The moment Gwen stepped into the Wagging Tail Inn she was overwhelmed by a nostalgic sense of relaxation, the wear of her travels turned into a soreness that was just begging to be treated by a warm meal, a warm bath, and a warm bed, combined with a breakfast so late that it flirted with being called lunch. For a large part of her life, she had lived out of taverns, and many of her happiest memories came from sharing food and drinks with whatever party she had managed to drag along with her to clear out some monsters. The Wagging Tail was not special in that regard, it was the same as every other inn she had gone to.

And that made it perfect.

“Take a seat!” A beastkin shouted from behind the long bar that extended opposite the entrance. She had long sky-blue hair that was tied into a ponytail that fell over one of her shoulders as she tended to one of the few patrons at the bar, an older man that looked like he had nothing better to do but chase skirts and drink all day. The woman’s long slender tail swished back and forth in annoyance, while one of her ears twitched slightly as the old man went on and on about something. “I’ll be with you in a minute.”

Gwen nodded and headed towards one of the empty round tables that were scattered about the floor in a haphazard manner, with some being closer than others with only a clear line to the bar and stairs acting like an invisible barrier between two sections of the dining area. A large fireplace sat against one wall, the signs of last night's fire were still visible through a few glowing embers that had yet to extinguish.

The upstairs was separated by a simple staircase that likely ran above the storage, and a long hallway ran from the mid stairs all the way to the last room of the building before it turned dove back, likely to another set of rooms that were above the kitchen where they could share the warmth of the stove and chimney. Several signs hung from the hallway, going over what was for sale and what was on the menu for the day.

Gwen had barely enough time to properly settle in her seat before she saw the blue-haired woman come walking over, her tail was still swishing from side to side, even as she put on a pleasant look on her face. It was the kind of look that every innkeeper kept up their sleeves, equal parts welcoming and firm.

“Well, aren’t you a new face,” The woman said sweetly, a single hand on her hip “Don’t get many strangers in these parts, but, what can I do for you.”

“Oh, uhh, well I,” She fumbled with her pocket and pulled out Gracie’s note. “I was told to uhh give this to Gracie’s—”

The woman’s cat-like-ears went back and her tail slapped violently against a nearby table as she snatched the note from Gwen’s hands. Her face quickly soured as she read it before she rolled her eyes and let out a sigh. “I swear, that woman.”

“If it’s a problem I can just,”

“Oh, you’re not the problem,” the woman said and marched over to the window and then glared down the street in the vague direction where Gracie likely was. After an awkwardly long glare, the woman returned, her sweet smile was in action once again, and her tail seemed to be moving more naturally. “My mother has a habit of making everyone’s business her business.”

“I, uh, sorry.”

The woman rolled her eyes and let out another sigh. “Don’t go apologizing for nothing, you’ll get one free meal, but, I’m expecting you to shack up with us, so, then Ms. Gwen the Breaker, what'll it be, and why is it the chef’s special?”

“Because it’s fresh?” Gwen shrugged in response, she had eaten at enough Inns to know that whatever was the chef’s special was probably going to be the best thing that they were serving today, even if it was just generally some kind of soup or stew. And when a free meal was offered it was probably best to ask for something that was already being cooked.

“Right you are, I’ll even give you an extra roll.” The woman gave a sly wink. “I’m Chloe by the way.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Chloe, I’m Gwen, though I guess the note already told you that…” Gwen paused as she had been so used to being given papers to give to someone else that she hadn’t actually bothered reading the note Gracie gave her. Many of the early novice quests were being a bit more than an armed messenger in more secure areas that just handing off the papers had become second nature since most of the time they were just quite boring. “What exactly did that note say?”

Chloe gave a short laugh and tucked the note between the modest amount of cleavage her uniform provided her. “That you’re going to make my husband's day, give that prick of a mayor a headache, that you’re look’n to make a farm, you’re a breaker, and that I need to throw my kids at you until you take one with you.”

Gwen sunk into her chair and felt her face burn, especially the tips of her ears. “Is it normal for everyone I meet to try and set me up with someone?”

“Only if they’re a pain in the ass like my mother, besides, you’re pretty enough, I don’t think you’ll need much help in that department.” Chloe sighed and drummed her fingers along the chair before she bit her lip. “Clover! Get down here and serve us some stew!”

There was a thump and a bang from above and Chloe turned back toward the bar. “My daughter.”

The old man gave a dry laugh from the bar and had his eyes locked on the staircase while he nursed his drink. Though Chloe made sure to give him a very firm smack on the head.

Clover was a beastkin in the same way that her mother was, a long slender tail that moved with purpose behind her, and a pair of feline ears that perked up when her blue eyes met Gwen’s. The girl had short mint green that was cut just above her shoulders, though it was long enough in the front for two trails of hair that framed her face to touch her collar bones. She was dressed as her mother was, a long thick dress that went past her boots, complete with a simple blouse with open shoulders, and was held tight by a leather bodice that had the strings pinched tight to emphasize her waist.

She could see a clear line of lineage between Gracie, Chloe, and Clover now that she had seen all three, they all had the same nose, and their eyes shared the same shape.

But that wasn’t what really drew Gwen’s gaze as she fully came to understand what Gracie had been talking about.

Rank 10 breasts was an accurate description.

They were impressive.

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

Clover gave her a delightful smile that was more genuine than her mother’s though it turned into a quick shot of disgust as Clover saw the man at the bar. She walked a wide breadth around him before she vanished into the kitchen, exchanging a few words with her mother along the way.

Before long, Clover emerged once more, a tray of food balanced in one hand and Gwen could feel her stomach ready itself for a proper meal.

“Here, ya’are,” With an exceptional amount of grace Clover placed a large bowl of a hearty stew in front of Gwen, visible chunks of potatoes, carrots, ferin, and meat could be seen floating in the dark brown broth. Two rolls were placed beside it along with a spoon and fork that were stained from years of heavy use. The mug sloshed with a slightly sweet cider smell.

“Thank you,” No sooner had Gwen spoken those words than she had set to tearing apart the bread and dunking it into the soup, carefully using the spoon to keep a bit of meat pressed against it before swallowing it whole. The beef was tender, having been cooked to the point where it was ready to melt at the slightest bit of touch and the bread made an excellent vessel for the rich salty broth that was overflowing with flavor.

Stress fled her body as nostalgia flooded into her body. Her eyes rolled and she found herself chewing slowly just to enjoy the mixture of textures and flavors in her mouth.

“Well then, I’ll tell the chef you enjoyed it.” Clover’s chuckle made Gwen keenly aware that Clover was still standing there with a playful smile on her face that reminded Gwen of a cat that was eager to pounce on whatever happened to look fun. With no ceremony whatsoever Clover reached into her cleavage and pulled out a key that had a large leather tag attached to it and placed it near the mug. “And here’s the key to your room, number three.”

Clover pointed upstairs, and then down the hall before she pointed to the left, “It’s the furthest room to the left up there, you’ll have a window if that’s your fancy, oh, and when you’re aching for a bath let me and my ma know and we’ll get you set up in there, though, try not to do it when the rush comes in.”

“I’ll,” Gwen paused and swallowed the slightly chewed food that had been stuck in the back of her throat and then coughed slightly. “I’ll be sure not to be a bother.”

“Well, that already makes you a great customer.” Clover’s blue eyes twinkled as she sat down, much closer than Chloe had, and even scooted her chair closer. “So, is it true?”

She just got here. Were there already rumors about her?

“Oh, sorry,” Clover pressed her hand against the table, “Are you one of the types that like to eat silently? I mean I get it, I’m—”

“No, no, it's fine,” Gwen waved her bread roll around. “I’m just not sure what you’re talking about.”

“That you’re a breaker!” Clover took her seat back and took a quick glance towards the door. “I mean, my mom said you are, so you are right?”

“Uhh yeah, well, I mean, I’m level 50, but, uh, I don’t think I’m much of a breaker at the moment.” Mostly because she just wanted to do something else, and she was still trying to figure out what life was like without being bound to a demonic pact. “I’m kind of retired.”

“That’s so cool!” Clover leaned forward on the table, as her face lit up with genuine interest. “What class are you? How old are you? You don’t look that old, like, most of the level 40s in town are pretty old. You look like you’re barely older than me! And wait, how long were you a breaker.”

“Uhh, well, I’m a level 50 warlock,” Gwen dipped her bread into the stew once more letting it soak up even more of the brother while she grabbed a spoonful of the veggies and chomped them down in one swift bite. The carrots were just a step or two above mush, firm enough to not be gross but soft enough that they practically melted in her mouth. “And, I’m 28, and I was a breaker for almost six years.”

Clover’s mouth dropped and she clapped both of her hands over her ears pushing them flat against her head, while her tail stood straight and bristled. Her ears plopped back to their surprised position before her leather hands dropped to the table. “Wait, that means that you hit level 50 when you were 22?”

“Uhh, yeah, around then.” If she was honest she hardly remembered hitting level 50, her time spent in the northern wilds attempting to tame the dungeon of Frozen Flame had been a slurry of bitter-cold blizzards.

“That means you hit level 50 when you were two years older than me!” Clover pointed at herself, “I’m barely half that! How on earth did you level so fast? I don’t get it.”

This was a question that she got asked a lot. Most breakers did, especially the younger ones like herself. The answer was simple, but it was rarely accepted. Breakers were just different. Not in terms of stats, not in terms of ability, or classes, hell everyone could follow one of the King’s guides and be able to make decent progress, but, for a breaker, they just had a thirst for growth that had them putting their lives on the line until they could reach level 50. And even that wasn’t enough. They wanted more.

That’s why they were trying so hard to break through to level 100.

“I just, uhh,” Gwen shrugged reflexively as she couldn’t find the right words that wouldn’t just be pushed aside. “Well, I mean, I just… I just didn’t stop.”

Chloe blinked at her, even with that lame answer the girl’s eyes were practically sparkling. “So, like, you just kept going on quests, kept going on adventures, and just kept fighting and training?”

“Uhh, yeah.”

Chloe’s shoulders slumped and she let out a small whimper. “That sounds so hard.”

“And dangerous.” Gwen snapped her fingers and scooped up the bread into her mouth before she downed it with a swig of the slightly bitter cider. “I almost died a lot.”

And saw a lot of death.

“Yeah, I bet, especially if you’re just constantly grinding like that.” Chloe gave a small shrug as though she had simply accepted her fate. “Oh well, anyways, I bet my dad’s going to be super happy you’re around.”

“Yeah, your mom mentioned that, who is your dad?”

“Oh, he’s the Marshal of the town, so I think that means you’re going to be meeting him eventually, and he’s probably going to be excited that there’s a breaker in town now.”

Apparently, this family was a bit more well-connected than Gracie had originally let on.

“I guess I’ll find out tomorrow.” Gwen gave a small shrug. “I think it’s getting a bit late and I’ve been walking all day.”

A woman walked down from the top floor, her outfit was simple but incredibly well made with little to no wear on it, and fitted her slender body perfectly. Her light brown pants were tucked into her leather boots that had just enough wear on them to not be considered new, and the pure white blouse she wore was hard to look away from with how it seemed to hug her body like a cloud. Where her blouse met her pants was a long ruby-red sash that was wrapped around several times before the end fell to the side just above her knee. A single leather belt was perfectly balanced on her hips even as it carried the weight of a rapier.

By all accounts, the woman gave off the aura of someone important, someone regal, someone royal. And were it not for the bags under her eyes and the slightly annoyed look that adorned her face she could easily be considered a beauty, though whether or not she could beat out Clover’s smile was another story.

However, the most telling thing about this woman was her hair. It was a rich, deep, red that seemed to make everything around her that much duller with how vibrant this red was. Even the red sash she wore around her waist seemed to be ashamed of its failure to imitate the color. It was a color that many in the kingdom knew all too well, it was a sign of royalty.

There were other factors as well, the purple eyes, and refined aura, but the red hair was the biggest signal.

This woman was one of the hundred or so princesses and princes that were in line for a throne held by an immortal king. Gwen had seen a few in her time, many of them were breakers trying to earn the right to be considered the next in line, but, this one seemed to be familiar, though Gwen honestly couldn’t remember where she had seen her exactly. Or if she was just gathering up all the royals she had met and fusing them into one person.

“Op,” Clover sprung from her seat and looked towards the woman who was taking a seat across the inn at a smaller, more private table. “Gotta take care of that, oh, by the way, I’m Clover.”

“Gwen,” Gwen nodded and glanced towards the princess once more before she held Clover’s gaze.

“Gwen, nice name, anyways, I’ll go take care of that and see about getting you a bath ya?”

There was a noticeable bounce in Clover’s step that was impossible not to smile at.