The Ballad of Adler Young, Canto 2.5

>Adler:"You are my own creation, I command you to obey!"
gooey fingers rise out of the bubbling cauldron
(HSH Prince Adler) Demand the Stew Golem obey him, as its creator.
grab Estvan's stick
(Estvan Silverbrush) in high dudgeon
Dark Saucery, the most foul (tasting) of Unseelie arts.

"No," I insisted, as a gooey hand began to emerge from the bubbling broth. "NO, you foul product of Dark Saucery! I am the Stew Master and I will not permit you to ruin my army's lunch! NEVER, foul creature! Back to the depths from which you came! Mr. Silverbrush, keep this monster down while I add the final ingredients."

Estvan stepped forward, grimly brandishing his shillelagh.

"You back there!" I called, gesturing without taking my eyes from the emerging horror in the cauldron. "Bring those mushrooms! We will need .." I took a whiff of the aroma of the stew. "A grey one with purple splotches and a wrinkly stem. I hope you have some."

"I have three, sir," the pig replied nervously, placing the fungus in my hand.

I quickly broke the mushrooms up into fragments and tossed them into the cauldron.

"Begorrah, tis workin' lad!" Estvan exclaimed. "Now stir! Stir with all yer might!"

"NEEDS SALT," I grunted as I worked my stew-paddle around in the thickening broth.

Another soldier stepped up with a rammikin of salt. I nodded, and he tossed it into the stew.

After a few more savage stirs, the ghastly hand began to melt back into the broth, and the liquid became quiescent. Cautiously I took a spoonful and blew on it for a few seconds. I tasted it. It was good.

"It's ready," I announced. "Form a line. Any who do not have a bowl and a spoon will be issued one from the mess wagon."

Within minutes, everyone was eating. The order and efficiency with which the army got their meal was almost enough to bring a tear of admiration to my eye, despite my never having had any military experience nor training. If they could co-ordinate a luncheon this smoothly, I had high hopes about their performance on the field of battle.

the army digs in with a ravenous hunger
>Spying Agents: Silently gawk
>Someone notice the skunk tail ont the bunny maiden

"Didn't Prince Adler order you to take that maiden back to the woods and release her?" someone asked the hound who had brought the bunny maiden.

"He didn't say to do it right away," the hound replied between mouthfuls of stew. "It can wait til I'm done eating."

"Didn't she have a big fluffy white tail earlier?" the other elf inquired. "It was actually a lot like the Prince's tail, as I recall."

"That's silly," the hound muttered dismissively. "Who ever heard of a lowfolk rabbit with a glorious, luxurious white skunk tail?"

"Am I to be sacrificed, or art thou just going to stand about and ogle me all day?" the maiden demanded. "Where is my Frost-Biter?"

>Enough dillydallying with soup making, get into a conflict with an organized enemy already!
Start shambling off in the direction of the Capital!

"ALL RIGHT TROOPS," I yelled after the spoons and bowls had been returned to the wagon, and the cauldron had been scrubbed clean and properly stowed. "Let's get moving now! ON TO THE CAPITAL!"

The army let out a rousing cheer, and we began to march.

After a while, we stopped. A runner came from the front of the column. "We're almost at the gate, sir," he gasped. "But it's heavily guarded."

"Guarded? By whom?"

"You'd best come see for yourself, sir," he panted.

I followed him up past several rows of soldiers, around a bend in the road, and there I beheld -



- the old Faerie Gate to Albric Tor, surrounded by a menacing squadron of Shrub Knights!