The Ballad of Adler Young, Canto 2.5

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Pictures https://www.patreon.com/posts/75342986 or https://adleryoung.tumblr.com

A few minutes after Adler leaves, some of you in the audience begin whispering amongst yourselves:
"Is he gone?"
"Yes. Did you swap his tie?"
"I did. Are you sure this will work?"
"Of course. That tie came from the Kringle himself. It bears an enchantment forged of pure Christmas magic, ancient and primeval. It functions as a tracking device. No matter where he hides, the Kringle will know exactly where he is. Not only that, but if he tries to pook at any point he'll be sent directly to the Kringle's workshop."
"Excellent. And if this succeeds-"
"The Kringle will deliver on his end of the bargain. Oscar Meyer Wiener Whistles for all of us."
"But I wanted a bag of thirty silver pieces."
"Quiet, someone's coming."
The Guest Narrator enters and looks around.

>The temporary story teller enters the room and is taken aback by how "intense" the audience seems. After an awkward introduction, the story continues.

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What up, my righteous dudes and dudettes? Whoah, man, you all seem like, pretty tense. Perhaps you are buggin' or illin'? If so, my bad. Sorry to leave you hangin' like that for ... oh, however long that was, but I totally needed a minute to get ready for this gig. It's not every day a humble lowfolk dude gets asked to stand in for the king of the elves, you dig? Anyway, I'm totally psyched and pumped to be here, not to mention stoked as well. Who am I? My name's not important; you probably have no idea who I am anyway. Let's just say I'm a huge fan of Adler Young, and I've been like, following his story from the very start. It's a totally bodacious and rad, and perhaps even gnarly honor to be chosen by the big elf himself for this task, and I bet the rest of you wish he trusted you this much. I've got the book and I'll be reading from where we left off. Oh, and for like, the sake of total convenience I'll just stick with first-person narration since that's how this thing is written. Cool? Awesome. Let's get right to it then ...

...

As the Ixies warmed up the witches, I risked a quick peek over the dolmen to see what I would be working with. They seemed to be pretty much exactly what I imagined: A group of awkward social outcasts wearing too much black and too much makeup. A few of them had really bad posture. Hopefully I could help them find the dignity and self-confidence they lacked.

"HARK!" one of the Ixies yelled. They all went silent as if listening for something. When did they have a chance to rehearse this? It was practically perfect!

"He approacheth!" another Ixie declared.

"Cheese it!" a third one exclaimed. "Fly, Sisters, fly! Woe be unto whomsoever is caught lolligagging!"

The Ixies all buzzed away into the bushes, leaving an expectant hush over the stone circle. This was too good! On a sudden whim, I asked the trees to start rustling as if in a stiff breeze.

"There's no wind," one of the witches observed.

"By the Bunny!" someone else whispered. "This is sooo spooky!"

>Adler: You didn't expect them to get scared this quickly. Perhaps your original plan isn't a good idea anymore. No. No second thoughts. You need to fast track these people onto the path of righteousness. Trial by fire is necessary. Jump in before they leave.

Wait, was she genuinely getting scared? That wasn't what I intended! Time to get down there and start this meet-up properly!

>Adler: With a bright flash and billowing white smoke you step forward as a cloud of butterflies disperses from behind you. You glow with divine light and your eyes burn with holy fire. You have given yourself an angelic appearance.

I cast a bright flash-bang with a cloud of smoke in front of the dolmen, and immediately pooked in behind it, then strode forward through the cloud. I glamered my eyes to glow, and magickally amplified my voice to sound thunderous and impressive.

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"Who dares enter my domain?" I coughed through the smoke as a few butterflies flitted around me. "Who are you, that presume to be worthy to stand before me?"

>Coven: One of you lets out a terrified, blood-curdling shriek

"EEEEEEE!" one of the witches squealed in what might have been terror. "You spoke the truth, young Rebecca!"

"He's cute!" another one added.

>Adler: Uh, maybe you overdid it on the entrance. No changing course now, the show must go on. You continue to the next part.

"I need crusaders who are pure of heart and of noble of deed," I declared loudly, refusing to be sidetracked by their inappropriate remarks. "I see before me naught but witches and ne'er-do-wells whose hearts overflow with wicked desires!"

I was having trouble seeing, so I dispelled the glowing effect from my eyes and peered hard at my so-called coven.

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"You!" I bellowed, pointing at one and exerting Elfmind on her. "You were willing to sell your immortal soul just so you could bewitch some boy you have a crush on. The most precious thing any being has to offer, and you would squander it for a one night stand?"

The chubby vixen just grinned and gazed at me in gleeful amazement.

"And you!" I shouted, switching my attention to ... was she a small bear or a large mouse? "You wanted to learn how to curse your mother's garden so nothing could ever grow there again. You would curse your own mother over nothing but a small list of petty slights?"

"Well duh," the mouse (or was she a bear?) responded.

This wasn't going quite like I had expected.

"You!" I yelled, pointing at the duck in the back. She flinched noticeably, and when I probed with Elfmind, I detected her inwardly reciting, over and over, the mantra "Please don't tell them my secret, please don't tell them my secret, please don't tell them my secret..."

"You harbor a secret so dark," I improvised hastily, "this hallowed place shall not be profaned by the utterance of it."

The duck seemed to almost go limp with relief. What was going on? They didn't seem all that impressed with my mind-reading and my moral judgements! I was at a loss here. There was no choice but to push forward with my performance and hope for the best.

"I am he who is known as LORD RANDALL!" I proclaimed. "I am an agent of Seeliness, and a devout servant of Lady Fuma! I require, nay, DEMAND that my disciples be the same, and..."

"Hey, sweet thing," the bent old opossum crone cackled. "You didn't read my mind yet."

>The not so loyal audience members speak to the stand in.
>"We would like to say how grateful we are that you came all the way out here to fill in for and protect our wise and generous narrator."
>"It can't be understated what an honor this is."
>"We'd like to bestow a token of our appreciation."
>"Several tokens. Would you like to have a seat in this un-suspicious chair?"
>"Care to have a sip or two of this warm drink that hasn't been tampered with?"
>"You'd look so dapper with this tie on. Don't worry about taking it, I have more."

. . . .

>Adler: You slowly lower your arms as your dramatic flair deflates. The wind has been completely taken out of your sails as you sullenly scowl at the old crone. Your eyes shift to the rest of the coven, they are watching you expectantly. Your eyes go over to Rebecca, she is smiling broadly and nodding enthusiastically. You may as well finish what you started. With a weary sigh you look back at the old opossum and reach out with elf mind. You speak in a very unenthusiastic, non-committal way. "And you, you are guilty of-"
>Old Possum Lady: "No-no! Please do the voice."
>Coven: Yes, the voice was cool.
>Rebecca: Pleeeeeaaaaase!
>Adler: You groan in frustration. Fine, sure, why not? *Deep Breath* "AND YOU!!" *some of the coven begin clapping* "You spend every waking moment stewing in jealousy and thoughts of revenge! You would learn witchcraft to infuse dark magicks into food so you can cheat at baking contests!" You drop the voice. Wait, that's it? Really?
>Old Possum Lady: Not just that! You'd also whip up a hex so that hussy would never be able to bake a decent pie ever again! Every time she'd try to make a sweet pie it'll turn out sour and if she tries to make a sour pie it'll turn out sweet! You cackle maniacally. Ever since SHE moved in you've only come in second place; every contest, every festival, every holiday, and every spontaneous bake-a-thon your hometown is famous for. You were the rightful star baker, and then she just waltzed in and stole your title! The whole ordeal drove you to near madness, so you built a shack in the wilderness and spent years living life as a hermit, plotting witchcraft based revenge.
>Coven: Urge your elder to calm herself, lest her heart begins acting up again.
>Adler: As the coven fusses over the old possum, you stare at them in bewilderment. That was a grade-A performance! Any lowfolk who saw that should be groveling by now. Instead they're all acting like they just saw a street magician. What gives? You ask out loud why they weren't brought to their knees in fear and awe.
>Rebecca: Oh! You gush happily as you explain. Randall doesn't need to worry about that. Some of them were worried about coming out here after you were attacked, but you told them that he wouldn't let anything bad happen to them. You told them all about how Randall is the nicest, sweetest, most generous, and most seelie elf ever! He is a charming and sensitive soul, and a big romantic. When he talks to Miss Vernier, it's the cutest thing ever! You explained how he helped save you from yourself out of sheer benevolence, meticulously teaching you what it means to be seelie and the loving aura of Lady Fuma. The coven has nothing to fear from Randall as he will accept them all with open, loving arms. You also told them that He was putting a show together so it would be rude not to go. And that show did not disappoint!
>Alder: Why did she tell them all that??
>Rebecca: You beam proudly as you say, "It's Seelie to be honest."
>Burnside: You double over in helpless laughter as you hear this.
>Adler: You facepalm. You know, it really should have occurred to you to give Rebecca a script.

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Pictures https://www.patreon.com/posts/75651799 or https://adleryoung.tumblr.com

Some audience members take advantage of a break in the story to talk to our Guest Narrator.

"We would like to say," you say, "how grateful we are that you came all the way out here to fill in for and protect our wise and generous narrator."

No thanks needed. I like, consider it my duty to repay all of the super rad and poppin' fresh entertainment Adler has given us over the years.

"It can't be understated what an honor this is."

Oh totally.

"We'd like to bestow a token of our appreciation."

That's not necessary.

"Several tokens. Would you like to have a seat in this un-suspicious chair?"

Oh, okay, looks majorly comfy.

"Care to have a sip or two of this warm drink that hasn't been tampered with?"

Sweet! My throat was getting wicked dry from all that reading.

"You'd look so dapper with this tie on. Don't worry about taking it, I have more."

Aw, no way, man. Ties are like, most definitely not my style.

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But thanks for everything else! You guys are so swell, I might go so far as to say you were dope, and additionally fly! Now I can continue the story in max comfort. Let me just set this drink down and get the book ... here we are ... so next Adler says ...

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I slowly lowered my arms as my dramatic mood deflated and my butterflies flew away. I scowled at the old crone. The entire coven was watching me expectantly. Rebecca grinned and nodded, and made a thumbs-up gesture. Might as well finish this, I thought. With a weary sigh, I peered into the old opossum's mind.

"And you," I muttered blankly. "You are guilty of-"

"No-no!" she cackled. "Do the voice."

"Yes," the coven chimed in. "The voice was cool."

"Pleeeeeaaaaase!" Rebecca added from the back.

>Adler: You groan in frustration. Fine, sure, why not? *Deep Breath*

"Okay, fine," I grumbled. I took a deep breath and bellowed "AND YOU!!" Some of the witches politely applauded. "You spend every waking moment stewing in jealousy and thoughts of revenge! You would learn witchcraft to infuse dark magicks into food so you can cheat at baking contests!"

"Not just that!" the old crone cackled madly. "I'd also whip up a hex so that hussy would never be able to bake a decent pie ever again! Every time she tries to make a sweet pie it'll turn out sour, and if she tries to make a sour pie it'll turn out sweet! Eee hee hee hee hee! Ever since SHE moved in, I've been stuck in second place! Every contest, every festival, every holiday, and every spontaneous bake-off in the vibrant pastry culture my town is famous for! I was the Legendary Baker, and then she just waltzed in and stole my title! It drove me well nigh mad! Mad, I say! So I built a shack in the wilderness and spent years living life as a hermit, concocting horrid recipes and plotting witchcraft based revenge!"

"Now now, Mother Didelphis," Rebecca said, touching the old opossum's shoulder soothingly. "Calm down."

"Yes, remember your heart," the bear (mouse?) added.

"Your lumbago," the vixen pointed out.

"Your potted eels," the duck murmured dreamily.

As the coven fussed over the old opossum, I stared at them in bewilderment. I had given them a grade-A performance! Any lowfolk who saw that should have been groveling by now. Instead they were all acting like they had just seen a street juggler.

"Why were you people not brought to your knees in fear and awe?" I asked.

"I can explain!" Rebecca chirped happily. "Some of them were worried about coming out here after I was elf-shot, but I told them that you wouldn't let anything bad happen to them. I made sure they knew that Lord Randall is the nicest, sweetest, most generous, and most Seelie elf ever! He is a charming and sensitive soul, and a big romantic. When he talks to Miss Vernier, it's the cutest thing ever! Tee hee! Then I explained how you turned me away from a destructive path, meticulously teaching me what it means to be Seelie and live in the loving aura of Lady Fuma, who's not a demon at all. The coven has nothing to fear from Lord Randall, as he will accept them all with open, loving arms! I also told them that you were putting a show together, so it would be rude not to go. And that show did not disappoint!"

I just stared goggle-eyed at Rebecca as she said all this, and continued staring for a few seconds after she finished.

"Why did you tell them that?" I finally managed to wheeze out.

"Because it's Seelie to tell the truth!"

>Burnside: You double over in helpless laughter as you hear this.
>Adler: You facepalm. You know, it really should have occurred to you to give Rebecca a script.

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"HAW HAW HAW," Burnside guffawed. "Ya big Seelie weenie! That's whatcha get fer fillin' the poor gal's head with all that goody-goody junk, an' not givin' her a script!"