Tag: ritual magic

#Lore24 – Entry #322 – Fantasy Month IV #17 – A Messy Situation

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

For those readers who may not be aware of the exact timing, these journal entries are indeed written well after the events described within them; I can’t very well catalogue my thoughts when I’m being assailed by ravenous vines covered with lust-inducing venom, now can I?  As an example, this and the last entry were both written once the party safely returned to Vindinium.  As to how that happened, do read on.

I am uncertain how long the druids allowed the vines to enjoy our bodies, for it is all a pleasure-shrouded haze of frustration in my case, though perhaps Risai and Korvalis may indeed have a different opinion on the matter.  I would daresay Risai may have enjoyed the predicament for a time, and perhaps Korvalis as well, though the wrath he would bring upon the druids following our eventual escape may indeed indicate the opposite. 

We were taken into a well-hidden camp deep within the Thistlewood, nestled among some of the ruins of the ancient draconic city, the vines shaped and controlled by the druids to keep us restrained and at their mercy.  I can recall Risai fighting against the binding vines, to little effect other than the vines seemingly redoubling their efforts to feed upon her essence.  As my memories of the hours or days that we spent in captivity are hazy at best, I will skip to the parts I remember, the night we were to be sacrificed.

I believe their ritual was intended to correspond to the peak of the full moon, for the druidic cult had dedicated themselves to preparations during our captivity and grew ever more excited for what was to come, to the best of my recollection.  I am thankful that our companions who had not been captured remained vigilant, for on the day of the ritual, the druids rested later and more deeply than normal as they prepared themselves, leaving only a handful to keep watch over us.  Ellisar saw to cloaking our party members with his magic, while Shassk saw to dealing with our guards in a silent, if most gruesome, manner, aided by magical silence from Ellisar.  Once the druids controlling them were dealt with, the maidenbane vines lost interest in us, thoroughly gorged as they were upon our vital essence.  Gresilda thankfully had prepared several spells to remove the lingering effects of their poison upon us, giving us a proper chance to carry ourselves out of the hidden enclave, cloaked by more of Ellisar’s invisibility.

I was content to make a hasty retreat to Vindinium, but Korvalis would have none of it, insisting that he had to pay the druids back for their actions.  This was the first real conflict amongst our party, and I could understand wanting revenge, certainly, but our best interest lay in retreat to fight another day.  Still, Korvalis, once he had regained his equipment, set off on his own, followed soon by Shassk, while the rest of us rode ahead toward the river crossing a few miles away.  We would wait until sunset for them, and if they didn’t return, then we were to assume they had been captured or killed.  Nobody liked it, but Risai and I were nearly exhausted, and Ellisar and Gresilda had little left in the way of magic.  I still don’t know exactly where Korvalis found the energy to do what he did.

It was just an hour or so before sunset that our two wayward party members returned, the smell of blood heavy upon them, remarkably light of injury. I didn’t get all the details, but Korvalis seemed sated in his bloodlust, and all Shassk would tell me was that even he was now rather unsettled by the deadly efficiency with which Korvalis dealt with the druids. “I have never seen so silent a death befall so many…” was all he told me. There would be no further need to worry from that particular cult.

With that dark mood firmly established, we pushed onward to the village, arriving a couple hours after sunset, where we could finally take time to recover from our long excursion.

#Lore24 – Entry #321 – Fantasy Month IV #16 – Detours and Detainments

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

Upon leaving the standing stones, the greatest source of my frustration finally stopped their incessant buzzing, returning to their more normal routine of random stimulation that only left me mildly frustrated in comparison.  The southeasterly course we had picked was not as easy to navigate as our previous route and thus took us several more days to traverse, but didn’t seem to pass through any kobold territory, so at least we were unmolested in that regard.  There were dangers aplenty, though, for with game being plentiful, it meant we also encountered more predators that were none too pleased to have intruders into their territory.  Though mostly your more mundane cougars, wolves, and the like, we did have to deal with another flame-drake that came at us from above.  I must say that for once I was quite pleased to see Ellisar’s Staff of Many Bindings be used, for it made short work of the creature once its ability to fly had been taken from it.

Our luck would not hold, however.  As we neared the region where we were likely to find the next set of standing stones, we began to see signs of humanoid habitation in the form of painted markings upon the rocks, old campfires, bones of harvested game.  The rock paintings indicated orcs, likely one of the many tribes of them that the Heroes had been facing on a semi-regular basis since they had begun their work in the region.  Soon enough we would begin to see cooking fires in the distance indicating a very large population of them.  Thus far, only a scant few tribes have proven themselves the least bit civilized, the Empire’s loyal Badaxe Clan foremost among them, so it was unlikely that these tribes would be willing to entertain outsiders in their lands, especially when said outsiders are likely responsible or killing a great many of their kin.

Thus, we were forced to move with extreme caution, detouring off our planned route for several days, following Shassk and Korvalis as they navigated a route that would avoid the worst of the orcish population.  At least we would gather some useful information about their location and numbers for future use.  Once we had come out of orcish territory, we had to swing back to the northwest, circling the rim of the valley that housed the standing stones for another day before we finally found a passable route down into it.  Thankfully the orcs had not claimed the area for their own, and like the previous stones, the primal energy that lay heavy upon the site had kept them away. 

We completed our next ritual without incident and made haste to clear the area, driving swiftly to the southeast once more in the direction of Vindinium.  Our good fortune would run out as we neared the Thistlewood and Lake Thistlelonica, on the far side from the village.  As we ventured along the upper shore of the lake in search of the river that fed it, and a crossing that would get us to the village, we found ourselves facing a sudden ambush that even our guides had failed to notice, for it was not at all what we had come to expect.

In our haste to return to the village, we had failed to notice the curious nature of the overgrowth in this region, the thick canopy of leafy vines that spread like a green sea over the hills, wood, and shore.  We skirted the mass, not wanting to go through blindly, but the mass of vegetation came alive, swelling and rising up like great leafy serpents.  Our horses were spooked, rearing and dancing wildly at the sudden movement, and Risai, Korvalis, and I were unable to control their wild behavior and were thrown.  As we tried to recover from our misfortune, bruised and dazed from our falls, I heard shouting and chanting in a language that I would later come to recognize as the secret tongue of the Druids.  Walls of thorns sprang up between us and the rest of our party, and the very trees began to come alive against us.  The vines closed in around us as spells filled the air, and try as I might, I could not keep the vines away from me or the others.  Risai’s heavy mace was mostly useless against the vegetation, as were Korvalis’s daggers. 

In my case, the vines swarmed around me in a fury, and as they latched onto me and their secretions began to tingle upon my skin, I realized that they were a form of maidenbane vines, for I grew somehow hornier and lethargic in their grasp, dropping my scimitar as they coiled about me and ripped my clothing away.  I suppose I was the lucky one here, for I was at least somewhat protected from their most erotic probing by Lady Armenia’s chastity gear, though they still found their way to my rear and into my mouth.  Fight as they would, Risai and Korvalis were likewise subdued by the combined strength of the vines themselves and the potency of their poison, leaving them helplessly wrapped in their invasive clutches.

The sounds of battle would fade as the others were forced into a hasty retreat, and through our pleasure-addled daze, we would see the fur- and foliage-covered druids we had not noticed approach us, watching with satisfaction as their vines continued to hold us helpless before them.  Using their magic, they urged the binding maidenbane vines to move, and we were brought deeper into the cover of the Thistlewood, for what purpose I could not imagine in that moment, for I was lost in the pleasure haze, even if the accursed chastity gear prevented me from climaxing, even with the poison coursing through my veins.

#Lore24 – Entry #320 – Fantasy Month IV #15 – Unexpected Complications at the Standing Stones

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

I suppose I should likely have been more concerned when we moved deeper into the site of power and my accessories activated once again.  It had been such a mild distraction the last few days during my study of the ruin that I almost dared to believe that I had mastered its influence upon me.  This proved incorrect, however, for as we approached to within a hundred yards or so of the stone circle, both the nipple rings and my most uncomfortable cage began to vibrate, steadily and with growing intensity, as we drew closer, making me fidget enough to unsettle my horse.

Descending toward the center of the valley, the growth of trees around the stone circle thinned as we grew nearer until we were in a treeless clearing at the center, the circle of ancient stones stood perhaps a hundred feet in diameter, with the stones themselves standing roughly twenty feet high.  Some appeared almost like massive claws reaching from beneath the earth, while others formed standing arches at precisely the angles that matched the eight compass points.  No trees grew within the circle, the grass remained short, and no moss covered them.

Though we were exhausted from our assaults from the kobolds, and I was growing more aroused by the moment thanks to the incessant and powerful vibrations surging through me, I nonetheless began to study the circle while camp was prepared, just outside the circle.  After a time, when it seemed I may actually climax, I felt a most jarring cessation of the vibrations, almost as if a lever had been pulled, leaving me unsteady on my feet for several moments as I recovered.  Now that I was upon the edge of climax again, the other function of the items had taken over, and after I had had a few minutes to cool off, the teasing would start up again, ramping up to an almost painful level before shutting off just before I could reach the climax I so desperately needed.

It didn’t take me long to realize that the power of the dragon-rune-covered stones were causing this peculiar behavior, for the nature of the vibrations changed as I touched various stones and traced the runes upon them, transcribing them into my notes with what light we had left.  I wondered if I would be able to find rest at all within the radius of the circle without magical aid to suppress their activation or to put me into a deep magical slumber.  Although this did give me a clue on the origins and nature of the magics that had been worked into the devices attached to me, even though I wouldn’t make pondering upon them a priority.

The party, while not completely unaware of the nature of my predicament, as we had discussed my relationship with Lady Armenia during our travels, and Gresilda and Risai were quite well aware of situation as we had bathed together on multiple occasions to this point, certainly found out that night.  Shassk was indifferent or perhaps unreadable to me, Ellisar and Korvalis seemed quite amused with my predicament, Gresilda sympathetic and understanding, and Risai…perhaps envious?  She is rather stoic outside of battle, showing a remarkable control of her barbarian bloodline, but I’ve noted that she has been watching me for some time with a rather obvious curiosity. 

Still, once we had settled down around the campfire for the night to recover, I had began to form some idea of the nature of these standing stones, perhaps cluing me into the reasons why the magic within my accessories had activated so intently.  The nature of the site, and perhaps of this particular dragon’s domain, was to celebrate fertility and propagation of the species, and thusly, the ritual that must be performed in the name of the dragon ruler was one of a distinctly sexual nature.  This I kept hidden at the time, for I still had over half the stones to study to confirm this theory, but it would prove true enough by the following evening once I had had time enough to compile everything I had collected.  I found my rest through another sleeping enchantment from Ellisar, thankfully, though I was exceptionally aroused and quite wet by the time morning arrived.

Our respite was uninterrupted, the kobolds not willing to cross into the stie’s radius to hunt us down, and by noon the following day Shassk had already found two other routes out of the valley along the ancient, connected roadways that would undoubtedly lead to other standing stones.  After a very long and frustration-filled day, I would have conformation of the nature of the ritual that we would need to perform to show our devotion to the “Blinding Golden God”.  Though not an actual orgy, it would skirt very close to it, given the highly sexualized nature of the ritual movements that must be enacted in the center of the circle to receive the dragon god’s blessing.  The first of six such blessings, I might add.  I detailed what we must do and was met with a range of reactions, from incredulity to indifference to eager curiosity (again on Risai’s part).  Gresilda seemed to think that some of Erisaya’s rituals, and likely Yurisaya’s as well, were quite similar to what I described, and were likely of some ancient, shared origin.

Once we had debated what must be done, only Shassk declined to participate, stating that as a drakonae, he was already quite devoted to his draconic ancestors, and would have no trouble entering the vault once it was unlocked to the rest of us.  He said it with such conviction that I dared not say anything to the contrary; I know little of the drakonae and their modern religious practices, so I took him at his word. 

I won’t detail the nature of the ritual in my journal; that has already been done in my notes regarding the entirety of this expedition and the draconic city ruins, but needless to say, I remained the only one to be highly frustrated through shear arousal after the event, though my accessories did not hinder the ritual’s completion.  When it was done, the runes on the stones glowed and pulsed with the primal essence coursing through the earth beneath us, and we received the blessing as promised, a singular draconic rune upon our foreheads that roughly translates as “One Seeking Enlightenment”, which then faded from sight after a few moments.

Following another night’s rest, we would take the route Shassk had discovered that led to the southeast, hoping to finish a second ritual at the next site before returning to Vindinium to resupply before we continued our pilgrimage to the other locations that remained hidden from us. 

If only things had remained so simple as that.

#Lore24 – Entry #191 – Supers Month II #10 – Mines and Monsters

From the journal of Abigail “Sassy” Dawson, Mage of the Order of Hecate

A couple days later we’d ridden into the Black Hills area, and before long, we’d found where this thing had wanted us.  Weren’t hard to find, I suppose, considering there was a whole mining town that this thing had consumed for itself, leavin’ the bodies of the miners and townsfolk behind as mindless, walking corpses with a right fierce hunger for fresh meat.  It was grim work, but it had to be done, lest these diseased things spread their condition around the whole area.  Figure it was this demon’s plan to help tire us out before the real fight, cause while the zombies weren’t much of a threat to myself or my two ever-bickering companions, it did take us the better part of the day to clear’em out, even with Assane and Richard’s considerable magic.

We could sense the presence of the demon all over the place, and we knew exactly where it was hidin’, deep in the mines.  I never was one for the underground, and after this, I surely wouldn’t feel no better about goin’ into tight and dark places like’em.  Still, there was work to be done, and I weren’t goin’ to let a little thing like that stop me from dealin’ with that evil bastard.  We knew goin’ into the place it was gonna be dangerous, traps abound from the dynamite and sabotaged bracings and the like, no doubt.  My companions didn’t have so much to worry about if they mistepped down there, but I was under no such protections, and, as much of a handful as they are, it was rather touchin’ that they were bein’ extra careful on my account. 

Weren’t just traps in there, though; the demon had some more undead roamin’ the place, and as we got further down, some lesser demons it had called up, bunch of little imps and flyin’ things that were more or less balls of teeth that spat acid everywhere.  Was a good thing I knew some curin’ magic, cause I would’ve been right deaf before it was all said and done.  My magic reserves weren’t nothin’ like Assane’s and Richard’s, so I had to be careful with what I used up.  Not that I had a ton of powder on me at the time, so I had to be careful regardless, though my magically enhanced toothpick did its own fair share of the work down there.

So, it was slow goin’, and well into the night when we finally navigated our way through the maze of tunnels and drops into the deepest recesses where this thing had took up.  We knew we was close when we heard the chantin’ and saw the red glow in the dark of the tunnels ahead.  I hadn’t counted on there bein’ a cult of humans ‘round the demon, but of course, I weren’t as learned on them as I was followin’ this whole thing.  I could see the magic swirlin’ about and knew we was in for a rough time of it.  Still, we marched right in there, knowin’ what needed to be done and with some idea how to do it.  I was the weak link, bein’ the most inexperienced and the only one who could die permanently, but the pair, for all the trouble they had put me through, had taught me several tricks I’d never had thought up on my own.

Turns out, this demon, and its cult of worshippers, were after Richard.  I honestly weren’t surprised by this revelation, nor was Assane.  Turns out he’d been at the center of a nasty fire some years back that nearly wiped out some city over in England, and some of the wealthiest survivors were none too pleased that they’d been put out like they had.  So, they’d been nursin’ the grudge for a good thirty or more years, just tryin’ to track Richard down so they could kill’em off and had learned the dark arts to make sure that happened.  Assane was of a mind to leave them to it just to get it out of their system, but I ain’t for sure if she was just doin’ that to throw them off their guard or what. 

Needless to say, things got real messy, but it was the first time I’d seen Richard and Assane unleash their full elemental genie natures, turnin’ into bein’s of pure fire and ice.  These Limey cultists weren’t unskilled at what it was they were doin’, and the magic they’d warded the place with was provin’ difficult to deal with, but in the end, we managed to see it through.  In the heat of the moment, I didn’t think about it too much, cause my life was on the line, and who knew how many others if we didn’t kill this demon off, and in a moment of desperation, with my bullets expended and my magical reserves nearly exhausted, I called on that damn spell I’d learnt from Arrnor.  Don’t think that demon expected me to call out to another demon, and it certainly weren’t expectin’ what that spell did to it, but it did the trick, and let us do what was needed to banish that sucker back to its own little corner of the pits it had came from.  Think that spell might’ve broken the resolve of the cultists too, cause it weren’t much trouble to finish the clean up after that.

Sometimes you just gotta do what you gotta do, even if it ain’t always the smartest or best thing.  In the end, that demon got cast out of our world for a good long while, the cult that called it up got wiped out, and we made it back out without the whole place fallin’ in on us.  All in all, I’d call it a definite positive on the scale of things.  That event would lead me to the next big change in my life, which I’ll be getting’ to right shortly.

#Lore24 – Entry #190 – Supers Month II #9 – A Right Mess of Things

From the journal of Abigail “Sassy” Dawson, Mage of the Order of Hecate

Course, wouldn’t be long before Assane and Richard done decided to make things even worse for us.  We’d been on the trail of that demon for a couple more days when Richard up and stopped right there in the middle of the prairie round noon and declared he had the solution to the problem.  Assane and me were skeptical, and we didn’t hide that when we glanced at one another.  But then he told us his bright idea and I was floored, came just a hair fallin’ out of my saddle right there. 

“To catch this demon, we’ll need to summon one of our own!” he told us, and he was somehow sure we’d agree with him, judgin’ by that smile on his face.  I was the first to disagree, recovering myself enough to call him right crazy amongst a few other choice words.  Assane was a little less heated on the subject, as was her way, but it weren’t long before the pair were snarlin’ and snappin’ at one another again.  I rode on ahead just to get the two out of earshot for a while, and stayed that way the rest of the day, ever on the watch for signs of our target.  Never got sign that it was near, but had that feelin’ like it was still a watchin’ us, and we hadn’t spotted no carrion birds flyin’ around, so we hadn’t needed no other signs to guide us along, apparently.  We were generally headed northwest, and there were some rocky hills comin’ from what I could see.

Anyway, I stopped as the sun started goin’ down and waited on the two, and it weren’t long before I heard’em still arguin’ back and forth, but it weren’t about no demon this time, just which one they was gonna summon.  I couldn’t believe that Assane had been won over on the idea, but she just plainly told me he’d made a lot of good points.  Knowin’ this could only end bad, I likewise knew I couldn’t talk the two out of it after just a few minutes.  They fought all the time, but when they were in agreement, weren’t no force on this planet that could get them to change that. 

And so it was that I learnt the intricacies of summonin’ up a demon that night under the new moon, and no, I ain’t gonna detail it here.  That knowledge is forbidden for a reason, and this was just one of those times that called for extreme measures, I guess.  They assured me this demon was friendly with them, though, and that they’d dealt with it many times over the centuries.  Assane even called him a “lovable little scamp.” 

Well, I’d call it a little more on the goofy-lookin’ side personally.  This particular demon weren’t one of the big ones like I’d been thinkin’ they meant to call, this one was called Arrnor, and his head was bigger than his whole body, comedically large, to the point I just couldn’t make head nor tails of how he was possibly movin’ around on his own two legs.  Assane’d told me it was just because he had such a high opinion of himself and it had literally gone to his head, but I’m still not sure if she was jokin’ or not. 

When they started with the negotiations, I didn’t miss the fact that the two had started to strip down, and then when the demon’s eyes fell on me, I somehow was expected to do the same.  I put my foot down, right hard, and said I wouldn’t be party to none of their debauchery, but since I’d been there when they started up the ritual, I didn’t have no choice, lest I get us all dragged into the demon’s realm for a century of torment at his hands.  Needless to say, I weren’t happy, and told’em they should’ve stated the details clearly, only to be told they thought I knew already, and just shrugged it off like it were nothin’. 

I still regret that I learned of all this knowledge first hand, for Arrnor is a right indecent demon, even amongst his kind, I reckon.  See, whereas most demons will just kill and torment and drive people mad and such, Arrnor just likes to play, and knows all the most wretched of ways that get humans all worked up in ways that nobody ought know.  I ain’t proud to admit that the ritual was one of the most intensely pleasurable experiences in my life, nor am I proud that I was gifted with knowledge of his signature spell, one of the forbidden ones cause it taps into his essence to use…nor am I proud that all of us got to experience it for ourselves that night.

But, once we had come back to our senses, all tangled up in each other’s arms there on the prairie, we had the information we had been huntin’ for, and knew what it was we faced.  Maybe it was worth the price, and maybe it was worth the stain on my soul in the name of the greater good, but I’m still strugglin’ to work that one out.  Regardless, we set off, bound for the Black Hills, to face that monster and get the job done.

#Lore24 – Entry #189 – Supers Month II #8 – Hunting What Hunts You

From the journal of Abigail “Sassy” Dawson, Mage of the Order of Hecate

I ‘spose it were sometime in mid-spring, somewhere in the Nebraska or Dakota Territories when we had some trouble that weren’t of the normal variety.  We’d managed well enough to avoid trouble with the Indians, well, ‘ceptin’ that one incident, but that ain’t nothin’ to get into here.  My travelin’ companions were bickerin’ back and forth as they usually were when we was on long stretches between civilization, ‘bout something that happened back in the Dark Ages, I reckon, how it was Assane’s fault Richard got drawn and quartered for somethin’ she’d started, or somethin’ or other like that.  I was ridin’ on a little ways ahead just so me and Asher could have a little peace and quiet for a time when everythin’ went all deadly quiet. 

We was on alert, stopped cold in the middle of some old Indian trail in the middle of the woods when this feelin’ of dread just came rushin’ into me like nothin’ I’d ever felt before.  I had my pistol in one hand and a protection spell in the other before I knew what was goin’ on.  I scanned around the area with my mystic sight but didn’t see no signs that we’d come into one of them ‘bad places’ where things was known by the Indians to be unnatural.  Didn’t see no Indian signs aside from the trail in fact.  Asher couldn’t get a bearin’ on anythin’ either, and he was downright spooked like I ain’t never seen him before. 

As the two genies came back into earshot, they realized, for a wonder, that somethin’ was wrong, cause they were suddenly very alert when they saw me standin’ stock still on the trail, and had their own protections up.  They took to the air and split up to scout from above, but by then that dreadful feelin’ had started to fade, and a few minutes later, the sounds of nature started comin’ back.  When the two came back, they played it off as them spookin’ away whatever it was, but I could tell they was a little rattled by whatever had been there.

We’d get our first clue a bit further on down the trail that we was bein’ hunted by somethin’, and that it wanted us to know we was getting’ hunted.  We came up to a clearin’ in the hills, real idyllic little scene with a pond and a freshwater spring.  Well, it woulda been were it not for the pile of rottin’ meat we found on the shore and the smaller chunks floatin’ around the water.  I figure it must’ve been a whole herd of deer what were massacred there, and though they was rottin’ off the bone, it couldn’t have been done too long ago.  We set to cleanin’ up the mess, Richard burnin’ the corpses while Assane worked on purifyin’ the water.  Whatever had just come through ate a little of each one, the organs like the heart and liver and even the brains, but left most everything else.  Weren’t no messages left behind other than the bloody mess, but it wouldn’t be the last one of those we came upon.

Was maybe three or four days later when we ran up on that feelin’ again, drawin’ us to the north, only this time when we came up on the massacre, it were a bunch of Indians, maybe two dozen of them, all warriors.  They was missin’ the same parts as the deer were, but this time, instead of bein’ thrown all around, they was laid out deliberate-like, in some kind of dark ritual, their innards splayed out in specific ways, devilish signs made in their blood.  Worst part was they was all still alive somehow, cryin’ out in agony, even without their brains, it was like their spirits were still trapped in the bodies.

I hadn’t never seen nothin’ like that before, and couldn’t evern start to imagine what could’ve done it.  My companions had some thoughts about it, though, cause it was their job to know this kind of stuff, so they had told me many times, and for once they agreed it were some kind of demon runnin’ around, and likely sent after us by someone or somethin’ that we’d pissed off.  Most likely it was their fault, cause I didn’t reckon I’d done nothin’ to deserve that kinda attention just yet.  They was pretty sure it was leavin’ a trail for us to follow, just waitin’ for the right time to strike, when it was good and ready, meanin’ we had to somehow find it first.

It weren’t no happy trail we’d found ourselves on, that was for damn sure.