"Wash the new initiate's hair in the ceremonial basin," (Patreon)
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I commanded. "And use THIS!" I added as I whipped the bottle of shampoo out of my Elfintory.
"OOOHHH!" my followers gasped.
"There's also a bottle of fancy hoof polish here, and I see at least one of you who can use it."
"AAAHHH!" the sheep bleated with delight.
"The texture of this shampoo is exquisite," Oak murmured as she worked it into Rebecca's hair. "Such a silky smooth lather!"
"I feel prettier already," Rebecca spluttered.
"Keep your mouth closed, dear," Oak gently scolded her.
"This polish is great!" the sheep gushed. "It fills and seals the cracks, and gives such a glossy sheen!"
"Yes, excellent," I nodded approvingly. "How good are you lot at spreading information? We will need to lauch a propaganda campaign against the competing cults."
"Hairdressers and beauticians gossip constantly," Oak declared. "It will be a cinch."
"It's getting late," I observed. "You would all probably be safest if you spent the night here rather than stumbling home in the twilight with possibly hostile rabbits potentially waiting in ambush. I can magick up some shelters, and if you'll gather ingredients I can make a stew that will blow your mind. We shall discuss our plans, and after Rebecca's hair is washed I can style it."
To make a long story short, they set up camp and everything went well. While they were sleeping, I refined the transmogrification spell I had placed on Rebecca's father, and pondered my next moves. Having a group of loyal followers would help me in the short term, since they could bring me food and supplies .. but it wasn't going to free me from my imprisonment. Edessa's curse had been issued in the form of a Royal sentence for crimes she imagined I had committed that day (and perhaps I actually had..)
The only way to get out of it was by obtaining a Royal pardon, and the only person with that kind of authority was Edessa herself .. unless .. if I could be crowned King then I could pardon myself. But who would crown me? Was there any elfin nobility left? What about that skunk-femme changeling that Estmere was supposed to have married, but because of his preference for hooves he informally betrothed her to me instead? She must be wandering somewhere in the lowfolk world, since she didn't show up with the others when she was supposed to. I needed to find her .. but how?
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Are you lot getting bored? This story has been going on for a WHILE and there are a lot less of you listening now than when I started.
There are plenty of other things I could be doing, you know. It's been some time since I last checked on my beloved bride to see what she's up to, and my daughter has shacked up with some bum I don't entirely approve of.
If there are still some things you want to know, go ahead and ask, and I'll answer. Otherwise I'm ready to wrap up this tale in a timely fashion.