Into the Great Wide Open

Game Master Apolexis Aulmais

Allowed: Any Paizo.
Not Allowed: Anything else.
Starting Level: 7
Ability Scores: 40 point buy. However, because your characters are exceptional individuals all-around (and in an effort to eliminate single-trick builds) - No stat may be below 12 after racial modifiers.
Race: Any Paizo race, including those from Starfinder products. Please aim for balance, and if the race has stats in both PF and SF, use the Pathfinder version. If I like your character but you have made a difficult race choice, such as a Kasatha, I reserve the right to nerf your race to be more in-line with the rest of the party w/r/t power level.
Alignment: Any - restrict Chaotic-Evil to "following the quests and not killing your companions."
Class: Triple Gestalt. Any Pathfinder, Chained or Unchained. If you wish to apply a template that removes a class feature that has been modified by the Unchained system, apply as usual. If it modifies it, ask first.
Mythic Tier: 1
Prohibited Path Abilities: A few of these just won't work well with the type of game I want to play.
- Anything Crafting related -> There won't be a lot of crafting time, and in abject honestly I'd like to control the equipment a bit more than crafting would allow.
- Legendary Item -> Same reasons as above.
- Divine Source -> There is another campaign on the boards with this right now.
Wealth: 46,000 GP. Use it wisely.
Background Skills and Feat Taxes are in effect.
=+=+=+=+=
Background: I want your Moment of Ascension, and your Calling (see below). I would be most grateful for more.

For your hook, your characters will be traveling to the Fae Realm - which is not to say identical to the First World of Pathfinder cosmology - from whence you shall attempt to thwart some multiverse-spanning threat. Due to the Realm's skewed temporal nature, characters may be from any point in history - a pre-Earthfall Dwarf drudging away in the Darklands could just as easily find herself companions with a Triaxian sorcerer suddenly pulled from his star ship.

Do note, however, that your conflicts will very likely not be with fay creatures for any great amount of this campaign. As such, it would be inadvisable to create a Ranger/Slayer focused on killing these creature types, though you are still of course welcome to do so - it just will not be to as great an advantage as you might assume.

Each character has been destined to fulfill this role - from birth, they have been special, and their ascensions into lesser divinities only served to enforce this point. Whether leaders of lesser men, recluses seeking further enlightenment, or outcasts shunned by those who feared their differences, each has heard a Call.

What began as a stirring on the instinctual level blossomed into a full-blown cry. Come to the Rose and Bee.
An ancient native of Casmaron was pulled into a cave.
An Andoran Naval Captain sailed into Absalom's harbor, seeking a tavern deep within the Petal's District.
A mining barge worker, on shore leave at a station billions of miles from home, walked through the sliding glass doors, etched with a hive and flowers.

Through which doorway shall you enter?

I became aware standing in the corner of a warehouse under Absalom. I had been hidden well enough I still had equipment on my form. Based on the lock picks, I assume my predecessor was some sort of thief. A crate at the bottom of the stack next to me contained a wider variety of equipment and an emotional note saying goodbye to "Roamer"and wising the new me well. Gathering the equipment that seemed appropriate, I left the building and begin learning of the world around me.
As I interacted with those around me, finding work and joining others in their explorations and adventures, I discovered that my capabilities, my growth, did not match theirs, but exceeded it. After learning how most respond to discovering they are more limited, I learned to hide my full capabilities from most, offering as services only those skills they seemed to be needing. Some temporary partnerships ended easily, with them never having chosen to be wiser. Some temporary partnerships ended badly, with accusations or assaults against that which did not fit their world view. A few ended with knowledge and acceptance, and I willingly reconnected with these few as opportunity presented itself.
In ruins under Varisia, near Magnimar, a group I was with was nearly destroyed. We had stumbled upon a trapped infernal being of great power. After an extended conversation, the monk decided to free the creature in exchange for the promised power. Two of the group were consumed before I was aware it had happened, while the monk simply watched and waited for his payment. The Cleric dispelled what she could from the creature, while the Slayer and I flanked the infernal and whittled it down. It took the Slayer even as my estoc pierced it's rib cage and impaled it's heart. The heart-blood of the infernal ran down the blade and across my hand. Some combination of the magics of the place and of that infernal, and that blood, changed everything. I am still processing the change, but much seems easier, now. I have gained the ability to boost my efforts through simple will. I have found some writings of mythic creatures and abilities which seem related, but those that I have found are far from complete treatments of the subject.
As I have roamed through Absalom, I have occasionally passed a tavern marked with the image of a bee examining a rose, presumably before collecting pollen. At first, it was simply another location in this large city where I had no business. I had not been to that part of the city in many weeks, but as I have been trying to discover more about this change, it keeps returning to my mind. The last reference I found with new information about these mythic abilities had been defaced. Someone had doodled on the page with new information. In the lower left hand corner was a rose, and in the upper right hand corner, a bee. I see no logical reason for the connection, but I am no longer willing to ignore this . . . urge to see what I might find in this tavern.

Castrovel, some undetermined time ago.

Kalthar hesitated for a second. What was to be done now? He’d been told not to abandon his post, but the events happening right now were of dire consequences were they left unknown to the Tribes. The Warchief needed to know.

As one of Warchief Thrall’s most trusted advisors, and also one of his more advanced apprentices, Kalthar had been given the task to watch over the Stonetalon Mountains, a range of peaks that traditionally held sacred importance to several races inhabiting the area. Kalthar was not a genius when strategics came into play, but of course, he proudly accepted the task. Thrall was a figure similar to a father for him, the Warchief, the one who united the clans and made the spirits talk to their people again after a long silence. If Thrall had told him to jump, he would have asked from which cliff.

So he set himself up on watching the place, and it came up that his assignment was justified. One random day, Kalthar sensed a strange, weird disturbance in the Spirit World, and some spirits he had set on vigilance task warned him of a trespassing. He rushed to check the situation and was shock by the sight - a magic portal was open on top of one of the peaks, and several half-draconic individuals were focused on strange magical rituals. So there he was, trying to decide for the best course of action.

”I must report the Warchief, but I can’t let these creatures go unchecked, so I can’t leave my post.” He was still an apprentice, so communication with Warchief Thrall’s location was beyond his capabilities, but he then thought that, were he able to make a message reach a nearer guard post, maybe it would spread from there. The half-dragons’ chanting was getting louder, as if they were reaching a climax, so there was no time to overthink. Kalthar summoned a wolf spirit, and tasked it with delivering the message to the nearest outpost. ”Go, my brother, and bring news to our siblings.”

Of course, if something had the chance to backlash, it would - his chanting to summon the spirit was noticed by the intruders, and he was spotted and chased. Kalthar put all his effort in trying to elude them, but the strange invaders could sense his magic and the pursuing was short - he was forced to fight. ”Oh well” he thought, ”at least they’ve stopped doing whatever they were doing... if they’re the only ones doing it, that is.” He tried to put up a good fight, and certainly did, but was clearly overwhelmed and had to rely on defensive tactics, During one of his many feints and dodges, though, he was by chance pushed or driven into the portal. He had finally managed to evade his enemies, but his mission was not to be fulfilled - he could not watch over the mountains anymore.

Kalthar entered a strange dimension, a transition realm where he found himself weighless. He was aware of the passing of time, but his perception was so warped that he couldn’t say if it took him hours or years, though in the end he reached a destination. Kalthar ended up in the Fey Realm, and he has yet to discover why, since the creatures he fought were clearly natives from a very different place.

So, what is a half-orc doing in Castrovel? The answer is easy: he reached there through a portal.

Well, actually, it’s a bit more complex. Long ago, a leader took many half-orcs under his command, back in Golarion. After many generations of scorn and suffering, word had spread that this leader was to give them the recognition and independence they well deserved. Many of them gathered, coming from orcish villages, human cities or multicultural settlements; all of them united under one banner, with the same desire of belonging.

This leader, whose name is long forgotten, took the half-orcs on a pilgrimage, and they searched for a place to call their home. In their wanderings, they discovered a passage which took them to a far away realm - in fact, to a wild region in the planet Castrovel. Once there, and with no possibility of returning, the half-orcs divided themselves in different communities, and scattered through the region. They had quarries with the lashunta, and with the formians, and of course with themselves. Some of them succumbed to their orcish blood and became wild savages, while others were victims of other kinds of corruptions native from this new place. They gradually lost most of their culture and connection to their past, and were bound to disappear or turn into wild animals.

It was an ex-slave called, very adequately, Thrall, who managed to bring back the memories of the past. After freeing himself and many others from their formian masters, he gathered the half-orcs again and they settled away in a territory they called Durotar, in memory of Thrall’s father. When they formally named it, Thrall said: ”My father, Durotar, died without knowing freedom. Now, he’ll dwell here, in the heart of freedom itself, forever.”

Kalthar was a youngster when Thrall escaped the slave camp, and he went with him. He learned the ways of the spirits from him, and served faithfully until he found himself cut off from his brothers.

Species: Vlaka (Hearing and Sighted), p.134-135, Starfinder Alien Archive 2 Just can't turn down the chance to play a wolf-like person, and the "fluff" (get it?) is really cool too.
Classes: TBD; playing around with some combination of Reliquarian Occultist, Relic Hunter Inquisitor, Zen Archer (Unchained) Monk, and Arrowsong Minstrel Bard. I might branch out a little more because that feels a little too one-trick for my tastes. I will probably also try to stick to just three classes; no multiclassing. Tristalt is busy enough. :)

Arnou was special from the moment he was born. With fur a solid gray-blue, instead of the usual white, there was something unusual about him. As he matured into an adult, his unusual calm, patience, wisdom, curiosity, compassion, and sense of wonder made it evident that he had been touched by Weydan and chosen for a special task.
Largely eschewing more advanced technologies, he mastered ancient weapons that didn't interfere with his ability to listen for the rhythm and hum of ancient artifacts--and the call of a new home for his people.

After his adulthood he could not sit still. It was not long before Weydan lead him to wander the Vast. After many adventures, harrowing, wonderful, and enlightening, Weydan lead him to an unnamed planet where time, space, and matter were in constant flux. As Arnou aged, grew younger, and aged again, Weydan showed him a door. The door constantly shifted from wood, to steel, to glass, to vines, and all number of other things. As Arnou stared at the door, he felt a tug Go through. Your destiny, and that of your people, waits on the other side. With that prompt, Arnou stepped through without hesitating. As he did, Weydan blessed him by completing a blessing of divinity that had begun with his birth; Arnou "ascended."

To find a new home for the Vlaka, and then to continue wandering and searching for new homes for all displaced peoples.

For centuries, good and evil fought over influence of the Qadiran throne. As governor of a distant province of a vast, sprawling empire, the Satrap of Qadira does not have the power he desires, but is still a political force to be reckoned with. Heaven and hell know this and have always been influencing the politics of the region. The current ruler, Satrap Xerbystes II was no different and lived in constant struggle over the pull into good and evil. While this war over Qadira was one of intrigue usually, it sometimes escalted violently as the historical records proove. The innocent people of Qadira would suffer from disease and catastrophe at times which were the result of an open confrontation in the fight between angels and demons. The most devastating of these was the great earthquake of 2920 AR, which killed tens of thousands.
One such violent conflict happened almost exactly 20 years ago, Izora's birthday. About nine months earlier, the royal couple had made an immoral deal with the archon Gazardiel. Xerbystes II was infertile due to war injuries but wanted and needed an heir. They bargained with the archon that he would impregnate the queen with a boy and would in return gain an official counceling position on the royal court. Quickly the queen was expecting and the country was in great anticipation for the new prince. However, the abyssal emissaries did not see this event with favorable eyes and forged a diabolic plan.
When the queen was in labor, the demon lord Vekenoth appeared at her bed and killed everyone on site. He delivered the little baby himself in order to kidnapp it. Gazardiel, however, came to the rescue just in time and killed the demon. Izora was born a beautiful aasimar princess. While the queen was happier than ever, the king was not. He needed a male heir and confronted the archon that apparently broke a deal. But, a few years later, Izora got a younger brother, prince Arasmes, heir to the Qadiran throne.
She didn't take this lightly, being the firstborn, yet ignored for being a woman. Therefore, she made it her purpose to prove to her father that she was brighter, stronger and wiser than her weak brother. Her teacher for doing so, the great master Ik-Teshup was a dwarf of over 100 years. Ik-Teshup comes from an ancient monastery dedicated to Irori, Angradd and Falayna. He raised the girl Izora in the values of good, honor and self-perfection. He schooled her in martial skills that even the royal academy couldn't, in history about the Eternal Conflict and in Qadiran politics. She learned quickly and her powers grew strongly. The Satrap, who still loved his daughter, despite the open conflict, couldn't ignore her strength and will and decided to make her the first female general of his army. She was only 18 at the time.
Half of her strength comes from her sheer self-confidence, will and archon heritage. However, the other half was tainted. The bloodbath on her birth bed had left an abyssal taint in her blood. At first she just seemed an angry child, but soon the Ik-Teshup identified her bloodrage. And he tought her to control it, hone it and use it wisely against the enemy. This is her deepest secret that she needs to hide from her father, her mother and her soldiers.
Successfully, she lead the armies into wars against abyssal hordes. She had found her purpose. Her calling was to finally end the Eternal Conflict and bring peace to the Qadiran court, ridding the world of the abyssal menace that also resides within her. She would do this with an army behind her, or single-handidly when needed.
She had accepted her role as a general, yet would never forgive her father for denying her the throne. Whenever possible she would stand in for women's rights and confront her father's ancient laws. She found special calm in the teachings of the Empyreal Lord Falayna, patron goddess of femininity and martial training and openely promoted women to join her army.

"Ahhhh!" Izora screamed with her last breath the nauseating vapors laming her movement. Will not give up. Must defeat him. The Hezrou Demon she was confronting circled around her. He limped slightly from the arrows in his left leg, but he clearly had the upper hand now. And he was carefully studying his prey. Izora stood up. "Noooo!" With another cry she grew to match the demon's size. Then she jumped it and grabbed his whole torso, in order to lift the monster in the air. But the outsider released another vapor cloud and this time she fell to the poisonous gas. He slashed her left and right with his claws and she was defeated. What is this bright light? Am I at heaven's door? But how can I still smell the beast? she wondered. She turned her head and had to close her eyes. A humanoid form hovered above the floor shining bright like the sun. A hot ray appeared and hit the startled demon directly above her. The monster screamed in agony just as she did moments before. It released the grapple and turned toward the angel. When it started to charge another beam hit it, immediately followed by several swings of a blade. The angel seemed prepared and immune to the toxic vapors and slayed the monster.
"Thh thank you." She said, still unable to move. He came to her and a rush of healing went through her. Yet it was more than just a healing spell. The divine power lifted her in the air and for a brief moment she shined light as bright as the angel did before. And she felt even stronger than before.
"You did good, my dear" He pointed at the two other demon corpses that she had fought before the hezrou. "Your strength is impressive. I guess I shouldn't have expected anything less, right? " with a smile he turned around ready to leave as sudden as he had appeared.
"Wait! Who are you?" She asked. Not turning around to face her he answered: "I'm your father..." and with these words he teleported away.

Venture-Captain Jalden Krensharr,

I write to you to report on the loss of our expedition, and an explanation as to the delay of this missive. I had the unwanted honor of taking control of what remained of the expedition that were sent into the recently uncovered dwarven ruins, abandoned before the Quest for Sky. Reports led us to believe that the ruins were uninhabited due to seismic shifts in the earth that had buried most of the city. In this, we were wrong. I accept blame in our mistake in trusting our 'guide', who turned out to be a disguised Deurgar. The gray dwarf led us straight into one of the warrens of its people. One by one we went missing, until an ambush was sprung upon the entire expedition. Our erstwhile guide, Torsten Runeforger, was the leader of this band of gray dwarves. As honorable as he was treacherous, he offered a proposition. Information as to the rift in exchange for our freedom. Johund refused and was killed on the spot. To my great shame, I gave in to his demands. True to his word, we survivors were led to the surface, though they took us on a most unfamiliar route. It took us many a day to hiking through the wilderness before we got our bearings. I truly fear that the gray hearted dwarf is planning in regards to the rift, and I beg you to deploy what assets you can to defend it. [/i]

----

"Ye be askin' who I be? Well, sounds right fair enough. The name's Torsten. Torsten Runeforger. Don't let the face fool ye, I'm an alright sort, if I do say so myself. An' I do. Aye, aye. Deurgar are all vile slavers and all that. It's true. But ye see, I've got plans. Plans that have taken me out of me home to this world of light and life."

"Now, yer probably wonderin', how'd an old smith like me got here. Well, ye see. My people, we are the true dwarves. Those who refused to leave our homes for the tyranny of light. So we have the gifts of our blood, and one of which is our psychic powers. Now, mine are a wee different than most. Happened when I was a lad. Ye see, I always thought that my powers were linked to nature. To the water and the earth and all that. But I was wrong. It is linked here, to this fae world. I researched and I researched, but that was ne'er enough, ye ken? My people don't get out much. So I had to go to the surface. Bloody hells that hurt my eyes! But I endured. And I found someone who knew where I had to go to find out about the power within me. Took some encouragement, and many a month of planning, but I did it."

"Found me this rift. Got me into this world. And gods below, it felt like coming home! When I went through it was as if though I was ripped apart and put back together. Such pain like ye wouldn't believe! But now...ach! I feel alive! Do ye understand? For the first time I feel truly alive! Gave up everything to be here. My position, my clan, my future, e'en my uncaring god. All of it gone! And it was worth it. Worth every drop of sweat, every second of toil. But now? Now I want two things. Knowledge, and power. And aye, aye. They're often the same. So, laddy. That should answer yer question. So let's see what ye can do for me in return then..."

The mind, it was like a parent for any AI, robot or Android that had been signed and built by it. And now the mind was dying, rock ran through the systems of the craft. techBots screamed and pain, the AIs sort to gain access and save. Other crew both orga and mecha worked to save the ship and so the mind 0f the Ship. Seven had no idea why the space craft they where in was now falling to an unknown world. Did not know why the feet was reported cascade fails. Life pods where being shot out, smaller ships feel out of space docs. But she to far deep into the AI core was doomed to the fact of the Minds ship. She had been sent as soon as something was seen to be wrong. Her task fund the unexpected or unexplained She had been doing just that when the alarms started. As she lay there in an access tube. Her comms came on.

Wink Wink... Dive requested.

Someone wanted to link to her, someone needed to looking at the winking light.

Agreed link
She sent back in blunt code.

Then her reality changed, and she was standing on the stop of a small hill. In front of her a large tree and a child sat in front of it. Darn this sim was good. Have to be a ships AI to run something this good. She walked to the child.

"Hello Mind how can I help you?"

The child smiled at her and then information poured into her mind. She screamed and fell to the floor. Holding her head in pain.

"Too much, too fast!!"

She screams, but the childs said back.

"There is no time, you will understand soon."

She just screamed more.

With an grunt of effort, the last of the interlopers fell to the ground, his head tumbling shortly after to join it's body resting in the bloody loom. His slayer, a giant brute of an elf, knelt to inspect the bodies of the intruders, the green glint of his axe dulled by the blood covering it's head. "No one pushes this far into the forest, especially adventurers." The forest guardian mumbled to himself, foraging through the leader's belongings to see if there was a reason these fools had carved a path through his home.

Pulling free a parchment covering in charcoal marking, the elf stood up. Noticing an arrow still buried in his shoulder, Silvatarae snapped the haft with ease, before pushing the arrow through with a grunt of pain. Glancing at the map, the knight scratched at the moss that covered his face in the imitation of a beard. This map indicates the existence of a shrine near the Great Oak, but I don't remember any such structure there. Grabbing the haft of his axe, Silvatarae set off to check the veracity of the map.

Eventually, the wilderness warrior stumbled upon a stone structure that seemed to be built like a temple. Grabbing his axe's heft, the elf wandered into the entrance cautiously. In the center stood a stone obelisk, covered in Sylvan markings. Peering about, Silvatarae neared the obelisk, squinting to read the script. His weapon's edge touched the obelisk, then pain wracked the elf's body. Dropping to his knees, he managed to make out a single sentence before he succumbed to darkness, his right arm feeling as though it was being burned to a crisp. One defender of the verdant shall be reborn...

NG Human Oracle (Time) / Wizard (Prophecy School)(Chronomancer, Scroll Scholar) / Psychic (Self-Perfection) 7 | Mythic 1

Init +3 (+2); Perception +16

DEFENSE
AC 14 (10 + dex + armor + shield + natural armor + deflection + 4(6) wis + dodge)
Touch 10(14); Flat-Footed 10(14); CMD 21
HP 52 / 52
Fort +6 ; Ref +5 ; Will +14

OFFENSE
Speed 30ft;

Spells
SR Check (+7), Dispel Check (+9), Caster Level Check (+7)
2/day - Comprehend Languages, Identify
1/day - Detect Thoughts

Wizard (CL 7th, concentration +11(+13))
4th— Scrying, D Door
3rd— Tongues, Spiked Pit, Fireball. Lightning Bolt
2nd— See Invisibility, Visualize the Mind, Invisibility, Darkvision, Scorching Ray, Scorching Ray
1st— Kreighton’s Perusal, Mage Armor, Blood Money, Pro Evil, Magic Missile, Magic Missile, Burning Hands
0th—Acid Splash, Ray of Frost, Jolt, Disrupt Undead, Read Magic

Oracle (known) (CL 7th, concentration +13)
3rd—5- CSW, Sand of Time, Dispel Magic, Collaborative Thaumaturgy
2nd—8- CMW, Gentle Repose, Silence, L Restoration, Delay Poison
1st—8- CLW, Memory Lapse, Shield of Faith, Embrace Destiny, Remove Fear, Skim, Unbreakable Heart
0th— Create Water, Spark, Light, Stabilize, Scrivener’s Chant, Detect Poison, Purify Food and Drink

Psychic (known) (CL 7th, concentration +11(+13))
3rd—5- Haste, Heroism, Fly
2nd—8- Bear’s Endurance, Ironskin, Anticipate Thoughts, Suppress Charms and Compulsions
1st—8- Expeditious Retreat, Shield, Feather Fall, Burst of Adrenaline, Vanish, Ill Omen
0th—Prestidigitation, Mage Hand, Know Direction, Telekinetic Projectile, Detect Magic, Message, Mending

STATISTICS
Str 12(10), Dex 12(10), Con 13, Int 18(22), Wis 18(22), Cha 22
Base Atk +5; CMB +6(+5)

Feats
[1]Fast Learner, [W]Spell Focus (Divination), [3]Spell Focus (Abjuration), [5]Spell Specialization (dispel magic), [7]Planar Infusion (Time)

Skill tot = ranks + class + ability + misc
*appraise +10 = 1 + 3 + 6 + 0
fly +4 = 1 + 3 + 0 + 0
heal +16 = 7 + 3 + 6 + 0
knowledge (arcana, planes) +17 = 4 + 3 + 6 + 3
knowledges (other) +14 = 4 + 3 + 6 + 0
*linguistics +16 = 7 + 3 + 6 + 0
perception +16 = 7 + 3 + 6 + 0
sense motive +10 = 1 + 3 + 6 + 0
spellcraft +16 = 6 + 3 + 6 + 0
UMD +16 = 7 + 3 + 6 + 0
Languages Common, +13

SQ
Wizard - Temporal Pool (7(9)) (Forewarned, Rewind)
Oracle - Revelations (Erase from Time, Time Flicker, Time Hop)
Psychic - Phrenic Pool (7(9)), AC Bonus (Ex), Physical Push, Bodily Purge (4d8), Phrenic Amplifications (Perfect Body, Defensive Prognostication, Complex Countermeasures)
Mythic Hard to Kill, Mythic Power (5), Surge (1d6), Wild Arcana
Path Abilities Perfect Preparation
Mythic Feat Mythic Spell Lore (Heroism)

Gear
500gp
Headband of Cha +4, Ring of Sustenance, Necklace of Adaption, Cloak of Resistance +3
8x Scroll of Threefold Aspect

The library was dark. Silence permeated the spaces that the books did not fill. A stuffy air sat almost motionless in this area. Almost motionless because the hint of a light flickered in a forgotten corner of this building. In this corner a robed human man hunched over a parchment on which he furiously scribbled. He was surrounded by walls of stacked books. His eyes jetted from the parchment to an open book, to another open book, to about three more open books, and back. The candle, that lighted this frantically studious process, was at the end of the wick. With a last little flicker it went out.

"Gods damn!" the human man curses, "Why do I even bother?..." His voice trailed off as one hand gwent instinctually for a pouch at his side and his other began contorting into different positions. He then also began speaking an ancient language to link the power of his three actions, "tenebrae visus". The man, contented, sat back down and began scribbling once more.

A couple hours, and several parchments, later the scribbling stopped and he stood up violently with one parchment in hand, "YES! THIS IS IT!" he exclaimed while looking around, as if expecting some sort of celebration. Muted by the lack of others, he frantically dug in his side pouch and pulled out a pinch of sand. He then began making contorting gestures with his other hand and happily shouted "traveho aevus!".

He then disappeared...

After what felt like both an eternity and a second to the man, he opened his eyes in a space where he floated(?). A space filled with light but empty of anything. He couldn't move, or more specifically moving did nothing. He did however feel an overwhelming presence. It was indescribable. He knew something was there and yet could perceive nothing. And then, an instant later, he felt an emotion coupled with an idea. Amused curiosity and that he didn't belong here. And, just as quickly, he was now in a city street.

He looked around, confused. Where was he? He wracked his brain for several minutes, but could not identify where he was.

He quickly dismissed that dilemma because, he thought, it didn't matter. He would just cast the spell again and confront that presence.