Time passes, and still Joranth has not come out of his unconscious state. The others speak in quiet tones.

"Joranth usually comes out of this a lot quicker," comments Damalanthas, "especially with the ring on."

"I would not worry," replies Souriin "It is possible that he managed to cast a spell as he was falling and that that has kept him in his coma. Besides, he has taken some fairly serious injuries. How he managed to get away with only broken ribs and bruises, only the gods know."

On the blanket, Joranth starts to moan, his breathing becoming more rapid and less constant.

"See," says Souriin, "I told you that he would come out it sooner or later."

The halfling’s body starts to thrash, bending itself into contortions that he could never manage while awake.

"I don’t think he’s quite conscious yet," shouts Damalanthas as he leaps towards Joranth.

Joranth’s thrashing becomes more pronounced, then stops, his wide-open eyes staring into vacant space.

"Hold him", shouts the bard, "he is about to start thrashing again."

Euvgeni, who has been napping in a chair nearby, leaps to his feet, his hand automatically reaching for the sword resting nearby. As the situation seeps into his sleepy consciousness, he steps over to Joranth and places him in a lock hold.

"What’s going on?" asks Euvgeni, still blinking the sleep from his eyes.

From the corner Owen comments, unconcernedly "Half-man see god when sleep. He okay."

Joranth’s thrashing starts again, even more violently than before. Despite Joranth’s repeated blows to Euvgeni’s tender ribs, he holds firm.

"What is Joranth seeing?" wonders Damalanthas.

"Personally, I would rather not know" replies Tekuna, with a little sarcasm in her voice, "those sort of things usually leave one shaking for a couple of days".

"Experience" mutters Souriin.

In Joranth’s mind, the world is a haze of pain and colour; nothing seems to be right, there is no concrete point on which to anchor. "Of course there is," replies his confused mind. "What?" asks another part. "Your faith" answers a third. "Ah", sighs a fourth. "Mushrooms and good red wine" comments the first. "Faith, yourself, your left toenail, six broken ribs" adds another.

Slowly Joranth’s fragmented minded starts to coalesce into a single entity. Reaching inside himself, he joins to the point that connects him to the greater glory of Cha-im. Power floods though his body, for a moment washing away all pain.

"Go" howls a voice in his mind "go, find it..." In his mind, Joranth sees himself grasping a pillar. Holding onto his feet is the entire halfling race. He begs the pillar to help, and it does, growing arms and holding him. The halflings ask as well, and a woman dressed in rural clothes with a sack of food over her shoulder approaches, shaking her head. She helps the halflings as a whole and pulls.

Joranth moans, then screams as his back starts to give way under the pressure, but still he holds on... he hears a "pop", just a split second before pain and darkness overwhelm him. Joranth lies suspended in darkness, his mind active, but unable move his body. To the left, he can just see a globe and, focusing further, he sees a war raging within it. To his right lies another globe, and in this miles upon miles of farmland lies, with laughing content halflings and gnomes...

"Oh... look what I’ve found" comments a cold, quiet voice from behind. Slowly, like a predator, whatever it is circles round to within Joranth’s line of vision.

Joranth screams. With agility born only of a halfling in trouble, Joranth slips Euvgeni’s hold and leaps into the corner of the room. His breathing is more ragged than ever. Slowly, reality seeps in, and Joranth wakes to see some rather concerned faces looking at him.

"I cannot stay more than a day" are Joranth’s first words. "If I don’t get the staff and soon, I know that I am in the biggest load of trouble, I’ve ever been in. I don’t have the time to do much. My soul is at stake. I have to leave for Waterloaf in the morning. If anyone wants to come with me, they are welcome and appreciated, but where I’m going, I think not even a thief would dare to go without second thoughts."

Joranth collapses into a corner as he tries to gather his wits.

"You know," he thinks to himself "I believe that I am about to try something really stupid!"