A disturbance in the weave snapped Vorcet back to reality, with a dizzying rush the world came back into focus. How long had he been out this time? Vorcet lookad at his hands which had been frozen in a pose of meditation for gods knew how long. Dust covered the backs of his hands and a spider web hung from the sleeve of his robe. Vorcet stretched his arms and legs out gingerly, getting the long dead muscles back into working order. Finally he stood and slipped into trance to search for the disturbance that had brought him out of his restorative meditation.
To the west of his house in torregiano something was different. Vorcet knew what it was. Izuna had been found and neutralized, the book of evil that had corrupted his psyche taken from him. The curse on that forsaken island had fed from that book and had protected it from Vorcet's attempts to retrieve it. Vorcet could feel the book leaving the island. Vorcet slipped out of trance for a moment and openned a scrying window to the location of the book. The window openned to the Market Square pub in westbridge and a few adventurers gathered around a table sharing drinks.
Vorcet focused in on the one the book in question now sat in front of. He was a tall human wearing the robes common among those that trained in the newly established Monk guilds in New Thalos. Well worn sandals peek out from beneath the hem of his robes. The man's focus apears to only be partly on the celebratory mood of his companions as it continually slips back to the book now in his posession.
Sentient objects rarely make good companions as they tend to have goals of their own in mind for their owners, Vorcet needed to warn that monk about what he now found himself the owner of.
Vorcet shook teh dust from his robe which was wrinkled from being in the same position for so long. He sighed and walked through the house to his personal suite of rooms and pulled a new robe from the wardrobe in the corner. He shrugged out of the old one and slipped the new one on and fastened his belt about his waist. Whips in place, and spell components stored about his person he felt almost human again. He called in the doorway to his magically created pocket of reality where he stored his important objects. He stepped into the small work room and pulled a key off the chain around his neck. He unlocked a cabinet and pulled the small gem out and inspected it closely. The dull glow of the facets was enough to tell him that he had stored enough energy to remain concious for a good amount of time. Vorcet carefully placed the phylactery back on the shelf and closed the cabinet doors. After locking the cabinet and replacing the key around his neck, Vorcet exited his room and made the door dissapear once more.
Vorcet stepepd out into the garden behind the house and to the circle of runes and chanted the words that would take him to a secluded location jsut outside the town of westbridge. After the lurch of shifting location was over, Vorcet pulled his hood up over his head and set about hunting down the new owner of that cursed spellbook.
