Classing Down The Place(Elf to Goblin TG) (Patreon)

PATREON REWARDS

"What are you creatures doing here?!" The goblins were all armed, a knife in each hand, the noble elf Vulre stumbling towards them, encumbered by a malady clearly while the rest of his party approached from behind. Surprisingly, not to back him up.

"Leave em alone Vul, you're drunk."

"They're just trying to eat dinner." It was true, their knives supplied by the tavern for their meal, and the goblins were very clearly trying to mind their own business. Vulre was having none of it.

"Do you know how many of your kind we've had to kill over our last few ques-"

His party's rogue Mirxi looked like she wanted to cast an invisibility spell.

"Those were dungeon scavengers. There's all sorts of goblins in the world and there's no need to rile up these fine folk. Besides elves also do some bad thi-"

"Only dark elves!" Mirxi retreated further into the folds of her cloak.

"Please stop being openly racist you pompous shithead we've been blacklisted from ten separate guilds because of your backwoods thinking." Now Vulre's wrath was turned on his teammate.

"I will have you know that all woods are equally valid Mirxi. All that matters is your elevation! And I'll have you know my pedigree comes from a family that have been sun kissed for generations unlike those filthy darklings near the bottom-"

"H-Hey let's not continue that train of thought and instead just finish our meals. There's drinking and dancing to be had and none of it requires us to fight some non hostile patrons," their burly paladin intervened, wrapping a friendly hand around Vul's while fingering a five pointed star necklace etched inside a pearl moon, praying for his goddess to shut up their party's idiot ranger. Surprisingly the next people to speak were the goblins, not versed in the common tongue as a chaotic mix of gurgles and chittering made up the bulk of their "response" which none but their slightly tipsy wizard could understand.

"What did that trash call me Parzo?! Tell me!" Vulre shook the drunkard in his robes before they clocked him on the head with his staff, turning to the goblins.

"Err... could you repeat that?" The same mangled language greeted them, the wizard nodding before turning to an annoyed Vulre.

"They want you to drink. They said Elves have such weak constitution their bodies couldn't handle a shot of uh... what did you call it again?" More incomprehensible noises.

"Gob Server Surprise." Of course this was a direct attack on Vulre's pride, his elf magic resistance including a high purifying power that made short work of any medium strength to weak poison or any alcohol. Nothing these small, primitive beasts could handle would possibly phase himself and if it would shut up his party, he'd prove his own superiority by besting whatever idiotic challenge these goblins had in mind. They sure seemed smug as they ordered one of the tavern wenches to bring them the shot, or at least that's what he assumed, he could never figure out what one grunt meant from another.

She was back soon with the ingredients, a few amber liquors and some heavy cream, the goblins pouring all into a shot glass. This would be childs play for him, these dumb goblins obviously lightweights with their consumption. For a second he gave the rankest of shit eating grins, his eyes closed in smug abandon, but in that short lapse, the goblin mixing it produced a small, purple green bottle. The dark mix dripped into the amber, becoming lost as the cream covered any darkening, leaving the whole shot seemingly simple. And with one final dollop of whipped cream, the drink was complete, Vulre smirking at what would be the easiest provocation he had ever had to overcome.

"Is that all? I figured your kind would have to spit or fuck to make this a challenge. It's certainly small enough. Parzo could you translate what I-"

"Just drink the damn thing! We have to get going soon!"

"Fine." And so Vulre downed the shot.

It was incredibly sweet at first, like someone had turned an eclair into a drink, and it ran down his throat with the ease that fine alcohol gives, but inside that sweetness was a spark, something fiery that ran through his throat and spread once it splashed into the pit of his stomach. He suppressed a gasped and strained to not show any discomfort, struggling out a, "Th-There. Easy." The goblins laughed at that, one of them coughing out a, "you will be" before he left their table dragged by the rest of his party. If he didn't care more about hiding how affected he was, Vulre might have wondered why he understood the last thing they had said, after all his brain was repulsed by mongrel languages. There were many things he ought to have been focusing on after that shot, but before he could say anything idiotic he was already dragged out the doors.

"I can carry myself fine!"

"NO YOU CAN'T!" Mirxi was the one to blow up at him, the others standing back and letting her deal with it. Parzo was starting to get a hangover and their paladin Grom was always better at fighting than talking through complex social interactions. So it was Mirxi's floor... well grassy meadow to have for their elf's much needed reality check.

"We only left because YOU would have gotten us banned for life at another place with your stupid fucking prejudices! You are a liability to our entire party you pompous piece of shit!" He seemed visibly taken aback, also a tad nauseous, not that he connected that to the shot, he just felt incredibly offended that of all people he'd be seen as a hindrance.

"I am not a hindrance nor am I any source of dishonor, especially amongst you lot! I am of a noble bloodlRRGH~!" His upright posture faltered, another burning pang in his gut radiating outwards. If he had checked his stomach he might have noticed a few green splotches tainting his ivory abs, but all he knew was that something felt softer when his fingers checked, but a full inspection would be embarrassing.

"Are you okay Vul-"

"I'M FINE!" It must have been that horrible tavern food. Sure it would make more sense to blame the shot, but that would be tantamount to saying his system couldn't handle some dregs of goblin liquor and his mind wouldn't even consider it. Still something was wrong that was for sure, not that he'd give them the satisfaction of weakness. Oh they'd just love it if he suddenly asked for a hand after denying himself a burden.

"Leave him alone Grom! The prick is too good for help. That's how you always word it when we're banned from a guild or a bar isn't it? 'I was too good for that place anyways.' You always just think of yourself even if it means we have to suffer through it with you!" To Mirxi's surprise he didn't disagree or even protest much. Perhaps he was finally getting it through his thick skull. Of course that wasn't the actual reason, Vulre was just finding it took all his focus to walk. He felt like he was melting, boots joggling more with each step, his clothes drooping and pooling in places they never had before. And if he really focused his ears, he swore he could hear an unidentifiable popping sound every few seconds, hot tingles running down his spine.

Strangest of all, something about the burning felt... good? A deep thrumming in his core as his shaft began to tighten against his tunic. Willpower alone kept it at half mast, his temples throbbing as he blinked furiously, his eyelids now green, the lashes thick with mascara though the extra weight he took as a sign of sleepiness. Shit was this poison? No impossible. Elves had more resistance than any-

"NNGH!" The whole party paused, turning to look as Vulre's spine curved painfully, a few inches missing, though thankfully the other members couldn't see that, only noticing the sound and a slight sheen of sweat. Grom the caring brute as always went towards him asking, "Are you oka-"

"I'M FINE!"

He yelled so loud his voice cracked a tad at the end, which led to more muttering and glances from his teammates as he cleared his throat, cursing whatever was afflicting him. Of course there were the goblins back at the inn and their shot, but worse than poison would be to admit his elvish mana system couldn't handle some primitive spell. Chances are it was so poorly made it was just clogging something up, but why would that arouse him so much? And why were his clothes so loose?! His pant legs were practically dragging across the forest floor and his feet were practically slipping every time he took a step. At least the latter covered up the former which would have made their stares far more awkward. Thank god his companions were too oblivious to notice the changes.

Of course they noticed the changes, though it was more confusion than worry. Mirxi thought he was fucking around and Parzo was convinced he was cursed, though considering how often the party secretly wished for the gods to punish Vulre, no one was sure if they had inadvertently caused it during their last adventure or not. It became significantly harder to ignore what was happening though as his grunts grew more frequent, and his black hair went the way of leaves in fall before their very eyes. Like his now sickly colored skin that wasn't quite yet green, but more the pallor of a seasick adventurer, the red appeared in dappled dots, spreading across until a ginger fire had overtaken the original hue, shining fiercely in the sunlight.

"Uh... Vulre you're turning red an-"

"I am not mmph e-envious of you lot!"

"No that's not what I mean! No metaphors you're swimming in your clothes and half your face is green!" Vulre wanted them all to ignore whatever was happening, but even he had to take pause as he raised a hand, finding the twitching fingers greener. Pride still won out.

"I-It's nothing! If you're just going to keep looking at me I might as well just lead you lo-aaaaaaaaaaht!"

He hastened his pace to move in front, forgetting how loose his shoes were as he tumbled out, landing barefoot and half out his own trousers. Something about the fall must have kickstarted something, perhaps mixing up the contents of his stomach and charging it, as suddenly pain wracked his whole body, the entire process hastening, and becoming ever more pleasureful to boot. Vulre made a few noises that could only be described as pitiful as his extremities twitched, the third and fourth fingers and toes on both hands and feet pressing together. There was a horribly wrong sensation binding them together, the flesh merging, splitting, two sets of bone scraping against the other to merge into one unified joint, his hands and feet shrinking appropriately to match his 4 digits.

"Oh fuck did I drink too much or are you all seeing this too?" The party nodded, Parzo excusing himself to a nearby ditch to release his lunch. Grom went to pick up their changing party mate.

"Don't worry we're not too far from the town I'm sure we could-"

"UNHAND ME! My m-aaagic is just taking a bit longer to f-fix this. Any second now I'll, I-I'll UGH!" Vulre groaned, the pain fading as his body began releasing a few fluids of its own. He had lost control, his cock pointing straight up, balls full of roiling mana as his body hit mana overload. The green overtook it, the invasive spell massaging the inner workings of his genitalia as a fountain of cum spurted out, his magic fading with every release. With his weakening mana base, his height went to match the feelings of powerlessness, entire feet crunching down with some of the more violent releases. His body was like a broken accordion, pushing together lopsidedly as all of the lost fat bone and muscle tried its best to stay together, bunching out into two distinct areas, his upper chest and glutes.

"D-Don't look at meeeeeeEEEE~!" None of them besides Mirxi were. The guys just didn't want to see his exposed cock shooting out and Mirxi was purely watching it out of horrified curiosity and some form of karmic justice. The bulging mass at his chest was still formless, but as his legs wriggled out of their pants for good, their new forms became very evident, most of all to Vulre who was trying and failing to stem the flow below as absurdly soft fat crowded around his cock.

His feet were tiny now, but stout, almost a hoof if they didn't still retain the overall shape minus a toe. The fat practically bulged though out of his calves, the greatly reduced legs having stuffed all of that height horizontally as their stubby length curved into an even greater absurdity of thickness. They could barely be called thighs, more like tree trunks that wobbled when they smacked together, turning into a roiling sea of green flesh. They kept filling out, removing any hint of a thigh gap, painfully restricting against the edges of his hips until with a warbly scream and explosive spurt, they shot outwards, his hips going past child rearing size to pack rearing. To Mirxi it appeared incredibly painful, but the noises Vulre was squeaking out ran against that conclusion, a dopey grin on his face now, the refined edges beginning to soften and cutify under the impossible ecstasy.

The subtle details were lost to Vulre under the larger changes, especially as his petite male nipples swelled, but Mirxi definitely noticed them as his sylvan ears widened. The tips were still sharp, but rather than the snooty point they usually rounded out to, they were more kinked, large thick, floppy things that rotated upwards. Mirxi smirked as realization hit her, a smattering of freckles on his face, plump lips, pug nose and did her eyes deceive her or were his molars sharpening to 'brutish' points? Oh this was perfect!

"Oh Vulre~!" She half chirped it, confusing the 'elf' as she seemed to be smiling.

"Guess what you're turning into? Looks like you're going to have a rare first hand experience with some of those races you hate. Oh but I shouldn't bother you too much, the gender barrier is right after the race one and you crossed that one a while ago."

"*W-Wait no! I could accept b-b-HEEE-ing p-poisoned but not by GAAAAAAHblins! Th-They couldn't... NNGH stop! MMGH AHHHHHHH~!*" Vulre's nipples didn't just swell, they fattened up like a plump sow, becoming two absurd discs that turned the same golden brown as beer against the green, the last of his seed shot out as his tiny frame gained an absurd bosom that flopped back and half smothered him as their jiggling heft pleasured him past the horror, his moans turning to unintelligible gibberish for parts as his cock pulsated weakly between his thighs.

"*NNNGH YEEES! VUL MEANS NO! NOT WANT- Wh-Why is it hardER SPEAK NOW?! AHHHH PLEASE HELP STOP FEEEEEL GOOOOOOOOD~!" In between the broken common tongue were the traditional grunts and harsh tongue of the goblins, his mind reeling as his family's treasured seeds were uprooted and replanted inside, the great oak(truthfully more like a sapling not that he'd ever admit it) collapsing into the earth as his shaft fucked him thoroughly, crawling up every nook and cranny of her new goblin hole as she finally came, the haughty elf now a buxom goblin lass. Her face was left in a stupor of ecstasy, until Mirxi laughed at her enjoyment, her cheeks blushing as she struggled to get to her feet from under her draped tunic.

"Sh-Shut up! Not a word! NOT SINGLE WORD GIRL!" That made Mirxi laugh more, Vul cursing as she realized getting angry made her lapse back into goblin, which was now apparently her primary language. FUUUUUUUUU-

"Grom it's over. Carry her over your shoulder and lets head back to town. Lets have a little fun."

"NOO! YOU NO CARRY VUL! VUL FIX SELF! WAIT FOR MAGI-"

In the end his magic didn't come back and the goblins who had dosed him wouldn't be back for at least three months until a mining contract was finished, ironically enough for an elf village. Vulre of course couldn't adventure for the meantime, that fact only settling in the third time she got wiped out by a low level mob while her party bitched at her. Plus the goblins always returned to the tavern after a contract was finished so... It took a lot of arguing to get her to work at the inn, her noble blood offended at the menial work, but after her party left her and her village attacked her when she tried to return, obviously not believing such an obvious lie that mere goblins could best an elf, she eventually had to grovel for a waitressing position.

A strange thing happened over the following months, perhaps due to the amount she drank of unused ale to wash away her worries and a few spellcasters with literal magic hands groping her ample assets, but her mind was slowly growing fuzzy. Something about the work became fun, her body increasingly lusty, especially after a few pints and all that water weight seemed to migrate to her breasts, her nipples eventually sticking out permanently as she didn't have the money for a different uniform. There were still some shreds left of dignity and identity until the night she got really drunk with some orcs, her barely resisting as she rubbed against their abs and cocks, her first hard fucking leaving her the next morning hungover and happy go lucky. She went by Vul now and became a well known flirt, especially if you had the coin. A few months down the line she ran into some vaguely familiar people talking about a cure, but she didn't want cures, she wanted booze and said so, flirting with the big one.

"I told you there'd be a mental side to things Mir-"

"Don't blame me! I didn't mean to leave him like this I only wanted him to lear-"

Eh they were boring. There were some goblins a few tables down who looked a lot more fun than these bickering weirdos. She just knew they'd be great drinking partners and after a few rounds, she'd get to see just how good they could tip on the feather beds upstairs.