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Message: <blockquote data-quote="EarlyBird" data-source="post: 7409587" data-attributes="member: 6899077">The dirt floor of the church makes the etching of a runic circle easy and Searinox starts in earnest to have his companion back. As he stands outside the finished circle, the incense making a thin fog around the young wizard, he chants softly the incantation to the spell.Something feels odd a few minutes into the chanting, and Searinox looks up to see nothing forming in the circle. Confused, but not wishing to lose the spell he continues. Closing his eyes and concentrating on the form, but all he can see are feathers, and then...Inside the cave the raven darts towards the small blue creature, swaying back and forth ready to dodge out of the way. Searinox knows he is somehow looking into Devana's memory of when she died. He watches the short sword swing straight into the raven's chest and Searinox grasps his own as he feels the pain of the blow, the pain of being summoned. The spell is over and confused Searinox looks all around. Devana is nowhere to be seen, but the half-elf knows she is on this plane and close. He closes his eyes, and although he can feel he isn't close enough to see through her eyes he does see something, and more importantly he feels the familiars confusion mirroring his own. The image is a bit fuzzy and odd. It looks like broken timber, roof tiles, and furnishings. Devana is in a collapsed house, lying and panting from the ritual that summoned her, the pain of the short sword blow still fresh in her mind. Searinox sees sunlight and a green hill with a windmill atop it, and then the connection is lost.</blockquote>

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