Chapter One Hundred and Eighty-Six - Ready to do Violence on Their Behalf

“This,” Momma said as she laid a scroll down onto the table. “Is a map of the area.” She spread the scroll open, revealing a map carefully drawn in soft greens and vibrant blues. A few marks here and there, with some careful handwriting next to them, indicating points of interest.

I noticed Insmouth to the south, tucked at the end of the bay, and Hopsalot nearer to the middle of the map.

“Alright,” I said as I stood next to Momma, my teacup cradled in both hands.

She touched the start of a river to the west, traced it through the centre of Hospalot, then tapped a point a bit to the east, an area that had a few hills and a little river crossing through it. “Right over here. The area’s been cleared of trees for a while now. There’s a dungeon here, an old one that we previously used to train. It’s been getting strange lately.”

“Another Evil Root?” Howard asked.

Quest Updated!
Trim the Cruel!
You have heard a rumour about an Evil Root! Discover more! Destroy it!

I looked to Amaryllis, then nodded when she met my eye.

“Possibly,” Momma said. “We’ve been thinking of sending some of our warriors over to see if something was up. The dungeon is set in the ruins of some ancient fort. Lots of weaker enemies to practice against. Now we’ve noticed that sometimes the water flowing from there is stagnant and foul.”

“Moving stagnant water?” Amaryllis asked.

“Yes,” Momma said. “Or at least, something like that. I’m afraid I don’t know much about it. We’ve been warning the little ones against drinking from the stream, and that we’ve been boiling our water to keep safe.”

“That’s probably a wise thing to do, in any case,” Bastion said. “So, if I understood correctly, you want to go see about this dungeon before the one in Insmouth?”

“Not quite,” Momma said. “I think we could fix this dungeon first, then see about the one in Insmouth. If we can’t fix this one, then it’s unlikely that we can help further south. That, and there are some old relics we sometimes find in those dungeons that might come in handy.”

Bastion tapped his fingers against the hilt of his sword. “How many floors does this dungeon have?”

“Nine,” Momma said.

“And you use it for practice?” he added, surprised.

“Buns tend to have a bit of wanderlust when they reach a certain age. We don’t like to send our young ones out into the world without them knowing how to defend themselves at least.”
Momma smiled rather wistfully. “Sometimes, even that isn’t enough. The world outside of Hopsalot can be a very dangerous place. But buns will be buns.”

“I see,” Bastion said. “What else can you tell us about the dungeon?”

Momma hummed. “The dungeon grew out of some ruins. In that regard, it’s a rather typical dungeon. Lots of simple traps. Skeletal enemies on the first few floors. The deeper down you go, the more difficult the enemy becomes to combat. It’s very much a magic and undeath-themed dungeon.”

I grinned. “We’ll get to fight skeletons?” I asked.

“I haven’t decided whether or not you should come,” Momma said.

I blinked. “Huh?”

“No offense, little bun, but you and your friends, with the exception of the fine Sylph paladin, are not on the stronger side. This is an old dungeon, with foes that you would have difficulty against.”

“Huh?” I repeated.

“You moron,” Amaryllis said. “Haven’t you looked at the levels of the adults around here?”

“No?” I tried. “Are they high?”

Momma giggled. “A little bit, yes. These forests are very dangerous.”

“But you have that font to keep things safe,” I said.

The bun matriarch shook her head. “No sweetie, the font only suppresses the number of creatures in this area. Those that come to Hopsalot tend to be quite fearsome.”

“But it looks so peaceful here.”

She nodded. “Of course it does. We keep it that way. The woods for a league around Hospalot are patrolled day and night by brave buns. They hunt and drive off the weaker creatures, and work together to bring down the stronger ones. Our peace is earned.”

Momma's speech gave off a scary vibe, and I couldn't help but lean back. “I didn’t know that,” I said. “I thought you were just, uh, really nice.”

“We are,” Momma said. “It’s a hard lesson for some young buns to learn, but niceness need not mean toothless.”

I tightened my fists by my sides and looked to the ground for a bit. It felt like I was being chastised by my mom for not doing the dishes or something. “Sorry,” I said.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” she replied.

Amaryllis sighed. “Broccoli is a particular kind of pacifist,” she said.

“What kind is that?” Momma asked.

“The dumb kind.”

“Amaryllis!” I complained. Awen, being the best, patted my shoulder for comfort.

“M-miss, um, Momma,” Awen said. “Other than our level, why couldn’t we come along?”

Momma hummed. “Perhaps we also don’t want to allow visitors to see our unique way of facing enemies,” the bun said.

“Oh!” I said. “Like the Way of the Mystic Bun?” I asked.

The woman stared. “Where did you hear of that, little bun?”

I shrugged. “It’s a skill I got, from my Cinnamon Bun Bun class. It came from merging... um, if I remember right, it was Hopping, which came from Jumping, and Physical Manakinesis. Oh, and I needed Kicking Combat Proficiency too.”

Momma looked me up and down, and I felt as if she was judging me a little, but not in a mean way. “Well, I suppose I can’t fault you if you came by it naturally. It’s a skill that a few buns here have, and one that we find quite useful. A clever bun can use it to take on a much bigger opponent. I hope it serves you well.”

“Does that mean we can come along?” I asked.

“You seem set on exploring this dungeon,” Momma said. “Yet you’re not close to your next class evolution yet. Why the hurry?”

“It’s about the adventure,” I said. “You can’t call yourself an explorer if you sit back and let others do all the snooping around.”

She smiled. “I suppose not. Give me a few moments. We were considering going to the dungeon in a few days, not so soon.”

“We could wait,” I said.

“Can we?” Amaryllis asked. “This detour is already eating up more of our time than I’d want, and whatever lead we had is now dwindling fast. As far as I can tell, what we’re doing here is giving these Buns a chance to prove that they can take care of the local Evil Root on their own. Then we can see about getting their help to Insmouth. It’s a transaction between Insmouth and Hopsalot. We can’t park ourselves here and meddle forever.”

“But we want to help both,” I said.

Amaryllis shook her head. “No, we want to play middleman so that if both sides come out for the better, we can reap some of the rewards. If things go bad, we aren’t responsible for helping them.”

“Amaryllis,” I said.

She huffed and turned away from me while crossing her wings. “You soft-hearted idiot. You know what we’re travelling to Sylphfree for, right? Averting a war ought to rank a lot higher than saving a pair of tiny villages way out in the middle of nowhere.”

I noticed Howard perking up at the last, but he remained quiet.

“I can’t ignore people that need help,” I said.

“I know. It’s part of what makes you the idiot you are. It’s also why I haven’t dragged you out of here by one ear yet. There’s a chance the buns here can take care of the root. If so, then that’s great. If not, then it’s not really our concern.”

Momma hummed a little tune. “I see you have some discussing to do,” she said. “If everyone is done with their tea, perhaps we can step out back and enjoy the garden while I talk to some of the other buns?”

Momma rolled up the map and looked like she was about to leave with it before she hesitated and placed it back onto the table. With a last smile, she picked up the cups left around and walked off.

“I think,” I said as soon as the kitchen door was closed. “That my stance is pretty obvious. It would be nice to be able to help, and we’d be making more friends along the way.”

“I think we ought to go,” Amaryllis said. “Not without bringing Howard here back, of course. We should keep our word, but we never agreed to any sort of extended stay.”

“I agree with Miss Albatross,” Bastion said.

“Really? I thought you’d be all for helping people,” I said.

“They seem rather competent already,” he said. “I doubt we could offer all that much help.”

I scrunched my nose as I thought. I didn’t see whatever Bastion saw when it came to the locals being competent. They were certainly very cute, but they didn’t look like fighters or anything like that. Just normal people with big fuzzy ears and widdle poof-ball tails.

“I... I think we should help,” Awen said.

I grinned over at her.

Then Amaryllis scoffed. “The way you’ve been staring at Momma I think you’d agree to anything she asks.”

Awen’s face reddened and her enthusiasm sputtered. “N-no no, that’s not true,” she said. “I was thinking about Rose. Rose things.”

I thought about it for a little bit. I was kind of acting rashly, Amaryllis was right about that much. My instinct to try and help was maybe getting in between me and my common sense. Insmouth wasn’t my responsibility, but it was suffering from an Evil Root problem, and in a way that was my problem.

On the other hand, our mission was to reach out to try and stop an entire war. A war!

I didn’t know if wars on Dirt were anything like those on Earth. I imagined they were a whole lot different. But they were probably just as bad. People trying to hurt others on a grand scale. That was awful to think about, and if we failed to stop that, then, in a way, it would be somewhat our fault.

I chewed on my lip a bit while tuning out Amaryllis and Bastion’s discussion. They were arguing about how they could get back.

“I think I’ll stay here,” I said.

Their discussion cut off.

“What?” Amaryllis asked.

“I think I’ll stay here. In Hopsalot,” I said. “We need to pass by here on the way north anyway. So you could always just pick me up on the way back. You guys can bring Howard home, then pick me up on the way back.”

“And what, pray tell, will you be doing here?” Amaryllis asked.

“Helping with the dungeon. Maybe if I help they’ll be able to find some way to break the Evil Root. And maybe that’ll be enough to fix everything. One more pair of hands might not be much, but it might make the difference.”

Amaryllis covered her face with her talons. “You idiot,” she said. “Have you really made up your mind?”

I nodded. “I know that there’s a chance that this will make us late, and that that could be bad. But we can help here, now, and if we don’t do that just because there’s a chance that we might not be able to help someone later.” I squirmed a little. “I don’t want to be that kind of bun.”

Amaryllis threw her wings into the air. “Fine! You obstinate idiot.”

“Wow,” I said. I couldn’t help but smile as that tiny knot in my tummy at the thought of my friends being angry came apart. “You gave in fast,” I said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe you wanted to help all along, but just weren’t sure?”

Awen nodded. “Amaryllis is a good person, deep, deep inside.”

“Deep... you’re both idiots. And you both know that Momma hasn’t agreed to anything. There’s still a chance she’ll flat out refuse to let us come.”

“I think that the gesture will count for a lot then,” I said.

***