#odyssey

She considers. "The watcher. The goal isn't that time sensitive, and being followed is kinda weird."

"Like - why spy on US?"

He considers. “I don’t like it… but it’s not actually hurting us. Yet.” He allows. “And the treasure we’re after isn’t valuable… at least, in a commodity sense. Move along?”

She bites on her lower lip, and slowly nods.

She does not, however, put Flyswatter back - settling the halberd against her shoulder, instead.

Symon slides back into his place by her side, and starts forward again, this time on the alert. “Qetz, watch our backs.” He whispers to the skeletal ghost snake that loops around his neck.

Qetz does, and turns his head towards the direction of the target. His crystal tongue flickering, before watching their back

Dagmar paces herself - Quetz can watch their back. She'll watch over Symon.

The sensation of being watched from afar is ... unwelcome, but for now, they endure it.

Must needs.

The wooded area around them shifts to something wilder, less civilized. Trees don't just get taller, they grow out and over with limbs that hook at the air and each other.

As the branches loom and cast shadows over the silver, Symon feels reassured rather then intimidated. Ha! That’s all you got?

Indeed, it's a very ...comforting sort of thing to a sluagh. Grasping shadows cast by gnarled trees? Please sir may we have more!

Trees & a troll. All the shadows.

And yet that sensation of being watched persists... and yet...

(Perception plus kenning again for Symon)

It is struggling.. someone's tattle tale is having more trouble now and... it hits. Whoever is spying can't see in the Dark, and struggles with the shadows! Even the tattle tale doesn't let them have night vision!

If ever there was a reason for a sluagh to feel gloaty, this might be it.

He smirks and leans his steps more towards the shadowy parts of the paths.

The frustration of the caster ebbs through the cantrip

(Wits plus stealth Dif 7, and he can guide Dagmar through the shaows and LOSE the spell)

Symon takes his lady into the shadows and the barely visible silver... and a bit later, the cantrip? Is gone!

He relates as much to Dagmar, though she may guess from the lessening of his earlier tension.

She murmurs something about 'her guile,' with a smile.

And the two move on, a 'challenge' of sorts overcome.

As they hint at directions and poke around, they hear a cry for HELP "HELP" A voice says "I AM CRYING FOR HELP!"

Damn Paladin instincts. But of course, she listens for truth, also.

The voice IS crying for HELP. Now is the help needed? Not sure, but they ARE crying for it

A brow arcs in skepticism

So truth, there is a cry for help

"...Funny phrasing."

Still, she starts heading that way.

“Indeed.” He follows her at a half pace behind, staying just out of view behind his beloved hill of a troll.

And they come to a cabin.. the door is open, and they can see.. a tiny elf, not very large at all, shorter than the shortest boggan!

He gazes at a shelf with longing

Off the silver?

And THAT is where Dagmar stops...for the Cabin is not on the silver!

The first rule of trod walking remembered

A faint harrumph

A long-suffering sigh. "Every time."

"I need on the Shelf" The elf turns "I MUST get on my Shelf. HELP"

“It’s not even Thanksgiving yet.” Symon scolds. “Stay in your lane.”

a bit of a lie, the elf does not MUST get on there, but definitely wants to

The elf hurmphs "PREP time, sir. Some start as early as the last week of August"

"Those people should be ashamed of themselves."

"Look, if I don't get on the shelf of seeing, how am I to watch everything folks are doing in the spirit of good cheer?"

"Well, I'm not gonna help you be a narc."

"How do you think we GET a naughty list" It huffs "I'm crucial"

Symon eyes the cabin, how far away is the elf? Within stabbing distance for Flyswatter?

"No. Too many kids get on that list. I've met Santa, he's better'n you." A huff, and she starts to move on.