Urgan listens to Shamal's interpretation of the wishes, and wonders: is this his belief? or is it an interpretation he places on all the world? ad what would be the difference between these two? His words, however, are more straightforward: "I am pleased that our wishes have cohered in a way that brings us together."
Urgan has so far avoided any injury, but he is not one to begrudge relief to his colleagues. He explains what he hads been able to deduce of the dracolich-thing, but he does not speculate further on the way for them to proceed. He offers some rations to their guide, and drinks soe water. He then finds a place where he can cast a ritual.
While others are resting, he casts a spell. He opens his book in front of him, and lights some incense in a small bowl in the rocky floor. And then he reads. The words of the Find Familiar spell are different for every caster. For some this is routine, something that is untaxing and common place. Urgan has never found it so. for him, he describes a path... a path that he travels in his mind along dark corridors (not unlike the ones he finds himself in), with the stuff of stars and imagination and eggshells lining the walls. The path is a long and circuitous one, a labyrinth that must be traversed with deliberate and specific intention. And Urgan's intention is clear... he wants to bring Scamp back.
The syllables that come from his mouth are uninterpretable to his companions (indeed even to himself): closed single sounds that make him ound like he is choking. "Kak. Tep. Sem. Rax." And so forth for the best part of half an hour. Each syllable marking a direction and turn he must take in his mind's eye.
Other celestial spirits call out to him, some by name. One, he thinks he recognizes -- an owl he had summoned when he was first learning this spell, only to cast it aside for a creature with a more personal connection. Scamp had been with him for several years, and he had not needed to recall him in this way more than once before. Normally, Scamp was wary of danger, and life for them in the keep where Urgan had been practicing his craft, was generally safe. Urgan blamed himself for what had happened to Scamp, even though no one could have expected what came through that transporting tower. Urgan had hoped that recalling Scamp would be easy, but when he first saw him there, along that mystic path, the hyena kept his distance, and had to be coaxed out from a cleft in the rock, as suddenly perceived, and cared for. Urgan imagined himself scratching its jowls, and in this space the hyena seemed at peace. "Come with me," Urgan asked, and he began returning along the same path, reciting the words in his book now in reverse order, as he withdrew from the realm he was in.
When the spell was done, Scamp was with him again. It was Scamp, he was sure, though there weas a tear in his shoulder that looked to have healed improperly. The creature howled, and tried walking now it had physical form once again, and it did so with a limp. Not to his credit, Urgan tried to dismiss this as Scamp looking for attention, or pity, as if it had lost nothing in its resummoning. Scamp wandered through the group, staying away from Urgan for a moment, who was closing up his book and storing it away in his pack. Only then did Scamp sidle up to Urgan, looking for scratches.
Thorougly exhausted, Urgan is ready to move on.
