#dreaming

As they travel away from the Broomery, Zara may practice on her broom. She dare not fly too high, but stays directly over the trod. Oh what a nice effect, rather than the whoosh some brooms do, this has a more diffuse sound, and that one a quiet one.. one can almost imagine there might be a rider in the distance.

Zane has, perhaps, never seen the sluagh gleeful, but that is very much the most appropriate word for her mood.

If she focuses her will, she can even lay down some fog! But alas "We need to see the trod, my love"

That from Earl, of course

Alas!

Zane looks stunned, and grins, but, perhaps in a display of wisdom, does not actually comment on the 'nigh giddy' nature of the witch in question.

They go deeper, and change more, Zara's senses, already keen, intensify.

Past lives flow in like a river rising. She does not see it as a crash or intrusion, her years of practice in the Dreaming on and off, her acceptance of many views and discipline all work to let it mingle with less difficulty than soem would have.

Earl once more resumes that gigantic titan of a figfure, antlers bursting at full, a guardian dream.

And Zane looks like a Greek demi god born of Pan or Dionysius, the smell of wine mixes with his musk, but so to does his very breath become a melody even as he inhales and exhales. He inspires passions in his wake, though what form those passions take vary depending on the person. Dangerously distracting, but again the discipline of troll and sluagh serve them well.

Zara is now truly silent - even whispering risks injury, as past has proven.

Oh yes, and like the proverbial cat, she is both solid and liquid, depending on what surface she presses again, and at times, she's really more like pale mist before reforming a bit ahead, behind, or to the side as the writhing nightmare she is. Sometimes, the troll's hand might brush against her, if she allows. Even troll keen senses are hard pressed to find her now.

As for Zane, he says "Would that we had taken more available flesh along this journey. I have such energy to burn off here"

He eyes the troll with appreciation, and yes, searches for the sluagh too though neither is a bastian of beauty, the are at least here.

Well, Zara still seems to find her Earl handsome - the mist lovingly curls against his cheek, dark eyes seek him often.

At times the great titan threatens to breath her in, but adoration is in Earl's eyes. To Zane he says "Stay your lust for later, Zankatyhos" His voice is a low rumble so not to damage his lady's ears, so the satyr must strain to hear "if we have the trod to the end of our journey it will be a peaceful outing indeed"

Zane nods at that odd name varation like it catches him not by surprise at all.

"Very well' he says trotting along but from what we are told, that peace is not likely to last" The wizard says. Here he remembers powers lost. Here Zankatyhos hums with arcane energies

And just so, Zara sees the bandits in the distance. On flame breathing horses, the highwaywmen block the trod , taking up it's width

She plucks at her hunter's arm, directing his attention.

"Lovely" A growl under his breath "Not sure we can sneak around that. Well, maybe you could,my dear. We may have to fight"

Gesture - a rearing horse? Flight?

He ponders "We could fly over them but too high and the trod's protection leaves us. Also, I imagine they have weapons for range" He says

Zane says "Fuddle them to see us among them? See how they react?"

Horse. Rear. Horse run! Well, hand miming a horse.

"Out run them?" Earl says "Forgive me love, I am feeling dense."

ANd then Zane says "Behold.. papyrus... and a quill with ink. Invented by the greeks, of course" He offers it

"It was not" Earl says

Zane looks smug

"SCARE the horses!"

The guys read it, and both facepalm

And Zane casts..."He's mad that trusts in the tameness of a wolf, a
horse's health, a boy's love, or a whore's oath."

the raw panic sent out strikes the steeds, not their riders, but the results are amazing. The horses break into blind panic!

And the horses scatter, their riders are trying NOT to ride off the trod...

and they pound and ride far.. far away

Zane says "Don't tell Dame Dagmar I did that. She always a bit touchy about dumb animals paying for their owners folly"

Zara mines a key locking up her mouth

"Thank you" the satyr says, confident in his power here, but still wise enough to fear the Hammerstrike's disapproval

Highwaymen dispersed, Zara proceeds

Indeed, the clear trod is quiet, if a bit too sun lit for a sluagh's taste. Still.. progress does well, and Hellios' chariot above has the horses of the sun on course. Zane waves to it as if he knows the guy. Which, perhaps? he did in another life

Indeed, Helios is.... difficult, but she manages.

As they continue, the trod gets closer to the river, and the river roars a bit, not waterfall level, but the rapids are white.

But this is... not the right spot, no, two rivers must cross...

So they continue, it feels like it might take days, though time in the dreaming is fickle. Then a carriage approaches

The carriage hisses and sputters, a steampunk horseless thing, but it does have a driver "Ho, strangers." The banner of House Dougal flutters down

Zara skirts behind Earl and cautiously eyes the driver.

"YOu wish a ride? We can get you where you need to go much quicker... trods aren't safe" Says the Driver, a nocker

Zara shakes her head.

"Furk... what about you, Sir Knight?"

"I'm with the lady" Earl says.