Warm Elixirs Ch. 01

Chapter 1: Broke

Tags: Fingering.

"Feeeennel," a soft, high-pitched voice whined, partially drowned out by the fact that she was pressing her head on the store's counter.

"Yes, Eryn?" their deeper, calm voice replied.

"I'm bored! It's midday already! I can see dust gathering on my potions... I haven't brewed anything in days! No sales, really?!"

"I... I know, dear, but it doesn't make sense for us to waste ingredients or materials."

"Ugh, I know, I know! It's just frustrating. Stupid dungeon... Stupid gods..."

"Hey, they'll hear that."

"And do what? Curse me? We are already cursed!"

"Come on," the brown-skinned clayling approached their partner; they extended their arm over her shoulder and brought her in for a hug. The hellborn responded in kind; she pushed her forehead into their chest (careful not to poke them with her horns) and wrapped her pointed tail on their wrist.

"You don't mean the curse thing, do you?" they asked kindly.

"I guess not, I'm just angry. I mean, we have more ingredients than food! Stupid wizards from the capital come, use their gold to mass-produce items and take all of our business! It's not fair..."

"No, it isn't," they held her closer.

As much as Fennel wanted to act calm, Eryn was right. After the dungeon's formation, the pair had expected their business to grow, to boom, even. It was the main reason behind the purchase of an arcane forge. And yet, the appearance of titans of industry from bigger cities had killed al their possible momentum. They had built new shops closer to the dungeon, something the pair could not hope to do, as the store's second floor was their home, and ensured adventurers would not look for a minor store on the edge of town. Fennel felt guilty about this; they had been the one who insisted they set up near the town's gates, adventurers would find them more easily, they had thought. Of course, curse their luck, the dungeon appeared on the other side of town. The mayor had even walled off the old entrance so that people could reach the dungeon faster! So, they completely understood their wife's position.

"I don't want to close the store; we worked so hard for it! Even if the name is still a bit dumb..."

"What do you mean? 'Warm Elixirs' is a great one! One of my most creative, I must humbly admit."

Eryn tilted her head up at them and glared at them, but she couldn't contain the smile that came later.

"Dummy."

Their moment was swiftly interrupted by the store's bell ringing. The pair separated, and Fennel went to the back, saying that they needed to check the inventory. Eryn knew better; they just sucked with customers.

"Hello!" Eryn began to say before the door had fully opened, "Welcome to- Ah. It's you. How are you, Geb?"

Geb was a "regular" of Warm Elixirs. Eryn could not bring herself to dislike the grizzly-looking dwarf; he had been one of the main reasons that they had still managed to float by. However, he was no adventurer. He was a fisherman. He had had marital problems due to how much time he spent out of the home, especially since the town's population had grown and there were more mouths that wanted to buy food. He always arrived tired and did not pay attention to his wife. Until someone recommended that he visit Eryn and see what she could do for him.

"Hello, Eryn, good afternoon!"

"Don't remind me..."

"What, slow day?"

"What do you think?"

"Oof, my condolences," he said pityingly. "Anyway, is my... Order ready?" he added, not bothering to come up with a segue for the conversation to continue.

"Yeah, give me a moment."

The shop's counter was a simple wooden one. It had a glass panel in front so customers could be awed by the various healing potions, defensive tonics, and enhancements for battle. When Eryn mentioned her items gathering dust, these were the ones she had been referring to. Behind the counter, there was a small sliding door. A small lockbox, for safekeeping. From inside the small space, she produced six bottles of a light blue liquid.

"Here you go," she extended them to the dwarf.

He snatched them out of her hands excitedly.

"Oh, you have no idea how badly I needed this. Junior is going to stay with a friend of his. My wife and I are going to have the house all to ourselves. Who knows," by this point, Geb was just talking out loud and not to Eryn, "we may need to dust the old crib-"

"Ah! That's enough! I need not hear your planned exploits, thank you!"

The dwarf, despite the heavy black beard, blushed.

"Sorry, my imagination got the better of me," he laughed.

"Same price as always?"

"Yeah, you know it," she unplugged her ears to respond.

He slid a small pouch with gold coins inside. Eryn counted them carefully. It was the sixty they had agreed on and, five more? She raised her eyebrows, but Geb was ahead of her.

"A bit extra, since you've been discreet and have kindly kept making these potions for me."

"Oh, Geb, it is much appreciated," it came from the heart. Any extra gold was good gold.

The dwarf thanked Eryn once again for his "energizing potions", as he jokingly called them, and prepared to leave. However, he stopped at the door and turned to her.

"You know? You're great at these... types of potions too; you could try changing your business in this direction. Hells, you won't even need to change the sign!" His booming laugh was all she could focus on, even after he closed the door.

Oh, Eryn's purple skin turned darker at the thought, part embarrassment and part frustration. Yes, of course she had thought of it before. Ingredients for these virility potions were not that expensive, much less than those for healing ones; that was for sure. And she could sell them for a decent profit. But she had not studied so long just to make... sex tonics! She wanted to help adventurers! It wasn't like she had dreamt of being one at some point...

"Shut up," she poked her forehead, directing the command at her brain. She would push the idea aside. She hadn't even discussed it with Fennel. Actually, it was so stupid she would not even bother doing so. Yep, the store would be just fine with products for adventuring teams. They just had to endure for a bit.

......

No one else came for the rest of the day.

Even more frustrated and annoyed than in the morning, Eryn stormed up the stairs and into her and Fennel's room.

She changed into a simple black dress; she put on a pair of comfortable brown boots and finally let her long plum-colored hair go wild, no longer held back by a tight bun. She went down, put a couple of the golden coins into her pocket, and called for her partner.

"Yes?" Fennel responded.

"I'm going to meet Aillil. I need a drink... Want me to bring you something?"

"No, just don't drink too much. Remember she's questing tomorrow, after all."

"Stupid dungeon. Won't even let me get drunk enough with my friend. Fine! See you in a bit," with that, Eryn exited her home, flipped the store's sign from "Open" to "Closed", and began walking to the town square.

The Half-Pint Halfling was one of the most famous taverns in town. Contrary to equipment stores, those who dealt with food did not have any issue with competition. "The sun shines for all of us," as Berhta, the heavily tatted halfling who owned the tavern, had told her before.

Yeah, unless the gods insist on building a roof on top of you, Eryn had thought bitterly in response.

As it happened most days, the place was packed. The hellborn sighed and approached it nonetheless, ready to wait for an hour just to go in.

"Eryn, over here!"

The horned woman turned to the voice; a woman was standing up from a table, waving her hand. It was the friend she was there to meet, Ailill.

Ailill was a blonde elf, daughter of a low noble who, after finding she had arcane talents, enrolled her in an academy where she became a mage. She had not become a court one; she had instead found that her aptitude for combat magic was more useful in an adventuring party. She and her friends now made regular treks into the dungeon, trying to get as deep as possible and mapping all that they could.

Eryn could never fully accept that Ailill spent most of her days fighting. Her pristine white skin, her always silky blonde hair, her carefully trimmed nails, and those incredible blue eyes! She was always what came into Eryn's mind when someone mentioned nobility. To put it simply, she was beautiful. Eryn knew she herself was nothing to scoff at, but her friend was on another level. She always looked perfect.

Pushing against some other patrons, who were not too excited about seeing someone enter before them, Eryn made her way into the tavern.

"Thank the gods you're here already. I thought I would have to wait forever," Eryn exclaimed as she sat opposite to Ailill.

"It was calmer when I got here, but you know how it is, people leave work and need a drink-"

"Immediately. Yep, that is exactly how I felt today."

"Rough day at the shop?"

"Well, you're one of my only regulars, and you didn't come to buy anything."

"Hey! That's unfair! I slept on the freezing stone of the dungeon yesterday, just came out today!"

Eryn laughed, "I know, I know, I'm just teasing."

Ailill's cheeks puffed up in response.

"But yeah, only had one client today. He came to buy from... Our other stock."

"Ah, the virility-"

"Yep! Yep! We know what they are, no need to say it out loud."

"I never thought you'd be such a prude, Eryn," the elf teased back.

"Touché. It's just... If I act like they are not my main source of income, I can still feel like a successful business owner with my dreams still intact."

"I get it, we all have our wishes and dreams and then, life happens, but hey, we're both too sober to keep having this conversation. Let's come back after a couple of beers? Ale?"

"Ooooh, ale sounds like a fun way to spice it up."

"Perfect!"

As they took their drinks, the pair discussed the source of their income and suffering: the dungeon. Ailill mentioned just how marvelous they were as structures, perfectly designed to keep all of its denizens inside, but let go just enough to bring attention to the, in the case of this one, tower. She also went into how this one was of the underground variety, it dug into the earth for what seemed to be impossible distances. Around 20 of the floors had been explored, and there was no knowing how deep it could go, but the elf estimated half of the structure had been explored. Eryn always found herself troubled listening to Ailill's stories; on the one hand, hearing of that fantastic and impossible world let her soar and dream, on the other, it was a constant reminder not only of what was making her life difficult at the moment, but of the dream she'd never achieve.

Eryn had wished so hard to become an adventurer, but she was terrible with weapons. Then, she tried magic, but she was never able to go past basic incantations. She finally found her talent for potion making, but that meant she would always stay back, in town. The careful measuring and specific methods for creating her chemicals were antithetical to the life of the adventurer. Even so, she lived a bit of those dreams through Ailill.

"But enough about the dungeon," Ailill said, a bit tipsy, "why are you so ashamed of your virility potions? You saved a marriage with those!"

"Shhh!" Eryn responded, a bit drunk as well, "I know! It's just... I don't like thinking of all my work being used for something that I do not care about, you know? I want to help adventurers, people like you, to save the world! To become heroes! I want to be at least in the footnotes of history!"

"And you think sex won't help heroes?"

"Not as much as healing potions, no."

"Shows what you know..."

"What do you mean by that?!"

Ailill sobered up a bit when Eryn shot daggers at her.

"Well, let's put it this way: adventurers are extremely pent up. Do you have any idea how many times a day you feel like you're going to die?"

"No. I hadn't thought of that..."

"And on top of that," Ailill got very passionate about this point, "you work with beautiful people who save your life constantly. So, you're a bundle of stress with people you form close connections to, and then you just want one of them to kiss you and-"

Eryn raised her eyebrows in surprise at Ailill's sincerity.

"It- It- It's a hypothetical, I mean!"

"Sure, sure, of course," the hellborn responded, stifling her laughter.

"What I mean is that you can actually help adventurers with potions to help them... 'Get it on', you know? Believe me, from previous parties I've been in, at least something to drown the noise would be helpful."

Eryn could not believe what her friend was telling her. Yeah, sex was healthy, duh. However, were adventurers that in need of "equipment" related to it? Couldn't they just... Go into a tent and do their business? Well, Ailill had said that the stress they were under was extremely intense. Yeah, that pressure would mean her usual potions would not work on them. So, as a joke, she said the following:

"Please, adventurers' bodies are so used to wounds, poisons, and an abuse of healing potions that no matter what I make, I would need monster toxins to even make a dent in their organism. And, by that point, if I'm going fully illegal, I might as well have Fennel make toys based on the horrors of this world!"

Ailill blushed so intensely that Eryn could feel the heat radiating off of her as she tried to hide in her ale.

Eryn pressed her face into her hands.

"I beg of you. Please. Do not tell me there is a market for that."

"I won't," Ailill began.

"Thank the go-"

Ailill leaned forward and whispered into Eryn's ear.

"It is an extremely lucrative market."

"You. Are. Kidding."

"Not in the slightest. Normal people may not be that interested in monsters, but you know how it is: both the church and monarchy banned most research on them, so there is an allure of the forbidden. And, for adventurers, you see so many things: the traps, the way not all monsters attack you physically, but mentally as well. Believe me, most adventurers become freaks."

"You included?"

"I am not answering that, no matter how much ale I get in me..." the redness of her ears betrayed Ailill.

"Oh, my gods, you are!"

"Shut up! I'm not! It is professional and arcane fascination!"

Eryn exploded in laughter.

"It is intellectual curiosity, a result of my training, okay?! Eryn?! Eryn! Eryn, stop laughing!"

.....

By the time Eryn arrived, Fennel was already asleep. They were snoring slightly, holding onto a pillow. Eryn planted a kiss on their forehead before tossing her dress aside and getting into bed.

There is no way we could actually sell that... was Eryn's first thought.

Ailill was right. The Church of the Twelve, the major religion in Ruval, and the monarchy itself had banned research into monsters; they justified it by saying that the Kins should not dig far too deep into that which was the realm of the divine. Eryn thought it was more so that people depended on the Guilds and their knowledge of monsters.

And yet... She could disguise her sudden curiosity and suspiciously accurate products. Fennel could say that it was based on their imagination or the few bestiaries that existed; she worked with some monster parts for potions too.

No! Of course not! Ailill cannot be serious... Were adventurers really that fascinated with monsters? There was no way. Please, they spent their days killing them, after all! It must've only been Ailill being a weirdo, a result of her being an obsessed academic, for sure. But Eryn would be lying if she didn't admit she had imagined monsters like that at some time in her life. There were stories of those that invaded your mind or needed you to spawn more of their own. And that the dungeon preyed on people in more ways than just deadly...

Without noticing, Eryn's hand had slid down her torso and had found itself positioned just in front of her entrance.

I mean, we've all read a book with a hot lycanthrope, right? Those big muscles, that animalistic hunger, the possibility of having them inside of you for hours as the knot...

She began to rub her labia, smooth massages that hinted at her true hunger.

Or dryads! Not only is their beauty said to be legendary, but the spores are said to make you pliable, for their stems to find their way inside of you. They need seedbeds, after all, don't they?

A curious finger went inside; a soft moan was the natural response. Then, a second one. The alternating pace scratched her physical itch; her imagination already going wild as she pushed the hood of her clit with her thumb.

Yes, and the stare of a succubus, said to make you their eternal servant. You would be nothing more than a pleasure doll for them, a toy to feed as they own your body, exploring it to their desire. Masters of your pleasure and pain.

Eryn's fingers delved deeper into her vagina; more and more scenarios began to play in her head as she vigorously caressed her clit.

Or an ancient dwarven trap capturing you and trying to break you in the name of masters that are no longer there. Or falling for a mimic's trap, being locked inside a tentacled chest until someone else opens it. Or even a mermaid, turning your mind into putty with only her words!

"Oh, gods!" Eryn bit her lip to hold back her moans as climax hit her.

Amidst pants, recovering, she said to herself:

"Fine! I get it, divine sign and all that! Fennel, Fennel!!!"

Eryn shook her poor partner awake.

With a manic energy, and without even cleaning herself up, she began to rant about what had happened in the tavern; at the revelation of what they could do to save their store, she was worried about the legality of it all, which was sure to fall into the nebulous or negative side, how they would have to get ingredients and needed a party to help them, how Fennel could try and make items from the information on monsters they got.

Yes, it was all coming together.

Fennel, who, despite having been bombarded by the information, was used to their wife's intense nature and listened intently. They shared her worry about getting in trouble but did add that people tend to be discreet when it is something minor, especially if it benefits them. They agreed that many interesting inventions could come from this and, despite their original plans to help future heroes, this could help them find their footing and be a stepping stone for a more stable future. They were scared of how little information they had, however. Sure, Eryn and them had a certain closeness to this knowledge than most folk, but would it be enough?

"So, wanna take the leap of faith?" she asked.

"We cannot keep surviving on just a couple of clients forever. It is risky, but I would be lying if it didn't get my imagination going. And... We could keep a few things just to ourselves," they winked at Eryn, who felt her heart skip a beat.

"Oh, you smooth talker. Fine, let's give this a shot. It doesn't have to be permanent. We can quit at any time and, as long as the Church doesn't hear about us, we have nothing to worry about."

"I think they might be more worried about actual calamity-level threats, don't you think?"

"Yeah! Exactly!"

Eryn was nervous. Terrified even. Similarly, she couldn't fully push her frustration down; she wasn't meant to use her abilities for this, was the thought that repeated in her head. However, she also understood that certain compromises had to be made if her goal, her deep desire to affect history, to matter, was to be achieved.

"Okay, then. We have a plan on our hands. I'll talk to Ailill about this tomorrow. I trust she can help us find an adventuring party that won't go babbling and that may be willing to experiment for us. I guess there is only one thing left to ask for now."

"Which is?"

"What monster do we try first?"

"Hmmm..."

Frustratingly, Eryn could remember her old school notes were stashed somewhere in the house, but she'd have to search for them tomorrow.

.....

Eryn could barely sleep for the rest of the night.

She spent all her time thinking about all that could go wrong. She was terrified of who could go and babble to the authorities, which would mean Fennel and she would end up locked who-knew-where. Similarly, she felt safe in the knowledge of monsters than she and Fennel had, but what if it was wrong? What if her stupid new venture got someone killed? What if that someone was Fennel? On the other hand, she was desperate. With her stock of ingredients, she was sure she could whip up something interesting; just based on Geb's constant purchases, it could help them back on their feet. No more stress of when food would run out, of when they would be forced to sell the store.

And yet, she was meant to go and ask some random people to go and help them "have fun" with monsters, maybe even ask them to do it? Oh, she wanted to die. This was such a stupid idea.

The hellborn really wanted to poke Fennel's cheek. It made her furious that her spouse could be softly snoring next to her. They had juggled some ideas of what monster or creature to suggest to the people they would hire, something that didn't make them seem either like hardcore perverts or insane people. Well, more than the nature of the base job would. However, they could not agree on any. The conclusion they did come to was that no matter what they chose, Eryn and Fennel would be the ones to try it out first. Yes, they were not adventurers and had basically no combat experience, but she wouldn't be able to live with herself if she asked someone to do something she was too scared to.

Finally, before the sun came out, Eryn grew tired of turning her head on the pillow, which had now grown disgustingly warm and slightly sweaty. So, she stood up and decided to pace around the room.

"Think of base level monsters... Something that is not too dangerous..."

Due to how magic worked, the furthest one was from the top or bottom floor of the dungeon, depending on if it was an underground structure or a towering one, the weaker monsters were. However, that did not mean they were to be trifled with. Even a small slime could easily digest a person. Eryn walked through the upper floor of the store, their home. Behind their dining table, there was a small bookshelf; she began to check there first.

"Of course, when I actually need them, I can't find them. Hope I didn't throw them out thinking, 'When would I need my old notes again?'," she bitterly said to herself.

A couple of hours later, inside a closet and standing on a stool placed on top of a chair, Eryn could finally grab onto a small chest that had been eluding her grasp.

"Finally!" she exclaimed, praying that her old notebook would actually be here. She had spent far too long searching for it not to.

However, with a thunk, Eryn suddenly felt herself having to put a lot of strength into her arms. Due to her excitement, the chair had slid off of the stool. Now, she was hanging from nothing. She couldn't let go of the chest, of course. Tt would not beat her. However, she did feel herself slipping.

"FENNEL!" she screamed.

Eryn's partner, awake for a second time, ran to her.

They couldn't hold back their laughter at the hellborn's compromised position. She did look like a cat stuck in a tree, after all. After being screamed at, they approached to get her down.

Holding onto her waist, they managed to get her unstuck, but she did not let her trophy go.

"What were you doing?" Fennel said, plopping onto a chair.

"Well, I couldn't sleep."

"I had guessed."

"Shush. Anyway, I was thinking. We are going to need to approach a humanoid, not just a monster."

Fennel raised their eyebrow, intrigued by her logic.

"This is the first time, right? So, we need to ensure that we can dialogue, negotiate. If you try it with just any living plant or slime, they are certainly not going to care about your limits. So, talking is going to be a vital element."

"I get the idea," they replied, "I still do not understand why you were stuck on the shelf."

Eryn blushed.

"BECAUSE- E-hem, because I remembered something," she opened the chest and pulled a worn notebook from it, "you see, there are some Kin that have delved deeper into pleasure than others. Similarly, they tend to live in a dungeon. So, I was just confirming my doubts. Aaaand..."

Eryn pointed to a line.

"'Due to their small stature and their focus on close-knit societies, the members of this Kin prefer the upper floors of dungeons. They rarely go beyond the 5th floors, as they can fall to the stronger predators'," Eryn read triumphantly.

"First and foremost, what is that book?"

"Oh, my old notes from school. Since some potions depend on monster parts or blood, we were taught some aspects of their behavior and semi-monstrous Kin."

"Well, keep it hidden, but safe. My notes are not as clean as yours," they laughed. "Second, care to tell me who you were talking about?"

"Simple," she replied, "we'll be going after-"