The half dwarf sat up, clutching his head. He blinked a few times, wondering what had happened. It took him a minute to realize it was snowing. That wasn't such a big deal. He could handle temperature. What really concerned him was that it had been summer last time he'd checked. He blinked and scanned the desolate, icy plains, wondering more and more concernedly what had happened to the village in which he'd been fighting. Bits of snow drifted to stick in his braided black hair and short beard, the ones in front of his nose and mouth melting at each cloudy exhalation.
Finally, he stood. He checked himself, making sure his white and silver armor was still intact and his sword still at hand. Nodding at both reassurances, he started walking. It wasn't to anywhere in particular, but he thought better when his feet were doing something. The last that had happened was when Lorya and the other one had attacked. It was a shame, really. He'd heard what had happened to her and could scarcely believe it. It'd been a long time since he'd seen the priestess, and he hadn't planned on seeing her again one of the enemy. It hadn't been her fault, granted, the undead were pretty indiscriminate in who they took. Still, it had been all he could take when he saw her attacking them all for himself. RenDe had been throwing his infernal black magic at her, trying to subdue her with the powers of death itself. She'd been countering with white magic. It was surprising enough that she could still control the holy energies that he and she had been taught. The undead didn't typically take to channelling the stuff very heartily. What was the last thing he'd seen? A ball of green energy entering the black and white maelstrom? There'd been a big flash and all kinds of noise. Now he was here, wherever here was. That must have been it. That kind of magical turmoil wouldn't have any positive effects.
He stopped. Snow swirled lazily around him. Wandering aimlessly wouldn't get him anywhere, but he didn't have any quicker means of travel. Goddess only knew which direction would take him to civilization again, if any still existed in Oblivian. No, he doubted three small mages could end the world all by themselves. People were somewhere around here. When he found them, it'd be all that much sooner before he found his friends again. Drakona, Tomas, Vin, even little Wivvyrn, and all those others from the other group, he'd like to see them again. Anything would be better than being alone in this tundra. Well, one thing would be sure. If anyone knew how to direct him, it'd be someone with divine insight. He'd have to summon an angel to guide him to the nearest town. The snow wasn't falling all that heavily; he could draw a summoning circle right there.
Ormand Hellsbane performed a rather interesting set of dance steps to stamp out a summoning circle into the shin deep snow, hopping and weaving so as not to knock out any of the edges or corners. Finishing without even a hint of breathing any heavier, he stood outside the arcane symbol with a roughly four foot diameter and surveyed his work. After making sure it was good, he sat cross-legged in place. Performing the ritual, he fully expected his goddess of righteousness to send one of her disciples, no matter how minor, to aid him in his time of need. He'd sit there a while, waiting patiently, as paladins do, for the longest time he'd ever had to wait for such a thing before anyone would show up in the center of the circle, melting all the snow down to the dead grass and mud beneath them.
