>>17977050"Magical herbs you say?"
Despite being a bit drunk and out of it, Gallade takes suspicion to your sudden interest in magic, but doesn't let it show, "Oh ye, indeed. It 'tis in a variety of ways, both a blessin' and a curse. See. the flora growing on the Herbicicide 'tis miraculous, they can heal /any/ ailment in their base state, and their potential becomes limitless when mixed with other stuff!"
"Aaaaand... It doesn't like to share or something?"
Gallade shakes his weary head, "'Tis much easier to say it shared /too much/. See, backeth in olde times, those despicable witches kept abusin' and misusin' the Herbicicide's givings as ingredients in the most evil and malevolent of spells! Those little pricks heldeth no respect for the beast--so eventually it sought to groweth /one/ flower to do everything its other herbs could do--and more. That which we calleth the Wallflower, and the beast's rage knoweth no bounds when the flower is not in its possession. That's why we always ensure to keepeth thou flower here at all times, lest doth town ends up a hundred feet deepeth in a dark sinkhole."
By this point, you're not so sure who's the bad guy here--the witches or these townsfolk attempting to appease a natural behemoth through all necessary means.
In order to pace around and retrace your steps, you make way to leave, "Thanks for your help, local mayoral drunk, I'll make sure not to credit your dumb face when someone asks me who helped me out with all this briefing. Your secret is safe."
