‘Esshhhhh, still hurts…’
Sonnet had only moved her right wing a little, shuffling around in bed. There was a definite twinge in the upper portion of it that made her grind her teeth in a moderate amount of pain. Seems it wasn’t completely healed yet, she’d have to stay off it for some time more which was going to be a nuisance.
It did serve as a reminder though of the rather narrow escape she and her friends had faced getting out of that accursed dungeon. It wasn’t probably what she had envisioned and in her head seemed like the least heroic way of injuring herself. Dungeons were pretty notorious for being dark and not entirely paying attention to where she was stepping, had tripped over a flagstone and caught her wing as she had tumbled to the floor. The rest of her party had found it amusing until they noticed she was hurt.
Sonnet as the name suggested was the bard of the group. Armed with a trusty lyre that the batpony carried around wherever the adventure took them, she prided herself in her ability to play music that was magical. Quite a few times, it had helped the party out of a difficult spot or two, but more times than not it served as a nice morale booster when they had time to relax in an inn or needed to earn some coin. Right now, Sonnet was staring at the instrument which was resting on a chair just across the room. She supposed she should get out of bed, laying there wasn’t exactly doing much for her.
There was a creak from the bed as she sat upright. ‘Yes I know.’ Sonnet sighed. That tripping over the flagstone wasn’t just clumsiness that caused her to injure herself. It was mostly that, but her weight hadn’t helped her either that day.
It was difficult for the mare to think back to a time when she was thin, many years ago. Not that Sonnet was old or even close to being considered that, but she had grown up rather well looked after in a small forest village where the variety of food was well, lacking quite a lot. It was hearty food meant to keep ponies going with physical work and Sonnet had tried to avoid doing it as much as possible which would have kept her weight down, so she never really had an opportunity to burn it off. This had continued when she set out into the world and found that music was an easy way to not only make money, but also just ask for food in exchange for playing. Therefore the batpony did as little as possible with exercise and played for food. The adventuring life had come later, when just eating her boredom away was no longer enough for her. The trouble was, the weight had stayed and despite the fact that she was out and about and rather active, Sonnet hadn’t really been able to get rid of much of it. Sure she might have lost a pound or two here and there in a spot of deep trouble when she had been required to move rather quickly, but often she let her wings do the work for her anyway. When they were back out of danger and at the first inn, generally her first order of business was to play her lyre not in exchange for money, but for food. Sometimes it earned money, but that was only when food just wasn’t an option in exchange for music.
Quantity was always a winner of quality too. If she was offered three pies or one traditional but well prepared lunch, she would take the three pies every single time. It wasn’t even a contest in her mind. The creak from the bed struggling to keep her weight aloft though was a reminder of her weight. Sonnet knew she was large. She was well aware of it too, hence the ‘Yes I know.’ that had just left her lips as she pulled the sheets off her and put a hoof down to the floor. She didn’t make a habit of speaking to beds.
For now she was alone, after the last adventure was done the party had broken up and she had some time to herself before she went seeking something new to do. She hadn’t come away empty hoofed either. She had found something whilst they had been snooping around the dungeon.
It was only small, but now Sonnet was sure she was alone and not being watched she was confident she could remove it from being hidden in her small carrying pouch where she kept what little money she had as well as a few other sundry items. The room she had paid to stay in didn’t contain much, just the bed and a small desk with a chair. Sonnet decided not to try to sit in the chair, it didn’t quite look sturdy enough for her, so she pushed it to the side and stood at the desk instead, placing the item she had removed from the carrying pouch onto the desk.
It was tiny, a small ruby that was a deep red colour which was inset into a pin. It was no bigger than the pupil of her eye, but it was clear that whoever made it had put quite a lot of craftsmanship into it. The ruby was seated in some rather ornate looking metal that made up the pin. As she glanced closer at it, she eyeballed it, seeing a somewhat muddy reflection of herself staring back at her through the jewel. The first thought that came to her mind was the obvious one.
‘What’s it worth?’
Sonnet wasn’t really one for fashion. She wore simple clothes (a pretty typical dress for a bard, a belt and some shoes) that really, she should have up-sized at some point to match her figure. It was the last bastion of her kidding herself that she wasn’t really that big which she refused to change, even if the belt did chafe against her waist and the dress had absolutely no room to move around her frame even if it was meant to be able to. Removing her thoughts from her clothes for a second, Sonnet returned to looking at the ruby pin. There was only something else on the back, something she could not read. She didn’t know the language. One of the party seemed to think it was Draconic. Two words only made any sense to her.
Wearer di wer pin di charir, dout tisvelkilti trait nishka qe reduced ekess loex.
‘Wearer’ and ‘Reduced’ were the only things there she could see. She wondered what it reduced. Hopefully it wouldn’t be her appetite. Around the words were some further small engravings that showed things shrinking, playing on that motif of reducing. Magical amulets did all sorts of things, but if this was something that somepony was expected to wear it couldn’t have been that bad. Maybe it reduced your size, the thought of which gave Sonnet a chuckle. Or maybe even it was for fancy bigwig high society types and they wore it at expensive balls where they had to spend hours talking to dignitaries and it reduced the amount of times they had to go to the bathroom after consuming far too much free wine. That one made her laugh to herself.
Sonnet had two options really with the thing. Figure out what the writing meant and once she knew, keep it. That was option one.
Option two was her original thought, find an appraiser and then try to sell it for some reasonable amount of money she could use to likely get her greedy hooves on more food. Either seemed like a good idea.
Sonnet decided that she’d at least try to seek out an appraiser and that she had also had enough of the small room in the inn that she had been staying in. Grabbing her things and trying her best to slide her clothes on without causing any more rips in the fabric due to her size, she geared up and put the pin back in her carrying pouch and made her way downstairs towards the bar. She’d ask the innkeeper for advice on finding someone who could help her.
‘Good morning miss, sleep well?’ the minotaur, Argajan Stormskin asked her. Sonnet had learned he was a former bounty hunter who had retired from the profession now that he was later into his life and opened The Fighting Ox Inn which suited him down to the ground. The town of Ditchwater was quiet enough for him that he was not concerned with doing much else apart from serving drinks and food to tired travellers, and breaking up the occasional bar fight.
‘Fine Argajan thank you.’ Sonnet replied. ‘I’ll be moving on though.’
‘Shame, your music last night was really good. I was hoping you’d play for a few more nights. Something about it stops the rowdy ones fighting.’ Argajan mused.
‘Soothing spell in the music. Generally keeps creatures passive. Before I go, does Ditchwater have anyone who deals in jewellery?’
‘Not in Ditchwater.’ Argajan simply replied, starting to clean a glass. ‘You’d have to travel to Mochari which is three days walking or a day if you want to hire transport. The road is reasonably safe, some bandits now and then. Inns along the route if you need someplace to sleep at night.’ he finished, putting the clean glass away and starting on another. ‘What do you need one for?’
‘I made some money on my last adventure, looking to spend it on something.’ she lied, not wanting to reveal information about the pin.
‘Well keep that one to yourself, you might want to spend some of it on transport. Safer than walking.’ Argajan said. ‘See you around hopefully. You’re always welcome here.’
‘Thanks Argajan, I’ll drop by next time I am back in Ditchwater.’ Sonnet replied, leaving The Fighting Ox Inn. She wasn’t sure when she would be back but for now, she had a purpose. Three days trotting to Mochari sounded doable. Sonnet had a little money, she debated in her head whether she’d hire transport to get her there in a day or trot herself. Argajan had said the road was reasonably safe. Sonnet decided that she would trot herself, bandits at the time of year were very unlikely anyway. There was little being moved from a tiny place like Ditchwater to a bigger town three days away.
As she made her way out of town, there was a little thought at the back of her head. It did seem a shame to be keeping that rather lovely pin hidden away. Sonnet didn’t really care for the looks of the thing, fashion wasn’t on her mind. But it was pretty and the mare hardly had anything like it to call her own. In fact, actually, nothing like it. Sometimes things like this would ward bandits off (or just make her a target) if they saw some sort of identifying pin that would make them think twice about coming near her. Sonnet pulled it from the carrying pouch and placed it on her chest, pinning it to the front of her bard’s outfit. She figured the worst that could happen is some creature might try to take it from her, but she’d be ready to deal with whatever came her way.
Almost immediately however, Sonnet was regretting the decision to make her own way there.
The road ran through a forest. There wasn’t exactly lots of scenery to look at unless you liked staring at seemingly endless amounts of trees that blocked out a view of much else. She’d occasionally pass somepony else travelling in the opposite direction but they shuffled past her rather quickly and barely said anything. Most regular folks were like this however, they saw an adventurer and knew pretty quickly to just steer clear of them. Sonnet didn’t take offence, she was used to it.
She decided that when she got to the first inn, she’d find a cart heading to Mochari and ask to hitch a ride even if she had to pay unless one came up behind her on the road. At least for her journey Sonnet had brought a little food. Just some bread to keep her going which she had picked up in Ditchwater yesterday. The thing was, even though she was a mare of a larger size, she could generally go a reasonable amount of time before needing to eat a meal if she had to. Curiously though, as she carried on her journey she started to feel...peckish. Then hungry. The feeling was growing rather quickly. She had eaten a full meal back at The Fighting Ox too last night which in her mind, should have been more than enough for a day and it was still only mid-morning. Sonnet had not been travelling the road to Mochari very long.
The bread she had vanished quickly as she walked and ate. There was only one thing for it, the alchemy jug was coming out.
It was the other thing in her carrying pouch that she had with her besides money. A small jug that had been given to her by a travelling partner. Like her music, it was magical too having saved her and her party’s skin on quite a few occasions when they had completely run out of water lost on some long trek through a dungeon. All the owner had to do was tap the jug and it would fill itself with whatever liquid they desired which they could then drink from. Perhaps if she had a drink, it would stave off the hunger until she got to an inn on the road.
Sonnet fished it out of the carrying pouch and took a swig. The magic of the jug meant that whoever held it, the item instantly filled with whatever drink they were craving at that time. Apparently Sonnet was craving some sort of highly refreshing fruit flavoured drink because it tasted of apples. She drank the entire thing, rather quickly too. All the walking she was doing was thirsty work. The jug refilled as soon as she had finished it off and took a few more gulps before stuffing it back into her carrying pouch.
At this point the road was rather straight, she could see a building some ways off in the distance. It was inn shaped at least, but that didn’t mean it was one. Could just be a rest stop or something else. Woodcutters lodge perhaps, there were plenty of trees around after all.
Thankfully however it was an inn. The sign out front read The Weary Travellers Rest. Sonnet made her way inside, there were precious few patrons and one rather tired looking barkeeper who was another pony. Nobody paid her much attention apart from a cursory glance.
‘Food.’ was all Sonnet said.
‘Uh, what?’ the pony barkeeper asked.
‘Whatever you’ve got, I’ll order it. Don’t care.’ Sonnet said. She felt practically ravenous by this stage, her stomach grumbling under her bard’s dress. She felt the hunger not just in her stomach but all over. The barkeeper just nodded and vanished, bringing back a board covered in various breads and cheeses. Without even asking Sonnet quickly slapped some of the cheese on top of the bread and began to eat to make the feeling of immense hunger subside. Thankfully as soon as she started to gorge herself, the hunger vanished and she could focus again on other things. The barkeeper was still staring at her, he had never seen a mare dig into food so quickly and ferociously before.
‘You been travelling long then without a good meal?’ he asked.
‘No only since this morning and I ate then. I can’t keep it up though. Any cart drivers here?’ Sonnet asked, taking another bite of bread and cheese.
‘Yes one, he’s sitting over there. You heading to Mochari?’ the barkeeper responded.
‘Sure am.’ Sonnet said.
‘Hey, Slow Coach!’ the barkeeper spoke up. ‘Got a customer for ya!’
Sonnet turned away from her meal for a moment to see who the barkeeper was yelling at. It was another pony, somewhat gruffer looking for a stallion. He was clearly older and had the look about him that he had worked for a very long time. He wandered over to the bar and took a spot next to Sonnet, which allowed her to finish her meal.
‘A silver gets you to Mochari big lady.’ was all the stallion said. He could see Sonnet’s eye’s narrow at the use of the word ‘big’. He adjusted his stance and carried on. ‘Well, I’d have said little lady but you’re not really little.’ he finished.
‘Fair enough, here.’ Sonnet said, passing him a silver from her money bag. ‘When do you leave?’
‘Not long, plenty of time for you to finish your meal. I’ll be waiting out front for you.’ he said, leaving the bar and for Sonnet to finish eating. The hunger was abating for now. Sonnet asked the barkeeper if she could take any travel food with her for the trip. He just nodded and brought out a few sacks of what looked to be preserved fruits and other things that would last a trip. Sonnet paid her share then went out front to find Slow Coach who was already waiting outside.
‘So, are you called Slow Coach for a reason?’ Sonnet asked. She couldn’t help but wonder about the name.
‘Nah, I’m no slower than any other carriages. Mine is different though.’ he said, taking a seat on the wagon next to Sonnet. There was nothing on the front to move it, in fact Sonnet saw that Slow Coach didn’t even have any reigns.
Slow Coach clicked his hooves together and somehow, the wagon started to move forward. Magic, it was always magic. If Sonnet’s wing wasn’t still recovering and she had a little more to go on that magical music she’d be using it as well to transport herself around. Still though, it meant she could just sit and rest while the pair made their way to Mochari on the road. She felt a little safer too. It seemed apt right now to make small talk. Sonnet was just about to speak when Slow Coach spoke first.
‘I like yer’ pin. Where’s that from?’ he asked, looking at the red ruby.
‘Oh er, family heirloom.’ Sonnet lied, she wasn’t going to outright tell a stranger that she had just found it.
‘It’s real pretty, good thing for bandits to steal.’ Slow Coach carried on saying.
‘Well they’ve not gone after it yet. Hey, do you mind if I eat while you er, drive? Is that what you’re doing?’ Sonnet asked Slow Coach.
‘Technically the magic is driving for me, but no I don’t mind. Anyhow it’ll be quite a few hours until we get to Mochari. You just go ahead and there big lady.’ Slow Coach said.
‘Look I know I am a little overweight, but you don’t have to keep saying it.’ Sonnet replied back, a little flustered.
‘Oh sorry, I just tend to refer to women as little ladies. You’re not really short either.’ Slow Coach replied himself, observing Sonnet. ‘You mind me asking how yer’ that size? The fancy pin makes me think yer’ from money.’ he said honestly.
‘Far from it, if I was with money I wouldn’t be with you would I?’ Sonnet said back, munching on the dried fruits in one of the bags she had bought. They had only been out of the inn and travelling a mere five minutes and already she was hungry again. It was never this bad before, what was causing her to want to eat more so quickly? It wasn’t exactly going to do wonders for her ever expanding figure.
‘True enough. Anyhow, we’ll be there soon. I’ll leave you to eat.’ Slow Coach said. Sonnet decided to concentrate on filling her stomach with the contents of the food bags. As Slow Coach had said, she would at least be in Mochari before the end of the day. Her first plans were to find a jeweller and see what she could do with the pin. Right now, she had nothing on her mind but eating.
-
Mochari was a moderately sized city, not the biggest in the world but it had large stone walls, plenty of protection and creatures of all shapes and sizes. About what you’d expect from any other city really. Sonnet had heard of the place, sure, but she had never made a concerted effort to actually visit. She said goodbye to Slow Coach outside the gates and made her way in. Here, stares and glances at her were less common place as there was more creatures of a bigger size here anyway. The nobility tended to gather inside cities so Sonnet did not look so much out of place as she had in the tiny town of Ditchwater.
After asking around a few different times, eventually an elf was able to point her in the direction of the jeweller. In a city, these places often stood out a mile anyhow, it was often the only somewhat clean and presentable looking establishment that common folk could get anywhere near. That was not to say that creatures that owned these stores didn’t take care, on entering Sonnet took note of the two large and imposing looking minotaur guards that were stationed outside. When she told them she had business, they let her in.
‘Interesting, it is small. Unfortunately Ruby’s are not worth a great deal. I’d offer you five gold, on account of the damage.’ the jeweller had said to Sonnet.
‘Damage?’ Sonnet had asked, she had looked over the pin herself and hadn’t really noticed anything.
‘Yes, on the underside of the casting where the ruby is inset. It looks perhaps like it has been dropped at some stage?’ the jeweller asked. ‘I hope it isn’t magical. That can cause issues with whatever magic is woven into it.’ he had finished. ‘Do you want to sell it?’
‘It’s not magical as far as I am aware. I think I’ll keep it. Perhaps even with the damage it will be worth something later in my life.’ Sonnet replied, placing the pin back on the front of her bard’s outfit. ‘Thank you for your time.’
She left the shop, an entire day’s travelling which had turned out to be somewhat worthless. Still at least she had peace of mind and knew it was worth keeping a little. Five gold wasn’t exactly a small amount to turn her nose up at, but perhaps she might come across a different jeweller in another city somewhere down the line and she could get ten if they didn’t notice the damage to the pin.
Sonnet had not been out of the cart with Slow Coach very long but she was already thinking about food. She had easily gone through the bags she had gotten at the inn and now, she was in a city. Smells (not all of them pleasant ones) wafted through the air and settled in her nostrils, telling her brain that she was indeed very hungry once again.
The thing was, Sonnet had spent practically all her money. Thievery wasn’t her way either so she wasn’t going to go around stealing her next meal either. She still had her lyre, the city was full of inns too. Places like this always were, they served as a hub for all the weary travellers to get a bed for the night and some food in their bellies. Trotting down a busy street and turning a corner, Sonnet immediately spotted one on the corner, fancifully titled The World's End. Without a second thought the mare made her way inside and asked if they were in need of entertainment for the night. Thankfully they were and she quickly started the process of negotiating for a meal now and music to follow later.
For a time, Sonnet saw no real reason to leave Mochari. She was still somewhat debating whether or not to go back to the jeweller even though she had already made her decision. The city was also alive, buzzing even with the amount of creatures that came and went every day with plenty of residents too. She was enjoying the little break in adventuring that was keeping her out of danger. It reminded her a little of her younger days before she had set out into the world. She’d definitely get back to it eventually, but a rest from running around monster filled dungeons was always welcome. A week or so had passed and she was finding that the longer she stayed here the more comfortable she was getting in the city. Of course there was an argument to be made that cities were dangerous places, but she quickly made out where to stick to keep safe and where to avoid. That was never too complicated to work out in any place.
Each day she stayed too, she was starting to look more and more like those aristocrats that made up the upper class too. Sonnet had spent her time moving from inn to inn to provide entertainment and each time she had moved on, she had ‘negotiated’ with the owners a bigger meal for her performance each time, craftily explaining that the previous place had not paid her enough. Payment of course was as much food as she could get her greedy hooves on and the damaged pin meant that each day the magic seeping out of it influencing her mind and making her gluttony worse meant that she had to satisfy it. The mention of it being damaged was of course, now long gone from her head. In fact she could hardly remember the conversation.
Tonight she was playing in The Devil’s Punchbowl. A somewhat more seedy establishment right on the edge of the safe area, it was a mixture of clients. Some you wouldn’t trust to help you cross the streets and the others the regular city folk who wanted somewhere perhaps they could witness a fight or two, as well as get a cheap jug of mead. Sonnet was sitting at a table, it was a few hours before her performance and her agreed upon ‘payment’ of several large pies, a whole host of potatoes prepared in different ways and a large ice cream dessert had just been placed on the table by the owner.
‘I hope you’re worth it.’ was all they mumbled before heading back to the kitchen.
‘Oh trust me, tonight’s performance will be one for the books.’ Sonnet replied, greedily licking her lips and staring at the food in front of her. More and more things were starting to fake from her mind like her performance, which was all that was keeping her in food. Right now though, all she had in front of her was nothing but calories as she saw it.
The weight Sonnet had gained thanks to the more than broken magical effects of the pin was showing more than she knew and affecting her in ways that just weren’t registering on a conscious level for her. After a week of indulging herself and using her charisma to get as much as food as her greedy hooves could handle, she was starting to look and feel more like a whale than a pony.
Her bard’s dress was starting to form an uncountable amount of rips where the material had struggled to contain her bulbous blubber that now poked out of it at every opportunity possible. The belt she wore was now in her carrying pouch, it had snapped off several nights ago and whilst at the time Sonnet had been rather aware of it happening, she had simply stuffed it away and made a mental note to have it let out. The thing was, even having it let out to double her waistline now was going to be nowhere near enough.
Her massive blubbery belly was currently pushing up against the table she was sat at eating from, in fact Sonnet had to lean forward a rather considerable amount to actually reach the food she was eating. Leaning her entire body forward, hunched over that mount of blorpy blubber she wished she had more magical powers than just musical ones, it would have perhaps helped her to feed herself if she could levitate the food over towards her mouth rather than having to reach for everything that caused other patrons to stare and observe her stuffing her face with an absolutely incredible amount of gusto. As soon as a slice of pie vanished, she was immediately stuffing in another, unconsciously trying to sate a never ending appetite that the gluttonous mare would never fulfil as long as that broach was on her clothes.
The next thing was her unintended belch, which broke the low chatter of the room and stopped all the patrons talking to turn and look at her, but Sonnet didn’t really care. She still had quite a feast in front of her. Thankfully she wasn’t sitting on any kind of furniture or that would have been another spectacle, cracking under her massive cheeks like kindling as there was little now that could hold up such a massive weight. Even the bigger creatures of the city seemed impressed when they saw her, what with things everywhere being built to fit creatures of different sizes and weights. The thing was, Sonnet’s rear was now more like two perfectly formed cannon balls, built to destroy anything that came into contact with them. She was using them as her seat, pushing more and more forward into the table to reach the last scraps of food over towards the farthest edge.
Finally she finished, with another ‘UrrrrrrrRRRRRRRAAAAaaaaapppppp!’ and a smile, turning to the owner who was now behind the bar stating ‘Delicious, got anymore?’ that was met with a roll of eyes.
-
Another week passed and this time, Sonnet was playing at The Three Daggers inn.
As the name suggested, it was absolutely in the seedier part of the city. Sonnet had by this stage basically eaten her way through all of the ‘proper’ establishments in the good part of town. Once they had her entertain the guests in the evening (which by now, was consisting of a mere thirty minutes of laboured playing, followed by Sonnet asking for more food) they realised that the amount of food she was consuming wasn’t exactly tying up with the entertainment she had been providing in exchange for the huge mountain of food she had practically demanded. Word had gotten around, but not yet to the pubs where the city’s thieves and less desirables made their homes.
Right now it was pre-show and Sonnet was once more enjoying a rather massive meal. It seemed despite the fact these places were on a side of town which, well, resembled some sort of mix between a sewer and a mud bog they weren’t exactly short of food. It was much cheaper too, the owners needing to provide for poorer city dwellers. But for those with the bargaining power of Sonnet, the good stuff came out with ease. She was halfway through a rather large jug of mead and her second full loaf of stuffed bread when she felt a body park itself beside her. It wasn’t the owner.
‘Evening miss. Bard are we?’ came the voice.
Sonnet, mouth still full, turned her head to see who had joined her. Chewing as she observed the figure, she made out it was an orc of all creatures. He looked fairly standard for any orc. Somewhat buff and muscled wearing just about enough clothes to cover the necessaries but still show off an impressive physique to make himself look imposing. He wore an eyepatch over his right eye and had a dagger gripped in his left hand. He was almost the polar opposite of Sonnet, who by this stage was verging herself on immobility through all the meals she had consumed. His question was met by a growl from her belly as Sonnet swallowed and turned to face the newcomer.
‘Bard yes. Can I help you?’ she asked, immediately going back to taking a mouthful of the bread. The orc just smiled, he had her attention, if only a fraction of it.
‘Nice pin on the tattered remains of yer outfit. Couldn’t help noticing it from the bar. Hand it over nice and quiet like and you won’t have any trouble.’ the orc said, grinning as he raised the blade to Sonnet’s face to show he wasn’t messing around. Sonnet simply swallowed.
‘Hold that thought. Just let me finish this.’ she replied.
‘I don’t think you understand, I’m robbing you. What, you think I’m going to just sit here while you finish stuffing your face you greedy mare? You’re big enough to feed a family of dragons as it is.’ the orc scoffed. He saw Sonnet this time grin, finishing the mouthful she had and turning to face him properly.
‘Big enough huh? I think you’re right there. That’s why you’re not going to get away with this, in fact you’re not going to get away with many bones intact.’ Sonnet laughed.
‘Many what? Bones...Arggghhh!’ the orc cried out in pain, he suddenly felt an incredible weight leaning on his legs and it only got worse the more Sonnet leaned into him, she had caught him with her right flank and was just adding more and more pressure as she slowly flopped all her pounds over the poor helpless orc who had immediately dropped his dagger to grab at his legs. She watched in pleasure as the poor thing squirmed under her, trying to get free. Then there was a crunch and a loud yell of pain. Now she had not only his but the entire bar's attention. This was a good way of letting everyone know she wasn’t to be trifled with.
‘I’d say that was your ankle. Do you want the rest of your bones crushed under me?’ Sonnet teased him with a little wiggle of her massively rotund ass. This was probably the only time she had seen a creature really beg for mercy as the orc started to first shout obscenities, but then relented once she put a little more pressure on.
‘You fat blob! How can you weigh so much! It’s like being crushed by an elephant! Fine...fine! Just get OFF ME!’ he yelled, apparently despite being a thief by nature, this orc didn’t have much of a pain threshold.
‘I won’t ask how you know what being crushed by an elephant is like. Now I’m keeping the pin and your dagger, don’t even think of picking it up.’ Sonnet simply said, shifting her weight back off the orc as he wiggled out from underneath her as fast as he could. He stood up, forgetting the broken ankle for a moment and instantly was reminded when his leg collapsed as he winced in pain. Hobbling out of the inn, he only had one more thing to say.
‘You’re a walking weapon, fatty!’ he hurled the insult at Sonnet then left, the murmur of chatter returning to the room as Sonnet returned to her meal.
‘Barely walking actually, but I manage.’ Sonnet said to herself. She still had her meal left to eat, now a little colder as she had been rudely interrupted. The mare was quite impressed. She actually started to wonder how much longer she could go before her appetite would vanquish itself, but no matter how much she ate, she was still hungry. Her bard’s outfit was in tatters, only strips remaining as fat was practically pressing out of every angle of the remaining material. Even her shoes were starting to split open as she tried to cram ham-like thighs into the things. She knew word of her ‘attack’ would travel fast too, she was assured a meal in every inn this side of the city for a while at least. Her mind began to wander as she chewed, wondering where to head to next.
-
‘Huff… huff…’
Friday, the third week of Sonnet’s stay in Mochari. She had become somewhat of a figure in the city. The mare that could destroy any opponent with a simple shift of weight. She couldn’t believe more creatures had tried to rob her of the pin after the orc. Each one had tried and of course, failed. Nothing liked to have bones crushed.
Right now however, she was huffing her way towards a lone table piled high with food. The mere mention now of Sonnet coming to play at your location meant buying in enough food to feed a hungry family for a month. She didn’t even bother negotiating anymore, she just expected it to be ready and waiting for her the moment she squeezed her jiggly ass through the front door and with a great deal of effort, wobbled her blobby frame towards the waiting food. The owners of The Black Swan had done exactly that and Sonnet was pleased to see such a huge offering waiting for her, which she wasted no time in consuming.
She had a permanent residence now in a local establishment, she didn’t even bring her lyre with her anymore to play. Her hooves were too fat to pluck the individual chords anyhow. She had a new spectacle to entertain everyone with and that was her excessive eating. Patrons would marvel at her size, watch as her fat jiggled with every bite she took of the food. Some of them would even order things from the bar specifically and have it sent over just to get a glimpse of a few seconds of her working her jaw and devouring the meal they had sent her. That’s all it was too, a few seconds at best. Nothing lasted very long in front of Sonnet, which is why every time she stopped at an inn they had as much food as they could pile up waiting for her, to keep her there as long as she could to draw the crowds in. A few pies would be gone in under a minute so such little food for her was absolutely pointless.
The descent into near immobility had been rather lovely actually for Sonnet. It felt as though it was natural, ever since she had put that pin on her outfit eating this much had just felt natural. She was always hungry. Every bite of food felt incredibly satisfying, at least for a few seconds until she took a new bite of whatever awaited her next. As soon as she stopped eating she wanted more.
Her figure was something else. Everything had bulked out and fattened up to support a pony of her size. She knew where was in the city now by the feel of the cobbles on her belly as it dragged along the floor beneath her legs. Those almost useless legs that were somehow still making contact with the floor as she heaved herself along to wherever she was heading next to stuff her face. Her wing that was injured was now well rested and back to full strength, not that it would be of any use really. There was no way she was going to lift herself off the floor at the size she was. She could just about flap them a little, not that she did because that was effort and energy she didn’t need to expend. Her rear too, her ‘weapon’ so to speak, two blubbery cheeks of bulbosity that hardly stopped moving if she was, rising high over the rear of her head and trapping her tail well between her cheeks.
As Sonnet finished whatever number pie she was consuming, another plate being brought and set down near her ‘From a fan, the kobold sitting near the bar.’ she was told, which she ignored, she felt a little twinge and heard a familiar ripping noise. It was another part of the outfit she had on giving way. She looked down, over a rather thick, donut-like neck roll to try to observe what part of the outfit had gone. Odd, she couldn’t see the pin anymore.
Her appetite remained however, a mare of her size needed oh so much food. She couldn’t stop, she was ravenous. The pin itself had been lost in one of her fat folds, wedged now in her many and uncountable rolls. It seemed Sonnet would, unbeknownst to her, always feel hungry whether she wanted to or not. The damaged magical item would keep her eating and eating for as long as she could manage to cram food down her throat. It wasn’t like she was short of places to go or things to eat however in Mochari. She had become an entertainer for the crowds, all of them fascinated by her ability to put away so much food in front of their eyes and somehow keep going too.
Sonnet grinned a greedy grin as she took a small pause to burp.
‘UUUURRBBWAAAAARRRPPPP!’
There was a small cheer of admiration as the mare freed up a little room with the release, then went right back to demolishing the rest of her food. The seedy inns weren’t the only option left to her now. It seemed the ones she had visited previously had gotten wind of her unique form of entertainment and where before it was a nuisance, now they wanted her back in. She had gotten offers from all over the city, even private banquets and functions where they would feed her for the curiosity of the guests. Sonnet had her pick of where to go and what to eat. It was heavenly.
For now, she had a mountain of food in front of her and was surrounded by adoring fans. The thoughts of adventuring were far from her mind. But she had heard that other places had even greater spoils from kitchens. Perhaps if she tired of Mochari and its food she would take up adventuring again, perhaps even pick up the lyre. The thing was, that didn’t seem to her to be happening any time soon.
