Karen hated winter. The beauty of a fresh snow glistening in the sunlight was lost to her as she trudged through it, nearing the town of Draketon. She could see the outline of the town ahead of her as she crested a hill. Smoke was rising out of the chimneys lazily and people were set out to do the day's activities. In the center of town was the reason for Karen's travels: a large glass structure twice as big as any other building in town, called a greenhouse by the guardsman who had told her about it back in Lothrong. Apparently it grew plants all year round, and that was just what Karen needed. She reached up and checked her ears out of habit, glad to feel that they were still normal for now, her curse not starting to break through the Azuchroma in her system. She was worried, though. She had only two flowers left, which wasn't really enough to stop her changes if she let them get bad enough, and they were wilting more and more in this weather, no doubt lessening their magical properties. Sighing, Karen headed down the hill towards the town.
Phil walked with pride as he came down the hill from the mountains with purpose and speed, a medium satchel tied to his belt clinking as he walked, the contents inside harmlessly hitting against itself. He had just completed his latest exploration of the caves that littered Drake Mountain, rumored to have once been the home to hundreds of dragons...or was it giant tunneling worms? That didn't matter to Phil, as they were filled with gemstones, and he had found a fair amount this trip, enough to buy a proper house in town, rather than live in that shack he was currently occupying up near the mountain. His thoughts of a warm and cozy cottage filled him as he began jogging into town.
"You're kidding, right?" Karen asked the florist in the greenhouse. But the florist, a shy looking doe anthro, calmly shook her head.
"I'm afraid not. Azuchroma is such a rare flower. 100 Gold is the best I can do," she responded quietly. "I have other options that are less dear if you like."
"No, I need Azuchroma. How about a bulk discount?" Karen asked, getting agitated. "If you give me them for 25 each, I can take a dozen off you today and buy more in the future."
"I'm sorry, madam," the doe said, shrinking back a bit at Karen's tone, "but I wouldn't be able to sell you twelve, even at full price, that would wipe out all of my plants and I wouldn't be able to grow more."
Karen took a deep breath and calmed herself. She didn't want to frighten the doe. They were known to be a bit more skittish than other anthros, and this one's demeanor wasn't helping.
"Is there any price that you would sell me the dozen you have at? I need them very badly," Karen said calmly.
The florist thought carefully for a moment, her ears moving occasionally. "If you are able to get me a Drakestone, I will give you them, but you must let me extract some seeds from them," she responded confidently.
"Drakestone? I've never heard of that. Why would you want one anyway? You're a florist." Karen asked, a bit happier that there was at least hope.
"The Drakestone is a rare gem found only on Drake Mountain outside of town. It is said to have magical properties that would allow my plants to grow three times as fast," the deer said, seeming to daydream a bit as she spoke.
"I will get you the Drakestone, but I need the flowers for magical purposes, so I also need the seeds," Karen said sternly. "Will these suffice to allow you to start growing them again?" Karen asked, taking out the case with her two remaining wilted flowers and showing them to the deer.
The doe's ears perked up as she saw the Azuchroma. She gingerly picked them up with her hoof-tipped hands and examined them. Karen was a little amazed at how delicate she was, considering her own experiences when her hands were part hoof. "These will work, but I need to use them immediately, otherwise they'll be useless," the deer said, gently placing the flowers on the counter.
"Take them then, as a deposit. I will be back with your Drakestone as quickly as possible," Karen said, smiling. "Thank you, Mrs...?"
"Oh, just call me Buttercup, that's what everyone does," the doe said, smiling and shaking Karen's hand. "I never got your name..."
"My name is Karen, and I will see you soon...hopefully," Karen said, leaving the greenhouse.
"Now how to find that stone," Karen said to herself, looking up at the mountain that looked over the town. Perhaps she could find some help at the local pub, maybe a miner who wouldn't mind some side work. Looking down the road, she headed out to find it.
"Another round for me and my friends!" Phil shouted a bit drunkenly as the tavern erupted with cheering at his announcement. He didn't remember having so many friends, but who cared? It would be nice to know more people in the town he would be living in shortly. He had gone to the town hall to see about a cottage, but they had been to lunch, so Phil figured why not grab a bite himself. Unbeknownst to Phil, that had been four hours ago, and his quick lunch had turned into an afternoon of revelry for half the town on his dime.
Phil stumbled back as he took a long gulp of his latest drink, bumping into a patron who had just entered the bar. "Sorry, ma'ammm," he slurred as he backed away from the tall woman in leather armor, who continued on her way after scowling at him.
Maybe he had had enough, Phil thought as he returned to his bar stool, watching the barmaids handing out the tankards he had just bought for everyone. He'd best get some rest and go back to town hall in the morning with a clear head. Signaling the bartender, he put a night's stay on his tab and headed upstairs to sleep it off.
Karen, meanwhile, inquired at the bar about Drake Mountain and any locals who knew the caves. The bartender replied that most in the room had spent most of their lives mining out the mountain. However, with all the occupants of the bar drunk on Phil's free drinks, Karen simply put up a want ad on the job board and hoped a few would be looking for extra cash when they woke up and realized how big their tabs were.
"Ooooh, my head," was all Phil could say as he descended the stairs in the morning. His head felt like someone was trying to cleave it open, and by the moans of the still-sleeping patrons in the bar area, he was not the only one.
"HOW MUCH!?!" Phil shouted, grasping his head in pain at the loudness of his own voice as he reacted to the bill the bartender had just handed him.
"1500 Gold, lad, and that's a discount. You bought drinks for everyone in the bar for hours yesterday," the gruff bartender, a stout but muscular man with a thick orange beard, responded.
