#odyssey

Prepared to leave the redcap and dart fast... the ground itself grabs him, as the Glome he did not know was there seizes him. "I serve the Sun Rising... and have found your prey, oh Giant" The grip is impossibly fast, impossibly strong... impossibly useless, for he is a sluagh. He slips free from stone grip like fog going through a brick arch.

/roll 7

Dagmar remembers... there was this time where...

The sluagh was a skilled liar and even with the soveriegn nearly tricked a housemaid into removing him from the warded area by oozing into a chair cushion due for a cleaning. Yet between the hisses and the eyerolls, one couldn't help but wonder if maybe he also was... doing something kind? He was a spindly bastard ,but one didn't deserve harsh punishment if one was trying to save children. She turned to the Varich and ... made a suggestion "My lady, we have the medicine, or what he claims is the medicine, may I dispose of it as your father will be here soon?"

Convinced that it was likely poison, the lady agreed, and she was ever too eager to please her father "Yes, but what of our prisoner? They don't take to the rack, slip right off. If I leave him here, father will have him... recycled"

"Exile, my lady?" She dared suggest though it was no punishment at all, no sluagh openly lived in Varich Domain if they could help it. _"I will escort him out"

"I do not trust him, but I suppose I need not" Her liege points at the sluagh "You will do as she says and never place hands on her while she escorts you, and never return. Violate either of these, and you will find you do not just whisper, you wheeze ... if you resist the power in this life, may it strike you in the future!"

As this memory washes over him, indeed, his breath catches in his throat in a death-rattling wheeze.

Her eyes flare, panicked.

The visions fade, only one would remember one part, and the other another, but the oath seems to allow them to share it

And Symon, in the here and now, coughs

Symon reaches for her hand, and squeezes it reassuringly, taking a slow breath to calm his lungs as the tide of memories washes over them, and... ends?

She starts to pulls her hand away, face twisted with guilt and worry.

Oh yes, ends

He holds up a finger, taking a moment until the wheeze passes. When he looks up at Dagmar, it's not with upset, or blame, or anything she may assume... but with love.

"...you take my breath away."

"I... I... I don't want to hurt you."

"Dagmar, you’re not hurting me. You’ve given me more than I ever thought I’d have. Yeah, this... curse, I guess... catches up to me sometimes, but I don’t care—I’d take every breathless moment if it meant staying with you. You make all of it worth it. Always."

He looks at her with unwavering devotion, hoping she can feel the weight of his words.

She reaches out, despite the anxiety still creasing her face.

He presses a hand against her cheek, for all that he has to go on tip-toes to do so. "Worth it."

"Plus... did you forget how it got me out of gym class every day?"

"You hated gym anyways." She huffs. And, in a quick decision, envelops him with her arms before planting a kiss on the top of his head.

He rests in her arms, it's kinda like hugging a damp gym bag.

A ghost snake tries not to get ill... this new arrangement is a bit much at times.

A shaky laugh, and she releases him. "Sorry."

"It's okay. If you want to feel bad, you can spend your life protecting me to make up for it." He straightens, and offers her his arm. "Onward?"

"This and the rest of them." She takes his arm. "Onwards."

ANd onwards they go, she taller, he softer spoken still... she more alert, he harder to find

He slides along, no longer leaving footprints, a counterpoint to her deepening treads.

In the distance, they can hear the surging of a river, as they were warned. They remember the snake in the grass

"I could try to negotiate a trade. Stall."

The trade stall appears instantly, it is made of cheap ply wood and colorful tent material, but the order was on rush so what do you want? Born of a misunderstanding, the merchant does not seem to care as he says "What can I get you?"

"We can offer it a trade - knowledge, power..."

Symon suddenly is deep in thought.

Snort. Dreaming, man.

"I don't really want to give up any of my magic, y'know? And it sounds like it'd be gone forever."

"You want magic?I got magic... Magic Johnson Action figure right here" He offers the old toy

"Yours for a song" He says

"No, thanks." Symon shakes his head, but it's clear he has something he is pondering.

"I mean, we could just hoestly try'n trade something, but he sounds greedy."

"You know how expensive it is to be summonable on the spot? I got costs. How about an old DVD of Magic Mic?"

Siiigh.

"I also got trick cards?" Hopeful