Elder Scrolls Story: The Orc Potionmaster

Story by draconicon on SoFurry

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Commissioned by FA: Nataraj . Well, not every person has an honest job; sometimes assassins are needed, and orcs are often the target, though this one got lucky.

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The Orc Potionmaster for Nataraj by Draconicon

Sneaking through the old castle was difficult for Nataraj, but the Argonian couldn't stop now. His reputation couldn't take another beating after he was sent running from the dragon beneath Dragon's Bridge; if he couldn't accomplish this mission, then he was going to be blacklisted by anyone offering mercenary work.

Still, he wished that the bandits kept the castle a little warmer. Would it really kill them to keep a few more fireplaces lit? It was a blizzard outside, and they walked around as if it were the height of summer outside.

I bet that damn potion master is responsible, the Argonian thought as he made his way through the cramped secret passageway he'd found. Some sort of potion that keeps people from freezing. Well, he better have one of those for me when I get there, or I'm going to make sure that his death takes a very long time.

Even with his heavy leather armor, the Argonian still felt the chill in his tail and in his feet. It was so hard to keep moving, particularly when he felt a blast of wind shooting through the passageway when someone inadvertently opened a part of it. Nataraj pulled his arms tight to his chest, trying to resist the temptation to use a fire spell. Though it might have warmed the tunnel, it probably would burn other things up. Probably. He was almost desperate enough to risk it.

He was passing one of the many exits from the tunnel when he froze in place, the sound of footsteps freezing him as surely as any ice spell. The Argonian ever so slowly pressed his ear to the panel, listening.

"...gub, do you know how expensive this stuff is?"

"Less 'spensive than you buying better equipment."

"Sapphires? Fire salts? These things are hard to find. Can't you make your potions with something cheaper?"

"You want my best? You get me the best."

"Damn it. Fine. But we better get a good score soon, or you're going out on your ass."

One set of footsteps walked off, while the other seemed to shuffle off to another part of the room, as far as the Argonian could hear. Nataraj smiled. It seemed he had found his target.

Keeping as quiet as he could, the reptilian agent slowly pushed the panel to the side. Thankfully, it was quiet, not creaky or squeaky as some of the panels had been, and it gave him just enough room to wiggle out. Finding himself in a library mixed with a greenhouse, the Argonian was immediately happier with the temperature...and happier still that he could confirm his target.

The fat orc standing in front of the alchemy lab could be none other than Magub, the potion master that had gone missing from the College along with a great deal of supposedly secret recipes. The orc had a bounty on his head that anyone would like to collect, but not many wanted to deal with the Mage's College. Nataraj didn't have that problem; as long as they were giving him something to live on, he'd take on whatever contract they wanted.

Pulling his knife free, he tiptoed up behind the big green man. He could smell that the guy had been sweating for a while, the greenskin's musky scent nearly enough to overpower the scent of all his ingredients, and that was from nearly three feet away. The Argonian slowly closed the distance, getting closer and closer as he raised his knife.

He had it right over his head, ready for a dramatic stab, when the orc held out a potion vial to him.

"Here. Drink this and tell me what you think."

He stared at the vial, blinking as it nearly made him go cross-eyed.

"Come on, take it. I don't have all day, and you wanted to try the latest batch."

The latest - If that was the potion that would give him some damn warmth, he'd take it. Nataraj grabbed it, putting the glass rim to his lips before gulping down the red-green potion. Almost immediately he gagged at the taste, but he didn't much care about the flavor as long as it worked.

Now, to business. He raised the knife again as the orc started putting more ingredients together, but before he could strike, he felt the sudden warmth spike in his stomach. He gasped, falling back as he clutched his arms around his stomach, his knife clattering to the floor.

That finally seemed to get the orc's attention, and Magub turned around to see what was going on. Nataraj looked up just in time to see the look of confusion turn to one of satisfaction, and the fat orc chuckled as the Argonian squirmed from the effects of the potion burning in his gut.

"Well, well. Look what we have here. Some sort of assassin?"

"Agent..."

"Of who, huh?"

"...Free agent."

"Just a mercenary, eh?"

It took him a moment, but he realized that the fat orc wore even less than the rest of the men in the castle. While the bandits wore furs that covered their shoulders and vitals - at least, somewhat - the orc wore even less. He stood in sandals and a loincloth, and every inch of exposed green skin shone with a layer of sweat and oil. The scent of it was strong enough to make the Argonian's nose burn.

It didn't get much better when the orc pulled one foot free of his sandals, revealing a sole that was as wet and musky as the rest of him. Nataraj tried to turn his head, but he was pinned beneath the sole before long, leaving his cheeks slick with the salty sweat clinging to the green flesh.

"You know what you drank, 'agent'?"

"A rotten potion?"

The weight on his face got heavier for a second.

"No sass."

"Damn, that's all I got."

"It's a potion of transformation."

Transformation? He'd never heard of any potions that were that good. The mages had said that they were secret, but if they were able to do things like that...well, that was shocking, to say the least. He tried to look up, but he could barely see the orc through the gaps between the green toes.

"The bandits here have been begging for a better set of potions for a while now. They won't pay for it, though. I don't think they get that they gotta pay for quality to get quality. But you...Heh, you'll be quite a help."

Nataraj groaned as the orc flipped him onto his back, the heat from his belly rapidly spreading through his body in the most uncomfortable of ways. He was sweating much more already, and he swore that his leathers were getting discolored from it as his scales felt utterly drenched.

"I'm not...not going to help you."

"Don't really have much of a choice. When you transform, you're going to have an entirely different mind. And if I got it right, you'll want to help."

"T-transform?"

"Look at your boots."

Unable to help himself, the Argonian did just that, and his eyes widened at the side of the bulges that were pushing at the sides and toes of his boots. The well-crafted leather, normally so form fitted to him, was nearly bursting at the seams, pushed at by something inside. He was suddenly aware of the tightness around his feet, and groaned in discomfort. He kicked his legs, but all that did was drag the heels on the floor, making him all the more aware of how tight they were.

A sudden burst of heat went through his body, and just like that, the shoes ripped. Green skin, a lighter, more emerald green compared to his normal scale color, had replaced his scales. The toes were blunted, no longer clawed, and his feet were massive compared to their previous size. He could already see the droplets of sweat running down them, and could even feel it along his sensitive soles.

He arched his back as the same feeling of tension ran up his legs. His spine felt crunched as his tail began to shrink, slurping up into his back, and his armor felt tighter than ever as the potion ran through him. Muscular green thighs broke through the leather, and thick green calves splintered the last of his boots.

When it hit his groin, he felt it even worse. Immediately, his cock was forced hard, and the potion master made sure to humiliate him by ripping the armor off of him to show it. The fleshy toned shaft rapidly turned green, but didn't stop there. The scales on his balls disappeared, replaced by the hot green flesh, and both them and his cock began to grow. From eight inches to ten the shaft stretched, and his balls went from egg size to lemon size, and then again to the size of oranges.

He groaned as his ass swelled, pushing at the tight leather, pulling it apart in rips and tears until a jiggling, fat green rump was out in the open. It held him up higher than before, even if his own body weight flattened it down.

His belly and arms were next as the potion moved fast, spreading through him and burning away his Argonian traits. Fat and muscle piled on as he grew a big belly, nearly as jiggly as his ass, and his arms went from lean and limber to thick and beefy. He growled as his face was pushed inwards, or broken down, or something, his snout becoming less and defined until he had nothing left, his face as flat as a human's.

Except for his teeth. Two tusks grew in, poking out from his jawline and pointing straight up in the air. Black hair grew in across his body, making him fuzzy, hairy, and completely soaked in his own sweat.

Magub pulled him to his feet as the heat burned in his head, Nataraj groaning as he wobbled too and fro. For a moment, he forgot who he even was.

Then it came back.

Mug snapped his hand to his chest, making his new fatty and muscled pecs ripple with the impact.

"Bodyguard Mug here, sir. Where can I find some weapons?"

"Very good. Go find one of the humans and ask them. Oh, and Mug?"

"Yeah?"

"Bend him over and have a little fun when you find him; you look like you need it."

"Yessir! Thank you sir!"

The End