"I can get people drunk at the tavern!" (Patreon)
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Rowan continued enthusiastically. "My uncle Ash taught me how to hustle mels for drinks back when he owned his place at - that's not important! The point is, I can get 'em plastered and convince them to sign up while they're too intoxicated to refuse. It worked great recruiting for the Duchess' private militia when Daddy's business was partnered with hers .. and if they are still hesitant I can just tell 'em who my Daddy is, and how rich he is - I mean WAS. How rich he was."
"All roight, all roight lass," Estvan interrupted. "We've had enough o' your blarney. Sure an' ye moight be an asset to our cause, but if ye want to be in on this, it's the truth ye've got to be tellin' us. Yer whole story from the beginnin."
"Okay, well, uh," Rowan hesitated. "I was born in a humble bower beside the lake. My father was a simple woodcutter and uh, my mother was attuned with fairy magic. One day a, um, pixie came up to her and it said 'Willow, that girl of yours will someday be queen of all of us, um, lowfolks and highfolks alike.' And my mother smugly kept this to herself for years, but then, see, there was this guy, he was like a, um, an Unseelie wizard who lived on the other side of the lake, and he guarded an enchanted treasure, and my mother said to me, she said -"
"BEGORRAH," Estvan barked. "Just stop, lass, ere ye embarrass us all to death."
"Poor thing," I sighed. "You must be under extreme duress to be telling such outrageous lies. If you're in trouble, I will do anything in my power to help you. But you've got to tell us the truth."
"Aye, lass, the truth an' no more o' yer fantastical fables at all, at all."
"All right," Rowan sighed. "I'll come clean. My father is Walnut Marten, and he is fabulously wealthy. He started out selling lumber. He had some sort of uncanny connection with the forest; he knew where the best wood was, when to cut and when to wait. Nobody could compete with him. He was the most successful lumbermel in the industry. He invested his profits into buying more woodland. Then he formed a partnership with O'Daisies and opened a chain of lumberyards and tool shops. The family took a hit when all of the trees disappeared and the O'Daisies absconded, but Daddy quickly obtained all of the resources they had abandoned, and came back bigger and more successful than ever. I think he actually planned it that way, somehow using the trees against Duchess Catherine."
"If your family is so prosperous, what are you doing out here?" I asked, suspiciously.
"I grew up bored and over-sheltered in the mansion. I wanted to get out and see the world and do things for myself. I snuck out to work in Uncle Ash's tavern, and it was there that I fell into the world's oldest profession .."
"Shadow puppet shows," Rowan choked after a reluctant pause.
"Cushlamochree," Estvan whispered. "Ye poor, poor girl. Was there no honest Floozy work for ye at all at all?"
"The local Floozies wouldn't tolerate me competing in what they considered to be a closed market," Rowan muttered sadly. "I thought the puppets were fun at first, and I .. Great Auk .. I had .. a natural talent for the work."
"You needn't tell us any more about that if you don't want to," I assured her, soothingly.
"Thanks," Rowan sniffed. "Of course my parents were outraged when they found out. Ash's place was burned to the ground and I don't even know what happened to him. They kicked me out of the house until I could get a 'real job' and show them I was a responsible adult."
"The dastardly brutes!" I exclaimed.
"No, no, they're not heartless," Rowan explained. "Every few weeks a courier tracks me down and gives me a little bit of money so I won't starve .. but it's humiliating! I want to be able to show them that I can stand on my own feet! I want to prove I'm worthy of being a Marten! That's why I came out here, hoping to get a wish from the magical elf."
"Why lie about your circumstances though?" I asked.
"I thought if you knew I was rich you wouldn't be willing to grant my wish."
"Gentlemen, a word," Sam whispered. "Odd it is about the shadow puppets. That kind of girl, I did not think she was. But even more curious, the part about her father is. The Voice of the Forest he seems to have, yet speak the Voice of the Forest lowfolk cannot. Involved, an elf must be."
"Sure, tis strange," Estvan affirmed.
"Very unwise it is," Sam continued in a louder voice, "The Duchess of Daisies to double-cross. Protection you will need; the kind of protection that from a personal army comes! The kind of army that trying to raise Adl - er, Lord Randall is!"
Merciful Fuma! I needed to distract Rowan from noticing Sam's awkward slip-up, and also intensify the persuasiveness of his statement! Furthermore, I needed to ensure that this lowfolk femme would be in my thrall, and not the other way around! She was pretty, but she did shadow puppets .. and besides, I had learned my lesson from Ethel! Never again would I let a lowfolk femme steal my heart, only to trample it into the dust like a piece of discarded rubbish! I needed to remember the lessons of Rederbrand and Halewynn and Sir John Hilsinger: Lowfolk femmes could be deadly if not handled correctly!
"I'm prepared to appoint you to a high rank in my organization," I stated as I radiated my best Wiles. "You'll have to follow orders, and there's no pay as of yet .. but you do get the prestige of being one of my top officers, and it comes with a nifty uniform."
"Oooh golly, Lord Rando," Rowan sighed dreamily. "Of course I'll work for you, if it means I can get back in my parents' good graces. I'll go to the taverns and recruit drunkards for your army, and .. and .. for you I'll even do a puppet show to help persuade them!"
Wow! The Wiles were working great! I concentrated and silently composed a Gramarye to transform Rowan's clothes into a uniform - taking care not to repeat the silly mistakes I had made previously with Ethel and PJ.
"I LOVE IT!" Rowan squealed as she looked down at her new clothes. "So classy! It'll be easy swaying the masses in this outfit!"