Lewd Ascent - A Futa LitRPG Ch. 016-025

"Curious," she said, lowering the tool back to the pouch and pouring the powder back in, then deftly tying the strings back closed. "I've never seen anything like it. How much do you want for it?"

"Oh," Zoey said. "It's not for sale. We were hoping you could make something for us."

"Perhaps," Sabina said. "I would need to consult the Association. While I've never handled," she glanced sideways at the pouch, "this 'coruscant flameroot', that doesn't mean there's no information available. But turning a rare ingredient into a functional potion is a complicated process. It varies for each alchemist. No two paths are the same. Even if others have succeeded, my own is no guarantee."

"Or the other way around."

"Indeed," she said without arrogance.

No two paths are the same. Rosalie had said something like that, before, though not quite in the same context. "But you'd be willing to try?"

"More than willing," Sabina said. "Working with strange reagents ... truth told, I'd pay you for the opportunity. Let's meet in the middle. Consider it free of charge."

Zoey could see why Sabina was having financial difficulties, despite having a solid reputation for competency. "No, that's fine, we'll pay. Because, uh, I have something else to ask, in exchange for us not shopping around."

"I'm listening."

"I'm looking for someone to show me the ropes. Not an apprenticeship or anything, but kind of—acquaint me? Give me the big picture."

Sabina shot her a curious look; she'd been inspecting the two ingredients on the counter. "You have a Rune of Alchemy?"

"I do. I haven't ever used it."

Sabina raised her eyebrows. "And why not?"

"I don't know. I have ... severe memory loss, and can't remember much of anything. But it's first advancement, and I don't know anything about alchemy. I'd like to learn."

"How curious." She shrugged. "But I've no time to be playing as a teacher. My work needs me. Try someone else."

"I'd be willing to make this a recurring relationship," Zoey said, nodding at the pouches, wanting to push the point; she didn't know why, but she wanted Sabina as her teacher. Who am I kidding? I know why. Look at those legs. Probably not how she should be making her decision. But there were practical ones too: she was competent, and they had something to bribe her with. "Any odd reagents, we'll bring to you. And I won't be in your hair much. Wayfaring's taking the front seat."

"Hardly a binary," Sabina said. "There's plenty of alchemists who adventure."

"There are?"

"Perhaps to less success, since their paths adjust to minimal equipment and field conditions, but yes."

"Oh," Zoey said. "Well, either way. It seems like it could be a mutually beneficial arrangement. And if it doesn't work out, you can drop me."

Sabina scrutinized her, a long middle-finger tapping against the counter. "I suppose we could test the waters," Sabina said. "But I'm no instructor. My guidance will be poor. You would be better served finding someone competent in training others." She shrugged, as if she didn't care if Zoey made a poor decision—she was just informing her it would be one. "And I'll emphasize that if you fail to bring in interesting reagents from your adventures, this arrangement will no longer hold appeal."

Zoey didn't think that'd be happening. She and Rosalie had definitely not seen the last of strange shards, and stranger loot. "Perfect. Let's talk details?"

"As long as we make it quick," Sabina said, eying the ingredients on the counter. "I'd like to start experimenting."

###

The last, but far from least, destination of the day was back to where the guide had first dropped her and Rosalie off: the Last of the Forest's guildhall.

The architecture of Treyhull had been uniformly breathtaking, but the guildhall, more than most: it had the look of a structure that the city had been built around, that when this sprawling metropolis had first started to be draped around the titanic trees, the guildhall had been at its heart. The seed of the city.

Rosalie took the lead. Zoey trailed behind, admiring the insides of the building that went up, and up, and up—hundreds, or what felt like thousands of feet. The guildhall was carved into one of the enormous tree-trunks, and bridges spanned here and there as Zoey craned her neck up, creating a patchwork of brown strings that slowly occluded her sight to the top.

She bumped into someone, who eyed her in annoyance, waving away her apologies but clearly irritated.

"Shit," Zoey laughed to Rosalie. "I'm coming off as a tourist."

Rosalie, though she hadn't been to Treyhull, wasn't nearly as interested in taking in the sights. Strictly here for business. Who would've guessed? Rosalie really could benefit in taking a load off, in living life in the slow lane for once. Zoey'd try to coax that out of her, eventually.

The receptionist was a mousy woman with freckles. And she meant mousy in a literal sense, like usual; the half-human hybrids were more common than humans in Treyhull. She had big mouse ears on the top of her head, and a generally twitchy, but friendly, demeanor.

"Hi! Welcome to the Last of the Forest's guildhall. My name is Leia. How can I help you?"

"We'd like to register," Rosalie said. "Temporary. We're only passing through. Two weeks, I expect, but more or less is possible."

Zoey had asked Rosalie for clarification on how this would work—their 'setting up' in Treyhull. Before Zoey, Rosalie had gone to whatever city was nearest the shard she'd just exited. But since they were making connections, now—with need for consistent item identifiers and an alchemist teacher for Zoey—they'd take the longer trips back to this specific metropolis, rather than whatever was closest. The goal would be to adventure realms nearby to the one that hosted Treyhull, as to avoid being spat out far away. Still, they'd likely be shunted a fair distance each time; it would be a bit of a trip back.

"No problem," Leia said cheerfully, drawing out two forms from underneath her desk. "I'll get you squared away in no time."

Rosalie waited patiently.

"Name?"

"Rosalie Soliz."

Huh—Zoey had never gotten Rosalie's surname.

"Role?"

"Lancer."

"Advancement?"

"Second."

The questions continued, Rosalie answering instantly, the mouse-girl writing as fast as she could. Finally, Leia's attention turned to Zoey, pulling over the second paper. "Name?"

"Zoey Vickery," Rosalie answered for her.

Leia blinked, and so did Zoey. Leia wavered between looking at Zoey and Rosalie. Zoey gestured to Rosalie, so she committed to her.

"Role?"

"Aegis."

"Advancement?"

"First."

And so on.

When they'd been passed two badges—Rosalie's was purple, with a 'II' written on it, and Zoey's yellow, with a 'I'—Zoey said, "You gave fake names."

"Of course I did."

"I get for you, but why me?"

"Why not? It's only good practice."

Zoey gave her an odd look, but accepted the explanation. "I never learned what 'lancer' meant. And mine, 'aegis'."

"There's seven," Rosalie said. "Guardian, striker, and booster are the purist roles. Defense, attack, support."

"And the four others are mixed," Zoey guessed.

"Lancer is attack and defense. Aegis, attack and support. Pillar, support and defense. And finally, verse, which is all three—or classes that fall outside the paradigm."

When Zoey had first been whisked off through worlds, Ephy had used the word 'class', and she'd heard it from Rosalie a few times, too. Zoey was a 'Bonder'. "What are classes?" Zoey was growing less uncomfortable with asking odd questions. She had to, honestly. Couldn't stay in the dark forever. And Rosalie never seemed to mind, even if she gave Zoey perplexed looks.

"They describe your runes, and the specific path they're following."

"So why not use class names, instead of this?"

Rosalie scoffed. "And memorize the hundreds, or thousands, that exist? Roles are simpler. If a party wants to get granular in finding an ideal composition, they may—but for most, roles serve fine to put together a functional group."

That made sense. "And what's your class, then?"

Rosalie stopped walking, and Zoey stumbled a step. Rosalie stared at her, brow furrowed, as if trying to come to a decision.

Zoey blinked. "You don't have to tell me. I was just curious."

"I ... shouldn't," Rosalie finally said. "It's a personal question. I'd rather not."

Even if Zoey had said it was fine she didn't, Zoey felt the tiniest bit stung she hadn't been trusted with the information. She couldn't possibly think Zoey would tell someone else, could she? Or was it because her class would reveal something? But what?

She was sure Rosalie had her reasons.

They continued forward.

"Where are we headed?" Zoey asked.

"To the LFG board," Rosalie said. "Lancer and aegis, as a duo? No. If we're forming a party, we'll do it right."

2.08 LFG

"That's, uh," Zoey said. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Your class, you mean."

"Yeah. My class."

"Don't tell me you're uncomfortable with the idea of 'bonding' another girl." Seeing Rosalie, so typically stoic, air-quote and sneer the phrase was a bit funny. "You've fucked—how many girls in the past twenty four hours? Me, the slime creature, the attendant, and I saw you eying both Fe and Sabina. You aren't remotely subtle. I'm surprised Anja was safe. This is where you draw the line?"

"No," Zoey said, ignoring Rosalie's accusations, "I meant, are we even sure I can bond to more than one person? Or would it break yours?"

"Only one way to find out, isn't there?"

"I guess. I'm just—" she cut herself off.

"Say it."

"Never mind."

"Say it, Zoey."

Zoey waved her hand, starting to blush. "It's nothing."

Rosalie stopped walking and crossed her arms. "If we're going to be party-members, you will voice your opinion on team decisions."

"I was looking forward to it just being us, okay?" Zoey flushed. "I thought we were going to, you know. Have some time together. Just us. For a bit longer."

Whatever Rosalie had expected, it hadn't been that. She looked like a deer caught in headlights, which was a distinctly not-Rosalie reaction.

"Like I said, it was stupid."

"This—this isn't a vacation, Zoey."

"I know."

"A functional party fills every role. We'll get more done. And it'll diffuse your lack of experience."

"It makes sense. I know."

Rosalie opened her mouth a few times, as if to push the point, but Zoey had agreed with everything.

She huffed and turned back forward.

"We'll ... we'll have 'us' time between shards," Rosalie mumbled, almost quiet enough Zoey couldn't hear.

"What?"

Rosalie stalked forward. "We'll be looking for a guardian, striker, or another lancer. At this advancement, even a half-role support is enough—so you have that filled. I can fill either offense or defense, so I want a teammate specialized in one or the other. I'll lean heavier into whatever they don't."

"Is that the standard strategy?"

"There is no standard strategy. Team composition isn't a solved science. Opinions vary. I told you mine."

"Well, yours is the best out there, I'm assuming."

"Mmm," Rosalie said, not outright agreeing, but both of them knowing it was true. "Still. It might take some searching to find a good fit."

"Just one more? So three of us?"

"For now."

"How big do parties get?"

"Five is ideal."

"For all advancements? Now, or later on?"

"All advancements. But it's a question with a lot of variability. I'm already generalizing. I was doing fine solo. Some classes can. Some classes—boosters, the obvious one—can't. Five members provides a balance between sharing loot and tackling shards smaller parties can't."

"So why are we going with three?"

"Because five is a headache," Rosalie said flatly. "Even two is a headache, so far."

"Hey."

"Are you denying it?"

Zoey had been an annoyance for Rosalie, all things considered. "It's still not very nice."

"I'm not very nice."

"Bullshit," Zoey said. "You're a sweetheart."

"And you have an addled brain, if you think that."

"You've got a hard exterior, but gooey insides. You didn't have me fooled for a second."

Rosalie pointedly ignored her, but the blush on her cheeks betrayed how Zoey's words had worked.

They arrived at the LFG board.

Zoey's eyes scanned the hundreds of listings crammed on the expansive pinboard. The papers tacked in were short, functional, and informative. Standardized. Name, advancement, role, availability, and finally, a short description where they discussed what they were looking for, and any other relevant information.

Rosalie pulled out a notebook and started writing. "Girls only, right?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah." Zoey hesitated before her next words, knowing they were stupid. But she couldn't help herself. "This is weird. It feels like we're looking for someone to have a threesome with."

Rosalie went stiff. A disbelieving expression turned, slowly, to face her.

"Doesn't it?" Zoey asked.

"Unbelievable," Rosalie said.

###

Rosalie worked fast. She collected a smattering of potential candidates and got to work tracking them down. The guildhall receptionist helped point them in the right direction.

They barely got more than a few sentences into Rosalie's first interrogation before Rosalie was shaking her head and stalking away. Zoey shot an apologetic look to a bewildered flame-woman.

"What the hell was that?" Zoey asked, jogging to catch up.

"Inadequate."

"Why?"

"Second advancement in three months? No."

"That's bad?"

"It's average."

"... and average is bad."

"Average is horrendous."

"We can be that picky?"

"I'll resort to a duo before we settle for a dead-end."

Truth told, Zoey was feeling like the dead-end, right about now. She'd been pretty useless in the first shard, and without a chance to have practiced, she'd be useless going into the second. At least she had the 'identify weakness' skill from her second advancement on her Rune of Sensuality, so she could be marginally more helpful, but still. Her partner was quite clearly the creme de la crop, and Zoey was ...

Zoey.

Promising only because she'd had an amazing class thrust onto her. Didn't feel great.

"Still. I don't think you should've been so rude."

"We're on a schedule. I'm not going to conduct a full interview when I know my answer."

"You could've told her why."

"That would have been rude. Better she think me odd, than for me to berate her for being average."

That was ... actually a fair point. Rosalie was being considerate—in a roundabout way—by stalking away and not listing out a person's deficiencies. And not even deficiencies, but simply how they failed to meet Rosalie's excruciating expectations.

"Besides," Rosalie said, "I'm not sure having sex with a solar is something you want to be doing on the regular."

She tucked away the race name for the floating flame-people. "I mean," Zoey said. "I'll try anything once. Who knows? Maybe it'd be fun."

"They don't even have sex organs," Rosalie said. "And yes, they're as hot as they look." She shook her head and stalked forward. "But knowing you, you would enjoy it."

"Nothing a bit of burn cream couldn't fix," Zoey grinned.

The second, third, and fourth interviews—interrogations—went in a similar manner. It wasn't until the fifth that Rosalie's questions extended past opening pleasantries.

"And you?" the fox-woman—Delta—returned.

"Four weeks."

Delta whistled. "Damn, blondie. You had your nose to the grindstone. That's fast."

Zoey stayed quiet, absorbing the easy lie that had slipped from Rosalie's lips. She had told Zoey it had taken her two weeks to hit second advancement—or less, since two weeks was simply how long she'd been in the Fractures. And four was fast? Enough to draw out an impressed whistle from someone Rosalie herself saw as a potential teammate?

Her partner was more competent than she'd thought. Competent enough she needed to lie to avoid drawing attention. Well-known enough she gave fake names to guildhall receptionists.

Who was she, really?

Not that if she was some famous figure, Zoey would know the name. Alien world, and all.

"I set a quick pace," Rosalie said. "You would be expected to match it."

"Sure," Delta returned easily. "Not tryna toil in obscurity, forever. I'm taking it you're shooting for the big leagues?"

"I have no intention of living a safe and easy life."

Delta laughed. "Right. So, shards. What advancement? Third? How many you putting together?"

"Second will be fine," Rosalie said. "We're staying small. You'll be our third, and last."

"And who's this?"

"Zoey," Zoey offered. She'd been trailing behind Rosalie for the better part of an hour, and she'd prefer to regain some agency, because as things stood, it felt a bit like she was a lost child following meekly behind Rosalie. She'd said maybe a dozen words to their potentials. "It's nice to meet you."

They had found the fox-woman at the bar of the guildhall, working her way through a tankard of what Zoey assumed to be alcohol. She didn't seem drunk, or even flushed. She was leaned back on the chair far enough it was supported only on two legs, precariously balanced. Her fingers tapped the table as she took Zoey in.

The up-and-down of Zoey's body was slightly less than chaste. A grin split her lips. "Zoey. That's a cute name."

Was she being hit on? "Thanks. I like yours, too."

Delta opened her mouth to continue the dialogue, but Rosalie cleared her throat, pointedly dragging her attention back.

Zoey paid closer attention to the fox-woman's curves, the orange-and-white ears sprouting from her head. They were ... well, they did something for Zoey. She was coming around on this whole, half-animal thing. It was pretty cute.

Delta was dressed not casually, but how Zoey assumed she'd be venturing into dungeons: in full leather armor, her bow set across the table. Why she didn't store the weapon in her inventory ... Zoey couldn't say for sure. Advertising? She was 'looking for group'.

But the fact her curves showed through even a full set of (slightly mismatched) leather armor promised a body that Zoey would be greatly appreciative of.

"You're a striker," Rosalie said. "How strictly?"

"I hurt things. Not much else."

Rosalie nodded. "Good. I can fill defense. How much attention would you need?"

"None. I can run solo, need be."

Rosalie kept nodding. The answers were what she wanted to hear. "My partner's class is strange," Rosalie said. "You'll need to have an open mind."

Which gave Delta pause. "Excuse me?"

"The prerequisites for her supporting skills are odd. You may have to perform some ... slightly uncomfortable actions to facilitate it."

Zoey winced. The clinical nature Rosalie described her Bond skill was bringing a heat to Zoey's face, though, how else were they supposed to handle the situation?

" ... what?" came the reasonable response.

"What's the exact wording, again?" Rosalie asked Zoey. Zoey wasn't handling things much better. Pink tinted her cheeks.

Zoey saved her from having to go further. It was Zoey's cross to bear, so to say. And she could deal with the awkwardness better than Rosalie. Not without a blush, but still better.

"We'll have to be intimate," Zoey said. She didn't broach the whole, 'release seed onto or inside' part, because the exact wording was so much worse than being roundabout; it could be left implied.

Delta stared at her. "By intimate, you mean ..."

"Sex," Zoey said. "Or not sex, but, uh. Intimacy. More than kissing." Okay, maybe she was just as awkward about this.

"Right," Delta said.