The Ballad of Adler Young, Canto 2.5

>What is this burning thing this fellow is holding in his hooves ?
>Stoned Buck: Inform Adler about those secret tunnels that lead into the city that even he didn't know about, chickabiddy.
>Adler: *cough* While that's good news, where did he get that horrible thing he's smoking?
P.U.S., continue asking Adler a bunch of questions while repeatedly offering him the weedstick.
Adler, remember a Wise Professor Skunk scroll from your youth, the one about being offered strange herbs.

"How many meals away from the Capital are you, man?" the stranger pried. "Is it more than nine? Army's gotta eat, man."

"Who are you, and what is that horrible thing you're smoking?" I asked.

"I'm just a helpful dude, man," the stranger replied. "It's my mission to like, tell you about the secret tunnels into Albric Tor that nobody knows about. You want a hit off of this thing, man?"

"No, it smells awful," I refused. "Besides, Wise Professor Skunk says you shouldn't smoke pipeweed, and especially never a mysterious foul-smelling blend offered by a stranger."

"Whatta square, man," the stranger wheezed after taking a long pull on his weedstick. "You sure? It's pretty good stuff."

>Stoned Buck: You, like, got it from that bread lady, hodad. She said something about it being left over from making bread.
Adler, turn the tables on the P.U.S. by starting to ask him questions.
Also ask him that one question: "How high is a roebuck?"

"Where did you even get it?" I asked as I tried to fan the fumes away.

"Can't tell you, man," the stranger smirked. "The bread floozy would be like totally pissed if I blabbed that it was left over from baking the latest batch."

"Indeed, she probably would," I smirked. "What's your name? Who sent you? How high is a roebuck?"



"Aw crap, man, I can't tell you that!" the stranger exclaimed with a panicked look in his eyes. "Not high enough, is all I'm gonna say."

one of their agent just offered 'free sandwiches'. ...Oh dear your troops might have a bad bad surprise
>Army: Start feeling a little funkier, and a whole lot groovier...
start noticing strange symptoms on every soldier who ate the bread.

"Arrest this interloper!" I commanded. "And seize that baker's floozy! And don't eat any more of that bread! It's tainted with .."



Nobody responded to my orders. All of my soldiers seemed to be staring into space, in some sort of daze.

"D'YE KEN MY MEANIN?" MacBrock bellowed dreamily as he waved his hands in front of his face.

"Whooooahhhh," his dining companion exclaimed as he watched the badger's fingers with unfeigned fascination.

you found a much less violent but jsut as debilitating alternative to the Plague of battle to use on the loyalist troops...
>Thomson: Go beat up your rival at the bread stand. She may be better at law and floozing, but she can't throw a punch and has a jaw made of glass.
>ADLER: You can't trust any kind of floozy anymore, apprehend the baker and interrogate her

"Whatever herbalism or magick is at work here would be very useful if we can turn it to our advantage," I observed. "We need that recipe. How can we get the remaining loaves from that floozy?"

"Leave it to me, Your Highness," Thomson grunted. "I've wanted to do this for a long time."



Without another word, she rushed up to Miss Thompson (for that is who the baker's floozy was) and clouted her in the jaw with a savage right hoof.

>Unfortunately, that punch isn't quite enough to make up for the lifetime of torment and bullying Thomson had to endure. Surprisingly, it's Burnside that restrains her to prevent things from going too far.
>That right hook had a bit too much payback in it. Thompson is out cold.
>Dang-it. You can't interrogate her if she's unconscious. Maybe Estvan could do that bowl thing again to see into her thoughts.
>Estvan: Be puffing about a dozen of those weedsticks all at once with no effect. You've been around awhile. Everyone else is just a lightweight.
>Burnside: It's up to you to interrogate that stoned buck. Crack your knuckles and grab your knife. It's time to earn your keep.
>Adler: Here's a thought, what if you put all that tainted weed-bread into a stew and offer it up to the opposing side as some sort of honorable gesture or peace offering. Your stew is so legendary that they'd eat it no matter how suspicious it was. Then when they're all sprawled out and pondering if reality is real, you just walk in and plant your flag. Boom! You win. You do have a flag right? That's the most important part.

Flag, and a decapitated king, can't forget that part. Very important for regime changes.

Adler, discover that things are starting to look odd. Realize too late that the fumes the P.U.S. blew into your face are affecting you.

P.U.S., go break up the fight. Where would you get your special pipeweed if your sole supplier in town is gone? Be rather ineffective, though.

Army, begin acting even more strangely.

>Unfortunately, that punch isn't quite enough to make up for the lifetime of torment and bullying Thomson had to endure. Surprisingly, it's Burnside that restrains her to prevent things from going too far.

Miss Thompson fell limply to the ground. Ms. Thomson pounced on her and continued viciously beating the unconscious Floozy.

"This is for all those times at the Academy!" Thomson snarled between punches. "This is for the incident at the dining hall! This is for short-sheeting my bed! This is for stealing my corset stays! And this one's for Gary!"

"All right, all right!" Burnside grunted as she tried to pull Thomson off of her victim. "You done made your point. She's had enough! Won't do no good to get carried away; that's my job. Come on now, simmer down!"

>That right hook had a bit too much payback in it. Thompson is out cold.
>Dang-it. You can't interrogate her if she's unconscious.
>Adler: Here's a thought, what if you put all that tainted weed-bread into a stew and offer it up to the opposing side
Adler, discover that things are starting to look odd. Realize too late that the fumes the P.U.S. blew into your face are affecting you.
P.U.S., break up the fight. Where would you get your special pipeweed if your sole supplier in town is gone? Be rather ineffective, though.

"THOMMMMSONNNN," I yelled while waving my hand very slowly. I felt as if I were moving through thick syrup. Blast it! The fumes from that infernal buck's weed-stick were starting to affect me! "SSSTOP! WE NEEED TO QUESSSSTION HERRRR!"

"Yeah man," the stranger chimed in. "Like, I can't stand the sight of violence. Plus, that chick is my only source for the good stuff, man. Don't hurt her!"

"Sorry," Thomson panted. "I don't know what came over me .. whew .. I'm okay now."

"Yeah, but the bread Floozy is out cold," Burnside observed. "Ain't gettin' nothin outta her right now."

"MAYBEEE THISSS GUY KNOWWWSS SOMMMMETHING," I theorized, pointing at the stranger.

>Burnside: It's up to you to interrogate that stoned buck. Crack your knuckles and grab your knife.

"Grab 'im," Burnside barked. Thomson immediately nabbed the stranger and pinned his arms behind his back.



"Now this here is somethin' I'm good at," Burnside chuckled as she pulled some sharp metal implements from her Elfintory. "The point is to make you talk, but don't start talkin' too quick, else I won't get to have no fun."

"I don't know anything, man!" the stranger protested. "I'm just an errand buck, man! They don't tell me spraint!"

"Let's start with maybe who 'they' are," Burnside suggested.

>Estvan: Be puffing about a dozen of those weedsticks all at once with no effect. You've been around awhile. Everyone else is just a lightweight.

"Not meanin' to usurp your command, boyo," Estvan muttered as he clapped his hand on my shoulder. "But begorrah, I can't stand by an' watch an elf bein' tortured. Sure an' the Antglade an' the Sisterhood may be comfortable with such Unseelie acts, but it isn't my style at all, at all."

"HOWW ARE YOU STILL FFFUNCTIONING WITH ALL THAAAT WEIRRRD WWWEED?" I asked, noticing three smoldering stubs in the old fox's mouth.

"Hudalaleigh, tis but a reminder of me youth. Back in the Long Ago, for fun we used to partake of such intoxicants as would knock you modern elves stone dead. Lightweights, ye are! Sure an' it'd be instructive as well as enlightenin' to show ye all how to properly indulge, but we haven't the time to waste. I'll take charge o' the surplus so you lot o' elflets don't hurt yourselves with it."

"HOWW CAN WEEEE GET THE INNNTELLLL WEEEE NEEEEED?" I asked him.

"Sure an' Buck Naked over there is too baked to tell ye much of use. He said he knew nothing, an' elves don't lie at all, at all. But that bonny hoof-lass might know quite a bit."

"BUUUT SSSSHEEE'S UNNNCONSCIOUS."

Estvan could do that bowl thing again to see into her thoughts.

Estvan darted over to Miss Thompson's side and set a bowl of water on the ground next to her.

"Sure an' you'll recall there is a way to see what a sleeper is thinkin," he chuckled.

>Adler: It'll take Estvan a minute to set up; it's too hard to focus through the haze, see if Brother Matthias can do something about this.
>Brother Matthias: "Duuuuuuuuuude..."
>Adler: "Of course he is, why wouldn't he be?"

>Adler: Trying to use Estvan's magic bowl while under the influence produces some unforeseen results. It's a lot more "immersive" than last time.
>Miss Thompson is dreaming about having tea with giant lobsters on the moon. This is hardly relevant, maybe you can influence what she thinks about by whispering into her unconscious ear.

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Spoiler

">Something, something, FELF!!?"
I'm pretty sure that this one would make no sense with the plot as we know it so far.

Point taken. Let me redact that and instead say,
>Let us discuss butterflies instead.

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Spoiler>Hold on, what's this? Miss Thompson is working for the queen, not surprising. There's more, the queen if working for... No, partnered with... Partnered with who? Partnered with... With FELF!!?

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Spoiler(... I 'm sorry but I'm pretty sure that this one would make no sense with the plot as we know it so far.
FELF hasn't appeared much but everything we know of them (which showed them tryng to tear down the royal family and th fairfax arch) and of the Queen (who istrying to kep Estmere ont h throne so she can be y'know, th rulling queen) would indicate they work at cross purpose.

Just saying if this become a thing I really hope it get explained later.)

>You haven't even smoked the damn thing, you whimp. Just shake it off .you light weight.
>someone: be willing to help the prince shake it off by vigorous application of a couple of slapps int he face
>Scutti in chief: since you ate the bread, start ranting incoherently. somene notices.

All Miss Thompson wants for Solstice is her two front teeth...

All Miss Thompson wants for Solstice is her two front teeth...

Forget it. Now she can start for the Maple Leafs!

All Miss Thompson wants for Solstice is her two front teeth...

Forget it. Now she can start for the Maple Leafs!

>Estvan: See what Miss Thompson is dreaming.

>Miss Thompson: For some odd reason, dream of being dressed in a jersey with a maple leaf on the front, holding an odd straight stick, bent at an angle at one end.

>Miss Thompson: For some odd reason, dream of being dressed in a jersey with a maple leaf on the front, holding an odd straight stick, bent at an angle at one end.

Hello, Persoc Tor, and hockey fans in the Empire and Elfhame!

https://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OL8nH1IzKpQ/T...p++Day.jpg

>Burnside: Torture the stoner buck by taking his weedstick away and holding it just out of reach

>MacBrock: Suddenly the munchies hit you

>MacBrock: Suddenly the munchies hit you

Army, run out of food again.

Burnside, threaten the P.U.S. to cut off certain "dangling bits" off his anatomy.
Threat, be surprisingly ineffective.

Then change tactics and threaten him to shave embarrassing patterns in his fur.
Threat, be surprisingly effective.

Burnside, learn the buck's name and a bunch of interesting, but useless trivia about him. Then fall under the effect of the smoke yourself.

>Adler: Trying to use Estvan's magic bowl while under the influence produces some unforeseen results. It's a lot more "immersive" than last time.
>Miss Thompson is dreaming about having tea with giant lobsters on the moon.
>Miss Thompson: For some odd reason, dream of .. a maple leaf

I knelt next to Miss Thompson and peered into the dream-scrying bowl.

"WHOOOAH," I exclaimed, as visions of tea-sipping lobsters and maple leaves seemed to emerge from the water and swirl around me.

"Is it anythin' useful you're gettin' from her, lad?" Estvan inquired.

This is hardly relevant, maybe you can influence what she thinks about by whispering into her unconscious ear.
>Let us discuss butterflies instead.

I shook my head. "NNNOT REEEALLLYY."

"Sure an' ye should use subliminal suggestion to steer her thoughts in the right direction," the old fox suggested.

"TELLL MMMEE ABOOOUT THE BUUUTTERFFFFLIIIIIES," I murmured towards Thompson's ear.

>You haven't even smoked the damn thing, you whimp. Just shake it off .you light weight.
>someone: be willing to help the prince shake it off by vigorous application of a couple of slapps

"Begorrah," Estvan snapped, as he slapped me on the back of my head. "Shake it off, ya spalpeen! Sure an' ye only smelled the thing; twasn't enough to inebriate a mosquito! We've no time to be wastin' on this foolishness, so it's I'll be questionin' the Floozy while you put a stop to these Unseelie shenanigans that're happenin' amongst your allies."

>Burnside: Torture the stoner buck by taking his weedstick away and holding it just out of reach

I turned in the direction Estvan pointed, to see Burnside waving the stranger's smoke-stick in front of his face while Thomson held him fast.

"Hey come on, man!" the stranger sobbed. "Don't Humphrey the weedstick, man! Give it back! I'll talk! I'll talk!!"

"Well then start talkin, son," Burnside cackled with malicious glee.

Burnside, learn the buck's name and a bunch of interesting, but useless trivia about him. Then fall under the effect of the smoke yourself.

"My real name is actually Speedy, but everybody calls me Earl," the stranger sobbed. "I played badminton in school and could have gone pro but my career was cut short when I took a shuttlecock to the knee. I enjoy knitting and flower arranging. My favorite food is soup. I like long walks by firelight and romantic picnics in the ocean. My biggest turn-offs are encyclopedias and people who steal my weedstick."



"What's so great about this rancid stuff anyways?" Burnside asked. "It smells like a buncha dirty diapers in a cinder barrel. And stop changin' colors when I'm talkin' to you, bwah!!"

>Scutti in chief: since you ate the bread, start ranting incoherently.
>MacBrock: Suddenly the munchies hit you
Army, run out of food again.

Suddenly one of the solders stood up and began yelling as he lashed his luxurious white tail angrily back and forth.

"WHY ARE WE WASTING TIME LOLLYGAGGING AROUND HERE?" he bellowed. "WHEN I WAS IN COMMAND WE NEVER STOPPED FOR SNACKTIME! WE WERE SUSTAINED SOLELY BY THE BLOOD OF OUR FOES! ON TO ALBRIC TOR AND MY GREAT DESTINY!!"

"WE'LL NE'ER MAKE IT," MacBrock wailed miserably behind him. "NINE MEALS TAE GET THERE, AN' NOWT A SCRAP O' FOOD TAE BE HAD! I'M STARVIN' ALREADY!!!"

>Adler: Say, that ranting fellow over there seems to have a tail similar to yours. This can only mean one thing... He's a long lost cousin! Go and welcome him into the family with open arms!
>Burnside: The weed's influence makes you surprisingly mellow and kind hearted.
>Thomson: Note that Burnside being friendly and good natured is actually more unsettling than her usual, gleeful blood lust.
>Thomson: "Oh, give me that! Obviously you just can't handle thiiiii- wooooaaaah..."
>Estvan: Briefly look up from the bowl. It is a sad day indeed when you, celebrated trickster and party animal, are the only sober person out of hundreds.
>The info Estvan got from Thompson is very useful. Maybe something about an ambush in those hidden tunnels earlier mentioned Also, maybe the Queen has yet another agenda. And maybe she also has xanthophobia and snores a lot.

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Spoiler>MacBrock: Say, your dining companion's tail looks an awful lot like cotton candy, though right now most things do, have a quick bite just to be sure.

(MacBroc) Pull yeself together, mon! Recall the ancient learning:

ALL IS HAM

Therefore, logicially, since that vast, fluffy white tail near you exists, it must be of ham. And if it is of ham, it is therefore delicious.

(MacBroc) Suddenly see nearly everything as ham. That which is not ham, is ham-like (e.g., hot-dogs, hamburgers).
(Estvan) Disabuse MacBroc of this notion with firmness. And a handy shillelagh.
(Burnside) Become sad under the influence. Regret your Unseelie ways.
(Burnside) Cry.
(Thomson) Become very surprisingly...um...creative..under the influence.
(Thomson) Using a sturdy growing sapling, perform a pole dance.
(Army) Morale, increase!
(Estvan) Put on pair of spectacles and start smoking a thick pipe-weed tube. Stroke your chin, muttering in an obscure dialect.
(Estvan) Start analyzing Thompson's dreams.
(Surprisingly well-educated soldier) Debate Estvan as to whether the dreams are Freudian or Jungian.
(Burnside) Lie down on couch near Estvan, and speak of your parents.
(Estvan) Note to Burnside that her 50 minutes are almost up, but that progress is being made.
(HSH Prince Adler) Wonder about your Luck Quotient.
(Itinerant Ham Pedlar) Wander into the glade with a cart overflowing with tasty smoked meats.
(HSH Prince Adler) Praise the Lady!

Speedy, be called "Earl" because you're an actual earl. You've only been too stoned to realize it.
So, his hobby is flower arranging? Adler, ask him if he met agent Ikebana. Answer, be the first potentially useful thing you get out of the buck, even if Speedy himself doesn't realize it.

Bushy-tailed soldier, keep ranting loudly how a brutal and ruthless army should be run.
Adler, confront this upstart footsoldier who seems to have delusions of being a general.

Obviously fake mustache, be worn by somebody for comedic effect.

Thompson's dream, be rather hot and "saucy". Give the watchers a very pleasant show that includes bowling pins and a banana.
Watchers, note that Thompson would likely seriously hurt herself if she were to try performing it for real.

Edit: Is it just me or did Scuti Preston got a lot bigger since their last appearance?

I don't have a suggestion to make, I'm just here to say that Adler getting slapped by Estvan looks funny!

ohwait

>Estvan: Do it again, just in case it didn't take.

Macbrock: Realize that the munchies are going to add more meals onto the journey meaning your going to have to start raiding nearby peasants, but the peasants are too far away so your going to have to eat the grass, dirt, and rocks along the march. IT'S BRILLIANT!

(MacBroc) Pull yeself together, mon! Recall the ancient learning:
ALL IS HAM
Therefore, logicially, since that vast, fluffy white tail near you exists, it must be of ham. And if it is of ham, it is therefore delicious.
Bushy-tailed soldier, keep ranting loudly how a brutal and ruthless army should be run.
Macbrock: Realize that the munchies are going to add more meals onto the journey meaning your going to have to start raiding nearby peasants, but the peasants are too far away so your going to have to eat the grass, dirt, and rocks along the march. IT'S BRILLIANT!

As the fluffy-tailed soldier continued ranting about his conquests, MacBrock began to stare with strange fascination at the energetically waving tail.

"I'VE HEARD IT SAID THAT ALL IS HAM," the badger rumbled dreamily. "WI' EEGHT MEALS TWIXT US AN' VICTORY, AN' ALL PROVISIONS CONSUMED, TWILL COST US A MEAL JUST TAE GO FORAGIN'. BOOT, IF ALL TRULY BE HAM, THEN ALL CAN BE EATEN! HOWAY, LADS, FUMA'S SAVED US, FOR WHATE'ER FITS IN OUR MOUTH IS FOOD!"

>Adler: Say, that ranting fellow over there seems to have a tail similar to yours. This can only mean one thing... He's a long lost cousin! Go and welcome him into the family with open arms!
>Estvan: Briefly look up from the bowl.
(Estvan) Start analyzing Thompson's dreams.

Listening to the ranting soldier, I began to realize that he was describing the exploits of Irenaeus. Something about his tail looked familiar ... then it dawned on me.



"COUSIN!!" I exclaimed, advancing toward the footsoldier with open arms.

"Begorrah, what is it you're after, boyo?" Estvan snapped from where he was crouching over Miss Thompson and the scrying bowl. "Sure an' I don't think that elf is any kin to ye at all, at all. Somebody stop Prince Adler! Sure, I can't analyze this floozy's dreams AND tend to a bedazed youngling at the same time. You there, raccoon, are ye not supposed to be mindin' him?"

>Burnside: The weed's influence makes you surprisingly mellow and kind hearted.
>Estvan: It is a sad day indeed when you, celebrated trickster and party animal, are the only sober person out of hundreds.
(Burnside) Become sad under the influence. Regret your Unseelie ways.

"Oh Mister Silverbrush," Burnside whined. "I been a bad girl! A real bad girl! Durn my Unseelie ways .. all the trouble I done caused .. I'm a-turnin over a new leaf."

"Cushlamochree," Estvan sighed. "Tis a dark day indeed when I, Estvan Silverbrush, am the only sane an' sensible soul to be found. Burnside, lass, would ye koindly toss that weedstick away an' go sit down somewhere quiet? Where's the other Floozy? Sure an' where's the naked buck?"

"Ain't seen 'em," Burnside sniffled.

>MacBrock: have a quick bite just to be sure.

At that moment, MacBrock bit the hectoring soldier's tail. The soldier froze, mid-sentence, and much to my alarm, his tail came completely off!

"It's a Scuti!" I yelled, suddenly clear-headed. "Spit it out, man! Spit it out and get away!!"

"Careful!" a mustachioed vulpine recruit yelled as he (she?) came running up. "Careful, these things can be dangerous. But I know how to handle them. If you'll allow me .."

The fox scooped the Scuti into a large jar and screwed the lid down tightly.

>The info Estvan got from Thompson is very useful. Maybe something about an ambush in those hidden tunnels earlier mentioned
Obviously fake mustache, be worn by somebody for comedic effect.

"You look maddeningly familiar," I mused, peering at the unknown fox. "Have we met before?"

"It's extremely unlikely that you would recognize me, Your Highness," he (she?) replied vaguely.

"Whisht, Adler, me boyo," Estvan hissed while tugging at my sleeve. "Best just leave the Scuti in the hands of that capable individual. Sure an' we've got to move. There's an ambush planned, accordin' to what I could make o' the Floozy's dreams. The secret tunnels lead to a trap, an' the longer we loiter here, the closer the Marshal can draw his nets around us."

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Spoiler
Somewhere in Albric Tor:



"Ach du lieber," SALV Chesswick groaned as she stared into the scrying orb. "Zey are only eight meals avay, und it vill take us at least nine to prepare. Der Vacky-Veed is not goink to delay zem lonk enough. Die Meisterscuti has blown his cover, und to top it all off, zey haff Herr Silverbrush mit zem. Ach, liebchen, zis is bad, very bad."

"What can we do, Auntie?" SALV Silverbrush asked woefully.

>Strangely Feminine Scuti Wrangler with the Extremely Attractive Eyebrows and Facial Hair: Tell the prince not to be alarmed,but to make sure he hasn't been contaminated by advanced scuti-ism, you'll need to pat him down.
>Adler: Obviously the reason He (She?) seems so familiar is that this is yet another long lost family member. Surely someone in the family portraits had a mustache that fine. Therefore, a quick examination should be alright. However, with your mind so clouded, you fail to notice something incredibly powerful and incredibly dangerous being slipped out of your elfintory.
>Thomson: Triumphantly announce that the Stoned Buck tried to escape to warn the ambush waiting in the hidden tunnels, but you stopped him. You stopped him and tied him up!
>That is not the stoned buck, that is a tree with vaguely antler shaped branches. Dammit, she's high.

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Spoiler>Spying SALVs: Remember the tried and true military tactic of switching over to the winning side and claiming you've had a change of heart.
>SALV Chesswick: Any withdrawals regarding that "special maneuver" Adler showed you before?

>Ambush their ambush by cleverly taking the front door.

Stoned Buck: Run for your life towards the secret tunnel to warn the ambushers while taking out another weedstick (from fuma knows where) and lighting it, all the while forgetting that the secret tunnel has a strict no smoking policy due to it being airtight.
Ambushers: When the buck enters feel the waves hit you man

SALV Chesswick, decide that it might finally be time to use sympathetic blood magic, the most heinous magic technique, against Estvan. Basically, all you need is an object that was once in his possession and a close blood relative, say, a daughter. Then you can create a sympathetic link between the girl and him, where anything you do to her will also be reflected on to him.
SALV Silverbrush, have bad feelings about the plan.

Agent Ikebana, prepare to enter the next phase of your master plan.

Madness in the army camp, get even worse, if possible. MacBrock, try eating anything and everything. Burnside, start confessing all of your sins to anyone nearby. Adler, somehow "remember" how everyone around you is a long-lost relative.

Alice, forget to do one thing: Punch air holes through the jar lid.
Scuti Preston, be too far intoxicated to notice that you have trouble breathing.

>Alice: Get a strange feeling, as if someone is watching through your eyes.
>Adler: Get a strange feeling, as if someone is watching you.
>Burnside: Get strange feelings, period.