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Description
Dressed in the simple garb of a tavern maid, I navigated the day with a blend of apprehension and resolve. The inn was a hive of activity, its patrons a mosaic of characters, each with their own stories etched into the lines of their faces. I moved among them, a silent observer, serving and listening, always listening, for any word that might lead me back to Sarah.

The work was hard but honest, a stark contrast to the intrigues and dangers we'd encountered in our travels. Yet, it was during one such routine task, as I balanced a tray laden with drinks, that I overheard a conversation that sent a chill down my spine. Two women, their eyes sharp and calculating, were appraising me not as a person but as an object, a potential "addition" for their brothel. Their words, laden with intentions that twisted my stomach, were a stark reminder of the vulnerabilities that came with being a woman in this realm.

I tried to dismiss their words, to focus on the task at hand, but their scrutiny felt like a weight, an unwelcome shadow over my day. It was on my next approach, as I neared their table with a fresh round of drinks, that the older of the two leaned in, her voice a hiss of incantation. The magic, unexpected and unasked for, surged through me, altering my form in a way that was both invasive and terrifying. My body reacted, betraying me, as my breasts grew in size, straining against the fabric of my dress. The physical change was a shock, a violation of my autonomy that left me reeling.

Desperation clawed at my chest as I fled to the backroom, away from the prying eyes and the whispered judgements. The sanctuary of the small space was a balm, but it did little to ease the turmoil within. My breaths came in short gasps, a physical manifestation of the panic that threatened to consume me. This was not the first time I had found myself transformed against my will, but the familiarity of the experience did nothing to soften its impact.

Alone, I grappled with the implications of the incantation. The change was not just physical; it was a reminder of the power others wielded in this realm, a power that could alter the very essence of a person without consent. My thoughts raced, a torrent of fear and indignation. How could I reverse this? What did this mean for my search for Sarah? The questions spun, a dizzying whirlwind that found no purchase.

But amidst the chaos of my thoughts, a spark of resolve took flame. I had faced challenges before, had navigated realms and identities with a strength I hadn't known I possessed. This, too, was a trial, another test of my resilience. I would not allow this violation to define me or deter me from my purpose.

Drawing a deep breath, I steadied myself. The road ahead was uncertain, fraught with dangers both known and unknown, but I was no stranger to adversity. With a determination that was born of necessity, I resolved to confront the women, to demand the reversal of their magic. If words failed, then I would find another way, a solution that lay in my own power, my own resourcefulness.

The backroom, with its quiet and solitude, offered a moment of respite, a chance to gather my strength. I was a realm traveler, a survivor of worlds and circumstances far beyond the ordinary. This was but another challenge to overcome, another story to weave into the tapestry of my journey. With resolve hardened, I stepped back into the fray, ready to face whatever lay ahead.

Description
Dressed in the simple garb of a tavern maid, I navigated the day with a blend of apprehension and resolve. The inn was a hive of activity, its patrons a mosaic of characters, each with their own stories etched into the lines of their faces. I moved among them, a silent observer, serving and listening, always listening, for any word that might lead me back to Sarah.

The work was hard but honest, a stark contrast to the intrigues and dangers we'd encountered in our travels. Yet, it was during one such routine task, as I balanced a tray laden with drinks, that I overheard a conversation that sent a chill down my spine. Two women, their eyes sharp and calculating, were appraising me not as a person but as an object, a potential "addition" for their brothel. Their words, laden with intentions that twisted my stomach, were a stark reminder of the vulnerabilities that came with being a woman in this realm.

I tried to dismiss their words, to focus on the task at hand, but their scrutiny felt like a weight, an unwelcome shadow over my day. It was on my next approach, as I neared their table with a fresh round of drinks, that the older of the two leaned in, her voice a hiss of incantation. The magic, unexpected and unasked for, surged through me, altering my form in a way that was both invasive and terrifying. My body reacted, betraying me, as my breasts grew in size, straining against the fabric of my dress. The physical change was a shock, a violation of my autonomy that left me reeling.

Desperation clawed at my chest as I fled to the backroom, away from the prying eyes and the whispered judgements. The sanctuary of the small space was a balm, but it did little to ease the turmoil within. My breaths came in short gasps, a physical manifestation of the panic that threatened to consume me. This was not the first time I had found myself transformed against my will, but the familiarity of the experience did nothing to soften its impact.

Alone, I grappled with the implications of the incantation. The change was not just physical; it was a reminder of the power others wielded in this realm, a power that could alter the very essence of a person without consent. My thoughts raced, a torrent of fear and indignation. How could I reverse this? What did this mean for my search for Sarah? The questions spun, a dizzying whirlwind that found no purchase.

But amidst the chaos of my thoughts, a spark of resolve took flame. I had faced challenges before, had navigated realms and identities with a strength I hadn't known I possessed. This, too, was a trial, another test of my resilience. I would not allow this violation to define me or deter me from my purpose.

Drawing a deep breath, I steadied myself. The road ahead was uncertain, fraught with dangers both known and unknown, but I was no stranger to adversity. With a determination that was born of necessity, I resolved to confront the women, to demand the reversal of their magic. If words failed, then I would find another way, a solution that lay in my own power, my own resourcefulness.

The backroom, with its quiet and solitude, offered a moment of respite, a chance to gather my strength. I was a realm traveler, a survivor of worlds and circumstances far beyond the ordinary. This was but another challenge to overcome, another story to weave into the tapestry of my journey. With resolve hardened, I stepped back into the fray, ready to face whatever lay ahead.