The Ballad of Adler Young, Canto 2.5

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These lowfolk are going to be the only company you'll have for a very long time. You'd best learn to like them.
Don't cry at the mention of your brother and how everyone you ever loved or cared about is dead
> Might be time to get off your high ant your majesty. You better lear to compose with lowfolks fast because they are the only ones who will ever give you the time of day, and that's the truth of it.

It really bothered me the way these lowfolk were making assumptions about their right to boss me around .. but on the other hand, they were pretty much my only chance of survival until I figured out a better way to get food and supplies.

But Fuma blast me if I was going to play fair with them!

>Time to reveal yourself, make a show of it. Give em' the old razzle-dazzle.
make sure they undertand who'se gonna be the boss there.
>Adler: Face the music. Let them believe that saying your name out loud summoned you. It'll be a fun gag

If they wanted to do the old "guess my name" routine, then I suppose I could play along. Elves of the Long Ago must have invented that shtick for a reason .. but I was going to work it my own way. Under no circumstances was I letting these filthy lowfolk bandy my actual royal name about. No, I would have to be tricky and deceptive. How would Estvan handle this?

I thought for a few seconds and devised a plan.

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"Ye blitherin' idiots!!" I yelled, in what I hoped was a convincing Sidhe accent. "Dolts! Dullards! Addle-witted spalpeens! Sure an' how can it be that ye've never heard o' Lord Randall?"

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I pooked down behind the lowfolk, and they seemed suitably impressed. I tried not to be intimidated by their formidable height, and kept talking loudly.

"Sure an' hand me that book, sirrah, that Chanson that ye speak so hoighly of. Tis simply implausible that a book about elves should fail to mention me."

The male lowfolk handed me his copy, and I flipped irritably through it, scanning the pages and muttering random words like "preposterous" and "hogwash" and "poppycock."

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"Hey ... is your name Randall?" the female asked after a few minutes.

"What?" I snapped back. "What?? Irrelevant! Forget oi mentioned it."

"It is Randall, isn't it? You're Lord Randall! You're Lord Randall!!" she cackled while hopping inelegantly from one foot to the other and pointing at me.

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"Faith an' begorrah," I groaned in mock defeat. I deftly slipped the book into my elfintory, and spread my hands in despair. "What an embarrasin' slip-up. All roight, colleen, sure an ye guessed fair an' square. What is it ye moight be wishin for, then?"