Bonus Chapter: The Other Possibilities
Very much not canon! Cinnamon Nun “What in the world is happening?” The mayor’s voice rang out across the town square.His week had been... a little on the hectic side. That much was normal. It was the Rose’s Bell festival week, or at least, the week leading up to the one-day festival. That meant merchants and spectators and people from every smaller town in the region all coming to Rosenbell for a day or two. Every year was a bit of a mess, with arguments sparking and a few people always getting too fond of their drink. It was worth it, of course, but still.And then this year a dragon had come to demand cattle and food and tribute. He thought his heart would stop right then and there. They’d been saved by a trio of young explorers of all things, but he figured it was a near thing. Then he’d been told that there was an entire troupe of children making a mess of the town square just before construction of the stages was set to begin. There were skinny preteens grouped up together to one side smoking, and toddlers running around while screaming. More of them were jumping up and down on... on something that the mayor suspected was a person. To one side, a group of three girls were pinning an older teen against a wall, obviously making her very uncomfortable, and in the middle of it all, right where the mayor would expect anyone responsible for the tiny disaster to be, was a nun.No, not a nun, he realized. The young woman was too young, and her habit was actually little more than a black and white towel draped over her head.She was running in circles trying to catch a pair of boys who were chanting rather vulgar swears. “What is happening?” he asked. When it became obvious the no one would answer, the older gentleman took in a deep, deep breath and screamed. “What. Is. Happening!” The children froze up. Smiling, the mayor congratulated himself on still having a good pair of lungs before, with a twitch of his mustache, he zeroed in on the one he suspected was responsible. “You,” he said pointing at the would-be nun. “Please do explain.”It took only a moment more for him to recognize the women as the one that had roared (quite fearsomely) at the dragon the day prior.“Ah,” she began. “Um. See, I got a nun class?”“Yes?” he asked. That didn’t explain anything.“And I figured I’d help out at the orphanage, because that’s what nuns do? And I could teach all these kids about the magic of friendship?”He looked around at the mess they’d made. “You seem to have failed,” he said.The woman’s eyes teared up. “They didn’t want to listen. The lady at the orphanage said to use a ruler but, but I can’t do that!”“Didn’t you have help?” he asked. “There are... twenty kids here!” The girl pointed to the side where her shy friend was hiding from the still suspicious looks of three girls, then she pointed to a pile of feathers that he suspected was once a harpy. “They, they tried. But the children! Oh, it was awful!” The mayor sighed. At least this filled the quota for strange things happening on the Rose’s Bell festival week.
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Buns of SteelAwen didn’t know why Broccoli had asked her to meet her in the yard behind the inn. She also didn’t know why Broccoli had asked Awen to find a stick and a cast-iron pan. Not knowing didn’t matter though. Broccoli was the coolest, nicest, most kind person that Awen had ever met, and if she asked to meet outside, then Awen would do that.She would do a lot more than that too, but that kind of thinking was wrong and undignified and immoral, and it made her feel faint and all fuzzy inside.It was probably for the best that she stepped outside where the air was cooler and much nicer to breath. It only took a glance around to find Broccoli.And then Awen stopped to stare at her heroine. Broccoli was currently sitting on the ground, an expression somewhere between a pout and a scowl on her face.The young woman got up and then, with a small hop, jumped onto a small picnic table set under the shade of a grand tree. She stood atop the table, bent halfway forwards, then tipped backwards.“Awa!” Awen called out. It’s not what she wanted to say. She wanted to shout a warning, but whenever she tried to say things in a hurry, things twisted up between her brain and her tongue and it was always that cursed pair of syllables that escaped.It’s why she couldn’t shout a proper warning as Broccoli fell backwards and, munich to Awen’s surprise, landed on the ground rear-first with the dull thump of something hard impacting the dirt.“Hmm,” Broccoli said.Awen unfroze a moment later and rushed over, pan and stick still in hand. “Are you okay?” she asked.Broccoli looked up to her, big green eyes filled with barely contained mirth. “Awen! You’re here.”“Y-yes, but are you okay?” Awen asked.“Oh, I’m fine,” Broccoli said a moment before bouncing back onto her feet. “I’m testing out a new skill! It’s a class skill.”“For, um, your Buns of Steel class?” Awen guessed. She worked hard to keep her eyes on Broccoli’s. It was hard. She could melt into those eyes so easily, and she was sure that someone as friendly and cool and wonderful as Broccoli wouldn’t make the slightest fuss about it.Broccoli nodded. “Yeah. Ohh, and you got my stuff, neat. Do you have a few minutes to help me?” Awen nodded, afraid of the terrible things she might say if she could speak.“Neat!” Then Broccoli leaned onto the table with one arm, bent over at a ninety degree angle with her legs shoulder width apart. “Smack my bum please.”“Awa.”This time the awa was barely even noticed. It wasn’t as if she was going to say anything intelligible anyway, her mind was far, far too busy elsewhere.Broccoli turned around to stare at her, big guileless eyes still filled with mirth. “Start with the stick, we can work out way up to the pan after.”“Awa.”The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.“Oh, right.” Broccoli reached back and flipped her skirt up. “Is that better? I need to see just how-steel like these buns are, you know?”"Awa?!""Come on, Awen, spank me."The only impact was Awen’s as she landed back-first onto the courtyard’s ground.
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Cinnamon BurnTo Broccoli Bunch, the world was a place of wonder and joy. The skies were filled with fluffy candy cane clouds and the songs of birds accompanied the joyful calls of the people she crossed.Pretty houses with bright walls flew by as she skipped and hopped along, spreading cleanliness and joy with every step. And through it all, the World itself rewarded her.Congratulations! You have spread the Flames of Joy to Rosenbell Villager, level 10. To those horrified people looking onto the scene, there was no joy, not happy smiles, and nothing but terror, terror and the ever burning fires of unholy magics. “We need more water!” a mage screamed. He tried to pull more from the city well, but there was nothing but dust left within.“Are you thirsty, sir?” a kind, happy voice asked. He turned and beheld a smiling nightmare made flesh. “No, no no no!” “Here, let me clean your mouth out!” His last cries were burned from his lungs. The girl, satisfied that she’d helped another new friend, skipped on ahead, firing little burst of cleansing magic with every skip. The whole city was such a bright and festive place. It even smelled like roasting meat! She saw people gathering at a building down the road. Perhaps that was where the delicious smells were coming from?With a hop, she began to skip on over. She was sure she could make friends and maybe grab a bite while she was at it!
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Play Bunny“So?” Amaryllis asked.She’s watched Broccoli sprout a pair of ears, and even a small tuft of brown fur over her rear, all in the time it took most people to yawn. It was... interesting magic, to say the least. A base creature-and no matter what the humans said, she doubted they were the only origin of intelligent races-could evolve into something slightly new. If they bred true then there would be entire new communities that sprouted from nothing.That usually required at an entire group have the same class, or very similar ones. Like the Grenouille and their fabled ‘Frog’ dungeon. She’d never expected to see that kind of evolution with her own two eyes, but perhaps that was par for the course when dealing with the like of a Riftwalker... or a Broccoli Bunch.“I feel... warm,” Broccoli said after she’d finished tugging at her ears while looking in the mirror. “Not bad warm, but warm-warm.”“Awa, maybe, um, buns have higher body temperatures?” Awen tried.It was an astute observation. Amaryllis nodded along. “That’s distinctly possible,” she said. “I’ll have to find a few books to narrow things down. I just hope you didn’t catch a fever at the same time as you changed races. It would be just like you to get sick like that.” amaryllis doubted there were any good apothecaries in such a backwater. She’d need to run back into her ring’s range, order something from a proper, civilized place, and then run back to give it to Broccoli.“Nah, I think I’m okay,” Broccoli said. “Health’s at one hundred percent and all.” She sighed, tugged at the nape of her neck, then with a shrug took off the top layer of her armour.“Hrm, well I suppose it’s nothing,” Amaryllis said.“Yeah,” Broccoli agreed as she took off her shirt.Awen squeaked next to her and covered her eyes, but Amaryllis didn’t care. Human... Bun physiology was only really interesting in a sort of scientific fashion. “So hot right now,” Broccoli said as she stripped out of her skirt. Awen started stuttering while Amaryllis worked hard to put two and two together. The result wasn’t promising.“H-hey, Awen?” Broccoli asked.“Yes?” Awen said past the hands she had plastered over her face.“Wanna play... a game?” “Wh-what kind of game?” Awen asked.Broccoli shifted on the spot. “I dunno. Monopoly or something.”That was it. Amaryllis was going to learn a spell that allowed her to summon cold water.
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Cinnamon Bum “I dunno, man,” Broc B. said from her spot on the couch. Who, exactly, had brought the couch out into the town square was anyone’s guess. “Just, like, chill out, you know?”“Yeah,” Rhawrexdee said. “Yeah, we all need more chill.”The dragon dragon took a hit from Broccoli’s cinnamon bun bong and let it out as a plume of dancing smoke.“Yeah.”Off to one side, Amaryllis fumed.
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Cinnamon Bun PunAmaryllis glared at... at the girl who’d somehow become her best friend. “So?” she asked. “Are you done being a complete moron?”Broccoli, who was currently tied to a chair with a piece of rope in her mouth, nodded rapidly. “Aw... should I, um, untie her?” Awen asked.“Certainly,” Amaryllis said.The little mechanic fumbled with the ropes for a bit, showing a surprising level of expertise with them until they came loose and Broccoli was able to talk once more.“Oh, wow, thanks!” Broccoli said. So far, Amaryllis though, so good. “So, why did you tie me up?”“To stop you from talking,” Amaryllis said.Broccoli blinked. “Talking? Did I make a tit of myself?”Amaryllis’ eyes narrowed. “Because being tied up like this is super unpheasent. I feel like a sitting duck. And it’s not like I did anything fowl enough to deserve getting tied!” “Should, should I tied her back up?” Awen asked.“Oh no,” Broccoli said. “As Awazing as you are with that rope, Awen, I’d really knot have it around my mouth again. No! I haven't been knotty, I swear!”Amaryllis nodded to Awen and watched as Broccoli struggled against being tied all over again. She wondered... hoped there was a cure to the terrible affliction that had captured her friend.
Chapter One Hundred and Three — The Lowest Low
Chapter One Hundred and Three — The Lowest Low I hummed to myself as I took out my kettle and set it on the table. The inn people had left a pitcher of water for us to use, so I didn’t have to worry about filling it. I still used a bit of cleaning magic on the water, just in case.“So, Booksie,” I asked as I fished around my backpack for some chamomile. “Where are you staying?”“Ah, well, that’s... when Miss Albatross found me, I was looking to sell a few books. I intended to purchase an inn room for the night.”“Is Rosenbell a big market for books?” I asked.“No,” Booksie said.She was sitting on the bed that Amaryllis had picked for herself, hands under her thighs and focus, more often than not, on the floor.“It was rather anemic,” Amaryllis said. “The selection they did have was lacking, and geared more towards... whatever it is that interests the humans around here. Though I did find a few books on puppetry. It’s something of a local hobby.”“Neat,” I said as I added leaves to the tea and started to pour mana into my kettle while gently swirling it around. The water started to warm up. “Ah, I don’t want to impose on you,” Booksie said. “But Miss Albatross said that you needed my assistance with certain things?”“It’s mostly because of my ears and tail,” I said. “But if they’re not going to be a problem, then I guess I can live with them. What can you tell me about buns? I mean, their culture and stuff?”Booksie nodded. “A fair bit, I think. We’re mostly found in Pyrowalk, though there are some who take to the seas. I’ve travelled far from home to build my shop and collect interesting books. We do tend to have a lot of members with wanderlust, but that might not be because we’re buns.”“Why is it, then?” I asked.“Buns don’t really have a nation? We’re just a people... no I can’t say we’re even that. There are buns all across Pyrowalk, from Cinderrun to Southerfell, and at every level. We even have nobles.” She shifted, hands dropping onto her lap. “Some people don’t like buns, but it’s not that common.”“I would hope not, judging people just because they have more ears than you is silly,” I said. Amaryllis flipped through a few pages of one of the books she’d bought, then set it aside. “I’m going to go get us some food. Awen, want to give me a hand?” “Ah, certainly,” Awen said. She bounced off my bed and soon my two friends were out of the room, their footfalls turning distant as they made their way down to the inn’s first floor.“So, Booksie,” I said as I let go of the kettle. “Would you mind telling me what happened to your bookstore?”Booksie tensed. “I just... I just thought that selling it would be best.”“Oh,” I said. “I thought that maybe the bookstore was a dream of yours or something,” I said.I saw the bun swallow, her head turning away so that one of her ears hid her eyes from me. “It was,” she said.“If you don’t want to talk about it, it’s okay,” I said.She shook her head. “I suspect you have your own troubles.”“My troubles are never as important as my friends,” I said. “We’ve only known each other for a bit, but I’d like to think that we could become the best of friends!” Catherine ‘Booksie’ CabbageDesired Quality: Someone who appreciates a good book and who has a romantic heart.Dream: To run the grandest bookstore in the world. To reopen her store.Her name was Catherine? Maybe her parents had a sense of humour. I could sympathise.Booksie smiled, small and timid and wonderful. “I think I might like that,” she said. With a heavy sigh, Booksie resettled herself on the bed. “If you open a business in Port Royal, there are certain taxes you need to pay. The rent is high too, but I managed to pay both. It wasn't the most successful shop, but I made due. And it was great! I had plenty of customers I got to know and enjoy, and some knew that I could get the best books from Pyrowalk and... and it’s all gone now.”I got up, walked over to her side, and then paused. “Do buns like hugs?” I asked.“We do,” Booksie said.“Oh, good,” I said before plopping myself down next to her and giving her a big sideways hug. Our ears squished together, which felt weird, but not bad weird. Booksie giggled. “I think you might fit right in,” she said.“Good! I wouldn’t mind making a bunch of new friends. Now how can we get your shop back?”The door opened and Amaryllis strode in with two trays balanced in each hand. She looked at me for a moment, then shook her head. “I walk in on you and Awen on the same bed, then an hour later it’s you and the book seller? People are going to start talking, Broccoli.”“Because I like cuddles?” I asked.Awen followed Amaryllis into the room, holding onto her own trays. She stared even harder than Amaryllis did.Amaryllis sighed. “Idiot,” she said. “Come eat. The slop they serve here looks vaguely palatable. It had better be for the price they’re charging for it.”“Things are expensive here?” I asked.“It’s the tournament,” Booksie said as she got up. “There are lots of people here for that alone. It runs all day tomorrow, or most of the day anyway. It’s kind of a big deal. I was hoping to catch a ride with one of the airships heading out west the day after.”“Oh, maybe we could watch? We’re kind of stuck here all day tomorrow anyway,” I said.“Sure,” Amaryllis said. “It could be enlightening. There’s also a puppet show that I want to see.”“Awa, that sounds nice,” Awen said. The moment I sat down, Awen moved to the seat next to me, placing me between her and Amaryllis, so I gestured to the seat across from me. “Sit?” I asked.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.“I wouldn’t want to impose,” Booksie said.“Oh, come on, it’s just a bit of food. And you could tell us about your shop. I’m sure we could help. If nothing else, Amaryllis is loaded.”“Moron,” Amaryllis said. “What’s this about a shop?” She turned to the side when Orange hopped onto the table and installed herself in optimal scratching range, which meant right in front of her plate. Booksie gave in and sat across from me. She shifted a little in her seat and I found myself doing the same. Chairs and tails didn’t mix all that well. “Thank you,” she said. “It’s... I wish I could say it’s a long story, but it truly isn’t.”We paused for a moment as plates and food were shifted about and soon I was licking my lips as I eyed a nice bit of chicken next to a heaping of veggies all covered in some sort of sauce. “Well, tell us everything,” Amaryllis said. “You seem out of place over here, so it must be quite the story.”“Ah, yeah,” Booksie said as she chewed on a bit of carrot. “My store did alright for some time. I was happy, and I was making enough to get by. Then the... ah, I think they called themselves the street protection crew... Stopped by. They told me that I needed to pay them for additional safety or else things would start to happen.”“Oh no,” I said.Booksie looked away. “I’m just a single bun, living all on my own above my shop. I... I paid at first, but then the price went up, and I couldn’t afford to pay them one week. Someone broke in and took some things. I managed to fix everything, and I kept on paying from then on, but the price just kept climbing.”We were all quiet for a moment before I shook my head and smacked a hand on the table next to my plate. “Well, that just wasn’t nice. Did you tell the police? The guards?”“Ah, I did, but... I think they’re being paid not to make a fuss about it. Things in the east end of Port Royal are fairly safe, but the gangs from the Scumways tend to spill out a lot. Things like extortion tend to take a long time to get the attention of the people running the city. In the end, I took what money I could and I ran. I couldn’t afford the next payment, not while running my business.”“Disgusting,” Amaryllis said.I nodded and took an angry chomp of my chicken, then almost immediately spat it out. “Oh, yuck,” I said.Booksie stared at my place, then began to titter. “Oh no, I forgot to tell you.”“Tell me what?” I asked as I poked the meat. Had it been undercooked?“Buns are omnivores like humans, but we generally avoid meats. We can eat meat, but it’ll upset your stomach if you eat lots. I never saw what the big appeal was with meat anyway. It tastes a bit strange.”I stared at the chicken on my plate, then, with a disappointed sigh, I lifted my plate and slid it onto Awen’s. “I like meat,” I lamented.Amaryllis gave my back a pat. “It happens?” she tried.I shook my head and bit into a bit of lettuce. At least that still tasted good. “Well, we need to help you,” I said to Booksie. “I’m sure we could get the attention of the authorities in Port Royal if we tried.”“That would be nice, but I can’t ask that from you,” Booksie said.I hummed as I nibbled on more lettuce. It really was good. Maybe it was fresh? I took a bit more from the plates in the middle of the table. “We’ll figure something out, don’t you worry.”“As much as I admire your... you-ness, Broccoli, Booksie here is a stranger to us. We can’t just go all out to help her.”“Awa,” Awen said. “No, no we can. Um. If you find someone that needs a friend, you’re supposed to help them. R-right Broccoli?” I bumped shoulders with Awen. “That’s right! We can help, so we should. And besides, other than helping Rhawrexdee, we don’t have any plans, right?”“We don’t,” Amaryllis said. “But I’m sure we could find something more profitable to do with our time. No offence, miss Booksie.”“None taken?”“Bah. Maybe we could buy part of Booksie’s business. Then we could profit from her winnings in a few years when she’s the biggest and best store in Port Royal. No... on Dirt!” I said.Amaryllis tapped her chin with a talon. “That’s not the worst idea you’ve ever spouted. We’d need a lot of capital though. I have some gold on me, but not an infinite amount, and the cost of hiring guards and fixing Miss Booksie’s shop, or bribing the city guard so that they do their jobs... that’s beyond what I have on me.”I hummed. “We could gamble for more? I have... six gold left? I think.”“Gamble,” Amaryllis deadpanned.“Yup. With the tournament tomorrow!” “And what if we can’t pay up?” Amaryllis asked.“We only gamble the gold we have. And if someone tries to, uh, extort us or something, we can ask Rhawrexdee for help?”Amaryllis blinked, then shrugged. “I’m in.”“Awa, I, I think I’m okay with that? I just want to, um, be around.”“Great!” I said. “See Booksie, everything’ll work out.”“I... thank you, Broccoli. Truly.”Grinning, I picked up my tea kettle, set some mugs in a neat row, and filled them up one by one.Ding! For repeating a Special Action a sufficient number of times you have unlocked the class skill: Tea Making!“Huh.” “What now?” Amaryllis asked.“I got a new skill! Tea making.”Amaryllis smacked herself with a wing. “I don’t think gambling is such a good idea anymore, not with that kind of luck.”“Hey, it could be useful?” I said before taking a sip of my tea. I might have let it steep too long.Tea MakingF — 07%The ability to make tea“Okay, so maybe not,” I said as I took another sip. “Still better than Adorable.”
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