The Ballad of Adler Young, Canto 2.5

>Adler, you could say you've lost control of this situation, but then, you never were in control, were you? How long have you been dragged around on strings in accordance to the whims of others?Too long. This army is made of stupid peasants who don't know what's going on. Stupid peasants that are loyal to you and "your cause". This is the first real bargaining chip you've had in a while. Time to do what everyone else has been doing: hatch a plot. Be secretive, pretend to be compliant. Assess who your real allies are, who is loyal only to you. When all is said and done, you'll be sitting on top, and no one, not the duchess, the queen, the vulpitinians, the scutis, the sisterhood, nor anyone else will have a say in your grand machinations. Your true destiny begins now.

>Adler: Unleash your own maniacal cackle that puts the duchess' to shame. Everyone stare. So much for plotting in secret...

>On one hand giving yourself up now would stop this from escalating, and Estemere would probably forgive you. On the other your continued existence would stil be a threat to throne so even if your brother didn't wish harm on you, Queen Edessa would take it on herself to remove you from the picture permanently.
>Running away and hiding until this blows over could be an option, but it wouldn't be very dignified and in any case Sisterhood would keep seeking you out which would be a big hassle.
>Maybe just go with it for now, for a laugh?

Burnside, show off your trick. Trick, DO NOT involve pineapples and yo-yos. Involve carrots and a laundry basket instead.

Adler's Army (AA), feast as if it's the last thing you were going to do. Get drunk.
Bard, start singing poems about Adler's supposed heroics. As well as atrocities, apparently without noticing any difference between the two.

Fifi, come out to complain about the noise. Army's response: "Floozie!"

An ancient looking knight, riding on a shaggy old ant, arrive. Identify yourself as Sir Oliver, an old companion to Adler's great-uncle Roland.
Offer to teach the army some fighting skills. Unfortunately, suffer from the same character flaw as your namesake in the "Alan Ford" comic, namely kleptomania.
Small objects, start going missing in his vicinity. Army, be too drunk to notice.

Box, do not contain the object the Duchess thinks it does.
Duchess's son-nephews, be in a lot of trouble.

Salmonella and her child, come to the edge of the swamp to witness this historic event. Child, be told a lot about Adler by your father. Be very excited to see such a grand individual.
Then actually get to see him. Disappointment, result.

>the ham supplied is murder meat. not that its maded from murdered lowfolk, its been spiced up, to fuel the blood thirsty rage of any elf that eats it. combat narcotics!
>the usquebaugh is just usquebaugh to wash the ham down... maybe a splash of Persoc-Itoome in it too.

>Son-nephews go back and get the real box that contains Irenaeus old gear set, the harness of Irenaeus, the barbaric pants of Irenaeus, the sword of Irenaeus, and...

>A wicked looking Bow of Irenaeus, the limbs are made from the horns of a buck, the limbs are black and shiny. you think the horns might of belonged to a conquered elfhame king. The string is made of a gold, but on closer inspection its actually thread. made from head hair of a elf maiden!

>Pulling back the string you feel you could kill something half way around the world.

Adler > Somehow end up wearing the gear of Irenaeus. However due to your physique, it doesn't look quite right.
Adler > Then totally He-man it as soon as you hold the sword (no... totally dont do this)

>Adler, How long have you been dragged around on strings in accordance to the whims of others?Too long. Time to do what everyone else has been doing: hatch a plot. Be secretive, pretend to be compliant. Assess who your real allies are, who is loyal only to you. When all is said and done, you'll be sitting on top, and no one, not the duchess, the queen, the vulpitinians, the scutis, the sisterhood, nor anyone else will have a say in your grand machinations. Your true destiny begins now.
>On one hand giving yourself up now would stop this from escalating, and Estemere would probably forgive you. On the other your continued existence would stil be a threat to throne so even if your brother didn't wish harm on you, Queen Edessa would take it on herself to remove you from the picture permanently.
> Running away and hiding until this blows over could be an option, but it wouldn't be very dignified and in any case Sisterhood would keep seeking you out which would be a big hassle.
Burnside Trick. Involve carrots and a laundry basket

As I tried to pry Burnside off of me, I began to think seriously about my situation.

"Hey, c'mon," she protested. "Give me some carrots and a laundry basket and I'll show you something real interesting."

I ignored her. I thought about all the parties vying for power in this situation: Vulpitania, the Antglade, the Sisterhood, F.E.L.F., the Imperial Army .. Surely this was not the great destiny ordained by my noble lineage, nor even the one the Sisterhood had groomed me for, to be a mere unwitting tool for greater powers behind the scenes. I was a scion of Irenaeus! I was fated to rule! And now, at last, I had an army at my command! An inexperienced and undisciplined army, but still a fighting force nonetheless. I could count on their loyalty - at least for now - and deeds of valor combined with victory would surely seal their undying devotion.

What were my strategic options? Surrender did not seem to be a viable choice now that events were irretrievably set in motion. Estmere would be safe if I surrendered, but for how long now that open rebellion had broken out? And with Faerie itself deteriorating around him? As for me, my brother might forgive my involvement in all of this if I explained it to him, but Queen Edessa was out for my blood .. as would be the majority of my current allies if I betrayed the revolution. No, there was no choice but to see this through to its conclusion. Hopefully that would entail Estmere's exile to a safe location .. but it definitely would have to end with me on the throne.

Whose support could I count on, and who were my enemies? It was easy to see that all of my allies were merely provisional, and their position would change when the situation changed. Did Vulpitania support my rebellion or were they invested in the sham of an Empire that their agents had created? It would bear further investigation to find out.

The Duchess of Daisies would back me only as long as I advanced her goals (or at least appeared to do so.) At the least she wanted the Antglade embargo lifted; at the most she wanted to be Empress. It would probably be unwise to grant either of those boons, but her assistance in the conflict would be invaluable. I would have to string her along.

The Sisterhood wanted me to take the crown, marry the missing changeling Zandar Skonk, re-found the Irenaeid Dynasty, and correct the Mistake (the nature of which still had not been adequately explained.) While I did not necessarily disagree with any of these goals, I resented the way they had manipulated me into this position - and of course they would want to remain in power, insidiously pulling the strings of the Empire from the shadows. Additionally, I recalled their assurances that bloodshed would not be necessary, which was clearly turning out to be false. I would have to take what help they could give me, and then turn on them once my own position was secure.

What about F.E.L.F.? From what little I knew about them, they desired an end to the Empire and a return to the primitive chaos of the Long Ago. They would probably support my rebellion during its initial destructive phase, and then turn against me once I became the new Emperor. Ah well, the conflict would bring them out of hiding and into the light. Once I gained control of the Royal & Imperial Army then I could flush out the ragged remnants of F.E.L.F. and destroy them.

>Adler: Unleash your own maniacal cackle that puts the duchess' to shame. Everyone stare.

Lost in thought, I let out an unintentionally sinister chuckle.

"Whoah," Duchess Catherine exclaimed. "You feelin' all right, Adler honey?"

"What an elf!" Burnside tittered excitedly. "I knew you had an Unseelie side to you! Wait here and I'll be right back. Where the carrots at?"

"Well anyway," the Duchess continued. "My boys done got the chest unlocked, and it seems you're in the right mood to look at this." She lifted the lid of the chest and rummaged around in it for a few seconds.

Box, do not contain the object the Duchess thinks it does.
Duchess's son-nephews, be in a lot of trouble.
>Son-nephews .. the box contains Irenaeus old gear set, the harness of Irenaeus, the barbaric pants of Irenaeus

"WHAT IN THE NETHERHELLS IS THIS?" Duchess Catherine growled at her son-nephews as she held up a grimy, darkly stained scrap of linen.

"Um, that there, Aunt-Mama, is one of Baby Irenaeus' dirty nappies," Matholwch stammered. "It's a right powerful relic rescued from the Birthplace Shrine. Family heirloom too, I reckon."

"How in the name of Fuma's Musk are we supposed to win a war with a box o' filthy ol' diapers and baby clothes?" the Duchess snarled. "You dad-gum idiots! You was supposed to fetch the War Chest!"

"Ain't this it?" Matholwch whined while Bodb drooled apologetically.

"No, it ain't!" the Duchess barked. "Now git back and fetch the right one! It's behind the casks at the P.I. plant, with a yaller skull painted on the side of it. And so help me, if you knuckleheads screw up again ..." She left the threat unfinished as the Boy Dukes scurried away and tumbled into the john-boat.

Adler's Army (AA), feast as if it's the last thing you were going to do. Get drunk.
Bard, start singing poems about Adler's supposed heroics. As well as atrocities, apparently without noticing any difference between the two.
Fifi, come out to complain about the noise. Army's response: "Floozie!"
>the usquebaugh is just usquebaugh to wash the ham down... maybe a splash of Persoc-Itoome in it too.

There was a slight scuffle, as my army insisted on unloading the rest of the ham and usquebaugh before permitting the two skunks to row away. Their morale seemed to improve as the jugs were passed around, and I heard fragments of a rousing song which seemed to express the hopes that my upcoming military career would include such bold deeds as burning down maidens and ravishing entire villages.

"Like, what's all the ruckus?" SALV Fofox asked as she stepped out onto the porch.

"Vulpitanian methods of subduing prisoners are unorthodox," Ms. Thomson informed me, as she emerged from the building right behind Fifi. "But I can't say I entirely disapprove. The lowfolk maiden is sleeping soundly and should not give the Duchess's collection team any trouble."



Any further remarks were cut off by a resounding cry of "FLOOZIES!!" from the army.

"Oh, like hi fellas," Fifi giggled as she waved at the assembled troops.

"Careful," Thomson advised. "This situation is hard to read. They are drunk and glutted on ham, but it looks like they are also somehow infused with Persockity Vitality."

Before Ms. Thomson could elaborate on her observations, everyone's attention was diverted by a loud explosion from the other side of the building. We all ran around to the front of the Station, where we saw a large cloud of smoke and dust rising in the woods about two bowshots from us. Several trees had fallen and were lying across the clearing that constituted the Station's lawn.



Alice Chetsweeks staggered forth out of the cloud, cradling a white Scuti in her arms.

"Ambushed by Ixies," she declared angrily as she trudged across the lawn towards the building. "If I find out who ordered the attack, the consequences for that person will be DIRE; that I can promise you. They've killed Mara, and my friend-mate, and the rat, and they very nearly exterminated Scuti Pr-.. Preston. He is called Preston. Your Grace the Duchess! Do you have any more of those automata, a functioning one which Scuti Preston may use?"

>With this news the previous good vibes everyone had are now gone. Everything devolves into chaos. The soldiers decide to find the perpetrator themselves, which involves aimlessly accusing each other of being spies.
>Someone/everyone accuse Adler.

Adler, think. Just how much are Scutis subjected to Thorwald's edict? Could Alice be lying about the ixie ambush?
Or, could the ambush have been real, but Alice mistaken about the deaths?
Could it really be a kidnapping instead?

Also notice the verbal slip. Could Scuti Preston really be Scuti Prime, the severed tail of Irenaeus himself?
After taking a good look at Scuti Preston, dismiss the idea, since, unless Irenaeus lost his tail as a child, he would have to be far shorter than his official depictions state in order for him to have a tail of that size. In fact, if Scuti Preston is Irenaeus's tail, and that his tail had not been disproportionately small, he could not possibly have been much taller than Burnside!

Duchess, do have an extra automaton. But be a very maintenance intensive model, with many of it's functions not functional due to overuse and a complete lack of any recent maintenance. In fact, be barely functional in it's current state. Do not be subject to the ban, since it's made to resemble some sort of a gryphon.

Duchess's son-nephews, return with the war-chest. Gear inside, appear to be child sized, too small for Adler to wear comfortably.
Edit: Gear, appear to be made specifically to make the wearer look taller, particularly with it's extra high helmet and ridiculously thick boot soles.
Duchess, tell Adler a shocking fact about his magnificent ancestor that never made it into official records (because he had a tendency to brutally "remove" anybody who would dare to bring it up).

Show Content

Spoiler Just how are the names "Matholwch" and "Bodb" pronounced, exactly?

Just how are the names "Matholwch" and "Bodb" pronounced, exactly?

Bodb is pronounced "BOVE" like the first syllable of BOVINE.

Matholwch is pronounced "MATH-O-LUKE" but with a phlegmy final K, like the CH in LOCH.

>Offer the scutis protection, and Burnside's backside.

Aw naw Mara's gone?

>Scuti Pr-Preston: When revived, launch into a sprightly rendition of "Trouble In Persoc City".

Adler > Turn into a ixie and Start interrogating your daughters. No more secrets. Punish your daughters if you have to.

Alice > Bury your dead

Duchess > Bring out a very old automata, Crude but functional

Duchess, do have an extra automaton. But be a very maintenance intensive model, with many of it's functions not functional due to overuse and a complete lack of any recent maintenance. In fact, be barely functional in it's current state. Do not be subject to the ban, since it's made to resemble some sort of a gryphon.
Duchess > Bring out a very old automata, Crude but functional

"Sure thang, sugar," the Duchess said, snapping her fingers. An Ixie flew up, and Catherine turned to instruct it: "Fly double quick and tell Bodb an' Matholwch to fetch Griff from the P.I. plant."

"Why do you use those treacherous little monsters as messengers?" Alice gekkered as the Ixie flew away.

"Well shucks, missy, they's family," the Duchess said, blinking. "Oh wait, you mean them Ixies? Well, they's quick and reliable, so long as you pay 'em good and don't rely on 'em for anythang super important."

"They are evil," the vixen growled. "Not merely Unseelie, but actually evil."

The soldiers decide to find the perpetrator themselves, which involves aimlessly accusing each other of being spies.

Meanwhile my so-called "army" was growing restless.

"Who sicced the Ixies on the Scutis?" one of them asked another. "Was it you?"

"Fuma's Rump, no! I didn't even know Scutis were real until just now!"

"I've never seen an Ixie before today!"

"What's next? Dragons?" another one piped up.

"Just admit that you ordered the Ixies to attack!"

"Since when have I been able to command Ixies?"

"I don't know! But you're probably in cahoots with them!"

"Obviously the Duchess of Daisies has them at her beck and call."

"Wait a minute!! That's THE Duchess of Daisies? I can't serve a militia with the Fuma-damned Duchess of Daisies at the head of it!"

"No way! It can't be her. The Duchess is a hideous monster. That mephitess is way too hot to ever flay our flesh from our bones and make gumbo out of it and feed it to our next of kin."

"Well who else would be Unseelie enough to command Ixies to blow up a wagon full of Scuti?"

"Scuti are monsters too, you moron. I don't think it's Unseelie to blow them up."

"How do we know you're not being controlled by a Scuti right now? They could be ANY of us!"

>Someone/everyone accuse Adler
Also notice the verbal slip. Could Scuti Preston really be Scuti Prime, the severed tail of Irenaeus himself?
if Scuti Preston is Irenaeus's tail, and that his tail had not been disproportionately small, he could not possibly have been much taller than Burnside!
>Offer the scutis protection, and Burnside's backside.

I tuned out the Volunteer Army's moronic squabbling and stared thoughtfully at the white Scuti in Alice's arms. Her slight verbal slip had not eluded my attention. Could this creature in fact be Scuti Prime, the severed tail of Mighty Irenaeus himself? If so, he was significantly smaller than I had expected.

"Are you going to stare or are you going to do something?" Alice asked sullenly. "Come to think of it, I recall that you seemed to have a strange rapport with Ixies in the past..."

"I did not order them to attack you," I stated emphatically. "And I cannot at the moment think of a reason why anybody here would. Elves do not lie."

"Well unless they decided to do it on their own .. which is unlikely .. somebody ordered them to do it."

"I am just as surprised as you are," I reiterated. "Consider yourself under my protection. Whoever did this will have a lot to answer for. In the meatime, could I offer Scuti Preston the use of the Antglade attache? She's just about the right size for him, and frankly I'd be glad of the attitude adjustment."

"Scuti Preston has already had to ride too long on an unworthy rump," Alice sniffed. "Thank you for your dubious offer, but we will wait for the Duchess's automaton."

Adler, think. Just how much are Scutis subjected to Thorwald's edict? Could Alice be lying about the ixie ambush?
Or, could the ambush have been real, but Alice mistaken about the deaths?
Could it really be a kidnapping instead?

"I'm not sure about any of this," I thought at Ms. Thomson with Elfmind. "It's unlike the Ominous Orse Ixies to resort to violence - such extreme violence, anyway."

"They are not bound by Thorwald's Edict, and cannot be trusted," Thomson replied. "Nor can Scutis, for that matter. It might be prudent to examine the scene of the catastrophe, just to confirm the vixen's story."

"I'm going to go look at the explosion site," I explained loudly for anyone who might care. "To see if I can see some clues."



We picked our way through a tangle of charred and broken trees to the small clearing where the wagon had once stood. There was one wheel and part of an axle on the ground, lots of broken crockery, a mangled camp stove, and some chairs. The battered carcasses of two ants lay among the splintered remains of the front axle and the hitch. The rat convict was strewn around in chunks just large enough to identify, and Mara Supial's body was lying in a horrible tangle several feet away, with a singed and lacerated white Scuti dangling from a nearby bush.

"Fuma's Mercy!" I choked, trying not to vomit.

"It seems the creature was telling the truth about the fatalities," Thomson observed. "You had best get used to the sight of death, Highness. There will undoubtedly be much more before all of this is over."

"You didn't order this, did you?" I asked her. "Does the Sisterhood want the Scutis eliminated?"

"Now why would we want that?" Thomson asked coolly.

"I don't see any Ixie bodies," I muttered, glancing over the scene again.

"They are so small, if they were caught in the blast they were probably pulverized beyond recognition. Come now; there's nothing more we can do here, and you have an army to take command of."

Salmonella and her child, come to the edge of the swamp to witness this historic event. Child, be told a lot about Adler by your father. Be very excited to see such a grand individual.
Then actually get to see him. Disappointment, result.
Duchess's son-nephews, return with the war-chest. Gear inside, appear to be child sized, too small for Adler to wear comfortably.
Duchess, tell Adler a shocking fact about his magnificent ancestor

When we returned to the Station, Duchess Catherine was digging inside another chest. Several pieces of ancient-looking armor lay on the ground next to her.

"Is that -" I started to ask.

"Some of Irenaeus's battle gear, yep," the Duchess answered without looking up. "But that ain't what I was lookin' for, and don't you mess with it neither. It ain't fittin' for you to wear."

"I am an heir of Irenaeus," I insisted, picking up the helmet and placing it on my head.



"Take that off, boy. You look ridiculous," the Duchess snorted impatiently. "I done told you it weren't fittin' and elves don't lie, so what in the Netherhells are you thinkin?"

"Why is it so small?" I asked, crestfallen. "Is this the Juvenile Training Armor of Irenaeus?"

"No, silly. Elves in the Long Ago just weren't as big," Catherine explained. "I reckon, prob'ly like Burnside, they didn't eat right growin' up. Now where in tarnation is that thang? I coulda sworn it was right on top, last time I seen it."

"I ain't as impressed as I oughta be," a small voice quipped behind me.

>Make a mental note that Thomson did not say "No". She rebuffed you with a vague question. Your legal representative may have an agenda different than your own. Be wary, but don't let her catch on.

>Burnside: Attempt to teach the soldiers all of your custom evisceration techniques.
>Soldiers: Actually find the lesson pleasantly informative.
>Adler: Be horrified at the idea of an entire army of Burnsides.

>Adler: Venomously berate the child behind you for sassing you.

>Irenaeus's accoutrements: While otherwise far too small oddly enough the codpiece fits Adler just fine.
>Adler: Feel inexplicably one-upped.

Thomson indeed did not deny ordering the attack. Maybe the Sisterhood is cleaning up loose ends? They needed scutis for the de-elfination plan, and someone ordered Evan Klive to be killed way back too. Rodnyev and co. probably should make themselves scarce if they know what's good for them.

>...Why not simply use Grammayre to make the helmet and parts of the regalia bigger and fitting ?

(Or for that matter why not using grammayre more at all. It's a power with potentialy unlimited used you never seem to use much.
We know it works on living being, you used it on a pumkin as a child. And while it's suposed to eb harder to force something to do something they shouldn't be able to do, yu made said cucurbitacea move, smile and blue, things pumkins aren't known to be in general. So by comparaison simply altering some comportement or propreties should be childplay
Maybe you could use it to make an Ixie or a scutti to be truthfull ?
Maybe You could use it to make peoples (like say that 'army' calm down.
...Maybe you could make queen Edessa unfertile or Estmere an elf again ?
One wonder really, what limits this power trully has. ... if one s willing to use and prfect it of course. )

> Elves of long ago where small? What could of caused the change of size? Cant be just be just nutritional intake, the Duchess isn't small and she from back then.
Adler > Think maybe the cross breeding with lowfolk might be the reason elves are taller in statue now.

>Irenaeus's accoutrements: While otherwise far too small oddly enough the codpiece fits Adler just fine.

Adler > then you realize it would have been pretty big for Irenaeus size

Duchess, give Adler the legendary "Fuma's left booby": Irenaeus's enchanted buckler shield. Named for it's distinct paint job, this legendary artifact is said to be able to block any weapon used against it's wielder, as well as any hostile spell.

Child, introduce yourself to Adler. Then start picking on him. Salmonella, show up, but do nothing to stop the little bully.
Child, manage to abscond with Irenaeus's helmet, which fits you pretty well.

(Well-fed mammal) Start, for no particular reason, to play a tune on an overturned half-barrel.
(Baglute players) Accompany the wombat in your own fashion.

>Adler: Venomously berate the child behind you for sassing you.
Child, introduce yourself to Adler. Then start picking on him. Salmonella, show up, but do nothing to stop the little bully.

"Where are your parents?" I asked the impudent possum child. "Didn't they teach you to respect your elders and betters?"

"You sound just like ol' Silverbrush," the child scoffed. "Only less intelligent. My momma's right there, and my pappy's hidin' out somewheres on a secret mission."

"Howdy, Prince Adler," Salmonella Moonbeam sighed as she leaned against the porch rail. "Don't pay no mind to lil' Lem Junior here. Can't nobody straighten out that young'un. Lemmy done tole us all about you, so I figured I'd bring the boy around to take a look while you was right here upside the Antglade."

"My sister was scared to come," Lem Junior sniffed. "But I ain't scared of nothin, specially not some durn fool with a too-small helmet perched on top of his noggin."

"I am a genuine descendant of Irenaeus, child," I growled. "Soon I will be Emperor, so you'd best mind your tongue."

"Elves don't lie," the youngster admitted. "But my pappy may have had some misconceptions concernin' you."

>Irenaeus's accoutrements: While otherwise far too small oddly enough
>...Why not simply use Grammayre to make the helmet and parts of the regalia bigger and fitting ?

This little pipsqueak was starting to get on my nerves! I'd show him a thing or two!

I carefully composed some Gramarye in my mind, and concentrated on making the helmet bigger so it would fit my head.

For some reason, it seemed to actually get smaller, so I redoubled my efforts.



"Think an awful lot of yourself, don't you, Your Headness?" Lem cackled gleefully, pointing at my head.

"Dang it, Adler," the Duchess grumbled over her shoulder. "I done told you to take that thang off and quit messin' with it. Was you tryin' to change its size to make it fit you? Tsk. You oughta know that Irenaeus' armor would be warded against all kinds of magick. Think about it. Would he have wanted some battle wizard a-shrinkin' his armor with him in it? Course not! Any spell you cast on it is gonna be reflected right back at you. Now why don't you give that helmet to the young'un and fix your head, cause I found the thang I was lookin' for."

"Give this priceless Irenaeid artifact to an uncouth elflet?" I asked, outraged.

"Shoot, suits of Irenaeus armor ain't rare," the Duchess replied. "Did you think he only had one set? That lil' feller can't do nothin' to hurt it, so let him run along and play."

Child, manage to abscond with Irenaeus's helmet, which fits you pretty well.

Lem grabbed the helmet and plunked it onto his own head. Of course, it fit perfectly.

"Look, ma! I'm Irenaeus!" he yelled giddily as he dashed off the porch toward the Army. "Maybe one of them soldiers'll let me borry a sword."

Salmonella sighed, rolled her eyes, and descended the porch steps in slow pursuit of her son.

> Elves of long ago where small? What could of caused the change of size? Cant be just be just nutritional intake, the Duchess isn't small and she from back then.
Duchess, give Adler the legendary "Fuma's left booby": Irenaeus's enchanted buckler shield. Named for it's distinct paint job, this legendary artifact is said to be able to block any weapon used against it's wielder, as well as any hostile spell.

Duchess Catherine waited for the O'Possums to leave, and for my head to return to normal size, before withdrawing her arms from the chest. As I looked at her, I could not help but notice that she was normal-sized compared to modern elves - not small, as her explanation of Irenaeus' diminutive stature would have suggested. But wait .. the Duchess of Daisies didn't actually date back to the Long Ago, did she? If I recalled my dynastic history correctly, she was Athanasius' niece, which would have made her one of Irenaeus' granddaughters. I was reluctant to ask her about this, since it was generally considered impolite to inquire about a femme's age or body size.

"So, what's the thing in the crate that you wanted to show me?" I asked instead. "Is it the legendary shield 'Fuma's Booby' which protects its wearer from all physical assaults?"

"I seem to recollect that thang was burned," the Duchess replied. "Caer Adland folks didn't like seein' any visual depiction of the Great Auk, least of all one bein' carried into battle by a Mephitist warlord, and they figured it was disrespectful to call the Auk a booby, even though he was acknowledged to be a flunky of the Goddess. Nope, what I got here is way better'n that."



She cozied up next to me and presented a small sulfur-green glass phial.

"This here is the Gladsome Antglade's secret weapon," she whispered with a satisfied smirk. "My alchemists at the P.I. plant came up with it back durin' the war, but them dang Imperials whupped us before we ever had a chance to use it. Ol' Silverbrush's durn lithophagous beetles took us completely by surprise, and after it was over we was all trapped here in this swamp with no more use for a secret weapon."

"What is it?" I asked.

"They called it the Plague of Battles," Catherine whispered ominously. "It causes elves to go into a berserk frenzy."

"So .. I should give it to my army to raise their fighting spirit?"

"Oh heck no! You put a drop or two on an arrow and shoot it into the enemy camp. The frenzy is catchin, see, like a plague, and yer enemies'll all start fightin' each other till they ain't none left."

"That's Unseelie," I gasped, horrified.

"That's strategy," the Duchess corrected. "You ain't gotta use it if you don't want to, but at least the option will be there. Take it."

I put the phial very carefully into my Elfintory and walked away as Catherine started putting things back into the chest.

>Make a mental note that Thomson did not say "No". She rebuffed you with a vague question. Your legal representative may have an agenda different than your own. Be wary, but don't let her catch on.
Thomson indeed did not deny ordering the attack. Maybe the Sisterhood is cleaning up loose ends? They needed scutis for the de-elfination plan, and someone ordered Evan Klive to be killed way back too.
>Burnside: Attempt to teach the soldiers all of your custom evisceration techniques.
(Well-fed mammal) Start, for no particular reason, to play a tune on an overturned half-barrel.
(Baglute players) Accompany the wombat in your own fashion.

Around the corner of the porch, I saw Ms. Thomson leaning on the railing and staring out over the troops as they munched ham, talked, and fought on the lawn. I paused and eyed her suspiciously. She had evaded my question earlier, when I asked if the Sisterhood had ordered the Scuti assassination. Why, indeed, would they do such a thing? One of the Scuti had helped Estmere sire a child with Edessa, but was that a reason to kill it? I could not see what that would accomplish. Killing the Scuti would not undo the pregnancy. Plus, Scuti Preston would be the likely target in that case, but it had survived the attack.

Perhaps, if Scuti Preston was truly Scuti Prime, the long-lost tail of Irenaeus .. the Sisterhood might have been interested in tying up that loose end, if they thought the Scuti could be contenders for the throne. But did the Sisterhood even know that the Scuti were descendants of Irenaeus? Unless there had been a spy listening in on our conversation in Sergeant Avogadro's office, the only people who knew were the Scuti, maybe their hosts, myself, and Avogadro. Had he told the Marshal? It was never mentioned during my interrogation and trial. Who else had a reason to attack the Scuti?



"I'm concerned about this Army, Your Highness," Thomson said as I approached. "They won't be a match for the Imperial & Royal Army, even in its present state. The Shrub Auxiliary could even defeat this mob. They are undisciplined and untrained."

"I'll teach 'em how to kill!" Burnside shouted happily behind me. She pulled a large knife out of her Elfintory and dashed down the steps into the yard.

"You can't deny their enthusiasm," I pointed out, listening to the boisterous cheers and screams and clattering metal. "Look, we already have a regimental drummer helping keep up morale." I pointed to a rotund rodent who was beating out a martial rhythm on an overturned bucket.

"A chubby wombat thumping a tub?" Thomson scoffed. "IS THAT MUSIC??"

"NOT ANYMORE," I yelled over the racket as a trio of baglute players joined the wombat.

>The Marching Bagflute Players is significant. Very significant. Terrifyingly significant. Not sure if it bodes well or ill, but it bodes something.

>The child with the helmet is amongst the soldiers. They seem to think he's important because of the helmet. Wow, they really are dumb.

>Some of the soldiers have moved on from accusing each other of being spies to accusing plants, local wildlife, and small puddles.

>That music! Could it be...A HORRIBLE PUN?
>Burnside: Put the knife away and take a Blackjack out of your Elfintory.
>Adler: Insist on wearing some of Irenaeus' regalia. That actually fits.
>Duchess: Shrug and produce a yellow fedora. And matching trenchcoat.

Adler > Looking at the vial again, you feel a terrible sense of premonition. as if you have no choice but to use it

Army > still eating and drinking, the army march towards albric tor "see ya at the party adler!" someone yelled as they marched off. The music follows with them

>Adler: You need an experienced veteran to drill these recruits into a fighting force, someone like your grand uncle Roland. Ask him for help?

Alright, let's stop pussyfooting about it and finally ditch the velvet dork suit in favor of fur and leather barbarian gear already!

Adler, remember to ask the Duchess about proper handling procedures for the Plague of Battles. And also ask for an antidote in case if anything goes wrong.
Duchess, explain to Adler that there is no actual antidote, but that there is a vaccine, which everyone in the Antglade has already taken. Also tell him that lowfolk seem to be immune for some reason. Then give Adler several doses of the vaccine.

Adler and his staff, be surprised at how easily the soldiers started obeying orders issued by the "diminutive commander". Some of the orders, involve unusual requests.