Chapter Seventy-Six - How Droll

I stopped at the first flower that caught my eye. Or, well, the first flower that caught my eye and that was well within reach.

The valley was filled with them, as if someone had planted a wonderful garden in this corner of the world where only the observant and lucky would find it.

A healthy Zoro Aster.

“Hrm,” I said as I gave the purple, star-shaped flower a sniff. It smelled nice, and looked nice, but that’s all I could really say about it. “I’m going to look at a few of these flowers. Amaryllis could you mark the area on a map? I think that was part of the mission too.”

“Sure,” Amaryllis said. She took a deep breath and let it out as a contented sigh. Even my prickly bird friend couldn’t resist the allure of so much prettiness in one place.

Orange took three steps forward upon landing on the ground from her perch on Amaryllis shoulder, then she flopped onto her side.

I dropped my backpack down, fetched my herbology book and fell onto my knees next to the patch of flowers.

Zoro Aster
An uncommon flower found in large patches, usually near other flowers and in areas with potent life mana. The Zoro Aster has few uses, though its flowers can be used to make a potion that cures one of the afflictions caused by negative or so-called evil mana. The flower is otherwise harmless and is prized in some areas as a sign of peace and fertility.

“Cool,” I said as I set the book aside. Reaching out, I rubbed one of the flowers, then gave the plant a hearty pat. “I’m just taking the one flower, okay?”

When I had a sample placed away I moved on to the next flower.

“Awen, Amaryllis, you two can explore or whatever,” I said. “I don’t think this place will have any mean plants.”

“Awa, o-okay,” Awen said. She stepped up, looked at the sea of plants around her, then with her fists clenched and her bravery shored up, she pushed forward and started looking around.

She squeaked when a bee buzzed by her head, but other than that, she seemed to have the hang of if. More or less.

“I’m going to go keep an eye on her,” Amaryllis said as she got up and poofed the notepad she had been scribbling in.

“That might be for the best,” I agreed. Awen was adorable and she had the makings of a truly great friend, but she was a bit... unprepared for the great outdoors. We didn’t need her having a panic attack because she saw a wasp. Even if wasps were evil.

I moved over to a patch of yellow flowers growing on tall stalks. They had strange pointed petals, like a daffodil, but a little longer and spikier.

“Hello pretty,” I said. “Insight?”

A daft o’ dill in full bloom.

I snorted at the name and looked through my book until I found a page with a drawing of the plant in question. There was more than one name for it in the tome.

Daft O’Dill / Yellow Moron
A common flower of the Amaryllis family of plants. These perennials grow in early Spring and late Autumn and produce beautiful and fragrant plants. Prized by many for their resilience and ease of care, they are nonetheless a minor threat and nuisance to the unwary. The flower produces a sweet, tasty nectar around a seed that will attract small animals. The flower spreads by germinating wherever the eater excretes the seed post-consumption.

The nectar of this plant is a non-lethal poison that will cause a sharp decrease in the consumer’s mental faculties for a short period of time. Feelings of confusion can last for up to a day, depending on the amount of nectar consumed.

A common ingredient in many tinctures and poisons meant to incapacitate.

I slapped a hand over my mouth to hold back a giggle. I had to show Amaryllis the entry about this flower.

Careful not to get any on my hands, I put some nectar on a piece of paper, then folded it up into a small envelope as a sample for later.

I was moving over to the next flower when I heard a call. “Broccoli!” It was Amaryllis’ voice, and she sounded as if she might be afraid.

Picking up my shovel and tossing my backpack back on, I ran through the flowery field in search of my friends.

They weren’t difficult to find. The two of them were taller than most of the bushes around and Awen was waving at me to come closer.

I hopped over some flowers, because trampling them would be too rude, and landed near the girls with my shovel ready and my senses primed for trouble. “What’s going on?” I asked.

Then I saw it.

There was a small pond here, probably because this was the lowest point between the two hills flanking both sides of the valley and this was where any rainwater would naturally gather. Next to that pond, resting on a little pool of blood, was a body.

No, not a body, I realized as I saw the faint motion of a chest moving up and down with in-drawn breaths.

Amaryllis turned the person over and I gasped.

They were small. Only about as tall as my waist, with a fur-covered body, except for its big, very human ears and a round patch over its exposed tummy. For all that it was small, the creature was obviously muscular, with bulging forearms and skin that was taut over its exposed calves. They were wearing some clothes, but it was very basic. Pants made from some sort of leather and a jacket with a bunch of crude pouches on it.

They looked vaguely dog-like, with an elongated snout and a very boopable nose, but when they opened their mouth to wince in pain it showed off twin rows of crookedy sharp teeth that looked like they belonged more on a piranha than a dog.

“Uh,” I said.

“Awa, it’s a d-droll,” Awen said. She shifted next to me, hands working open and closed with nervous energy.

“Oh,” I said. “Um. Do healing potions work on them?” I asked as I shucked off my backpack and reached into my bandoleer.

Amaryllis leaned over the droll and ran her talons over his side until she found a large gash cut into its side. It was a nasty looking cut and was still bleeding quite profusely. “We can try,” she said.

I handed her the potion, my last one. She yanked the cork out with her teeth and spat it aside before tipping it into the dog-person’s mouth. When it was empty she tossed the vial up to me and I replaced it in my bandoleer.

“Is it working?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Amaryllis said.

The droll coughed, its stubby little arms--which I noticed ended in paw-like hands, curling over its stomach. It pressed against its side, dabbing at the blood there, but also revealing the healing wound.

“Don’t move,” I said as I kneeled next to the little droll and held it down gently. “I’m going to use some cleaning magic on you, okay?”

The droll nodded their head and locked brown doggy eyes with me.

I pressed a hand against their fur and pushed some cleaning magic into them, focusing mostly on cleaning out their wound. It reopened some of it where there had been some scabs forming, but it was better than allowing an infection to settle in.

“Awen, can you pass me a bottle of water please?”

"Awa, yes!”

I took the bottle from Awen and fell onto my knees next to the droll. Carefully, I helped them sit up and brought the bottle close to their lips. “There, drink. It’s just water, but it’ll help you keep your strength up.”

The droll swallowed a few times, then stopped to pant in a very dog-like way. “Thank you, human,” he said. At least, his voice was deep and definitely masculine.

I smiled. “No problem. How’s your HP?”

He seemed to think about that for a moment, then his eyes glazed. “Seven paws,” he said.

“Huh?” I said. It took a moment for that to register. He had five toes per paw, so that was... thirty-five? Or did drolls not count the strange big-toe? That would put him at twenty-eight health points. Neither option was very good. “Amaryllis do you have another potion?”

Amaryllis nodded and poofed a pen and paper into existence from her ring and got to writing.

“We’ll make sure you are nice and healthy,” I said. “Don’t you worry.”

“Thank you, human,” he said.

“I’m Broccoli, Broccoli Bunch,” I said with a beaming smile.

The droll smiled back and I had to hold back a wince at how strange it looked. “Thank you, Broccoli. I am Barks at Squirrels.”

I clamped my jaw shut to stop a very inappropriate giggle from escaping. “Ah, well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Barks... at Squirrels. Did you run into a monster?”

The droll shook his head. “No.... yes. A monster, but not one that should be here. The scent, it’s become all wrong.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

Barks at Squirrels’ answer was delayed as Amaryllis passed me a potion bottle that I handed to the droll. “Thank you,” he said before he drank the potion in one gulp. “The glass golems of the shard dungeon, they used to be dangerous, but they would stand their ground. They marked their territory and would stay in it. Now they are broken, and they roam around and attack. It is dangerous.”

I looked up to Amaryllis. “Maybe we should keep an eye out for those,” I said.

“For what?” she asked. “You’ve been growling and barking like a mad woman for the last few minutes. If you expect me to understand you then I’m afraid that your sense of observation is lacking. I’m a harpy, not a mutt.”

“Oh,” I said. My translation thing must have kicked in.

“Awa, it’s very impressive that Miss Broccoli can speak Drollish.”

“Thanks,” I said. It was hardly that impressive. I never worked for that ability, so I couldn’t exactly be proud of it. “Barks at Squirrels here said that he was attacked by some sort of glass golem? They apparently used to be territorial, but now they’re roaming around?”

“Ahh,” Awen said. “There’s a dungeon that has lots of glass things in it near the desert. It should be close by.”

“Well, we’ve healed... Barks at Squirrels, here,” Amaryllis said. “We should be on our way.”

I gave Amaryllis a look before turning back to the Droll. “Do you need help getting back to your home?” I asked.

The dog’s eyes widened a little. “Would you do this for me?”

“Of course we would. What if you got attacked again? We wouldn’t want to lose a friend.” I patted the droll on the head, then realized what I was doing and pulled my hand back as if I’d patted a stove instead of a fluffy head.

Barks at Squirrels didn’t seem to mind. He groaned as he turned around and stayed on all fours for a long moment before pushing himself up to his feet. He was a little unsteady, and it was clear that his side still hurt, but he didn’t look that badly off. “I can make it. The pack is a quarter day’s walk desertwards.”

I nodded. “Let me tell my friends,” I said before turning to the others. “He says that their pack is a bit of a walk towards the desert. That’s more or less the direction we’re going in, right?”

“You’re going to make us help this mutt, aren’t you?” Amaryllis asked. She didn’t even wait for me to answer. “Of course you will. You moron. Awen, are the droll dangerous?”

“N-no? They’re mostly nice. They might fight back, um, if you try to hurt them, but they’re mostly nice.”

I smiled at Amaryllis until she crumbled. “Fine.”

“Did you hear that, Barks? We’re going to bring you home!”