"Fuma's Grace!" I exclaimed. (Patreon)

"What vision of loveliness is this I see before me?"

"You do realize that's wyrmweed, right?" Ethel declared, pointing gracefully at the weed I had been gnawing.  "Kids used to come out here and chew it because it makes you see things and have weird dreams.  Or does it not affect elves that way?"

"O tell me more," I squealed, enraptured by her musical voice.  "Your dulcet tones send thrills down my very spine!  To think that you have come here to visit me, your svelte and not at all stunted prince -"

"Okay, apparently it does," Ethel murmured.

"And has the beautiful one brought sandwiches?" I crooned.  "Oh truly you will not find elven gratitude to be lacking, my sweet!  I shall bestow upon you a gift worthy of your generosity.  Here, take this magickal shovel!  You will truly never find its like!  It's already housebroken and everything!"

"Um, no thanks," Ethel demurred.  "You keep it.  Listen, get rid of that weed and put the shovel away, and eat some sandwiches.  You need some real food in you.  I'm honestly starting to worry.  You're not even doing your goofy accent anymore."

With a little bit of persuasion she finally got me to sit down and eat a sandwich which seemed to consist of watercress spread thinly between two slices of dry, gritty bread.  It was wonderful.  I chewed and savored every bite, knowing that she had made it and brought it through the forest especially for me!

"Let's talk about what we're going to do concerning Jerry," Ethel said, after I had swallowed a few mouthfuls of sandwich.

"Oh he's taken care of, beloved," I grinned.  "There's a shrub army, you see, with a grudge against me.  But they can't approach through Faerie.  They have to come through your world.  And I've sent spies to convince them that I have interests in Percysthorpe, and that Jerry is there on a quest from me.  Which he is.  So they'll apprehend him and question him - none too gently!  And they'll surely get wind of the Duchess's activities while they are there, and be honor bound to stop her."

"The Duchess?" Ethel asked with some perplexity.  "You mean Catherine O'Daisies?  What's she got to do with this?"

"She's an elf too, didn't you know?" I giggled.  "She and her two odious son-nephews used to rule an Unseelie realm called the Gladsome Antglade, but my unfortunate mishap at Albric Tor left the Imperial throne temporarily vacant and allowed the Duchess to escape.  She's the enemy of all decent folk, and of me especially!  Her two louts are the ones who cut off my ability to scry outside this circle."

"I can see a few problems with your plan," Ethel stated, ticking off points on her fingers.  "First of all, shrubs can't fight, so what the hell are you talking about, a shrub army?  That sounds ridiculous and I think it's probably the wyrmweed talking.  But even assuming that somehow you are telling the truth -"

"Elves do not lie, my lady," I declared somberly.

"Even if you are telling the truth, how do we know for sure that the Duchess and the bushes won't join forces against their common enemy, which is YOU?  You're sending them together with a huge, baseless assumption about their motives."

"General Bonsai is honorable," I explained.  "There's no way he will side with the Duchess.  No way."

"Well, assuming that is correct, we still don't know who would prevail in a fight.  Against a bunch of shrubs, I'm guessing the Duchess will win easily.  And then when the dust has settled, she will know who sent them.  Thus far she seems to see you as a nuisance rather than a threat.  You say she sent lackeys to cut off your communication - but did they try to kill you?"

"I interrupted them before they had the chance!" I exclaimed proudly.  "I am svelte!"

"In other words, no.  She's only interested in keeping you contained, because you're not worth killing.  However, after a direct attack - even one as stupid as a shrub army - she may see you as a more palpable threat, and will answer with greater force.  You've put yourself in greater danger with this plan."

"Buh?" I added insightfully.

"Unless you can hit her while she's still reeling from the shrub attack.  You've got to hit hard, and repeatedly, never letting her regain her balance!  Let her know that you are a force to be reckoned with!"

"YES!" I shouted, spraying bits of sandwich.  By Fuma, this lowfolk wench was the most exciting femme I had ever met!  "I am the true heir of Irenaeus!  How does the Duchess of Daisies presume to face me in battle??  Her defeat is inevitable!"

"But to carry on an effective campaign, you'll need resources.  O'Daisies has mastered the power of industry.  With what can you counter her?"

"I've got an impregnable poisonous fortress!" I cried.  "A network of spies!  AND THIS SHOVEL!"

"Okay, so basically nothing," Ethel sighed.  "Well, wait .. you do have an ability to float around invisibly and peep on people's private lives.  It's not something I've ever heard of the Duchess doing, and apparently it bothered her enough to send someone to stop you.  So do you know what they did?  Is there any way to fix it?"

"They were trying to bury that loathsome object," I explained, pointing at the poppet in its hole.  "It's heavily warded so I cannot concentrate on it, nor apport it, and I can't reach outside the circle."

"Well I can," Ethel grunted as she stood up and strode toward the hole.

"NO, MY LOVE!" I screeched.  "TOUCH IT NOT!  It is warded by powerful magicks!  Who knows what foul fate awaits any who disturb it!"

"Magic is rubbish," Ethel scoffed as she picked up the poppet.  "Dumbest crap ever.  So this rope/hair/whatever doohickey is what's keeping you from scrying, eh?  How do I get rid of it?"

"It's heavily warded against -" I choked.

"I bet she didn't ward it against being exploded," Ethel said with a grim chuckle.  "A hefty charge of black powder would blow this thing to smithereens."

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