#tboay

[adleryoung]

As we entered the dolmen, it occurred to me that I should probably warn Zandar what was about to happen. She had, as far as I knew, never been to Faerie before. That was the reason I had tweaked the Gate (using my hard-earned mastery of it) to send us into the magickal scry-space instead of into the base of the tower. Couldn't have a potentially dangerous Changeling running loose until I had assessed the risk!

Did I forget to mention that? Well, it was something I did as part of my preparations. But to get back to the story…

"Nothing from that world may pass this portal," I warned her, an instant before all of her clothing disappeared. I turned to look, and saw that Zandar was very upset. I needed to let her know that I didn't do it on purpose! It wasn't a cheap trick just to see her naked, like Estvan would have pulled! "Oh my!" I exclaimed, in what I hoped was a convincing tone of surprise and regret. I also tried to make a face which indicated that, although this is not what I wanted to happen, I did still appreciate her beauty.

She was quite beautiful. I gazed a little longer, just to make my point (and to steady myself, since turning around had made my head spin.)

"BASTARD!!!" Zandar shrieked. "You made them put those horrible clothes on me!" She took a swing at me with some blunt object in her hand.

I blocked her attack easily, almost reflexively, thanks to Adoyret Sam's training. One concussion was enough for today! I had to admit to myself though, that this meeting was not going well. "Tut tut, temper, my sweet," I clucked in a soothing and reassuring tone.

Hold on a second; an object in her hand?? I had to keep reminding myself not to underestimate this femme! "What's this you've got?" I asked, peering at the item she had smuggled in. "No, this shouldn't have come through."

I took it from her and turned around to examine it in a better light. It was smooth and cold, fairly lightweight. What was it? "Ooh, no way! It's a.. That's.. WOW!" I muttered as I turned it around in my hands. In the state I was in, it took me more than a few seconds to recognize the item as a glass bottle.

"GIVE IT BACK!" Zandar yelled behind me.

I was raptly examining the bottle. How had it gotten through the Gate? Holy Fuma! Through my brain haze I could see some EXTREMELY dark magicks attached to this thing! What in the Netherhells had Zandar been doing?? "You must have been very VERY naughty to have gotten this, my sweet," I declared. "I'm somewhat impressed, though- OW!"

WHACK! She hit me in the back of the head! Why are femmes so quick to resort to violence? It was all I could do to keep from crying out in agony and falling over. I struggled to maintain my composure as the pain in my head rattled around like broken glass and rusty nails inside my skull.

"Okay, here… Jeez," I grumbled, holding the bottle out in the general direction of the five Zandars I could see, hoping that one of them would take it and be satisfied. "I guess that explains how it was that you managed to survive." I was disappointed to note that I had probably been giving her too much credit when I thought she had mastered preservation magic.

"Why did you bring me here?" Zandar demanded.

"Heh heh," I chuckled, changing tactics. If trying to soothe her with a calm and fatherly demeanor didn't work, then I would have to resort to Wiles. "Come closer and ask again."

"What do you want from me?" she asked, stepping closer.

I chuckled merrily so as not to seem creepy. It was working! She wasn't trying to hit me again! Her lack of murderousness meant she was primed for the coup de grace! I grasped her shoulders, cast a charming glamer over myself, and gave her a Smoldering Look.

"Oh Zandar, you and I are going to shake the pillars of the earth and set the halls of heaven ablaze," I breathed huskily. Pretty good stuff, just off the top of my head! She was surely becoming completely smitten!

"Um… We are?" she replied, in a way that revealed the true extent to which she remained unsmitten.

She seemed to have a high Wiles resistance. I would have to increase the dosage! I reminded myself that I wasn't dealing with Angela Weakflit here. It was time to take the gloves off! I leaned in close and gazed into her eyes. That's when I noticed… What WAS that on her forehead? It was hard to tell through my watery, blurred vision, but it looked like - IT COULDN'T BE - she was growing a third eye!!!

"GREAT FUMA'S WHISKERS!" I exclaimed as I backed away in horror and shielded my mouth so it couldn't suck out my soul. "Answer me plainly, woman, and do not dissemble- What in all the nine Netherhells is THAT?"

"Tis the mark of my sin," she answered glumly.

"I can see that already!" I hissed. What misbegotten demon-pacts had she made to turn her into such a freak of nature?? "FURTHER DETAILS!"

"Made with a silver dagger."

So it wasn't a third eye after all, but just a scar. Still, that was really bad! "HELSBEGONDI!" I gasped, horrified and dizzy. "By whom?"

"By one whom I had wronged."

What did that mean? Did someone try to murder her? Was that why she was late? Was there some deranged elf-hating serial killer going around tracking down and slaughtering Changelings?! I would need to warn Rebecca!

"What stupid, what knave, what miserable doomed cur would dare to do such a thing to you?" I bellowed, in spite of a headache that threatened to split my skull in half. "To one of US?"

I paused to catch my breath, and it suddenly sank in. Someone she had wronged? "Wait. You did what?"

I am well aware that this part of the story has already been told - and although the published version does not present me in a very flattering light, I cannot deny that it is an accurate record of events as they happened. Rather than rehash what you already know, how about you ask me questions and I'll fill in the missing parts.

#furry #adventure #elves #story #plot #cartoon #skunk #tboay

[sprocketholevandal]

The Ballad of Adler Young turned 1 today!

... the Tumblr reboot of it after the MSPAFA crash, that is ...

adleryoung.tumblr.com

#tumblr birthday #tumblr milestone #birthday #anniversary #furry #elf #adventure #story #tboay

[adleryoung]

I moved Zandar from the Folly where she had been compelled by necessity to give birth, and placed her in a comfortable bed in the Palace. I set up my stew cauldron and began cooking, so she would be awakened by pleasant and appetizing aromas.

"Ah, you're awake," I said, as she began to stir. "I made stew. Have some. It will restore your strength."

All she said in response was "Where's Wulfrida?" referring, of course, to the princess.

"She's safe," I said, after sipping the stew to make sure it was up to my usual standard. "You really should try the stew. It's delicious."

"What have you done with my daughter?" Zandar reiterated, with a note of belligerence.

"She's safe with a lowfolk family," I explained. "I traded our child for theirs. I believe you are familiar with this practice."

"But why?" she said, rather foolishly since the answer was obvious. Fine, if I was going to have to spell it out for her …

"It's traditional for elves to leave the rearing of our young to someone else," I stated, keeping it as simple as possible so she could not fail to understand. "Besides .. the thought of you with an infant is frankly appalling. I don't want you anywhere near her. Your stew is getting cold," I added, holding out the bowl to help ease the mood since I could see my remarks displeased her.

"Okay," she grumbled, actually more reasonably than I expected. "So what did you do with the lowfolk baby?"

Zandar didn't need to be burdened with the details about the O'Dors' dead child - and I admit I was starting to feel embarrassed about having made, in a moment of foolish soft-heartedness, such an uneven trade with some lowfolk who had not actually done anything to deserve it other than being descended from someone I liked. So I evaded the question by reminding her of the delicious distraction I had prepared for her.

"I made stew," I declared simply.

That's when she went berserk.

In retrospect I can see how, in that context, my words could have been misinterpreted. But only a completely twisted Unseelie mind would ever leap to such a horrid conclusion!

Zandar attacked me and called me all manner of nasty names. I fended off her blows with ease, thanks to Adoyret Sam's training (though alas, I dropped the bowl of stew) and wound up with her in an inescapable Gnostermonger hold.

"I'll kill you!" she snarled.

"That's inadvisable," I said, thinking of the Vulpitanians, Lana, the Shrub Army, Estvan, and the Boy Dukes. "Beings more powerful than you have tried and failed. You're overreacting, my dear. This is all standard elvish practice. I realize it is new and strange to you after living so long among lowfolk, but in time you'll relax and accept it."

"The only way I'll relax is if I'm dead," she protested over-dramatically.

"But Zandar, my sweet," I whispered, "I can't kill you." Which was true; the geas that had been placed on her made her impossible to kill … but more importantly I wouldn't have WANTED to. Once again she decided to interpret my statement in the worst possible way, because she was the worst possible person.

She stared at me coldly for a few seconds, then hissed "I'm leaving. Show me the way out of here."

"Through there," I said, pointing toward the Gateway arch. "But if you leave this realm, you may never return."

"Fine," she growled, clearly not thinking this through.

"Our daughter is protected from you," I called, hoping she might reconsider. "You'll never find her."

The dreadful prospect of never seeing her own child again did not deter her from walking through the Gate and sealing the ban that would prevent her from ever returning.

I pooked to the scrying chamber so I could see what happened next.

Zandar was standing, dumbfounded, in the stone circle - and wearing the outlandish costume she'd had on when she arrived, and which the Gate had removed when she crossed over into Faerie! I had not expected all of that stuff to be returned when she crossed in the other direction, but now that I had seen it, it made sense.

She wrestled with the constricting garments, and was able to remove the shoes and gloves - but Venatrix had made the dress to my exacting specifications, and Zandar could not remove it herself.

After failing to take off the clothes, Zandar cried for a while, collecting the tears in her little magick bottle. I couldn't blame her for having an emotional outburst at such a low point. I had done it myself often enough.

When she had wept enough, she yelled impotent curses at me, then got up and began trudging away - straight toward Bunkirk! Those insane rabbits might do anything if they saw a well-dressed skunkess come walking out of the "haunted" woods! And the collar of her dress was magicked to prevent her talking to strangers! This could be disastrous!

#furry #adventure #elves #story #plot #cartoon #skunk #tboay

[adleryoung]

It looks like you've asked more questions:

Ever think you might owe Zandar an apology?

For what??? For giving her chance after chance, and treating her infinitely better than she deserves? I don't regret any of that. Perhaps I should, but it simply takes too much effort to harbor malice toward her.

You still haven't explained about the baby stew.

I'm getting to that! Fuma's sakes, you lowfolk are impatient! A good story, like a good stew, cannot be rushed. It must be slowly simmered, and then savored when it's cooked to perfection.

Are you still rich & single? Any allergies or weaknesses to poison?

All right. Question time is over. Let's get back to the story.

I believe I left off just before our daughter was born. It went smoothly as far as I could tell, but Zandar was exhausted from her travail, and fell asleep. As I sat there thinking, I came to the conclusions I mentioned earlier, namely that neither of us were fit parents for a little elflet (Zandar least of all!) so I picked up the child and used a bit of Gramarye to make sure Zandar would stay asleep until I returned.

I would have to hide the Princess someplace where Zandar would never find her, and I had an excellent idea where that would be. They were even expecting a baby right around this time! It would be perfect! I set out toward the O'Dor residence on a Top Secret mission, accompanied by only one Ixie.

"Continuing the old Changeling tradition then, sir?" she asked me.

"You know about that?"

"It's in the stories," she replied. "I wonder though, when they come of age, how do they know they're elves? Is it some sort of instinct?"

"No," I explained. "Someone is supposed to come and fetch them … or at the very least, tell them where they need to go. I'll be watching over my daughter from the shadows, to make sure she grows up safe and doesn't fall in with a bad crowd. It won't do to have the Princess of Faerie associating with riff-raff, writers, artists, musicians, and other worthless idlers."

"It will require constant vigilance," the Ixie observed.

As I approached the O'dor household in the middle of the night, I couldn't help but sigh as I thought of Vernier. "She ended up marrying another lowfolk," I muttered bitterly. "Even though she confessed that she had feelings for me."

"You mean old Mama Vernier?" the Ixie surmised. "Angela Weakflit told us that sad tale. The reason Vernier never yielded to your desire is because she knew about the curse that befalls all elves who fall in love with lowfolk."

"She did?" I demanded. "How did she find out? Why didn't she ever say anything?"

"It's in the old ballads," the Ixie shrugged. "She probably never said because she wanted to save your feelings, or maybe she knew you'd try to talk her out of it."

That seemed like Vernier. I mulled this over in silence as we walked toward the O'Dor residence. When we finally arrived, I was surprised to see the place still lit up despite the late hour. I could hear a man talking and a femme in obvious distress. I crept into the bushes beneath the window to listen to their conversation.

"Again, Seamus?" Mrs. O'Dor sobbed. "How could it happen again? I was careful! I took no liquor, ate plenty o' potatoes, an' did no heavy liftin' but she came early anyway."

"Tis not your fault, Mary," Seamus O'Dor answered, clearly struggling to seem calm. "Sure an' ye did everything roight."

"Then why?" Mary wailed.

"Fuma's ways are mysterious," Seamus sighed. I was pleased to note that Mephitism had gained a strong foothold in this district, as opposed to the nonsensical cult that the rabbits of Bunkirk followed. "Mayhap it's the Lady's will that we not have children."

Ridiculous! I frowned. Childlessness was never Fuma's will! These lowfolk may have been nominally Mephitist but they obviously still had a lot to learn.

"Twice is enough, macushla," Seamus murmured soothingly over Mary's muffled sobbing. "We daren't try again. Doctor says it'll imperil your health, bedad."

At that moment I made a decision. These were the descendants of one of the only people who was ever genuinely kind to me, and I had the power to mitigate their misfortune. I magicked up a basket and put my precious daughter in it, and I wrote a note:

"I once knew a very kind but unlucky femme named Vernier. She did me a great service once and helped me when I had given up hope. I owe her a wish which she never claimed. Since Vernier now rests in her grave, the wish goes to her descendant. Tonight the debt is finally paid. I shall take away the burden of your sorrow, and leave my own precious daughter in exchange for the child you have lost. Treat her with love and kindness, as if she were your own, just like Vernier would have done. Signed, the King of the Elves."

With a mix of emotions, I placed the basket on the doorstep. I knocked on the door and quickly pooked away into the darkness. I lingered long enough to observe that the note was read and the basket was taken into the house. Then I turned, and my Ixie and I headed for home.

Dropping off Changelings was strenuous work! I decided that when I returned to the palace, I would greet Zandar as she awoke with a fresh pot of delicious stew. That would surely soften the blow of informing her that I had traded our child for one that was already dead, essentially getting nothing at all out of the deal … but it had been the right thing to do!

#furry #adventure #story #plot #cartoon #elf #tboay

[adleryoung]

Let's take a look at some of your questions.

Do you really believe what you say or is it all an act? Also some rubbish about classism and the decline of the elves.

Elves do not lie. I'm not entirely sure what you're implying with the rest of your comment, but it is an established historical fact that too much associating with lowfolk is bad for our health. Staying aloof is the way to prosper.

Was he dabbing?

I have no idea what that means.

While Zandar was sleeping, did you ever use that magic bowl trick to see into her mind?

Fuma have mercy! That never even occurred to me. You lowfolk are truly devious … and yet some of you have the nerve to insinuate that I am Unseelie! Clearly a case of one of your many cognitive defects, the one called … what is it … projection? I think that's it.

Did you turn a low folk child into stew and feed them to Zandar? how did you come up with the "your original biological kid is missing, sent to lowfolk family, and yes, you did ask what did I do with the original lowfolk babe, so hey I made stew!" explanation?

Ah yes, I knew it was only a matter of time before this came up.

The short answer is, we are Royalty, and elvish royalty do not raise their own children! Additionally I came to trust Zandar less and less the more I learned about her. I couldn't let HER raise my child! She wanted to call the baby "Wulfrida," for Fuma's sake! That clearly indicates complete unfitness to be a parent. Furthermore: You can mock my intellectual ability all you like, but at least I had the sense to know that I was ill-equipped (not to mention too busy) to tend to the newborn princess myself.

Like, do you think you could have phrased it better, given how you presented yourself? Magical gate, fields strewn with skeletons, dead city, skeletal king on his dusty throne! You've clearly showed yourself as a great conqueror and killer of elves, wielder of terrible powers! To someone like her, wouldn't that paint you as someone who'd have no qualms making glazed ham out of random lowfolk and elf alike? Do you think this whole gig kinda, like, backfired a bit?

All of that should have charmed and impressed her! I admit it was my fault for failing to take into account the fact that Zandar was a complete stranger to elvish culture and knew nothing of our ways.

Also what herbs and vegetables do you use in your stews and what do you use as a thickener if you use any?

It requires a magickal spice called "paprika" which I believe is only available in Faerie. I don't want to give away too many secrets, because this information in the wrong hands could wreak havoc on your world … but I will whisper two words that will make sense to the initiated: SASSAFRAS FILE.

Now then, to properly explain what happened to the princess and her lowfolk swapling, I have to backtrack and set the stage.

Zandar and I had venery together, and I persuaded her to crown me. I was then able to issue a Royal Proclamation which lifted the geas confining me to Albric Tor, and also (reluctantly) honored the bargain I had made with Dr. Owter Cesawonki (aka Ash Marten.)

After a while Zandar became pregnant. I cared for her as best I could, even calling upon Barkingthwaite and Venatrix and my Ixie network to procure some of the more exotic foods Zandar craved as her gestation progressed.

Zandar was unfortunately addicted to the pernicious lowfolk habit of SLEEPING several hours per day. I joined her a few times, but ultimately I felt I was simply enabling her dependency. Perhaps during some of these naps, I should have used Estvan's water-bowl trick to spy on her dreams, but in retrospect it's probably best that I didn't.

More importantly, I could not stand wasting time lazing about when there was a world to explore! I hadn't seen anything beyond my stone circle and the battlefield in AGES, so every time Zandar snoozed, I was out wandering with a few of my Ixies, seeing sights and making connections. That's how I tracked down the O'Dor family that Vernier had married into so long ago. I also located the Persoc Tor Gate surprisingly close by (it's much farther in Faerie) and managed to get back in touch with Burnside and Rebecca.

But my goodness! Look at the time! That's enough for now, and I'll resume the tale when we meet again, next week. May Fuma guide your steps and protect you from owls until then!

#furry #adventure #elves #story #plot #cartoon #skunk #tboay

[adleryoung]

"We've only just started our courtship," Barkingthwaite spluttered, "and already THAT's being brought up?? It's much too soon! I-It j-just isn't proper! Simply not done, by gad!"

"Pish posh," Venatrix pished. "We've known each other since childhood. If anything I'd say this was a long time coming. And besides, the two of us even slept in the same room last night."

"Yes yes, that may be true," Barkingthwaite countered. "We've known each other our entire lives, of course, but we've only officially become an 'item' recently. And don't try to misrepresent our lodging arrangements to His Lordship. You must understand, my lord, Pellia slept on the bed and I was on the floor, on the opposite side of the room, wearing five layers of clothing and two blindfolds. These things simply cannot be rushed into."

"I do seem to recall," Venatrix stated, "that you were the one to initiate our first kiss, and we have done plenty of hand-holding over the past few days. In public, no less."

"Well I, why," Barkingthwait stammered as he blushed and broke out in a sweat.

"All right, all right," I intervened. It wouldn't do for this lowfolk person to have a heart attack here in my stone circle. "You two can have plenty of time to sort out your relationship. I've waited this long; I won't mind waiting a bit longer. Plus you'll have the arduous journey to Londinium to further strengthen your bond."

"It's really not that far, my lord," Barkingthwaite anxiously pointed out. "Not nearly far enough."

"If you can't do it, then you'll have to find someone for me who can," I informed him. "Do I need to point out that honor is at stake?"

"In that case, I shall do my best," Barkingthwaite sighed.

"Good man!" I grinned reassuringly. "Stout fellow! Now then, you'll have to be on your guard because this Zandar is reputed to be Unseelie. She was at one time headmistress of the Floozies' Guild and is a master of bodymagick and Wiles."

"Wiles??" Venatrix snorted. "I'll believe a lot of things, but Wiles as a school of magick is simply too far."

"Nevertheless, it's true," I retorted, "and you'd best be on your guard. I have enchanted the clothing to restrain her and limit her power, so be sure to get her dressed as quickly as possible. Do not let her touch you, and especially don't leave her alone with him. I need her delivered to me untouched and unsullied."

"My self control is unquestionable!" Barkingthwaite protested.

"You've never gone up against a Wiles master," I warned him. "And there's another point I just thought of. I believe the location is a residence, so you may need to case the establishment and make sure the inhabitants are out before -"

"Are you he?" a small voice asked as a large insect buzzed near my head. "Are you the legendary White Elf?"

IT WAS AN IXIE!

"Wait right there!" I told Barkingthwaite and Venatrix as I dashed around to the other side of the dolmen. "I've got to, uh, take a private call!"

"What a charming euphemism," Barkingthwaite reflected. "I may have to start using it myself."

#furry #adventure #story #plot #cartoon #elf #tboay

[adleryoung]

"Now then," I continued, "this next part will be tricky. You will have to gather very specific ingredients in very specific ways. I suppose I should apport a quill and some parchment to write it down for you."

"No need to trouble yourself, my lord," Venatrix grinned as she and Barkingthwaite both produced notebooks and pencils from their pockets. "We are scholars first and foremost. Our original intent when coming out here was to document the ruins."

"That was MY intent," Barkingthwaite corrected. "Your was to meet the White Elf."

"And which did we wind up doing, my dear?"

Barkingthwaite simply nodded.

"While we are here," Venatrix continued, "with notebooks in hand, perhaps you might be willing to give an interview? It would be fascinating to document an elf's point of view. You could issue a definitive correction to the recorded lore."

I did agree that a published interview might attract more followers and make my name more relevant to the public, but for now I needed my helpers to stay focused on their assignment.

"First things first," I replied. "Perhaps I shall grant you an academic interview as a bonus reward if you complete this next task in a timely manner. Now then, pay attention. This will not be simple. It will, in fact, be tricky. First you will need mandrake root. You may have been told that the scream of the mandrake when it is pulled up can drive people mad. This is true, but if you start yelling at it first then it will be cowed into submission and you may harvest it safely. Get at least four roots. More would be better. I also require a pound of tulge, which is a fungus that grows around the roots of trees. There may be some in this forest. A dozen frog's tongues, but they must be collected during the night of a new moon. I'll also need a dash of oregano … no, not your standard garden herb. I am speaking of PHILOSOPHER'S oregano."

"This is most fascinating!" Venatrix exclaimed. "I suppose it means that Mac is correct about all of his ceremonial trappings, and magick is incredibly specific. Perhaps one could even say there's a 'science' to performing magick, eh?"

"Please, no puns," I scolded. "They are not conducive to Gramarye at all."

"Actually, my lord," Venatrix pointed out. "That was merely wordplay. A pun is specifically when -"

I gave her a withering glare and she immediately stopped talking. I finished listing my ingredients and describing thoroughly the methods for obtaining them.

After the duo departed on their new assignment, I proceeded to cast containment spells on the clothing they had brought. I had to protect my agents from whatever fell magicks Zandar might attempt to throw at them, and make sure she could be safely transported here. The ornate collar piece especially, I enchanted so that its wearer would be able to speak to Barkingthwaite, Venatrix, and myself - but nobody else.

When that was done, I settled down to wait.

#furry #adventure #story #plot #cartoon #elf #tboay

[adleryoung]

HA! His Majesty is back, and now that he's given me a list of names, heads will finally roll! He hasn't seen fit to remove my magick antler, probably because I'll need it for a disguise! Oh, and there is only one name on this list, but this is obviously the ring-leader. Once I find "Kathy-Slou Drew," everything will fall into place and these ungrateful yew-man traitors will finally feel an elf's justice! What's that, my liege? What do you mean by muttering "The horror, the horror" over and over? No no, your adoring subjects are right here, hanging on your every word. Tell them some more of your story while I go take care of this unpleasant business. It will help ease your troubled mind. And don't worry, Kathy-Slou can't hide from The Sisterhood. Not for long. . . .

"By Jove!" the dog lowfolk person exclaimed. "There he is! He was real all along!" "REALLY?" the fancy-dressed femme retorted. "One glimpse! That's all it took to convince you?" "Seeing is believing," he affirmed. "I was somewhat undecided all along, so this was enough to sway my opinion." "I cannot believe it!" the femme screeched. "Why then were you scoffing and naysaying the entire time?! Was that all just an act?!" "Miss Venatrix," the dog stated solemnly, "SOMEONE needs to keep you grounded and focused. You do have a habit of getting too excited and running off without a thought or a plan." "You are not my keeper! I am an adult, fully capable of taking care of myself!"

I was confused. Had they come here to find me, or had they merely stumbled upon the stone circle while in the midst of what looked like a lovers' quarrel? "Indeed," the dog said skeptically. "The only reason I'm still here is the oath your father made me swear on his deathbed. I promised to keep you out of trouble!" "Oh you're always bringing that up!" Miss Venatrix sighed in exasperation. "Father only trusted you because you were his favorite student!" "Is that a note of jealousy I detect?" the dog grinned. "You would have been his favorite student, my dear, had you actually bothered with your studies instead of fantasizing about elves all day. His own daughter, and such a disappointment." "Stick in the mud!" Venatrix shot back. "Flibbertyjibbet!" "Teacher's Pet!" "Harpy Queen!"

This looked like it was getting good. I sat down at the edge of the circle and watched the pair of lowfolk arguing just beyond the wall of underbrush. "ROGER BARKINGTHWAITE!!" Miss Venatrix yelled. "You INFURIATING mel! That is IT! I cannot put up with this anymore! I want you gone! I never want to see you again!" "Fine!" Barkingthwaite replied hotly. "Keeping you out of trouble has been a tremendous burden! I've put my career on hold just to follow you around and keep you from getting yourself killed in reckless adventures! No more! You can wander about in circles until you starve for all I care, solemn oath be damned!" "You seem to forget," Venatrix sneered, "I've saved you more than a few times! You would have died in that bog if I hadn't thrown you a rope of my own silk to pull you out!" "And why was I in that bog in the first place?" Barkingthwaite bellowed. "Following you on another of your mad capers! You would have been shot by that gang of thugs if I hadn't spent nearly my entire inheritance bribing them off! I've been well nigh reduced to beggary, and for what?" "They wouldn't have actually shot me!" Venatrix insisted. "What kind of mel can't call someone's bluff? Your current reduced circumstances are entirely your own fault. At any rate, you should be thanking me for getting you away from your mouldy old ancestral hall and out of that dusty library! I daresay you've spent every waking moment in there ever since we were both children." "The library was safe and predictable!" Barkingthwaite asserted. "That is the proper life of a scholar! Not running around, engaging in fisticuffs with thugs, like some whip-cracking grave robber! And you're the one who should be thanking me! I'm the only friend you've ever had because no one else could put up with your unbearable nonsense!" "WELL I -" Venatrix blurted, then paused. "Well… We two HAVE been stuck together for quite a long time…" "Indeed," Barkingthwaite nodded. "We've helped each other out rather a lot over the years." "And this journey getting here," Venatrix added quietly. "We've gotten each other out of quite a few scrapes." "I must admit," Barkingthwaite admitted, "we do make a jolly good team when the chips are down." He paused for a moment and puffed on his pipe.

"EGAD!" he barked suddenly. "The legend! Of course! The legend of the White Elf! It is said that those seeking the White Elf would face trials to test them, and that there would be a boon awaiting them at the end of their journey!" "What are you getting at?" Venatrix asked suspiciously. "What is the boon?" "Why, it's us!" Barkingthwaite exclaimed triumphantly. "Each other! How long have we been forced to work together while hating each other the whole time?" "I begin to understand," Venatrix murmured. "All those wasted years." "Our journey here was the trial and this is the boon! Do you see? Lord Randal the White Elf, sworn servant of the love goddess Fuma, knew of our plight and set in motion all the troubles we've had on this adventure!" "Forcing us to work together and realize how much we need each other!" Venatrix added excitedly. "Oh how blind we've been!" Barkingthwaite lamented. "We were the perfect team our entire lives and never realized it! But Lord Randal saw it and made all of this happen to teach us our folly!" "A perfect team, you say?" Venatrix asked coyly. "Perhaps not JUST a team," Barkingthwaite mused thoughtfully. "You know, Pellia, my dear, I've never noticed just how beautiful your eyes are…" "And I've never noticed how dashing you look…" "Sweetie!" Barkingthwaite sighed, enraptured. "Honey!" Venatrix sighed back. "Darling, let's never fight again!" Barkingthwaite suggested. "Oh Roger, my love," Venatrix cooed, "Lord Randal in his infinite wisdom has shown us that we were always meant to be soulmates!"

The two of them embraced and kissed passionately. I began to applaud. I had no idea what was going on, but it was the most entertaining thing I had seen in decades.

#furry #adventure #story #plot #cartoon #elf #skunk #tboay #sheep

[adleryoung]

Lana Lynne greets you coldly.

I shall be reading His Majesty's manuscript until next week when he returns from a situation which I know SEVERAL of you ingrates had a hand in. He is your rightful king, your lord and master, you are not worthy to sniff his regal musk, yet he takes time out of his busy schedule every week to entertain you with his story. How do you repay his kindness? By betraying him to the elves' most ancient and implacable enemy. I was, alas, not at the "Feast" where His Majesty let his guard down. To be honest, I left in disgust after watching my liege "go native," which means, unfortunately, I won't have any leads on who did what until he gets back. Had I remained by his side, I can assure you that the whole debacle would have gone down quite differently. Before anyone asks, I am still wearing the antler because His Majesty magicked it to stay on after it kept falling off. I won't be able to remove it until he gets back. It would be tedious and distasteful to lock the doors and start interrogating people, so until His Majesty returns and gives me a list of names, I'm just going to pretend that I'm not sitting in a room full of back-stabbing traitors and pick up where he left off in the story. But mark my words, if anyone makes a wrong move or acts suspiciously, I will be making a note of it. Anyway ahem

Pellia Venatrix said (oh is this the part where he met them for the first time?) She said, "This must be the fabled Albric Tor! It's real! This is positively an earth shattering discovery!" Roger Barkingthwaite said, "Is it really? These stones were discovered long ago by Percy le Gobelet. It's all written quite plainly in his book. To take credit for this find would be tantamount to intellectual theft." Pellia responded, "You know what I mean! We have confirmation now of the existence of a site which most scholars had dismissed as a myth or an outright fabrication! It's not theft! We can start our own research where le Gobelet left off. I have so many questions about the White Elf entity that kept popping up in his work. If half of the old bird's stories about the White Elf are true, why, the monograph I'll write will make the Royal Society sit up and take notice!" Roger said, "Lord Randal." Pellia replied, "What?" Roger elaborated, "The few research papers published by Percy's grandson clearly stated that the White Elf was named 'Lord Randal,' and they do not paint him in a flattering light. Le Gobelet's exact words, as you recall, were 'Lord Randal, Ye Numptie.'" Pellia objected, "Those papers showed clear signs of shoddy research and were very vague. A magical elf lord could never be a numpty; it's simply not possible. Those papers were obvious fictions which Percy the Younger wrote to profit from his grandfather's reputation. An army of trees attacking an entire city, preposterous! Such an event, if it happened, would be well documented in every archive in Eire, yet there's no outside corroboration. Le Gobelet is the only chronicler who mentions it." Roger chuckled, "Preposterous? Really, my dear? Whatever happened to achieving enlightenment through faith?"

Pellia snapped, "Oh you IMPOSSIBLE mel! Did you accompany me all the way out here just to be a killjoy naysayer the entire time?" Roger stated, "I'm just being a realist." Pellia scoffed, "A realist? In what way is an army of trees besieging a town realistic?!" Roger nodded, "Precisely. It's all ridiculous. The only real part of Percy's fairytale writings so far has been this stone circle, and quite frankly I'm astonished to find even this much of it supported by evidence." Pellia exclaimed, "That's why we are here! If Percy was right about this, what else was he right about? We must discover if there's any truth to it! The pursuit of folklore to prove or disprove it is a legitimate form of scholarly study." Roger scoffed, "Scholarly study indeed. Chasing fancies. Shall we look for dragons next?" Pellia hissed, "How DARE you, sir!!!"

The conversation was getting tense, so the future lord of all the elves decided to magnanimously step in and deescalate things. He leaned out of the dolmen and shouted cheerfully, "GREETS OF DAY LORD RANDALL!" You have to keep in mind, he had not spoken to anyone other than a tree in a long time.

#furry #adventure #story #plot #cartoon #elf #skunk #sheep #tboay

[adleryoung]

I locked myself in the scrying tower and took shelter behind a bookcase for a while, until the panic subsided and it became apparent that the ghost was not pursuing me.

As I huddled there, mulling over recent events, I came to a few realizations. Everyone and everything was out to get me. Even Lady Fuma herself seemed to have some sort of vendetta, because her blessing of Luck had led me inexorably to my current situation. To add further insult, the few people who seemed to genuinely want to help me wound up suffering for it.

There was no avoiding the conclusion that my life sucked.

After a while I got tired of hiding. I got up and decided I might as well try to do something constructive.

I peered into the scrying orb, but of course there was nobody around to spy on, and my range of vision stopped short at the edge of the forest. That meant the rabbits' prayers were still having their effect.

I continued practicing the martial exercises Adoyret Sam had taught me, so I wouldn't lose my fighting edge.

I decided to pass the time by experimenting with the Gate. I needed to be able to precisely control the time slips, and there was nothing else to do, so I devoted all of my remaining energy to this task. Working from what I had read in the theory books, and advice that had been given by various elves, I traversed the Gate over and over. I walked, I skipped, I jumped, I perambulated, I lunged, I hopped, I writhed, I slunk, I slithered, I even Pooked. Each time I tried to gauge my results, but there was a problem.

I had no means of precisely measuring time on either side of the Gate. I could set up an hourglass, but if the sand ran out I'd have no way of knowing how long ago that had happened. On the Faerie side, everything was dead and absolutely nothing changed. I could tell the difference between morning, noon, and night, but beyond that there was no way to know if it was the same day, or a week later, or a year. On the lowfolk side I could at least consult the trees, but their concept of time was very vague. They paid attention to the dates for budding, flowering, fruit, and fall … but in between was kind of a blur. In the spring, some of them could count days since the last frost - but only up to five. After asking them several times how long I had been gone, and being told "it's still the same summer," I gave up on them and started trying to figure out how long it took a dandelion to wilt after picking.

I was engaged in this research when Lana Lynne showed up. She hadn't made a sound; not even her bell jingled to alert me of her approach. I simply turned around from my dandelion experiment, and there she was.

#furry #adventure #elves #story #plot #cartoon #tboay

[adleryoung]

Oh, you're here for your weekly story time, are you?

Think I don't know what's going on here? The Kringle's month is fast approaching! I've had close calls these past few years, and I know with utmost certainty that there is not just one but SEVERAL conspirators in my "loyal" entourage of listeners, working for that accursed Kringle! I've given them multiple opportunities to turn themselves in, but it seems they're too cowardly, or too lost to the ways of Unseeliness to ever do the right thing.

I am well aware that the lowfolk holiday of Thanksgiving is just the start of a grotesquely extended Kringlemas, so I'm going to get gone now, whilst the getting is good.

Oh, what's that? You want to know who the replacement narrator will be while I'm gone? Well, guess what? Thanks to a few disloyal cretins whom you all continue irrationally to protect, there will be no replacement this year.

No one volunteered after they found out what happened to the last guy. Poor Alder Goyun. He's still in therapy!

I believe you lowfolk have a saying about making your bed and lying in it. You'll just have to deal with your own mess while I get a good hiding spot. No, I won't be telling you where I am going, so don't bother asking. You'll have a month to sit quietly and think about what you've done. Take the opportunity to ruminate on the concepts of loyalty and betrayal.

Farewell! I shall see you backstabbing ne'er-do-wells again sometime around New Year's.

#furry #adventure #story #plot #cartoon #elf #skunk #tboay

[adleryoung]

"Get up," I said warily. "And stop doing … whatever this is."

"Of course, Your Highness," Lana gushed as she got back to her feet. "Naturally you'll want to keep up appearances and continue pretending you're a moronic simpleton, but don't worry. I shan't tell a soul about your brilliant ruse."

"Are you really being seri-" I started to ask.

"Of course you must have anticipated that I would eventually piece things together. OH!" Lana clenched her hooves and grinned excitedly, which was even more horrifying than her usual irritable glower. "I passed your test! I'm … I'm a part of history now! This is such an honor!"

"You're handling this a lot … differently than I expected," I hazarded.

"Oh thank you, my liege!" she giggled. "I'm just thrilled to be part of it at last! Now that I finally know what's going on, I'm your inside ewe! Action! Suspense! Intrigue! Oh it will be magnificent! You must have a brilliant plan on what to do next. So tell me, what's the mission?"

"You're a clever sheep," I muttered. "You figure it out."

"Ooh, another test," she breathed. "I shall try. Let's see … my first impulse is to avoid the obvious, but then again if you want to lull everyone into believing you are an utter dolt, then obvious would absolutely be the way to go. No, there's always an element of the unexpected in your plans … hmm … something no sane person would ever think of doing … this is difficult."

"It's not that hard," I chided her. "Just think about what I need, and my objective becomes clear."

"What you need is for Zandar to crown you so you can lift the queen's geas and leave this circle," Lana summarized.

"And how do I accomplish that?"

"You'd send - oh, no, wait, you wouldn't because you don't want to be beholden to The Sisterhood."

"That's right," I nodded. "It has to be done without their help so it's MY victory, not theirs."

"Amazing," Lana sighed ecstatically. "You MUST be the Niknak Padiwak. But wait … without Sisterhood help, you will have to rely on lowfolk, because - as you well know - nobody else can get past the Bunkirk rabbits."

I didn't know that, but I was not about to disabuse Lana of her mistaken assessment of me. If she wanted to believe I was some sort of diabolical arch-schemer, I'd be every bit the fool she previously thought I was if I didn't use that to my advantage.

"Relying on lowfolk help means waiting for them to show up," she pointed out hesitantly. "It could take a long time."

"Elves have plenty of time," I pointed out. "And I'm very patient. I'll still be playing out my gambit long after everyone else has forgotten there was even a game on."

"That is brilliant," Lana simpered. "What do you need me to do?"

"Spread the legend of the White Elf," I replied. "I also need to find out for sure if Zandar is in that house, and if so, how she has survived. However, you are still a Sisterhood Floozy and I can't have any Sisterhood operatives involved. They already know you're working for me under our previous agreement, so how about I send you to track down Zandar's back trail. I believe she came from Sceorle Tor, so that would be the place to start."

"That's a long way away," Lana observed.

"Yes," I confirmed, trying not to chuckle. My ancestor Roland the Dutiful had sent the Skönks to that Fuma-forsaken place to get them out of the way, and his strategy could work for me as well.

#furry #elves #adventure #story #plot #cartoon #skunk #tboay #sheep

[adleryoung]

I chuckled as I watched Zandar mutely hail a young rabbit she found playing at the edge of the woods. The tyke screamed and ran away. Heh heh! Maybe he thought she was a ghost!

Next Zandar found a pair of rabbit femmes gathering acorns in a clearing. They too ran away in a panic. Maybe the rabbits would be so terrified they would abandon their dumb little town! It would serve them right!

But as Zandar approached Bunkirk, a group of mels came out to meet her with guns and pitchforks. They demanded that she explain herself, and of course she could not, so they immediately assumed she was a witch.

Lowfolk! Honestly, what is wrong with them that makes them act this way?

They coiled a length of rope around Zandar, tied it tight, and marched her into town.

I didn't care HOW Unseelie she was, I couldn't let a bunch of ignorant lowfolk treat my queen this way! Those rabbits had gone too far this time! Now I was free, and I could actually do something about them!

There wasn't much time, so I quickly threw together a simple disguise and covered it with a glamer so the rabbits would think I was one of them. I also needed to bring a swarm of Ixies for backup in case things went sour … but a cloud of large insectoids buzzing around would surely draw attention. I had to think fast, so I conjured up a baby carriage and had the Ixies hide inside, under the blanket.

Thus prepared, I pooked into the outskirts of Bunkirk and hurried toward the town square where everyone was gathered.

"What's all this?" I demanded.

"We've caught a witch, Squire," one of the rabbits replied, as if he had known me all his life. My disguise was working perfectly so far!

"Really?" I replied. "What makes you think she's a witch?" I would have to be subtle and get these bumpkins to examine their assumptions without directly challenging them. If they began to suspect I wasn't a real member of their community, then the game was up!

"She came out o' the haunted wood!" the same rabbit answered, after respectfully removing his cap. "Everybody knows that place is full o' goblins an' skunk elves!"

"Sure an' she looks might skunky to me," a femme added.

"She certainly does look like a skunk," I observed cautiously as I stepped through the crowd to get closer to Zandar.

"You chose this," I whispered, to remind her that it had been her own decision to leave the safety of Albric Tor.

Instead of apologizing or asking for help, she HISSED at me angrily and insolently!

"Hey!" one of the rabbits yelled as he prodded Zandar with a pitchfork. "Show respect to Squire Young!"

SQUIRE YOUNG?? Did they somehow know my name, or was that a lucky guess?

"He's a good man!" declared another.

"Him a widower an' raisin' that baby all by himself," a femme added, using her own imagination to fill in the blanks in my disguise. Lowfolk sure are suckers for a basic glamer!

"Good people, please," I insisted, still determined to try and save the situation. "The fact that she is a skunk does not prove she is a witch."

"She's either one of 'em, or she's been with 'em," various members of the crowd called out. "She came out o' the woods! An' look at what she's wearin! She won't talk! I ordered her in the name o' the Deity ta speak, an' she just stood there starin' at me!"

"Well now, that is suggestive," I admitted in a conciliatory tone. Turning to Zandar, I asked her, "Have you nothing to say in your own defense?"

The spell on her collar would have allowed her to speak to me, but instead of trying, she simply glared at me with an expression full of malice.

"How peculiar," I sighed after what felt like a long pause. If Zandar didn't want my help, that was her choice to make. They wouldn't be able to kill her at any rate, because of her strange geas … but at least I could try to dissuade them from burning her at the stake. "I believe hanging at the crossroads is the usual procedure, but you might want to consult a priest first."

"Thankee Squire," said the first rabbit who had spoken to me. "That's just what we'll do."

I turned and walked away as quickly as I could without raising suspicion, as I heard the rabbit say "What d'ye think, Father?"

I rounded the corner and pooked away just as another voice answered, "I'll go with what Squire Young said."

#furry #adventure #elves #story #plot #cartoon #skunk #tboay

[adleryoung]

Time passed.

I got pretty good at controlling the time slip around the Gate.

I became an expert on the decay rate of dandelions.

I named butterflies and raced them around the stone circle.

I bathed periodically.

I ate stew made from acorns, insects, and various weeds that grew nearby in the forest.

Occasionally the trees would relay messages from Lana, but they were usually badly garbled. I gathered that some of my Ixies were still alive, but were unable to penetrate the barrier that the rabbits had set up. They conveyed information about Zandar and about the activities of The Sisterhood, which the trees then repeated to me. Little of it made sense.

Mostly I waited.

I was counting clovers in the clearing, and looking for a four-leafed one, when I heard something large crashing through the underbrush. The trees confirmed that it was neither bear nor deer nor horse nor hobgoblin.

It was headed this way.

I ducked into the shadow of the dolmen and listened as voices began to cut through the racket the creature was making as it stumbled through the bushes.

"Mister Barkingthwaite!" the voice exclaimed. "How can one expect to achieve enlightenment without faith?"

"How can one achieve it by being gullible and chasing after every shadow?" another voice answered.

"It is not gullibility to take each claim seriously and investigate it on its own merits," the first voice protested. "That is the only way to establish truth."

"I thought it was enlightenment we sought," the second voice countered. "Now you're talking of truth?"

"Oh you infuriating man," the first voice groaned. "Truth is but a step toward enlightenment. If you don't believe any of this, then why ever did you come along?"

"What, and leave a lady to face the perils of these woods alone?"

"MISTER Barkingthwaite!" the first voice snapped. "Those outmoded attitudes are certainly one of the things our Society seeks to eradicate. I am perfectly capable of fending for myself."

"By Jove," the second voice declared as they reached the edge of the clearing. "There actually IS a ring of ancient stones here!"

"Precisely as le Gobelet described it," the first voice answered haughtily.

#furry #adventure #story #plot #cartoon #elf #skunk #tboay

[adleryoung]

"Do you wish for anything?" I asked Vernier.

"The only wish I can think of," she sighed, "is that I want you to succeed. Become King of the Elves and free yourself from this prison."

"I'll try my best to grant it," I declared, trying to hide my disappointment that she hadn't wished to stay here in the woods with me. "But I have a wish for you."

I handed her one of the Mumble-Mugs which I had made out of leaves and bark.

"Take this," I said. "It is part of a matching set. I have the other. Just pull the string taut, and we can talk to each other. Promise you'll call me every day."

"I will do my best," she nodded, tucking the mug into her skirt pocket.

There wasn't much to do after that, except send them off.

I ordered my remaining Ixies to escort the femmes and make sure they got safely past the rabbits.

"If we pass the blockade, we may not be able to return," the Ixies warned me.

"That's a risk we will have to take," I replied. "Make sure they get out safe. Especially Vernier. Find your way back here when you can."

"It might help if we had some sort of disguise," Vernier suggested.

"A simple Glamer should be enough to convince those dumb bunnies that you are members of their community," I theorized. "Petunia, you'll have to take off your rain ring until you are safely out of view."

"I don't need a disguise," Oak declared confidently. "I have a cloak of invisibility."

I fashioned basic rabbit ears for the other four.

"Are you sure this will work?" Gretchen asked uneasily.

"As long as you don't do anything weird," I informed her, "the rabbits shouldn't notice anything amiss."

"Well, I guess this is goodbye," Petunia muttered as they turned to enter the forest. "I had hoped to learn magic, but oh well."

"Thanks for everything," Chloe grinned, with a wave and a shake of her torso.

"I will call you on the Conversation Cup to let you know we got through safely," Vernier promised.

"See thee when we see thee," the Ixies declared with a snappy salute.

They plunged into the undergrowth and I listened until their footsteps faded away.

I was alone.

#furry #adventure #story #plot #cartoon #elf #witches #tboay

[adleryoung]

"Naturally," I smirked. "Uh, almost had you where exactly?"

"This whole Bumbling Simpleton routine must be just an act," Lana mused, ignoring my question. "No one that inept could execute the rare and dangerous Frustration Wiles so flawlessly! Even Sheila Na Gig couldn't do them, and she was the best. Yes, it's so obvious now. You've been playing Vulpitanian Frontgammon while I naively thought it was Antglade Checkers. You've been acting the fool to make your enemies underestimate you, and probe the true loyalty of your allies. The Sisterhood sent me to test your mettle, and the whole time it was I who was being tested! Meanwhile you've been destabilizing Faerie through your chaotic and unpredictable actions, making it ripe for conquest. Yes, it all makes sense now! You have secretly been a tactical GENIUS all along!"

"Buh?" I added sagely, feeling pretty sure this was another of Lana's cruel tricks.

"Elves don't lie," she muttered. "Why didn't I see it before? You didn't destroy Albric Tor on purpose, yet you took that bad situation and used it to your advantage. As they say, when Fuma gives you rotten peaches, make Persoc-Itoome. Obviously you're a master at adapting to unforeseen events."

"That's not really-" I started to say.

"You must be amazing at deception to fool one of The Sisterhood's best agents! I am ashamed to admit how blind I was to what was really going on! I'm just a novice compared to you."

"Don't you think you're laying it on a bit th-" I blurted.

"Never again shall I underestimate you," Lana interrupted. "Obviously your machinations are on a level far above my own meager understanding. You must truly possess the spirit of Irenaeus to defy every major power in Faerie, including The Sisterhood. Could you be the one foretold in the ancient prophecies? Could you really be the Niknak Padiwak??"

I was wondering if I had somehow broken Lana's brain, when suddenly she turned and knelt before me.

"I pledge myself anew to your service," she declared. "This isn't something The Sisterhood ordered me to do; this is me, my own choice, under my own volition. I am your Floozy, to use as you will. Command me, Your Highness, and I shall obey."

#furry #adventure #elves #story #plot #cartoon #skunk #sheep #tboay