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Gidarth is a simple-minded adventurer who lives for good food, heavy axes, and the jingle of extra coin. Restless and craving more than routine quests, he takes on an escort job for a band of priests exploring ancient ruins. But when curiosity leads him to unleash an imprisoned power, Gidarth’s hunger for excitement may spiral into something far larger (and heavier) than he ever imagined.

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Chapter 1 - An Adventure Begins

“Ay, fellas! Look at that loser!”

A group of hyena rogues’ fangs glistened with sinister smiles at the far corner of the adventurer’s guild. They twisted knives into the wooden table, snickering as a large deep purple and green dragon passed, long, thick tail dragging between his legs. A big barbarian like him could have beaten up all of them with a large swing of his battleaxe, but that’d been a quick way for him to get kicked back out on the road again.

Gidarth tightened the sack of useless treasure he had gathered to make sure that they wouldn’t steal anything from him again. He glanced away, ignoring the berating hyenas with a roll of his eyes and a curse under his breath.

“What was tha’ big, guy?” Said a drunken hyena, eyes suddenly growing very serious. “Want to fight ‘bout it?”

“No,” Gidarth grumbled, picking up his pace.

“I think you do!” Said another. The group of three hyenas began to rise from the table, knives brandished.

Gidarth turned and bared his fangs, fist tightening around the handle of his axe strapped around his back. His massive biceps curled with strength, and he could feel his heart thumping out of his broad chest with adrenaline. But…

He jumped as he felt another person’s palm wrap around his wrist. “Who is that?!” he said, swiftly turning.

There stood Idzerd–one of the only people he recognized in the adventuring guild, and rightfully so. He was the owner of this castle–turned adventuring guild, and had built it up as a way for lesser folk to get a chance in the world.

He was a broad turtle with spiky orange hair that fell at his shoulders. He always had a delicate smile stretched across his face. He had a big heart, having grown up without parents. Technically, he had royal blood, but his father abandoned him because during noble meetings, he would steal from everyone’s deep pockets. Ashamed, his father and mother no longer cared for him. He now lives with his grandparents and aunt, who run a tavern not too far away from the castle.

“Not here, friend,” said the turtle. “And you three–get out of here. I don’t want to see you for a month.”

The hyenas grumbled, but did not question Idzerd’s authority. They spat at Gidarth’s feet as they pushed passed toward the exit. When their fluffy tails wrapped around the corner and they were left alone, Idzerd peered up at Gidarth with a frown. “You don’t seem very happy.”

Gidarth sighed and shrugged. He placed his backpack on the table and opened it. A bundle of copper candle holders and three steel cart parts lay inside. He looked back toward Idzerd and said, “Last adventure didn’t turn out well. The job was easy, but these are hardly worth a single gold.”

Idzerd nodded. “Why don’t you try something harder?” He wrapped his slow arm around Gidarth’s large, scaly back. “There’s plenty of high-ranking quests for you to do! I know you can do them if you set your heart into it.”

Gidarth’s eyes glimmered with glee. “You think so?! I’m so ready to get started!”

“Yes, yes!” Idzerd exclaimed, absorbing Gidarth’s positive energy with a vigorous pat on his back. “I think I have the perfect job for you. I have a group of five priests that want to explore an abandoned temple not too far from here. They have already rented out a boat for an adventurer to use. They just need a powerhouse like you to defend them.” He jabbed his finger into Gidarth’s bare stomach. “What do you think, big guy? They will allow any treasure to be taken back so long as it fits on the boat.”

Gidarth raised his arm in the air triumphantly. “They will have my axe!”

Chapter 2: The Ruins of Gluttony

Gidarth slammed the blade of a risen undead soldier against the thigh of a zombie rat. The corpse had long since lost all of its blood, and fell to the ground, silent once again. One of the mice priests rushed over and said a quick prayer, ensuring the corpse did not rise once again.

Even for someone as large as him, Gidarth was beginning to feel a little fatigued from the venture into this temple. There were many traps and obstacles to pass. He had never accepted something this high-rank in his entire career. Thankfully, the priests were there to provide a little support with their divine magic. Besides a few cuts and scratches, Gidarth was otherwise unscathed.

“There–” called out one of the bowl-cut haired mice. Gidarth followed his elderly pointed finger toward a heavy stone doorway. Or what was left of it. It looked like someone had cast an explosive spell and shattered the ceiling. Rocks had sealed the next room tight.

“Looks like they caved in the place,” Gidarth exclaimed. He placed his axe on the ground and brushed off his chest. “Give me an hour and keep watch.”

As Gidarth began removing the stones, he uncovered a large, stone doorway with an unknown language written all around it. The only thing that he could mildly understand was the engraved illustrations of a plump figure resting on a throne while a ghostly monster fed them wine and bread. Gidarth frowned and turned to the mice priests.

“What does this say?”

The eldest priest wobbled over, back hunched lower than Gidarth’s waistline. His shaky hands brushed off some of the dust and dirt from the passage, turned, and shrugged.

“Oh, good help…” Gidarth grunted, rolling his eyes.

The dragon’s tail lashed as he squatted low and sank his fingers underneath the stone door. “Stand back!” He growled, using all his strength to lift.

The door shuttered, then began to rise as Gidarth forced it to the side, arms and legs swelling with power. He huffed as the doorway crunched as it crashed against its locking mechanism. The doorway was opened.

“Alright,” Gidarth grumbled. “Let me go first.”

The dragon stepped inside this long-forgotten room. It seemed to be a temple, with numerous vases, unburned incense, candles, and religious iconography everywhere. It was hard to make heads or tails of what it all meant for Gidarth, and he simply crossed his arms over his broad chest as the priests began to investigate it all. After some mumbling, they opened their packs, and began shoving whatever they could fit inside.

Gidarth raised a brow. “Are we sure you should do that?” He rustled his snowy, white, frizzy hair sheepishly. “I mean… this looks like some sorta shrine or something!”

All of the priests turned and frowned at him. They grunted, and silently continued their salvaging. Gidarth shrugged and snorted. “Alright, alright… I’ll help out with the heavy… stuff…”

As he was looking toward all of the, er, ‘treasure’, Gidarth spotted it–a lone, copper-colored container with the same illustration of a seated, plump figure and a ghostly apparition engraved on its rounded exterior. Smiling, Gidarth grabbed it and felt its golden handle along the palms of his hands. He tugged on the lid, but it wouldn’t budge an inch! But it was warm, invigorating, and inviting, almost like it wanted him to pick it up. Curious, he wrapped a metal chain around its handle and locked it on his broad neck, the engraving resting between his large breast, and he began helping load up the boat.
Chapter 3: The Necklace

“Woof!” Gidarth exclaimed, covered from head to tail in thick sweat. “I’m beat!”

He lounged on the boat’s deck underneath the shade of a dozen or so boxes. Batting the air to fan himself with his hand, Gidarth was more than happy that it was over and they were setting sail again. The priests ignored him, murmuring to themselves while examining their haul. Honestly? He was kinda thankful for it. The priests have proven to be quite the… dull crowd. He was glad he wasn’t the religious type.

As he bundled down into a little makeshift bed stuffed between all the boxes, Gidarth crossed his arms over his exposed midriff and closed his eyes. His job was over, and all he needed to do was rest.

“Wake up.”

Gidarth jumped and looked around. All of the priests had gone to bed. It was night, and the stars and moon above were the only things illuminating the deck. The dragon stood, searching the area with a grimace. When he found nothing, he grumbled, “Hello?”

“Hi there!”

He jolted again. The voice sounded so nearby, and was slow, soothing, and so easy to get lost in. It messed with his train of thought, and made him irritable. Blinking rapidly, he shook his head and growled, “I don’t know where you are, but show yourself!”

“I’m trapped between these two big melons you call a chest, baby!”

Gidarth shivered as he felt the vase against his chest move. He looked down, eyes wide, and shivered. “Uhh…”

“Don’t worry! I mean no harm. I am trapped in here, you see? I need your help to get me out.”

Its voice was calm and calculated. Gidarth was anything but that. He lifted the chain off of his neck and held the vase in front of him. His brow lowered dimly, and a trail of slobber dribbled from his snout and onto the deck. He felt… calm. Happy. Satiated.

“Good! It looks like you are willing to help. I would love it if you rubbed this vessel until it is nice and hot!”

Gidarth nodded his head, blinking slightly out of sync. “O-okay…”

He wrapped his giant draconic palms around the vase and began rubbing it. He felt his hands grow unnaturally warm, like he had placed his hand above a fire, but something was preventing him from releasing it. He didn’t want to. He wanted to assist whoever was trapped inside. It was the only thing he wanted, right now.

As it grew hotter, the spout spewed out a black void of a cloud. The apparition twisted and crackled with laughter, two wicked, clawed arms jutting out from its body. Its head is dressed with a bovine skull, with two jutting horns and piercing pink eyes. Its hair flickered with different colors ranging from green, red, blue, purple, and orange, all eventually soaked in the black void of the rest of its body.

It rose, levitating before Gidarth’s dumb body, weightless and yet so frightening. It lifted its claw forward and, despite having no mouth, Gidarth knew it was beyond happy.

“Thank you, little one.” It said, cupping Gidarth’s chin and bringing it close almost like it was about to kiss him. Instead, Gidarth felt something wrap around his neck as a necklace appeared from the ghostly figure’s palm.

It was ebony-black, with the visage of the ghostly figure’s bovine skull on the front of its pendant. The chain felt like it was made out of bone, and was jagged and twisted.

“A gift from me to you! You’ll be luckier than a leprechaun, and hungrier than a god with that on. Hehe!”

Gidarth mumbled, unable to formulate words as he stood dumbly, completely hypnotised by the ghost’s presence. He shivered as the apparition patted his head like a dog, and began to levitate quickly in the opposite direction they were heading.

“Goodbye now, and enjoy your feasting! Hehe!”

Gidarth gave a dumb smile, blinking very slowly, and waved at the ghost until he could no longer see it against the black night. Once the ghost was within a large distance, he snorted and shook his head.

“What the…” he grumbled, giving his snout a few gentle snaps. Had he been sleep walking? His eyes snapped back to the deck, glancing around at where he had been standing. Then, he felt the necklace on his chest thrum. He looked down and held the pendant in confusion. Where did he get this?

He wiped a trail of slobber from his face and grimaced. He must have been really hungry after all that lifting! He must have been sleep walking searching for food. He rubbed his belly, looking toward the kitchen. His draconic jaws snapped as he quietly opened the pantries and snacked on whatever was inside. He fell asleep as he stood, and settled back onto the counter, then fell to the floor, completely stuffed holding his belly with a content smile.


Chapter 4: Bulking the Belly

Gidarth had more money than he could have ever dreamed of.

He surrounded himself with food and ale, celebrating his return by giving everyone at the adventurer’s guild a free round of drinks. Red-faced, he slammed tankard after tankard on the ale-spilled wooden tables until that stank of alcohol. Accompanying this was food beyond his wildest tastes: an entire steamed ham drenched in cherry sauce, a delicately spiced rotisserie chicken, and so much more surrounded the boisterous dragon as everyone celebrated.

Gidarth turned to cheer at the three hyenas who continued to bark with laughter as he drained who-knows-how-many ales down his gullet. If he weren’t so drunk, he would have kicked them out, but they seemed to be having a good time. They even seemed to enjoy his presence with a wink and a nod of approval.

But there was something that he didn’t notice in the riff raff and tomfoolery: his quickly widening stomach.

He never wore too much beyond the simple blackened robes with beautiful imagery of roses strapped around his waistline. He enjoyed showing off his gargantuan body both for a sense of pride, and to intimidate his foes. After all, who would want to go up against a muscled-up bodybuilder dragon like him even if they did have armor?

But above those robes was a belt that held it all together, and that, my dear friend, was becoming quite an issue.

Gidarth’s belly jutted a foot out further than it usually did. And, well, sometimes he would have eaten a little more than usual, but this was beyond just simple gluttony. He ate like he was ravenous, shredding chicken meat off the bone and suckling it until it was completely clean. He was becoming the very thing he avoided–a royal pain in the ass that demanded food faster than the cooks could make it. He salivated just at the thought of more, not even thinking about what the taste even was.

All the while, the necklace strapped around his fattening neck thrummed with magic.

The pendant beat against his chest in rhythm of each of his swallows, growing heavier and heavier as he devoured everything in sight. It was soothing, in a way, to have the pendant pressing down on his chest. It reminded him to breathe between bites, and the pressure distending his stomach seemed to vanish as it beat with some arcane spell.

But Gidarth wouldn’t have known that. Not a barbarian like him. Such magical artifacts were left to be examined by wizards and warlocks. Gidarth simply just liked the look and feel of it.

He hardly noticed that he had gained 60 pounds in just one sitting.

The others around him sported the same appetite as well–not knowing when to stop despite having horribly distended bellies of their own. Everyone ate like there was no tomorrow, and all was merry, but that may have only been because the magic of the necklace was preventing them from recognizing their gastro-demise.

But it didn’t end there! No, Gidarth was simply only beginning to feel the effects of this ghostly pendant. Through fighting between warriors, small adventures into unknown caves, and countless grannies that needed to be escorted across the countryside, Gidarth continued to eat like there was no tomorrow. It was only when, a month later, when Gidarth was truly feeling a little… different, but he couldn’t place a finger on what was causing it. The rest of the adventuring guild knew something was off, but nobody could tell what exactly it was.

Of course, to the outside eye, it was quite clear as to what the issue was: everyone was getting monstrously obese without any recollection of what they had eaten, nor had any want to stop sating their endless appetites.

Gidarth’s body had developed such a thick hide of flesh that he regularly had to adjust the loincloth quickly disappearing into the cave of his fat ass. His face no longer held the sharp, strong visage of a warrior, and instead someone who had a lifetime of luxuries. His arms had lost almost all definition of the muscles hidden underneath, as well as his thick thighs that frequently brushed together as he walked, or rather, wobbled.

His stomach drooped over his waistband, which was quickly becoming so tight on its last buckles that if he had gained more weight, he’d have to find something else to tie around his waist.

However, Gidarth, and the entire rest of the guild didn’t seem to notice this. It was one month after he had returned with the necklace when he was carrying a large stack of crates for Idzerd at the adventuring guild. It was two giant crates of weapons, and something he probably would not have been able to carry if he had been smaller. His biceps bulged with both muscle and fat, and his entire body was coated in a thick layer of luster. The sun shined on his scales as his tongue rolled out of his mouth, which continuously panted for breath to cool him down.

“W-where do you want these, Idzerd?” Gidarth growled, legs beginning to shake from both the weight of the luggage and his morbidly obese body.

Idzerd chuckled, standing idly by as the musclegut dragon did his work. The turtle pointed lazily into an empty corner, where dozens of other crates of adventuring supplies sat idle because nobody had the energy to adventure anymore, including himself. He had developed quite a round body–even fatter than Gidarth, mostly because of his lack of movement–and seemed quite content with watching people do work for him.

But what was even stranger was their height. They had grown a few inches, and not in width. No, they were taller. It was just enough to where it was noticeable, especially because of their quickly shrinking clothes.

But that was the least of their worries.

Idzerd snickered as the dragon huffed as the crates came crashing down onto the stone floor. Idzerd nodded as Gidarth held his stomach, which growled in response.

“All this heavy lifting is building up quite an appetite!” Gidarth’s deep voice thrummed in the storage room.

Idzerd lifted a finger and wagged it like scolding a pet. “Nah, ah, ah! You aren’t finished yet, big guy. There’s more work to be done.”

Gidarth frowned. “What ever for?”

Idzerd fished around his brown, open-fronted tunic, and procured a bill. He slipped it into Gidarth’s hands.

“This is a simple hunting mission that requires someone of your strength.” Idzerd looked up and down at Gidarth, completely blind to how fat he had gotten. “You’ll need to lug that big axe of yours and kill a bear that has been terrorizing the local cows. Think you can do it?”

“Absolutely.”

Gidarth, in fact, could not do it.

Gidarth’s arms ached–hauling the axe he once thought was as light as a feather now made him exhausted. He had been clawed in the love handle from where the bear had gotten a few good shots at him. He had hardly felt it though. The extra weight on him certainly made him a bit more tanky.

But that didn’t stop his mind from wondering: why was he so slow?

The bear’s corpse dragged limply across the ground as Gidarth pulled it by its leg. He huffed and puffed as he stopped before the farmhouse door and fell to his knees to catch his breath. He didn’t need to knock on the farmer’s door for them to realize that there was a giant, heaving dragon at their abode. The sound of his panting gave it away very easily.

Gidarth fell onto his back, belly wobbling as the farmer slammed open the door.

“What is all that racket?!” said a skinny otter with a little twig of wheat hanging from his mouth. He blinked twice and adjusted his straw hat as he peered down at the dragon and the bear at his doorstep.

“Oh, hi there, sonny!”

Gidarth moaned as the otter raced down, arms wide, and hugged him across his stomach. “You killed that big, nasty bear for me! Thank you so much!”

“N-no problem…” he growled, licking his lips as he smelled some sizzling meat from the farmer’s home.

“How could I ever repay you?!”

Gidarth grinned. “Whatever you got cooking in there–I want it.”

The otter released Gidarth and sped toward his front door. He twisted around and exclaimed, “Easy! A big fatty like you needs their fuel, ay? I bet your party sends you in first to take all those blows. You’re like your own meat shield, buddy! No wonder you could easily take down that bear with only a few scratches!”

Gidarth raised a brow, confused.

The farmer swiped the air and shrugged. “Bah! I’m just teasing. I have plenty of food to go around, so if you ever need to fill that tub of a gut, just reach out to me.”

“Tub of a… gut?” Gidarth repeated, mumbling to himself as he stared down at his inflating and deflating stomach.

Before he could think too much about it, he was given a little basket of bacon and grilled chicken sandwiches wrapped in cheese and a pat on the fatty back. They used a horse and a rope to pull Gidarth back on his feet, and away he went, snacking on the full-course meal as he wobbled his way through town back to Idzerd’s adventuring guild.

But before he traveled too deep into the village, there was someone that he didn’t expect to see chatting with four others, all of which were decked out in resplendent golden armor and shining weapons.

It was another dragon with long, flowing locks of red hair that reached below his shoulder blades. His scales were dark purple, with a bright yellow belly and chest. He wore very little besides a loincloth and light armor around his waist. And he was jacked to the very core–far larger than Gidarth had ever been.

As Gidarth grew closer, the dragon paused their talk with his party and turned to see who was approaching him. At first, he didn’t seem to recognize Gidarth, but then the realization hit him like a bull.

“G-Gidarth?” the purple dragon gasped.

“Brother!” Gidarth called, wobbling up to the opposing dragon. They couldn’t look more different in physique. He stopped a few feet away, his stomach stopping a few seconds afterward, and sighed. “Erwind, you’re looking good!”

Erwind bit his lip. “You’re… looking good yourself, I suppose.”

His companions chuckled and he waved them away. “Sorry, friends. This is my brother. He’s always been a bit… odd.”

With a little more privacy, Erwind smirked. “I completed 12 high-ranking quests in a week, brother.” He looked down to Gidarth’s stomach and snorted. “Seems like you’ve been in the kitchens a little more often than not.”

Gidarth’s face scrunched as something picked at the back of his brain. He blinked slowly as his brother wrapped his gargantuan, muscular arm around his neck and hugged him in close.

“Our father will be in town soon. Did you know that? There’s going to be a very important gathering of the most awarded adventurers in the land.” He nudged Gidarth on the back, watching the fat wobble with a grin. “There’s going to be a lot of food there.”

Gidarth couldn’t be bothered with nobles. They irritated him like no other. He rolled his eyes and growled, “I’ll think about it.”

Erwind sighed and gently let go of Gidarth. He brushed off the side of his thigh of the dirt and bear fur and frowned. “It’s our father. It’ll be the perfect chance for us to spend time together as a family.”

“I said I’ll think about it!” Getting a bit annoyed by his brother’s success, Gidarth trotted away.

Erwind snorted and folded his arms across his broad chest. His brow raised as he saw something that he hadn’t noticed Gidarth wearing before–the necklace. He turned to go meet his adventuring party once again, noting down the pendant in his head.

Chapter 5: Lazy Adventuring

Gidarth celebrated the successful hunt just the same as any other day: with a big feast that could have fed a family of five in one sitting.

The smell of ale and sizzling meats filled the adventuring hall once again. Idzerd stood behind a bar counter, taking everyone’s orders and giving them a little more than what they asked for. His fat belly poured over the counter as he prepared the drinks, feeding into all of the adventurer’s endless desires to devour everything in sight. It was quite a sight to behold.

Gidarth sat alone at a table, stomach so fattened that it also rested on the top. He ate ravenously, with discarded bones piling up at his feet and grease covering his chest. He was getting exhausted, however. He thought he could fall asleep right then and there in a food coma, but the thought of more food kept him excited. Just when he was about to say he’s finished, there was something that kept him eating more.

Something that kept telling him that he was hungry.

The necklace thrummed with heat and vigor.

Idzerd left the bar and singlehandedly brought Gidarth a massive tray of sausage links, all piled on top of a plate pooling with more meat sweat and grease. He towered over Gidarth now–standing nearly 1.73 meters tall. His giant turtle belly was both intimidating and welcoming in its own strange way. He felt like a jolly giant that could have smashed someone under their body, but chose a life of peace.

Gidarth immediately began to devour the food, slobbering at the mouth as his tastebuds were on fire. His brain told him to stop, but his stomach, and the necklace, told him to consume more. Idzerd was happy to supply the demand.

The weight lay heavy in his stomach, yet he still yearned for more. More ale. More meat. More pastries.

Idzerd’s fat face bulged with a cheeky grin as he returned with a few mugs of ale, just for Gidarth. Then several hotcakes, steaming hot with syrup and butter. More slices of ham, a grilled steak, and a few pies. He didn’t entirely know when it had stopped, because he went face-down in one of those meat pies, snoring as loud as a lion’s roar.

When he woke up again, he was still covered from head to toe in food. The other adventurers groaned around him, completely stuffed to the brim with their hands on their aching bellies. Idzerd propped up in a chair behind the bar and appeared to also snack on whatever the cooks brought. All of them were at least 226 kilograms.

Gidarth shook his head, and his body lurched forward. His stomach slammed down on his lap with an audible, wet SLAP, jiggling for several seconds before it came to a halt. The movement awakened a subtle burp, and he huffed as he rose from his chair, knocking the table to the side just to get enough room to sidle out.

He felt his belt fall, and he quickly grabbed it to avoid flashing anyone. Thankfully, all the adventurers still looked to have been asleep. Gidarth’s face went red as he sucked in his belly, tugging on the belt buckle on its final notch. He finally lodged it in place, tight as it could be, and sighed. The belt outlined his stomach even more now, and made him look all the more fatter.

Gidarth smiled, feeling excited for the day to come. He thought about his brother, and the noble event he had invited him to. He frowned. His reaction definitely could have been better. But why did his father have to hang around so many snobby people?!

Gidarth began walking out of the adventurer’s guild to meet with his brother, when he felt a tug on his arm.

It was Idzerd, who looked half asleep.

“Don’t you want to stay a little longer? Get a little more food in that scrawny belly of yours?” Idzerd gave a gentle slap against the dragon’s belly. The fat quivered.

Gidarth’s mouth watered as if in command, but his stomach gave a sickish groan, clearly detesting last night’s feast. “I think I need to go for a little walk to get the blood flowing. I feel… exhausted.”

“Sounds like you need to rest, buddy ol’ pal. Why don’t you sit here next to me and let the cooks take care of ya? You look absolutely famished.”

Gidarth, a little flustered, yanked away Idzerd’s arm. “I need to talk to my brother.”

Idzerd shrugged. “Just saying–a little ale in your belly and some good food will make you feel a lot better!”

He grinned. “Oh, I know it. Maybe when I get back I’ll have a bite to eat! Sound good?”

Idzerd nodded. But before Gidarth could leave, the turtle stopped him a second time. “Wait! Someone gave me a letter…”

He struggled to reach around his vast belly and ruffle around his pockets. Finally, he looked up at Gidarth and pointed toward his right breast pocket. “Reach in there, can’t you?”

Gidarth nodded and procured the letter. He broke the seal, and began reading the message aloud.

“Go to the forest at the edge of the village. Remove your necklace–I need help fighting some thieves and they’ll steal it right off your back. Come alone. Keep your axe nearby.”

Gidarth squinted, still a little drunk from last night. He blinked and said, “An adventurer never says no to a personal request!”

Idzerd nodded. “Damn right!”

Gidarth laughed as with one last hurrah, the turtle’s eyes fell once again, and he began snoring. Gidarth unhooked the tiny lock keeping the pendant wrapped around his neck, and felt a tug as he pulled it away, like it wanted him to keep wearing it. His heart skipped a beat, and he felt a little light headed as he held it a foot away from him. He shook his head, a bit disoriented, but left it on Idzerd’s lap as he slept.

With a hand on the handle of his axe strapped to his back, Gidarth wobbled outdoors, his body a rolling tub of lard compared to what it once was just a short time ago.


Chapter 6: Enchanting Delicacies

The Emerald forests were known for its jewel-like leaves that sprouted from its fertile trees and underbrush. While sharp to the eye like that of a cleaned gem, all of the plant life was pleasing to the touch, like its natural counterparts. Because of this, the denizens from around the lands used these materials to decorate their clothes, weapons, and homes.

Gidarth’s massive foot crushed one such young, sprouting bush with an audible snap.

His rear jostled nearly outside of his rose-patterned skirt. The fabric is stretched to its absolute limit, desperately clinging to an avalanche of fat that wants nothing more than to spill out. Each leg is a mountain to excess, rolling with thick cellulite and fatty folds, the sheer width forcing a waddling gait that’s as commanding as it is helplessly indulgent. The skirt rides up in the middle, caught in the shelf of their rolling belly, and is barely long enough to cover their knees.

His chubby face glanced up at the beautiful leaves shimmering in the sunlight. The light cascaded a pleasant hue of different colors across the natural dirt roads. Honestly? He was surprised that the note told him to go here. In all his years in the Corpuland Kingdom, there was no moment of strife in these forests. It was a place of pilgrimage for religious folk, a trail for starstruck lovers, and somewhere for artists who were down on their luck scavenging the land for motivation.

Gidarth stopped abruptly to stare at something so odd that it made him do a double-take: there was a massive sandwich placed on a bench. Fully-dressed, with ham, tomato, dressing, bacon, banana peppers, pepperoni, all smashed inside a baguette. The sound of a roaring waterfall was nearby, and the trickling water of a thin river. A normal person would have thought this odd. But Gidarth was hungry. He smiled, stepping closer when… he didn’t feel the ball of his foot find purchase on land.

His eyes went wide.

“GAH!” he exclaimed, falling forward inside of a hole. His foot sank through a near-perfect replication illusion, causing his body to trickle forward, and plummet. With seconds to react, he was unable to stop the momentum of his body, and braced for impact.

“UGH–”

Gidarth groaned as his stomach lodged itself in place around the hole. It was like stuffing a carrot down a drain–his upper half was too fat to fit further inside this trap. His tail and legs lashed in the air, and he clawed at the dirt to pull himself out. But he was much too heavy to do such a thing any longer. Instead, all he could do was hang there a wait, his belly hanging like a vice grip at the hole’s edge.

With a toothy snarl, Gidarth looked at the sandwich again, and gasped. It was completely stagnant–wooden cutouts that were strategically placed in front of the hole. Before he could react, Gidarth heard someone step closer. Their footsteps were heavy, commanding, and quick.

“Too hungry to even think twice, I see.”

Gidarth shivered. That voice was all too familiar.

His brother.

Erwind stepped a foot from his brother and offered a hand. Gidarth blushed, but eagerly grasped at his arm. He was pulled to his feet with an audible fwoop as he escaped from the hole. He brushed off his scales and skirt and snapped at his brother.

“What’s the big idea? Huh?” Gidarth folded his arms over his chest and snarled. “You wrote that letter, didn’t you?”

Erwind shook his head, a sinister smile curling across his happy face. “Don’t know what you mean, brother. I’m just astounded by how fat you’ve gotten. What have you been doing lately? It looks like you’ve been eating a cow’s worth of food every single day for the past month.”

Gidarth looked at his brother, a crazed look in his eye. “What do you mean?! Why does everyone say that?! I have been eating completely normal.”

“Hmm.”

Erwind eyed his brother up and down, circling around him to examine every nook and cranny. He stopped, tail lashing, and said, “Even without that necklace, you are still acting odd…”

“Huh?” Gidarth said, turning to his brother. His eyes went wide.

“W-WHOA! WAIT!”

Gidarth flinched as his brother’s fist landed squarely on the top of his head. Stars circled around his perception for a few seconds, and he shook his head to regain his posture.

Then… he blinked a few times. His breath slowed, and he peered around the forest, as if he had just woken from a dream.

Erwind grinned. “Ah! There we go! Enchantment seems to have finally gone.”

“E-enchantment?” Gidarth said.

“Yep! Just look at yourself, fatty!”

Gidarth took a deep breath and looked down. He jumped as he saw the twist and pull of his skirt against his belly. It didn’t look like he was the same person–he was trapped in an unfamiliar body that had swollen to a size he couldn’t comprehend. He placed a hand on his stomach, his fingers sinking an inch deep before finding any resistance, and then let go, watching dumbfounded as it snapped back with a jolly wobble.

“Brother… what happened?” Gidarth gasped, tugging at his skirt. “I barely fit in my clothes! What am I… 225 kilos!?”

Erwind slapped Gidarth’s back, and boy Gidarth wished he wouldn’t, because it shook his giant, bloated body like no tomorrow. Erwind gloated, “You’re double the amount of brother I would have ever wanted. BWAHAHA!” the massive dragon reached down to cup his brother’s fatty cheeks like a mom spoiling their child. “Imagine the look on the noble’s faces tonight. You do realize that it is tonight, right? The meeting with all those important adventurers and nobles? …our father?”

Gidarth gulped and shook his head. “But what did I do? How do I fix this? I can’t show up like this!”

Erwind straightened up and grew much more serious. “Gidarth, you found a cursed necklace. Mind telling me where you found it?”

Gidarth sat down in the dirt, and explained the whole situation–the trek there, the month of eating, and every small detail he could remember. When he explained the necklace, Erwind face-palmed.

“How many times do I have to tell people never to wear something they pick up from an abandoned crypt?” Erwind paced in front of Gidarth, side-eying his fat brother. “We have to destroy it.”

Gidarth bit his lip, a bit afraid of it. But he fought back his urge to cower and nodded. “It's the only way. I left it at the castle, like you said. Idzerd must still have it. He’s gained a lot of weight as well.”

“Looks like we have an adventure, brother.” Erwind turned tail and started briskly walking to the castle. “Keep up.”

Gidarth struggled to his feet, and jogged, if only for a short time, to his brother’s side, wheezing and panting just to match his pace.

Sweat trailed down Gidarth’s body as he fell to his knees. The castle was empty–not a single soul was left inside. A few empty plates scattered around the entry hall, where everyone must have had one final meal before leaving. It was eerily quiet. It was something that sent shivers down Gidarth’s bones.

“Where is everyone?” he grunted. Erwith stepped forward and toward the bar.

“There’s a letter.” Erwith picked up a freshly written piece of paper and handed it to Gidarth. “What’s it read?”

Gidarth frowned. It is definitely Idzerd’s handwriting. It was hastily scribbled, as if Idzerd had a moment of recollection before becoming entirely consumed by the necklace’s power.

“Gidarth. Find me and the others at the royal palace. We are… g…”

Gidarth threw the piece of paper on the table and sighed. “That necklace is dangerous. We have to go to that party. Now.” He stood to his feet, belly lurching forward and causing Erwind to snicker. The short rise caused him to wheeze, and pause just to catch his breath. “Everyone is in danger there.”

Erwind straightened up and nodded his head. “I agree. We can’t pause for a second. Get your speedy shoes on, big guy. We gotta go!”




Chapter 7: The Royal Feast

The sound of nobles murmuring filled the royal castle. The walls rose higher than their egos. The setting sun filtered in through giant stained glass windows of rulers passed, all with their noses high in the air. The resplendent furniture was dainty and looked more fragile than glass. This was no place for adventurers. The nobles must have invited renown people like Erwind here just for show. Gidarth though? He was the centerpiece in everyone’s conversation.

They ogled at how rotund he was. He was fatter than even the most luxurious nobles. Over 500 pounds and full of muscle, he looked more like a bear than had wandered inside the castle and started snooping around. Even the adventurers, who had no right to mock Gidarth's size, were eager to snicker and point at him as he passed. The only reason why they did not tell him to leave was Erwind at his side, who gave the snobbish folk a side eye as they passed.

They couldn’t find their father anywhere among the nobles, thankfully. But Gidarth couldn’t help but feel fear for those that were here.

A well-kept raccoon with slicked back hair and a curly mustache bowed before them. “Sirs, your table–HUMPH!”

Erwind shoved them aside and Gidarth blushed. “Sorry…” he whispered as he followed his brother to the very back of the entry hall.

The raccoon’s face grew red and he stomped his foot. He did nothing else to stop them though, and turned tail to assist the other diners.

The host of the event, a slightly chubby lion, sat as the centerpiece of the entire dining hall. His fingers could barely bend with the amount of rings on his fingers, and he rattled with golden bracelets and piercings. His red mane was cut razor-sharp, and his claws wicked and long. He smiled as a business-like rhino wearing an ostentatious robe blabbled about some trade offer, but quickly frowned as Erwind and Gidarth approached. He waved away the rhino as Erwind huffed.

“Who are you two?” the lion’s low voice rumbled.

Erwind folded his arms against his chest. “You all are in great danger. You have to cancel the event.”

Gidarth shivered at Erwind’s confidence, but listened as the lion relaxed back in his throne.

“We are all safe here. I have the best guards you can imagine. If anything does happen, I will be the first to know. Now get out.” The lion lurched forward, jewelry clanging on each other. “I don’t want to see your filthy faces here. You’re Lanson’s boys, aren’t you? Too bad I’ll have to tell that old dragon I had to remove the riffraff.”

Erwind clutched his fist, but Gidarth stepped forward. “No! You don’t understand! There’s a horrible spell that’s–”

He shivered as the appetizers on the lion’s nearby plate began to levitate. Little slabs of meat wrapped in bacon and stuck with a toothpick began to float around the lion’s head. The feline looked concerned at first, but snagged the food out of the air, and ate it.

“Mmm…” he moaned, scratching at his slightly distended belly. “Why does this taste so good?” he grabbed another, and another out of the air, scarfing it down without any sign of fear. He began to salivate, and his face couldn’t hide that he wanted more. And now.

Very demanding, the lion slammed his fist down on this throne and roared, “More food! More food!”

Gidarth and Erwind backed away as the entire entryway began to fill with a tornado of food. Through dashing hams, sizzling steaks, and ropes of sausages, Gidarth squinted and found a new party entering the hall. They were absolutely massive, almost impossible to recognize. But the person leading them all had two very distinct features: the shell on his back and the necklace wrapped around his engorged throat.

A completely different voice yelled from his mouth, devoid of emotion and eerily deep, “Eat, you pigs! Eat until your bellies fall to the floor. You know you want to~”

Idzerd’s reptilian arm raised, pointed toward the kitchens and stockades. Through every door and window, food began to dash into people’s mouths. Everyone ate greedily, with a satisfied look on their faces. They couldn’t get enough of the stuff, and were more than happy to consume whatever was given to them. The anthros began to morph out into blobs of what they once were, clothes tearing, and stomachs gurgling. The food showed no signs of stopping. The castle… no, the entire kingdom’s stockade of food must have been guided here for one reason: to fatten up everyone in sight.

Gidarth looked to his brother, shocked. Erwind clutched his fists together and began dashing toward Idzerd, claws raised toward the collar. He swiped aside the food as it tried to fly into his mouth. He kept his jaws closed tight as cakes and pastas slapped against his lips. But he refused to eat, no matter how hungry he was, until…

“Mhmmm~”

Erwind stopped abruptly as tomato soup, like a flying web, began to sneak through his lips.

Gidarth watched in horror as his brother sat down, seemingly completely forgetting what they were here for. The other adventurers that followed Idzerd tackled the nobles and adventurers, ensuring that they, too, ate some of the food to get hypnotised by the spell. Soon, everyone was beginning to slobber and gorge themselves to death.

Gidarth looked back to the lion, who splayed out happily on the throne, dozens of times fatter than he once was. His robes rode up his stomach and functioned more like a bra. As he inhaled and exhaled, he let out loud, long burps that made room for even more. His belt had long since burst, and his face was entirely content.

He then looked back at the other fattening nobles, and gulped. It all seemed so hopeless.

Then, he felt something slap against his snout. It was his favorite food: a simple burger. Without thinking, he licked his lips, and there, nuzzled between his lips, was the tiniest bit of cheese. With that taste in his mouth, he was hooked immediately.

The tubby dragon swiped the burger out of the air and began ravenously eating it. Gidarth settled back against the lion’s throne on his ass as he ate more than he ever had in his life. It was difficult to see beyond an arm’s length, as morsel after morsel of food filtered through the air and into his mouth. He ate, despite the painful stretch of his middle, again and again, with no end in sight.

His skirt stretched to the absolute maximum, his stomach pooling far over his knees and onto the floor. It did not take long until his stomach had stretched far beyond anything he thought was possible. He rested his hands on it, kneading it with a grin. His fingers brushed against the scales, feeling the incredible resistance of its overfilled gut. His arms spread further apart, his legs thickening to monstrous proportions. 450kg… 650kg… 900kg…

All the while, he could feel his spine tingle. His arms and legs crackle with new length. Amongst getting wider, he was getting taller as well. He grew far beyond the height of the very throne next to him… 2 meters tall. 2.5 meters… until he finally hit 3.6 meters tall. A giant among the rest.

He could eat all day without an issue in the world, and he wasn’t certain if it was because of the necklace, or he just enjoyed being this large. He slumped down onto the floor, belly slushing sickishly from the wet splat of his fatty back. He circled his palms around his love handles, quickly recognizing that he could no longer meet his hands together over his gut. He would no longer be able to see his legs. After each meal, he would burp and reach out for more.

Erwind was quickly catching up with him. He tossed aside bone after bone of cleaned meat as he reached 590kg faster than someone could say adipose. His muscles had long since disappeared into a layer of pure fat. His stomach trapped his legs underneath, pinning him to the ground. He murmured, a bit annoyed by how sluggish this was making him, but continued to eat anyway.

He growled as he ate, growing taller than even Gidarth. His head hit a chandelier hanging above, and it rattled back and forth precariously as he continued to gorge. Higher and higher still, until he was 4.4 meters tall.

But Idzerd had the worst of it. The great turtle had taken place at the center of it all, a centerpiece to the most engorging event there ever was. At 1360kg, he had long since lost the ability to retreat back into his shell, if he had ever had that in the first place. His arms were as fat as a regular person’s torso. His thighs spread out like sofas under a rolling gut that never seemed to stop jiggling. His face was stuffed between two fatty cheeks, a smile opening and chomping away at whatever entered his vicinity. He had become a jolly giant, sitting on the floor, rising far above everyone around him, until he was the same height as Idzerd.

All seemed doomed, until a lone figure appeared. They wore a cloak that obscured their face. They kept their head low, dashing amongst the fattened nobles and adventurers. They spotted the necklace, and, using the fatty folds of the giant turtle, began to climb. They sliced the necklace’s chain with a dagger, and they grabbed it. As they began to fall, they tossed the pendant on the ground. They aimed their dagger at it, and their blade came crashing down on it, shattering both the blade and the pendant like glass.

There was a pause, where the food looked like it didn’t know where to go. Then everything began to fall, splattering on the ground and the confused crowd. Everyone stared at each other in horror, especially toward the giant Idzerd at the center of it all.

Gidarth blinked and glanced around. He could tell, by the looks of things, that it was over. But, how? He would never know. Before everyone started to murmur and question what had just happened the mysterious figure left the castle in a state of confusion.

OOOOOOOOORRRRRRRPPPPPP!

Everyone around began to burp, holding their stomachs to ease some of the pressure lodged within. Gidarth blushed as he rose slowly to his feet, wheezing as he glanced down at the lion lounging in the throne beside him. The feline had one hand circling around their belly, while the other continued to gorge, their face completely content. Gidarth snickered, enjoying the sight of such a gluttonous noble. Typical.

Each of Gidarth’s steps were met with a massive wobble of his body. At 900kg, he was surprised that he could move at all. He also felt like he could topple over at any second. The ground was so far away–he had grown monstrously tall now. He would no longer fit through typical doors. At 3.6 meters tall, he would have to crawl, or better yet, maybe buy a barn to live inside.

Before he grew too worrisome about his future, Erwind stomped toward him. He, out of everyone here, seemed to resist the temptation the most. He was still gargantuan, with a little bit of muscle, but a hell of a lot of fat to boot. His face still smiled, and he hugged Gidarth, thankful that it wasn’t worse.

“We’re okay, brother!” Erwind said. He looked down at Gidarth’s belly and gave it a good slap. They watched it jiggle, and he exclaimed, “Guess I have an elephant for a family member now.”

Gidarth shrugged. “Honestly? Halfway through all of that… I felt okay. I could get used to this!” He placed his hands on his stomach and gave it a good jiggle. The two’s laughter stopped as they felt the ground rumble as Idzerd approached.

“Is everyone okay?!” Idzerd huffed, barely able to wobble, let alone walk. His chubby face frowned at the carnage he had caused. “I didn’t want any of this to happen! I swear!”

“You’re fine!” Gidarth said, wrapping his arm around Idzerd’s love handle and giving it a good squeeze. “We’re all okay!”

Erwind frowned. “Says you all. I’m going on a diet.”

Idzerd snickered. “I quite like it! Seems like you are the minority here, pal.”

The turtle turned to see the nobles still dining away, despite the curse having long worn off. It seemed like gluttony was out of the bag, and everyone didn’t seem to care that they were fattening themselves. Idzerd wrapped his hands around his belly and gave a deep-belly laugh as Erwind blushed.

“Good heavens!”

The voice was familiar, and sent Gidarth shivering to his core.

Gidarth and Erwind turned to see their father approach. He was an elderly dragon with green and gold scales, a sultry face, and long, combed-back frosty hair. He hardly looked like the father of the two blimps before him.

“My boys are giants! What happened here?!”

The three laughed as their father stood frozen, his thoughts reeling at the sight of his children. It took him a good long while and a lot of explaining to unravel what happened here. But there was a thought consuming every person’s mind–who had broken the necklace?

Some truths, it seemed, weren’t ready to be found. Not until their digestive systems settled, at least.