Nothing further had delayed Ulor's incantation, and the scented smoke had continued to rise from the censer, spinning between his deftly darting hands. The pale vapours split into strands, swaying as weeds, their blue veins weaving themselves into strange forms. It might have been a trick of the cathedral's vaulted walls and corners, but it seemed that the warlock's whispering was joined by a second voice, not quite an echo nor quite a howling breeze. A cloud detached itself from the column ascending from the thurible. It spun, slowly, deliberately, around an invisible nucleus, becoming first a sphere, then something more elongated. Tendrils sprouted from it, and blue spots pulsed at its poles. The smoke became flesh.

The Octopus had come.

Where, a moment ago, there had been only the traces of burned incense, there now hovered the familiar shape of the tentacled familiar. Ulor rubbed his temples with a relieved expression, then patted the creature on its gelatinous body. All was in its place now. Well, not quite all, but, at least, what had already been in place before.

And in good time, as well. The party had just uncovered what seemed to be a damp downward passageway, to be trodden with caution - what better task for an octopus? Ulor nodded, and whispered something without words. The familiar swayed and twisted, then, slowly, carefully, began to swim towards the doorway. As it did, its pale skin began to change in colour, becoming dimmer and dimmer. Only the blue eyes remained unchanged on the less and less visible background; eyes through which the master was ready to see.


[hider=The soul of the party returns]
Ulor summons back Octopus, who is ready to follow Yvah and Araerys down the stairway with a Stealth roll of [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/rolls/4227]23[/url].

[/hider]