The Ballad of Adler Young, Canto 2.5

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>Adler: Are you really going to send away the woman whom your tree guards are sworn to obey?
>Estvan: Stop everyone from leaving and spell it out for Adler. "You are operating from a severely hindered position, your survival depends on stealth and cunning NOT overt force! Start a cult, bedad! It's always worked for me. Make these three lowfolk into acolytes instead of soldiers! Hand out flyers, get offerings from worshipers, have a network of spies!"
>Adler: Finally this distraction has been cleared, and your real work can begin. You have a scrying tower and can use it to speak to people. Search the land for the select few who still believe in elves and magic, dreamers and mystics who will heed your call instead of lure of gold. You need agents not mercs!
Estvaan: Point out the fact that Adler made you swear a binding oath just a few minutes ago, tell him he is being a bit of a short sighted hypocrite saying that he will never swear one.
Rowan: Remind Adler you have complete control over the trees.
Adler: You need secret agents to fight this war, this will not be won by force but by skulduggery, these lowfolk can be used for that purpose.

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"Now then," Estvan continued, suddenly serious. "Fun's fun, an' oi admoire yer gumption, lad, but sure ye moight be actin' a bit hasty turnin' these lowfolk away so quick. Instead o' buildin' an army, ye should start a cult! Sure an it always worked fer me."

"Don't forget, I have influence with the trees," Rowan reminded me.

"That explains you," I grumped. "But how did these other two get here?"

"We followed her," they said in unison.

"Sure an ye'll need secret agents to do yer biddin' whoile yer trapped here, bedad," Estvan reminded me. "Ixies are foine fer some things, but their physical abilities are limited. If it's rehabilitatin' yerself an' eventually escapin' yer wantin' to do, well then, begorrah yer gonna need help."

"Precisely the kind of help a band of loyal mercenaries can provide!" Rowan exclaimed. "Now, about that contract.."

"I'M NOT SIGNING ANY CONTRACT!" I snapped. "IT'S UN-ELFLY!"

"Ye made me swear an oath not so long ago, ye spalpeen," Estvan muttered.

"That was different! It was between elves, and you were trying to kill me!"

"Don't ferget ye've also promised to let me use the scroyin' tower an' its library."

"Right," I stalled as an idea began to take shape in my mind. "But I still do need you lot to go away. With the Duchess gone, there's nothing for you to do at the moment .. but just to keep you on retainer .." I reached into my Elfintory and pulled out three gold bravoes. "This is real gold. It won't turn into sticks or mud or anything. There's more where that came from, and you can get some of it if you return when I summon you. Spread the word to anyone else you know who might be interested. Now get lost. I don't want to see you again til I call for you."

"Begorrah, that's not the way -" Estvan began.

"You and I have a scrying tower to inspect," I interrupted. "Through the Gate," I added via Elfmind.

"But that'll cause -"

"Precisely," I smirked. "I want to be gone for a good long while, to give those creeps some time to mature, or possibly die."

>All three: Actually, a seat in a holy order would be a pretty sweet gig.

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As Estvan and I entered the dolmen arch, I turned and focused my attention on the lowfolk, who were strolling into the tulgey undergrowth outside the circle.

"Well that was a bust," Tricorn Hat grumbled. "Oak got transmogrified and you got a sweet uniform, but I got nothing."

"You got a new little sister," Rowan chuckled. "And a gold doubloon, which is certainly far from nothing. I can't wait to get this appraised. He said there's plenty more where this came from, and elves don't lie. If we play our cards right, the silly little crybaby will be needing us again real soon."

Hmmm! It seemed my mercenaries were already plotting against me...

"Are ye comin' or not, bedad?" Estvan gekkered from under the dolmen.

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We made our way back into the scrying tower, where the old tod proceeded to rummage through the library.

"Lorem ipsum! Lorem ipsum! Lorem ipsum!!" he barked while tossing books and scrolls over his shoulder. "Cushlamochree! All o' these are written in that nonsensical gibberish!"

"Hey, quit throwing things around," I scolded. "You're making a complete mess, and you almost knocked over my alchemical apparatus."

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I bent down to pick up one of the books which had landed face-down on the floor, and turned it over to look at the pages.

"Are you sure you checked this one?" I asked. "It's not written in Lorem Ipsum. This is a .. uh .. it looks like a treatise on planetary alignments and moon energy, or something like that."