#rutgers

"The rock" Masey hisses

She dances "if stories are believed, it was once a glade stone, but a sidhe actually used it for a throne... no one knows who or where the throne was taken and set up. But it's just flat chunk in the ground now, very smooth."

A glance at the satyr.

"It's a place to look."

"Grass, I thank you."

"I know the way" Masey assures "Oh when this is done I am going to do so many things ot you, you goddess of might you... "

That purple blush DOES go all the way down!

And the satyr is already moving ahead, towards the rock...

the grass whisper "Most welcome, we are grass, the army of blades, they can mow us, they can never conquer!"

Dagmar stalks after Masey, steady but inevitable.

Fortunately keen troll senses keeep track of the fast moving horned nymph of a satyress. And she catches up as they close on a clearing. The veil is so thin here, past lives threaten to overwhelm if one doesn't brace

Flashes - Bonnie Blue, Titanya, the Revolutionary, the Mother...

Then she finds her center. There they are, five folks in robes, kithain by the feel of them, and Belinda, bound and gagged, writhing, as they lay her on what looks like nothing special, a bit of rocky ground. Yet in the near dreaming, there is an image of a boulder that was, that reminds her far too much of Klump's anchor

One of her past lives whispers that this is a sacrifice... as if she needed the warning

Chimerical daggers shine, and one of the kidnappers speaks "A daughter of Eve, dreams this night. Glamour is free...."

The others chant "Free for the taking"

"There is no right to dream, this night, there is only right to feast! '

"Shall we take her faith?" the priest asks "Destroy her hope? Stir her to mindless rage?"

(Dex plus stealth)

/roll 5

Dagmar pulls Flyswatter from her back.

It's a good thing, for while the grass loves her, some treacherous leaves betray her

"Intruder" A hiss..

"How about the five of you fuck all the way off?" She bares her teeth. Or grins. Maybe both.

"You don't know why you're here..." the priest gestures...

(WP roll for our troll)

She... why is she here? Where is she.. what's... who..

She adjusts her grip on the halberd, feeling off-balance and uncertain.

in the time of her confusion, another bnk is muttered, and vines tie her up.

She might be confused, but she does not LIKE that! A roar of protest and she fights the vines.

"We'll have to ravage quickly.."

"Stupid bitch isnt she? Couldnt' even put up a fight, some Gwydion"

(New WP check, Gwydion flaw, Dif 5)

/roll 6

Stupid bitch is also stupid strong. Can the vines really hold her?

They're starting to tear... and then... they come loose entirely as they catch fire, not burning her, just the vines!

Masey apparently knows some pyretics

Belinda was screaming as they began the ravaging.. they'd just started

Whatever haze she has - whatever she's forgotten - the fae before her imprisoned her and insulted her. She rushes at them!

Before Darkness can form about one, she brings a blow to bear. The 'priest' isn't the closest so she settles for one big one near and in robes. The Redcap is revealed as she tears a chunk from his flesh and causes the robe to tear. He shouldn't have called her a stupid bitch

Dagmar is capable of a certain blunt brutality - no elegant or flashy sidhe this Gwydion, but a Beast of muscle and sinew and brute force.

A sluagh, she backs in panic in her robes, and tries a spell... "A hex a curse, and even worse..."

Halloween has a certain kind of monster which haunts films - persistent, silent, implacable. Because Dagmar just keeps coming at the sluagh.

The sluagh, if she had time for the full bunk, might indeed Foul FOrtunte Dagmar, but what more can she take from the troll? Home? FRIENDS? The beast that is before has dealt with loss to both and more. She has had little her whole life, and every time she gains, EVERY TIME, the world threatens to take what is hers again.

We'll never know, the foul fortune doesn't get off , might is faster than bunk

A grunt as the sluagh collapses beneath her blows. How Belinda feels about this, what Masey is up to are both outside of her narrow scope right now.

There's a scream from another cultist, as the satyress seems to surround her long locks on fire, and then uses it like a burning whip! It lashes the face of whoever is behind that robe, "These are not the wild ways! Thsi is selfishiness, this is not a proper hunt ! Burn"

This is not the Wyld, no. The Beast knows this - Winter may be dark, but it is not Shadow.