The Ballad of Adler Young, Canto 2.5

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SpoilerWith accompanying illustrations https://www.patreon.com/posts/33784835 or https://adleryoung.tumblr.com

>Rowan: Your father hires workers using standardized general contracts, that way he doesn't have to negotiate with every individual employee.
Lowfolk Tricorn: "Now miss- I mean Mr. Adler, I want you to know I graduated top of my class in General H.G Peckingbottom's school of gunnery and I have over 300... no 30, or was it.... yes 3! Confirmed kills, I want a gun and I want it now. I ain't no namby pamby pikeman, I am a sharpshooter!

"Three chairs and sinks, like I said," the little girl continued. "It's not much to ask, really. Oh, and can I braid your hair for practice in the meantime?"

"No, you may not," I snapped. "And you don't get a salon until you've served me enough to earn one."

"How long will that be? And can I get it in writing?"

"I hope I'll be issued muskets," Tricorn Hat blurted. "I'm an experienced handgunner."

"Don't you have your own weapons?" I inquired.

"Nope."

"And you expect me to give you some before you've done anything for me?"

"I sort of need them to do the job," he pointed out.

"I've seen my father negotiate contracts," Rowan chimed in. "Actually he uses a standard one for various classes of employee, so he doesn't have to bargain from scratch every time."

"Contracts?" I asked, sensing something faintly Unseelie.

"A document that lays out precisely the terms of an agreement, so each party knows what is expected of them. It's legally binding. Both parties are obligated to abide by its terms. That way they can't cheat each other out of what they've promised to do.

"I'm an elf!" I cried. "My word is my bond! I'll not enter into any written oath, and it's a dark day when I'll even swear a spoken one!"

"I'm afraid that won't satisfy this lot," Rowan said, with a shake of her head. "Now, if you'll allow me to negotiate on your behalf..."

"My equipment can't be too heavy," the little girl pointed out. "And I want a rider stipulating there must be at least three meals a day."

>Adler: Actually, hold on a minute. Since you've arrived, absolutely none of the lowfolk have been afraid of you. At best they've seen you as a novelty and at worst they've seen you as an irritant. What gives?
>Ixies: Jump in with an explanation. While you were scouting out the Duchess, you've noticed some disturbing developments in lowfolk society. . Lowfolk are well on their way into the machine age, and elven society has collapsed. Lowfolk simply aren't intimidated nor have any reverence for elves anymore. Furthermore, with industry and economics buzzing through all their minds, there is not a single lowfolk in the land that will do something for nothing.

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"What is going on?" I grumbled. "Why are these lowfolk so annoying? Why are they not standing in reverential awe of my elfly majesty?"

"That may be the Duchess's doing, Sire," Typantronn replied. "We noticed while scouring the land for traces of her, that the concept of industry hath started to catch on everywhere. The lowfolk's material wealth is increasing and they have little need for magick, whereas it seemeth that elvish society has collapsed and that thou posesseth nothing of value. Wages hath replaced joy in almost all fields of endeavor. None of them will work for free, and few will pledge themselves on trust."

"That's appalling," I said with a shudder.

"Oh, and by the way," the trees rustled. "This has been amusing, but if you're seriously trying to assemble an army, we can't allow that. We are going to have to crack down and stop permitting people through the forest."

Well, in that case there was no point in continuing this farce any longer. If I wasn't going to be allowed to amass an army, then there was no point dealing with these imbeciles .. and if the Duchess of Daisies had left Eire, then what did I need an army for anyway?

>Adler, lost in the annoying noise, enter an almost trance state and in a rare moment of badassness, order everyone to shut up in a manner that is actualy pretty commanding.
If you're gonna be a king/leader/genral/god/whatever, you can't deal with every cooky character and shenanigans all the time. It's exhausting and it really stals the plo... your plans.

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"SHUT UP!!" I bellowed at the bickering lowfolk. "Shut up, all of you! This is stupid! YOU'RE stupid! Marten femme, you do not speak for me! None of you work for me! You just came out here to gawk and you're not taking this seriously at all! I've had enough of you! Leave my forest immediately!"

"What about -"

"NO!! You get NOTHING! No gold, no guns, no salon, no fancy uniforms, and DEFINITELY no shoes!"

"Will you at least turn me back to normal?" the little girl asked.

"Nope. You didn't show me the proper reverence and respect due to a magickal creature! A member of the elfin nobility, no less! You decided it'd be funnier to waste my time and goof around; well OFF with you! I've had enough! Begone, fools!"

"Hudalaeigh!" Estvan cackled. "Sure an that's tellin 'em, bedad!"