May 16, 2022 8:37 pm
Presto accepts the hug from Varla, even if it feels a little awkward. It had been a long time since the two had seen each other, and while they left on good terms, it was clear that there was still something between them, even at the end. He was surprised at the fluttering feeling in his stomach when she hugged him. He had thought that part of his life was gone, until now.
He clears his throat. "Uh...yeah. Yeah, I know what we need to do next. Come inside, let's take a rest."
As the others set their gear down, Presto stands next to a well-thumbed tome and lights a candle. He manipulates a few common reagents next to him and begins to chant. Some time later, a shimmering force appears nearby to help his friends find a comfortable chair and retrieve them food or drinks. While they get settled, he asks for the hand of the orc commander. He places it inside a circle lined with runic symbols and covered with soot, char, chipped and warped stone, and other damage.
After setting out a few candles and resting for a moment himself (he's taken a taste to expensive whiskey, though "expensive" doesn't mean much to a master of conjuration magic), he places the hand inside the circle. Then he grabs a velvet bag off a wall of reagents and reaches inside. He casts a handful of glittering red powder over the circle and it hangs in the air in the vague shape of a cube before disappearing from view.
A voice sounds in his head "A powerful spell enables a powerful spell, but you may be manipulating forces that should be left alone, my boy..." Presto ignores it, and the as he begins his casting, the candles dim. Sparks ignite off the sharp corners of furniture and wind from nowhere whips around the arcane lab. The fire in the hearth roars, casting everyone into harsh shadow. Presto's voice is matched with another that no one but him has heard, and then usually only within his head as the words of the spell echo and deepen, as if coming from a much larger creature.
In the circle, the withered and pale hand plumps and changes shape as flesh regrows from it. It forms a torso from which legs are grown, another arm, a head. The more perceptive observer would note that the limbs are significantly shorter than the orc commander's. Once Presto finishes his casting, the torrent of magical energy dies down, the wind disappears, and the lights in the room come back up. All is as it was before, except for a little halfling lying on the floor, nude except for his expansive body hair. Presto sits back in a wooden chair, exhausted.
He clears his throat. "Uh...yeah. Yeah, I know what we need to do next. Come inside, let's take a rest."
As the others set their gear down, Presto stands next to a well-thumbed tome and lights a candle. He manipulates a few common reagents next to him and begins to chant. Some time later, a shimmering force appears nearby to help his friends find a comfortable chair and retrieve them food or drinks. While they get settled, he asks for the hand of the orc commander. He places it inside a circle lined with runic symbols and covered with soot, char, chipped and warped stone, and other damage.
After setting out a few candles and resting for a moment himself (he's taken a taste to expensive whiskey, though "expensive" doesn't mean much to a master of conjuration magic), he places the hand inside the circle. Then he grabs a velvet bag off a wall of reagents and reaches inside. He casts a handful of glittering red powder over the circle and it hangs in the air in the vague shape of a cube before disappearing from view.
A voice sounds in his head "A powerful spell enables a powerful spell, but you may be manipulating forces that should be left alone, my boy..." Presto ignores it, and the as he begins his casting, the candles dim. Sparks ignite off the sharp corners of furniture and wind from nowhere whips around the arcane lab. The fire in the hearth roars, casting everyone into harsh shadow. Presto's voice is matched with another that no one but him has heard, and then usually only within his head as the words of the spell echo and deepen, as if coming from a much larger creature.
In the circle, the withered and pale hand plumps and changes shape as flesh regrows from it. It forms a torso from which legs are grown, another arm, a head. The more perceptive observer would note that the limbs are significantly shorter than the orc commander's. Once Presto finishes his casting, the torrent of magical energy dies down, the wind disappears, and the lights in the room come back up. All is as it was before, except for a little halfling lying on the floor, nude except for his expansive body hair. Presto sits back in a wooden chair, exhausted.
OOC:
1 cast of Unseen Servants (ritual), 1 cast of Forcecage around the hand, 1 cast of Wish (to simulate the spell Reincarnate). The orc has unfortunately landed himself a hairy little stout halfling body.Last edited May 16, 2022 8:48 pm
Rolls
d100 - (d100)
(76) = 76
