The Ballad of Adler Young, Canto 2.5

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Spoiler

Ixie, discover a piece of evidence that somebody has been in the Hall recently.

"Hold, sisters!" one of the Ixies called out as they were buzzing toward the exit of the Hall of Ancestors. "Doth mine eye deceive me, or do I espy a tuft of orange fur caught on yon sarcophagus?"



"Tis fox fur, no doubt," another Ixie concurred. "But look there!"

"A pile of sugar scattered on the floor!" the third Ixie declared excitedly. "Mayhap she dropped it in her haste, on the way through."

"It seemeth suspicious, doth it not?"

"It seemeth like SUGAR to me."

for some reason you now have a craving for ham and tarragon pastries.
>Avogadro: Hover irritatingly close to Relda. Have a bucket ready in case she gets an upset tummy. The glamorous life of a squire.
>Relda: In a rare moment of remembering you have the power of Gramayre, you made your horseradishes smell and taste like strawberry.
I'm sorta hoping the plot gets a small jolt forward
>Gramarye shramarye, that's for wimpy limp-wristed princlets. Take your lumps like a real elven skunkess!

I had eaten about one-third of my alleged pie when I began craving salty ham and tarragon cakes. This was ridiculous! There was no way I was going to be able to finish this huge plate of horseradishes. Perhaps if I used Gramarye on them to make them a bit more palatable ..

NO! That was the coward's way out! And additionally it might be considered cheating.

But then again, why did I care? I hadn't come here to win a stupid contest at an absurd Vulpitanian picture-scroll convention; I had come here to warn Estmere about the dire peril he faced unbeknownst! Time was of the essence! I could not afford to dawdle any longer!



"Estmere," I projected at him with Elfmind. "Estmere, you are in great danger. Seek refuge immediately!"

"Are you feeling ill, milady?" Avogadro simpered behind me. "I have a bucket ready for your need."

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Spoiler

Percy, read your file. Realize that the Vulpitanians are very precise when obtaining information, but not apparently aware of what kind of information is actually important.
>Percy: After you get through all the recipes for lowfolk squab, you find a disturbingly detailed account of nearly everything you've ever done

"BAWK!" Percy squawked bravely as he read several pages of Squab Recipes intermingled with obscure personal details about himself.

"Likes teh color blue & wood taste grate basted w/ garlic buttre," one page stated.

"Has loose feathers under left arm. Pluck clean and roast 45 minutes per pound," said another.

After that were several pages of a document called Le Chanson du Percy le Gobelet, which described the noble bird's actions of the past few years in a semi-accurate courtly epic style. It ended abruptly with the hero sneaking into the Vulpitanian Embassy. Appended to the last page was a hand-written note: "Confirmed by The Plan. Subject will infiltrate file room, read files. Attempt to detain, baste with garlic butter."