"Percy died?" (Patreon)

I asked, somewhat surprised.  "Years ago you say?  What happened?"

"Nothing happened," Ethel explained.  "He was just old."

"How did he escape the, um," I started to say.  "How long ago was that?"

"I dunno," Ethel shrugged.  "Percy le Gobelet died years ago, before I was even born."

"It's been that long??" I wailed, as the realization of how much time I had lost came crashing down on me.

"Hey," Ethel snapped.  "What are you implying?  You make it sound like the time before I was born was AGES ago.  I'm not that ancient!  I don't look ancient do I?"

"No wonder the Duchess is so far ahead of me!" I groaned.  "Everything has changed!  Nothing is like it was!"

"Oh hey," Ethel quipped, interrupting my woeful reverie.  "Speaking of the Duchess, are you serious about me being your General-In-Chief and War-Marshal?"

"Yes, of course."

"Well, this is one of the dumbest stories I've ever heard, but it's also the most interesting thing that's happened in a while, so I'll play along.  Assuming for the moment that there really is a shrub army, and it isn't some fable your ladybugs concocted to amuse themselves at your expense -"

"We do not lie about such things," Typantronn insisted haughtily.

"I believe your lord gave you a mission," Ethel reminded the Ixie.  "And as his second-in-command, I'm reminding you to be off and fulfill your duty.  DOUBLE TIME, SOLDIER!"

Typantronn reflexively saluted and buzzed away.

"Now then, Randall, if the reports are true then your objective must be to help the Duchess win the battle against the shrubs.  I can't believe I just said that.  Still, that's what you must do.  You've got to do it from a safe distance and in such a way that she does not win without suffering heavy losses.  Because you want her to be weakened from the encounter, unable to turn and attack you next.  Black powder isn't going to be any use to her against an army of trees, and it won't be any use to you either, so we have to come up with a different strategy."

I thought to myself that the powder might be far more useful than she thought, if it were properly steamed ... but I was too awestruck by Ethel's military Wiles to say anything.

"If you actually can do magic," she continued.  "Now would be the time to work up a spell involving axes, or .."

She suddenly turned and pointed at an eerily familiar-looking bird skulking behind one of the menhirs.

"A SPY IN OUR MIDST!" Ethel yelled accusingly.  "Is this one of the Vulpians you mentioned?"

"Vulpitanians," I corrected.  "And no, I doubt it, because it's not a fox and it isn't wearing the proper uniform."

"Is that Adler Young?" the bird asked, pointing at me.

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