Atlantic Roleplay Community Boards

[Bailos]

---

Stepping through a moongate, Bailos comes out into the lush lands of Ilshenar. Walking slowly down a hill, he eventually removes his cloak and carries it on his arm, warmed by the midday sun. Passing the gypsy camp and going through the savage swamps with Blackthorne's Ilshenar castle looming in the distance and golems clanking about, he continues his journey.....Arriving finally at a non-descript shrine tucked away in the corner of a valley, away from most eyes, Bailos settles in laying his cloak on the floor.

Slowly scanning the small temple he steps lightly towards the sanctuary of the long forgotten place...Vines have been growing through the walls, slowly tearing the structure down as nature intended, for probably hundreds of years. Placing a hand on the aged altar, Bailos reaches in to his rucksack for a large, leatherbound and obviously ancient book, and sets it down roughly. The book flips open to a random page as it lands, and Bailos drops his other things, and starts to read.

Time slowly passes by, midday turns to evening, and the evening fades to dusk.

Time passes..........

Late that night, with a campfire built on the floor, kept burning with magic, Bailos sit on the altar, with the book next to him, shut tightly. Apparently in a state of meditation, his skin appears cold and clamy. In a sort of waking dream, his mind is jumping from one thing to the next in a sort of abstract world created by his psyche......He attempts to control it, to guide it's archaic path......

Wincing with every failure, his subconscious continues to dart, exploring his soul, even probing the depths of the well from which he draws his power..

There it is! There's the spot! His mind, while exploring the plane from which his power comes, finally finds the right combination of reason, creativity, discipline and control to achieve a semblance of direction.

As quickly as he finds the spot, as if someone physically tore him away, his mind leaves the plane, snapped back to Bailos' body

In a shock, his eyelids explode open and there he sits, gasping for breath and shivering from his 'trip'. Calming himself down, he settles down off the altar and huddles near the fire. Picking up his cloak he wraps it around himself until he warms up.

Laying the cloak back down, he spreads it over the floor, as a makeshift matress. Mumbling some arcane words, he creates himself some food. Pulling a small jug of water from his pack, he begins to eat, his mind and body recovering from the nights expanding trip

He would try again in the morning....he was getting close