The Ballad of Adler Young, Canto 2.5

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Point out to Randal that putting black powder in alcohol will just make it ignite, wasting the powder and likely sending whoever performed the act to several places at once.
>PJ: Get into an argument with Ethel over whether or not that's actually true.
>Adler: Harrumph derisively. Steaming it with lowfolk ingredients won't do it any good. Perhaps if the steam were made from more magical, elfy components, you might get something worthwhile. You'll need to see about setting up an alchemy lab
Adler, attempt to steam the powder, then magically dry and repowder it.
P.J., slip an embarrasing reason why the family fortune is declining faster than expected. Also, mention your two brothers

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"Mixing gunpowder with liquor will make it explode," P.J. warned.

"That's not true at all," Ethel scoffed. "You have to light it with a match, and it will burn only if the liquor is sufficiently strong."

"But my brother Fercy says -"

"Your brother Fercy is an idiot. Your family fortunes are in a decline because he couldn't resist playing the ponies, isn't that right?"

"He had honorable intentions," P.J. pouted.

"I doubt it," Ethel scoffed. "There's no way he could have married all of them. But to return to the point, mixing gunpowder and booze will likely just ruin both."

"SHUT UP, both of you!" I snapped. "Minister of Disinformation, do not debate matters of fact with the War Marshal! War Marshal, do not question the judgment of your Lord! You're not taking Elf Magick into account! I will steam that powder and dry it, and the compressed result will be lighter and more potent that the original! You'll see! I will have to set up an alchemy lab, but first I need to confer with my agents regarding the new plans - so keep quiet while we discuss."

>Adler: Anyway, bring Typantronn (who is still wearing the helmet) up to speed on your new plans.
>Typantronn: A-HA! Obviously this was you subconsciously anticipating your lord's orders and as such deserves a promotion.
>Adler: Inform Typantronn that her constantly badgering you for promotions is not making you feel inclined to give her one.
>Typantronn: Yes, but if he gave you a promotion, you wouldn't have to keep asking for one.
>Adler: FINE! Make up some bogus, new meaningless title to placate her so she'll quit pestering you and get back to work.
>Adler: Get a bunch of grain spirit bottles and MAGIC them into large sizes and then have them rolled at the trees and when they break have the ixies set them on fire.
>Adler: If that fails just have the ixies drop bottles on the bushes and then setting them on fire, starting with the fanciest looking one, since they're always the leader.

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"Now then, Typantronn, we have decided in a High Strategic Council that our best tactic will be to release swarms of tree-destroying pests on the Shrub Army. We have been advised that you have a sizeable collection of such pests already in your possession."

"That's right, Sire," the Ixie beamed. "I am pleased to be so useful to thee. My pantry shall be at thy disposal. Meanwhile, surely the anticipation of orders on such a tremendous scale deserveth a promotion?"

"I might also need a squadron of Ixies to roll or perhaps hurl bottles of flammable material at the Shrubs," I continued.

"Assuredly Sire, we are at thy service. But promotion to a rank befitting my responsibility -"

"Your constant begging for a promotion is making me uninclined to give you one," I pointed out.

"Ah, but once the promotion is granted," she countered, "then I shall stop asking thee for it."

"Fine," I sighed. "You are now Grand Poobah of the Ominous Orse. Now go get your swarm of pests ready for deployment."

Typantron: Begin without permission from your superior promoting the Ixies under you to higher ranks
Adler: "Hey only I get to do that"
Ixie swarm, unbeknownst to Adler, be infiltrated by an enemy agent.

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"Hear that, sisters?" Typantronn exclaimed as she turned to face the gang of Ixies that had helped her bring the bags of powder. "I am Grand Poobah now! I promote thee, Beelzebabs, to Sprite Lieutenant. Tinkle, thou'rt now Sergeant Top Class."

"What about me, LOL?" chirped an unusually large Ixie near the back. "After all, Im teh 1 who knew wear 2 find teh powder."

"I promote thee to Special Ablities Ladybird Vindicatrix," Typantronn declared without missing a beat.

"HEY!" I snapped. "STOP THAT! I'm the only one who can hand out promotions! None of those ones you just did are official."

"But I've worked hard to make it to Sprite Lieutenant," Beelzebabs whined.

"Fine," I snorted. "These three I'll allow, but no more unauthorized promotions! I mean it! Now, you have your assignment. Dismiss!"

They all saluted and buzzed away - except for the oversized one, who scampered inelegantly along the ground with her elytra and her lower pair of arms flopping limply. The poor thing must have been the result of a birth defect .. "Special Abilities" Typantronn had designated in her rank. It made me proud to know that my elite squadron of spies and operatives were able to find a place even for the unfortunate and odd-shaped among them.

I lowered my head to discreetly wipe my eyes on my sleeve, and noticed the mustache lying on the ground at my feet. Hmm. I bet there would be a lot less insubordination among my troops, and a lot more obedience, if I had this magnificent ornament adorning my lip! I quickly snatched it up and stowed it in my Elfintory for later.

Adler: Pick up the moustache and place it in your elfintory, this could come in handy.
get your marshal properly equipped. You can make clothes into armour.
Ethel > Object to the medieval-style armour

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"Now then," I said, turning to Ethel. "As General-In-Chief and War Marshal, you must be properly equipped. You must be resplendent in gleaming armor to protect your person, as well as strike fear into the enemy and inspire courage among your allies. I should be able to Gramarye your clothes into something suitable. Would you prefer to take them off, or have me alter them directly on your body?"

"Uh," Ethel stalled. "Armor really isn't as relevant as it used to be, not in this modern age of ballistics and firepower and walking forests."