|a wizard's track suit ✨ (shaungilmore) wrote in theconsolelog,|
@ 2018-05-30 20:24:00
|Entry tags:||shaun gilmore, vax'ildan|
Who: Gilmore and Vax
What: Vax's Lucky Feat providing him a most serendipitous arrival
Where: N'Sanity Beach
Warnings: None, will update as needed
As the circle finished etching into the sand, it joined countless other strange lines and symbols arrayed across the sunny beach. The man in purple took a step back, chin dipped thoughtfully into one hand, and wrinkled his brow in concentrated frustration as he surveyed his work. A ribbon of violet energy, translucent and replete with golden sparkles like a veil of gauze lifted off from the sand where it had finished drawing the circle at Gilmore's direction. It danced blithely around the sorcerer's head in anticipation of its next assignment received nothing.
Gilmore sifted through sands of his own, memories occluded by time and disuse. Were they right, these runes? They were familiar enough to believably been drawn from the pages of some dusty tome, and yet this was the sort of magic to which he was not wholly suited. His was a magic that played fast and loose, that warped the fabric of the Weave with whim and mood, and not the kind that slaved over painstakingly etched esoterica to copy the works of other magicians. Sorcerers imagined, wizards recreated.
"I suppose it is the best we're going to get," he admitted with a sigh and scratched the dark hair of his beard. Indeed, bereft of his library and not at all a practiced expert at planar conjurations, this was all he could do.
With the snap of his fingers, Gilmore reabsorbed the violet cantrip back into his hand. He stretched them before himself and pulled at the familiar thrumming of power in his blood, his birthright. The meticulous grooves in the sand came to life with a purple glow. He pulled again and this time began to twist, taking that thread of magic and warping it out of shape. Runes and circles manifested in the air around his hands as Gilmore used his metamagic to warp the very fabric of magic until it transformed from something he was capable into something he wanted to achieve.
The magic buckled as it transformed from the familiar teleportation that Gilmore often performed into a dimensional portal he had never attempted. The sorcerer grit his teeth and sneered, sweat breaking upon his brow as he kept it from unraveling with the sheer force of his will. His breath had stalled in his chest, veins stretching his skin from effort, and runes lit up across his body like glowing brands as a testament to his sorcerous origin. This was the height of arcane magic, an ability to grant whatever wish or manifest any intent, and it stretched even Shaun Gilmore to his absolute limit. By now, the light of the circles had risen and began to shimmer and dance like the skylights of the north. It swelled in might and began to gather into one central sphere. It pushed through time and space and like a cannonball tried to rip through this dimension into another and make a door he could walk through. It had to work, he'd make it.
"Come on, come on!" Gilmore hissed through his clenched teeth. He felt something give, the snapping of a taut string, and the force of it sent him into the sand. Something struck down from the sky as the light he'd summoned exploded with a great cacophony and obscured what it was. The sorcerer looked up from where he'd fallen, hand shielding his eyes from the fading violet nova.