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"Here you go," (Patreon)

Published:
2022-12-22 03:49:31
Imported:
2023-10

Content

you say, as you hand the Guest Narrator a reheated mug of seasonal beverage.  "One warm and most definitely vegan drink."

"Please, drink deeply. It was made with you in mind. You deserve something special."

"You're doing such a good job."


Thanks, man.  Mmmm, this is like totes delish.  Do I detect a note of nutmeg?  Clove?  Bitter almond?  Why are you all staring at me like that?  If you're thirsty, I'll wait while you get a drink too.  No?  Okay, then.  Now that I'm mondo refreshed, like fo' shizzle and whatnot, let's continue with the story.

Next, Adler says:

. . .


"Since Rebecca has already told you every conceivable thing about me," I grumbled, "you probably know that I'm trying to start a loose organization of followers.  You can think of it as a cult, but let me make it clear that you should worship Fuma, not me."


"My Lord," Rebecca asked meekly.  "Did I do something wrong?"

I let out a weary sigh.  Seeing the crestfallen expression on the rabbit femme's face troubled me more than it should.  I suddenly realized that after spending so much time time convincing Rebecca of the virtues of seelieness, I couldn't be seen chiding my first official follower in front of her friends for being too honest.  I needed to try a different approach.

"Technically no, you did nothing wrong," I admitted.  "But technical and elfly are rarely ever the same!  Subtlety and intuition are important!  However, there's no way you could have known that.  Let's just call this a learning experience and add it to the next lesson.  I need to remember that not everyone is a mind-reader."

"Ooooh!" the vixen squealed.  "Are we really going to learn how to read minds?"

I gritted my teeth and tried to remain calm.  Rebecca told all of these lowfolk that I was a benevolent and infinitely patient entity.  Now I was obligated to play the part, and that meant not getting so easily frustrated.  I would have to exude confidence and control while maintaining an even-tempered composure.  I tried to imagine how I would conduct this meeting if Vernier was one of the witches.

"Save your questions til the end," I said, calmly raising my finger for emphasis.  "Now then, to continue:  This so-called 'cult' is in its beginning stages, and that presents all of you with a unique opportunity.  You could earn the prestige of becoming my first, original group of apostles, going out into the world and spreading tales of my deeds and doing good works in my name."

"Like the Blessed Baby Bunny?" Mother Didelphis coughed.  "We came here to get away from that, dearie."

"I give out better prizes," I bluffed, based on the little that Rebecca had told me of their absurd lowfolk religion.  "My most dedicated followers can earn fabulous rewards, and you don't have to wait til the afterlife to get them.  I am offering wealth, beauty, long life, ancient knowledge, wish fulfillment (within reason), and magick, (REAL magick!) as well as a greater purpose in life.  I don't yet know any of you as well as I know Rebecca, but I can see that like her, you are all outcasts and outsiders in society.  You wanted to pursue witchcraft as a means of getting revenge against that society for one reason or another.  But think about all the stories of wicked witches; how do they usually end?  It never goes well for the witch.  That's the consequence of being Unseelie, or as you call it, evil.  In my service, you will have the opportunity to take all that negative energy and turn it into something positive.  Instead of being hated  for your differences, you will be celebrated, perhaps even loved for them!  Doesn't that sound grand?"

. . .


Man, it must be a lot later than I thought.  Despite the thrilling action of the story, I'm getting so drowsy I can hardly keep my eyes open.  I think I -

The guest narrator suddenly slumps unconscious in his chair.

"Quickly!" you exclaim.  "Get him into the pook-proof sack!"

"Are we sure this is Adler?" another of your shameless conspirators asks.  "He passed out awfully fast.  Maybe just check under his hood to be sure."

"No time.  It has to be Adler.  Who else could it be?  Let's get him to the meeting place.  If we hurry we can just make the deadline."

And so the craven, ungrateful, backstabbing listeners carry their load out into the night.

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Comments

Anonymous

*The story room feels sad and empty, the echos of betrayal still lingering in the air. Was it worth it? Was it worth selling out the elf that has poured his soul out to you for years? Was it worth- Suddenly the door opens and Adler walks in with surprisingly high spirits. He greets his loyal listeners and shares his story. He had a shockingly easy time evading the Kringle and his agents this year, in fact it's the first time in a long time that he actually had a pleasant December. It was the strangest thing, everywhere he went he could tell he was being followed. It's like the Kringle's agents knew exactly where he was at all times. Well, Adler didn't want to pook away unless he was truly corned, so he tried loosing them at a train station. He took his tie and hat off in the restroom so he could wash his face and someone must have taken them by accident because what he came back to looked similar but was definitely different than what he had. Also, someone named "Stuart" wrote his name inside the hat. After that, for some inexplicable reason, the agents tailing him were gone and he didn't have any close encounters for the entire month. It's like they were chasing the wrong person the whole time. He was able to check into a nice hotel, order room service, and laugh at terrible Christmas movies on lowfolk television. Adler actually enjoyed himself! Since the danger is over he decided to come back before January. Give his helper a break. Speaking of which, where did his helper go? Adler scoffs in annoyance to see that his helper left early. Wow, what a lazy flake, and he said he was Adler's biggest fan too. Eugh! He even spilled coffee on the book! Well, see if Adler ever asks him for help again. Infact, Adler's crossing that guy's name off the guest list. He's banned from the weekly story time. Were did he leave off? Obviously the page with the most coffee stains on it... *Ahem* . . . >Adler: And it goes beyond just getting better prizes. Keep in mind that when you say "doing good deeds" this doesn't mean exactly what the witches think it means. What Fuma considers good an evil is drastically different from what this Cosmic Ram and Baby Bunny consider good and evil. (Though you have a sneaking suspicion that might be the result of certain people putting words in the Ram's mouth to suit their own ends as lowfolk are want to do. What little Rebecca told you about the Cosmic Ram in his Old Testament phase made him sound pretty rad. It might be worth looking into for scholarly purposes.) Lady Fuma is a goddess of Love and War, Passion and Fury, and she has consistently remained so. She never went through any paradigm shifts. This also means that many things the Blessed Ram/Bunny declares to be taboo are not in Fuma's eyes. Parties, revelries, and fun are not only tolerated but encouraged. If the witches want to wear all black and dress like a character from a children's book, they are free to do so. They can even dance naked in the rain if they really want to, though that sounds like a sure fire way to catch a cold to you. >Witches: You mutter unsure amongst yourselves. That does sound better than you thought it would, but you really had your hearts set on selling your souls to a primeval chaos demon, not a goddess. It's the principal of the thing. >Rebecca: You jump in to try and help Adler. Fuma may not be evil, but she's still an ancient pagan deity that predates lowfolk civilization. Paganism is still very witchy. Fuma's also really cool, you spoke to her in a vision. >Witches: You're not sure... What was the raccoon monster saying about being unseelie. >Adler: Alright, time for your ace in hole. The witches want to learn about being unseelie from the Raccoon Monster, then let them. You tell the witches to wait a moment and you'll wake her up. You put on another brief magic show as you conjure up a bucket of water and dump it on Burnside. >Burnside: Bleh! What is it? >Adler: Well, you tried, but the witches seem dead set on being unseelie. Instruct Burnside to tell the coven exactly how she would go about being unseelie. >Burnside: With pleasure! You giddily march over to the witches and being their first lesson. First of all they want to always make sure they have a sharp knife on hand, and then . . . >Several minutes later. >Mother Didelphis has fainted, the duck is curled up in the fetal position and hopelessly weeping, Rebecca is desperately covering her ears to block it out, and the vixen is puking in a bush. >Burside: And once you burrow into his chest cavity, if you grab onto the inside of his rib-cage, he can't pull you out. >Mouse/Bear: Dude, that is messed up. >Adler: Well, it seems Burnside's lesson in unseeliness didn't go over so well. She is turning out to be shockingly useful.