A desperate attempt

It'd been a week since Ros moved to Stranglethorn Valley. Well, "moved" might not be the right word for it: he just grabbed his backpack after the guild meeting and took a zeppelin to Grom'Gol. Ever since then he had been living in the jungle, hunting raptors for food and spending days and nights meditating in a desperate attempt to get a vision.

"What's the point in being a hexer if i can't even help my own friends?"

That's what he told Chabat back then. But he wasn't completely honest with himself. His speciality wasn't the real reason. He knew both protective and restorative chants and could maintain the trance for hours... They just weren't strong enough. None of his spells were, and that was because he still hadn't received the blessing of the Loa. Back in his childhood, Ros was a promising pupil that had everything it takes to become a Voodoo master. And ever since that time he hadn't received a vision, not even a single dream he could remember. When it became clear that he wasn't able to undergo the ritual, people started to give him suspicious looks. Whatever friends he had grew more and more distant with each passing day, so Ros had to turn to reading books instead. He was still quite useful in some ways though, and Gadrin kept him as an apprentice. But as a shaman he was a complete failure, or at least that's what he recently came to realize.

But everything comes to an end sooner or later. So did Ros' patience.

"If they don't want to talk to me, I will make them listen!"

***

The brew didn't look as disgusting as one might've thought. Purple Lotus found by ancient troll ruins, Ghost Mushrooms from the faraway Hinterlands, the land of forest trolls, Firebloom from the deadly Tanaris desert... Bloodthistle, Shimmerweed — any herb Ros thought could affect his mind was used in the potion.

"If this won't make me see a damn vision, then I don't know what will..."

Ros took a deep breath, closed his eyes and drank off the whole vial.

***

For a moment the world stood still. The colours had faded in an instant, the sounds of the jungle went down and disappeared completely. And then the world suddenly shattered. Everything was gone, and Ros was surrounded by thick darkness. Little by little he was able to distinguish dim lights far in the distance. There were myriads of them — countless spirits, all calling out to him...

Ros opened his eyes. He was lying on a cold flat rock, right above the coast of Stranglethorn. What he first thought was a gathering of spirits appeared to be the nightsky full of stars, the sound was made by tidal waves crashing against the shore. Ros began to slowly regain control over his body. Several hours had passed since he lost consciousness, or maybe several days — he had no idea. The empty vial was still firmly cramped in his hand.

Ros tried to stand up a few times, then fell back in exhaustion. He was smiling. After all, it wasn't a complete failure: Ros was sure that, if even for a split second, he was able to see a different plane of existance. A world of spirits that he was never allowed to see before.

I really like this story It's a nice piece of character developement.

that was great. a lovely little peice of writing

Best described trip I've ever read, really lovely done was pure joy to read it