crew of adventurers came through, boots tapping and metal clanging and laughing through the hallway. It felt like a different world to Kibblestadt, where she rarely saw people in the guild itself, as it was a regional hub and not a major one.
Her eye caught the sight of someone. A hooded girl was staring at her, smoking a thin pipe, leaning against a table. Her eyes were obscured by her hair, and her expression was soft. Her stare was direct and unreadable. Rennia tried looking away, pretending she didn't notice, but the girl kept looking and smoking.
Rennia turned away. People needed to learn to mind their own business.
Mara, with her bountiful body, returned a while after, as Rennia sat stiff. "Sorry for making you wait."
"It's no problem."
"An appraiser should come by tomorrow. You'll be given a test to do—some basic displays of your skills. You are a swordsman primarily, yes? And also some mana capability. Some spells if you know one or two."
Well that sucks. Ishmere hadn't gotten to teaching her magic yet.
"Oh, the appointment can't be made for a later date?"
"Unfortunately not, and I'd hate to sound like a haggling thief, but we need a sum of ten gold to finalize arrangements."
Did that mean if she didn't pay she didn't need to come tomorrow? But they could also get fed up with her. She dug into her pouch, a little flustered, a little shaky.
Something strange happened when the red-headed woman took the money from her. Mara had taken notice of something. "Hey. You're trembling—I've noticed since you entered," Mara stated. "I'm a former [Skald], I have a special skill. I can calm you if you want me to?"
"Oh no, I—"
Mara touched her hands, and she felt something slip in. Mara stiffened. It felt like something was prodding around inside her. Mara's fingers closed, holding her hands tight around hers, and her expression shifted—her brow furrowed, her head tilted, like she was rummaging deep.
She looked puzzled, caught off guard.
"What?" she murmured to herself, eyes flicking all over Rennia. "You're much more than I can handle. You're quite strong in there, and your soul's quite big."
Rennia's heart beat, but her nerves eased. Whatever she had done, it wasn't without consequences. But the fear, the anxiety—it did stop.
"Are you okay?"
Rennia tried to pull back. Mara let her go—but slowly, reluctantly. Her thumb may have lingered just a second too long. "Sorry," Mara added. "It's not always that clear. Usually people feel like static. But you..."
She didn't finish.
"Never mind. Just nerves, probably. Do you feel a little better?"
"I do." She didn't, and she didn't. Rennia was at ease, but she was not okay. Her cheeks were blood red, and her dick was rock hard under her gear, and her head was sparkling. Mara's touch, her scent, her closeness, and the fact that her breasts were so close—it was too much, even with whatever calming spell she'd cast. Her heart settled, but her blood was surging. She sat quiet and stiff, trying to will herself soft. She knew her cock grew by arousal—that meant this needed to stop.
"You'll be okay. Just take one step at a time. Tomorrow, eat to your heart's content before you come here, and if you struggle, I'll make you a hearty meal. Just don't stress so much."
Easy to say. Different in practice. Tomorrow she might not wake up.
Mara left shortly after, the woman herself perturbed. Rennia didn't leave until she disappeared from sight, her eyes locked onto her ass the whole time. She looked back to where her attention had been—the girl with the hood was gone. The pipe lay on the table.
Rennia finished the juice—cold, just cold enough to cool the heat inside her. Sweet, sweet like home. But her heart still pounded. Her cock hadn't softened at all. Tomorrow could wait—she needed to get back to Ishmere.
