The Ballad of Adler Young, Canto 2.5

Show Content

SpoilerPictures https://www.patreon.com/posts/52861273 or https://adleryoung.tumblr.com

You need to present yourself in a way everyone can relate to and have your followers spread out far and wide so they cannot be easily targeted. You can't kill an idea. The easiest way to convey an idea is with a story. All the great prophets and messengers of the past were story tellers.
>Adler: Before Lysander leaves, give him a short tale about one of your adventures. Not your whole life story, just one adventure that will make Lord Ramble seem likable to the average person. Tell him to spread that tale during his trip. It's not much, but this may plant the seed for more to come.

While Lysander got ready to go, and Rebecca finished her bowl of stew, I took a moment to reflect: With my hair cult completely disbanded, it seemed I was back to square one again. I had thought I was making good progress with them, but they crumpled at the first sign of adversity. Obviously my first mistake was indulging their obsession with hairstyles, which was silly from the start. While everyone has hair, it couldn't really be the basis for a tight-knit organization. I needed something more compelling, something that would inspire awe and admiration, something more along the lines of the legendary exploits of loveable elvish rogues of the Long Ago. Also, all of my followers were concentrated in a single area, which meant that a local calamity could wipe them out too easily. I needed to spread my message farther afield. Luckily, I had an accomplice who was about to embark on a long journey!

0623story.gif

"Before you go," I said to Lysander. "There are a couple of fascinating stories about the exploits of, uh, the White Elf Known As Lord Randall which I would like you to tell to people you meet on your pilgrimage."

"If you want me to advertise for you, that's going to cost extra," Lysander replied skeptically.

"You can tell these tales at taverns along the way, and your listeners will buy you drinks," I shot back. "People love hearing stories of bold exploits by likeable rogues. Let's see ... there's the time I evaded an Imperial agent by thinking of mushrooms, and there's the time I ran through the middle of a huge pie fight without getting hit. Those are pretty memorable and I think they'll do for a start."

"Are these stories even true?" Lysander scoffed.

"Elves do not lie," I reminded him, and briefly related the details of the two incidents.

>Adler: Now that Rebecca has finished eating, ask her for more information. Ask her about the Rabbit's way of life, their beliefs, rituals, and how they could cut you off from the rest of the world.

After Lysander left, I turned my attention to Rebecca.

0623bunsplain.gif

"Tell me about the people of Bunkirk," I demanded, focusing my Elfmind on her in case she left anything out. "How do they live? What do they believe?"

"They live mostly by farming, the same as everybody else," Rebecca shrugged. "They believe in the Blessed Baby Bunny, who is the son of the Sky Ram, begotten on the perpetual Virgin Fluffytail."

"Begotten on a virgin?" I blurted. "That's absurd! Do your people not believe in venery?"

"Oh, they do," Rebecca admitted. "They just don't believe their god would ever do it."

"I wouldn't want to be one of their gods," I muttered, wondering if Estvan had run across anything like this during his many adventures among the lowfolk. I resumed my line of questioning with "How could they have cut me off from scrying - that is, using magick to see beyond the border of these woods?"

"Oh, did they really manage to contain you here?" Rebecca asked, with evident surprise.

"Only temporarily," I protested, "until I can find a workaround. It would help immensely if I knew what they did."

"Ash got them riled up and told them what they had to do. They cleared the fields all around, as close as they could get and still be out of reach of the evil vines and branches ... and then ... they prayed."

"PRAYED?" I repeated. "Is that all?"

"Yeah, that's it."

"No spells? No bindings and incantations?" I couldn't believe it.

"No way. That stuff is all witchcraft, which they're firmly against. Will you teach me how to do it?"

"Eventually," I murmured vaguely as my head spun with the implications. PRAYER?? Really? Did this mean that their strange religion was actually valid? That their god existed and had real power? What could I do against that?

0623heresvern.gif

"Hey 'Ramble,' here's another'un," Burnside interrupted as Vernier stumbled out of the bushes. "You sure do get a lot o' visitors for somebody who's supposed to be exiled here."

"My Lord," Vernier stammered nervously. "I came as quickly as I could, after your bug-pixie-whatever servants summoned me. What happened wasn't my fault! There was nothing that could have prevented it! Lysander never delivered the guns! You're not angry with me, are you?"