Laughter and the clink of glasses spilled from a corner table drawing John's gaze. There, a small, boisterous group was gathered having turned as one to acknowledge Oleg's arrival. As John followed close by he saw their cups were raised in a collective, if somewhat chaotic greeting towards his green friend.
"'Bout time ya got here, green bean!" boomed a dwarf, his voice a gravelly rumble. His hair, a veritable cascade of redish-gold, flowed freely that intertwined seamlessly with a magnificent, ring-studded beard that practically shimmered with golden accessories. A lavish golden robe adorned his stout frame barely holding back his large beer belly. From his belt hung a tiny, intricately crafted hammer that glinted in the restaurants dim light.
Beside him was an elf, an undeniably beautiful creature with blonde hair shimmering like spun moonlight, yet his features were softened, almost obscured by layers of generous fat. His face was full and jiggly with multiple chins and his body, though formidable in size, seemed to be forcefully contained within a snug green robe. His gaze swept over John with an assessing, almost appraising intensity as he let out a low hum.
Next at the table was a goblin with rolls and rolls of fat that jiggled as he munched on chips. His face was colored a deep, metallic gold with various bits of the precious metal clinging to him, forming a makeshift and extremely eccentric outfit of chains, jewelry and hammered plates. He seemed to embody the very essence of avarice.
Finally, at the far end, sat a being John found utterly baffling and that he first thought was a decoration. It looked like some kind of undead, yet vibrated with an unsettling vitality. Strange jewelry seemed to be rooted in its rocky looking flesh and seemed to be growing out of its body, its hair was a literal strands of polished jade. Through the cracks and fissures in its skin, John could glimpse liquid gold, slowly pulsing like a strange, internal circulation that somehow didn't bleed out.
"Why you bring a skinny pretty boy here, green bean? You said it would be one like us!" The goblin Oleg told him was called Squib, jabbed a chubby, chip-dusted finger accusingly at John, his words muffled by his full mouth. "Furthermore, since when you be friendly with humans?"
"Calm down," Oleg said smoothly, laying a reassuring hand on John's back. "This is the young friend I spoke of. Remember, I asked around for some help in getting a person back to a proper physique? It was for my little friend here since as you can no doubt see he had an accident and ended up like this."
All focus sharpened on John, their gazes piercing, as if trying to look deep into his very being. An uncomfortable silence fell over the table, punctuated only by the distant sounds of the café and Squib munching on more chips.
"Why humi?" The strange, rock-like creature, Gorg, managed to articulate, its words barely more than a guttural whisper, resonating like stones grinding together.
The elf, Arwin, with a graceful, almost languid gesture that belied his substantial size, leaned forward. "Probably because there's far more than his outward appearance. For instance, his soul form – while still too thin for my liking – would probably be comparable to a decent figure for a human. But his body's… Wrong. It's been forcibly pushed into that unsightly, hard shape and from the strain I see it was probably against his will, I can see its even trying to press the body to return to his old self but the stiffness of the physical form is preventing it." Arwin paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Then there's his aura, a slow, shifting mass of colors I have never seen before. Not to mention I did see that when he looked each of us over, it wasn't in disgust or distaste like so many others do, but rather it was with honest interest and even hints of appreciation. He clearly understands our bodies are what real beauty is. But before we go further, I have a very serious question that I have to ask."
Without warning Arwin moved at a speed that should have been utterly impossible for his size, appearing directly in front of John without disturbing the table at all. John, startled, found himself looking up at a figure at least twice his own height. The elf's sheer scale was even more impressive up close as he loomed in front of him.
"Tell me, funny little human," Arwin's voice, now smooth as silk yet laced with intensity as it reverberated in the air around them. "And know that your answer will hold far more impact than you know in regards to our exclusive little group. Big breasts, small breasts or flat chests? Which is the right path?"
John had anticipated many things upon meeting Oleg's eccentric friends: intricate magical theories, tales of daring adventures, or even arcane riddles, maybe even talks on food or plans for fights due to their own distaste towards the gods and their large size. But this, a question about boobs was definitely not what he expected and caused him to blink, momentarily speechless.
"Answer, humi," Gorg rasped, his jade hair seeming to shift slightly.
"Ya, it can't be dat hard, lad!" Thoris the dwarf chimed in, a wide, expectant grin splitting his beard.
John glanced at Oleg, who gave him a small, encouraging pat on the back. Sweet Bell, who had been quietly observing the scene beside John, couldn't help but yell, "Seriously! This is ridiculous! What do a woman's tits have to do with this? Can't you all at least show some sense of self respect?"
John, however, had already begun to process the question through a surprisingly old lens. "It really is important, my little friend," Oleg finally said as he settled into a vacant chair at the table, his eyes fixed intently on John. "It's a test to join us and it will prove to them if you belong with us or if it will just be a casual friendship between me and you before you get turned away. I really do hope you give the right answer though since it would open so many amazing doors."
Caught off guard, Sweet Bell looked at John Noticing he had a serious look now. "Okay so it's one of those situations." He began regaining his composure, looking each of them over once more before nodding slowly and addressing Sweetbell. "Actually, even back home, before things changed, this was something really important between men and even some women." Then, he faced the peculiar group again, a thoughtful and serious expression on his face.
"My answer stays the same as it was before the world changed." John began, his eyes locking on Arwin's penetrating gaze. "My answer is in the form of a counter question. Does it really matter? That question is my answer. Because at the end of the day, it doesn't matter if the girl is a washboard or has a chest like an airbag. As long as she fits our ideal of beauty, isn't a complete bitch and can see how awesome a proper body like ours—" He paused, patting his own flat stomach, his face souring before sweeping a hand towards the other occupants of the table with a small cough instead. "—like yours and what I used to have, then it should give enough merit for her bust not to matter in the long run."
Arwin's full face crinkled in concentration. "So that's your answer? Are you absolutely sure about that? I mean, a girl with small handfuls or a flat chest is always nice, especially since you won't get suffocated in them." A snort of disagreement burst from Thoris.
"Lies! A full, big chest is da best!" the dwarf argued, thumping the table lightly with a meaty hand. "Ya can use 'em as pillows and have so much fun with 'em and if ya have kids? Dem puppies grow big n milky!"
"That's precisely why I stick with my answer," John reiterated, his voice firm. "Be it big, small or none at all, the girl would first need to appreciate our proper bodies and their awesome nature well not being a complete and utter bitch or gold digger who would use us for their own gain."
His final words hung in the air, met by a moment of unexpected silence. Then, a chittering laugh erupted from Squib.
"Humi has vote," Gorg rumbled, a faint, metallic clink accompanying his words.
"And mine!" Squib declared, his golden face gleaming with delight. "That right there is the perfect and right answer to give! A woman's a woman; if they can see the handsomeness of these young gentlemen, her chest shouldn't be a deciding factor or breaking point!"
"I brought him here, so you already know my vote," Oleg said with a wide, satisfied grin.
"Bah, da human's right in dat regard I suppose," Thoris grudgingly admitted, trying and failing to hide a grin that peeked through his beard. "I'm gonna give ma vote for it."
Arwin considered them all for a long moment, then slowly relented. "Well, I prefer mine with a proper smooth chest and body but I suppose I can also agree with your words." He extended a surprisingly soft, yet undeniably meaty, hand across the table to John. "Then by unanimous vote allow me, Arwin, the best-looking and best-figured elf to exist, be the first to officially welcome you as the newest member of the Honorable Order of Respectable Noble Youngsters."
Taking Arwin's hand, John was a bit surprised by how calloused it was, despite its soft appearance. "Thank you?" John said honestly, a touch of confusion still in his voice. "But honestly, I have no idea what I'm even joining though. Oleg just offered for me to meet some of his friends the next time I came here and now I'm suddenly part of a group of great-figured men without even knowing much about the group. And it seems like you have a dislike for humans, but I am one. And I know it's out of place but Oleg also just mentioned it opening doors?"
Arwin released his hand, a soft chuckle rumbling in his chest as he practically dragged John over to the table, making him sit down among them. The air around the table now felt lighter and far more welcoming.
"I'll answer dat," Thoris began, leaning forward conspiratorially. "My name's Thoris and for hating humans, ya damn right we do. Humans are a plague. Ya multiply worse than da horny gobs, take all ya can and try ta be better than everyone else by 'ruling' wherever ya go. Always pushing yer skinny, sad standards of beauty on everyone else too, when ya lot are barely more than dried twigs! Ravaging n raping wherever ya get a foothold."
"Humi come, kill, take and destroy," Gorg added, his voice a low, gravelly current. "Gorg crush and kill humi for hurting me for silly stones. They dig into ground, tear away kin's bodies for shiny rocks. Me hate humi's."
"Watch your words, dwarf," Squib chided, though without much heat. "Goblies are better than humans, especially in breeding! Tsk, but he is right, they call us savage, kill us and hunt us as were supposed to be easy kills for training newbie adventurers in many worlds. If our legends are true before humans destroyed it all and set us back we had art, technology, science and so much more. Our ancestors trusted the humans and we got cursed for it, stabbed in the back after extending a hand of gratitude and kindness. Now we breed so fast and in such numbers with the hopes that one day one will be born without the curse of loss and lack of intelligence so many of my kind have, to lead us back to better times and help get us revenge! I might be it; others seem to believe it but I can't say for certain. Only that I, Squib, have led my race to a new height, even if it's far from what we used to be I feel it's a good start."
Oleg placed a hand on John's shoulder, his smile soft, though his eyes held a distant sorrow. "I was a slave, beaten, abused and made to slaughter my own kin before being left for dead when I proved to be too hard to keep control of. I've seen the worst of humans. But you don't seem anything like a human, at least not like those I've met or interacted with before and while you're cursed to look like one, you don't feel like one, I feel like it's just wrong for me to call you one. And if nothing else, you're extremely interesting. Your heart and your spirit, every part of you all so different from what I've encounter before. Regardless of how you may look though you're one of us now." A shared glance passed between Oleg and Arwin, a silent understanding as he received a nod. "You'll learn our ways and soon, you'll remember the true beauty of a robust form, just like ours as your own returns to you."