#kc_necropolis

"Shit." Dagmar can't!

"Ishh uhhay..." Symon tries to reassure her - but it's illegible with his tongue busy holding the wheel steady.

And the thallian passes out, the darkness ends...

"Hell."

How to stop this damn car? Should wind down now that the driver is out right?

Dagmar reaches through the hole to yank the emergency break.

HEY, that works!

SCREEECH goes the brake

YURP goes Bilbo

GAH, goes Symon's now strained tongue

"Gah." Symon unwinds his tongue and reels it back in. "Now what? I guess we could hand him over to the Beaumayn we need to see. Though... nah, we'd have to haul him all the way along with us."

Symon is busily checking the man's pockets.

Symon finds a DL, a wad of cash, a discount for Coffee at a strip club

She frowns. "Flyswatter's chimerical."

Pockets accomplished, he feels for gas canisters, looking for what he might be able to find where the spray came out.

"Yeah. He could have killed us. At best, he was gonna rob us blind."

Searching finds the canisters... AND

"I can finish him off, I mean." Her tone is heavy but resigned.

"Chimerically."

a glove box full of dross and even more money. and a noterized percentage... with a mention of 'pay the snakes 15% or they'l cut your balls off'

He hesitates, then offers, "We really should turn him into the local lord. They might want to twist a few joints and find out if he has friends... hello..."

Trailing off as he reads the paper from the glove box, then hands it back to Dagmar...

"Do we even know the local lord? What if the Snakes rule here?"

Symon nods slowly... and unlocks the car doors. Sliding out the driver's side, he reaches back in, and with a smooth motion - he knows exactly where to cut, and it's not hard on an unconscious body, his little chimerical knife has cut the Thallain's throat. He looks away after wiping it clean on the man's shirt.

Dagmar grimaces. "He'll forget, and won't be getting others. C"mon, let's go."

And slowly the creature's nightmare soul fades

"Yeah. Maybe walking's not so bad." He shrugs as he joins Dagmar.

"Sorry."

They actually made it most of the way... they can smell the docks

A thin smile as he pats a rather padded pocket. "Don't be, I can't wait to see what a Dairreann might pay for this poison gas."

"Ha. And hey, some dross."

"Oh, yeah." He hands the dross over to Dagmar. "Is the little mutt alright?"

Bilbo wags , that was exciting