Firmhanded_Daddy
reborn in flame
- Joined
- Jan 11, 2010
- Posts
- 10,076
He had spent months preparing for this ceremony. Several trips to recover powerful tomes of ancient lore to reveal the power eldritch forces he would have to wrestle once the incantations were complete. He had memorized each and every ability the creature possessed and they were formidable. The magic powers alone of the demonic being were enough to be a danger to most mortals on the prime material plane, yet here he was alone planning to summon one and bind it in his laboratory; pure and utter madness.
Then there were the physical dangers. Her claws could pierce plate armor like cloth, they were smart and devious as a demon could come and well it was a demon designed to allure; that was her most formidable weapon of all. Never having seen a live succubus, only renderings and descriptions they varied and he imagined that not every demon had the same look about her. One thing was made quite clear however in each description, they were built to provoke sin and carnal desire in mortals; to make the body betray mind, and soul.
He traced the last of the runes into the smooth marble floor with the silver and mithril powder and leaned back to study his work with an expert eye. He compared it to the five separate sketches that he had obtained of the binding circle. One thing troubled him, a single rune was out of place in this fifth drawing, it was flipped inversely and that could mean the difference between life and death. Was this the only magus to contain the lust demon, or was he one bent to her will and compelled to publish incorrect information to fuel more foolish mortals to follow in his footsteps.
He had chose to believe this man had solved the riddle and flipped the symbol, it was a gamble, but he this was only the binding circle for permanency. The redundant circles of protection should hold her long enough to allow him to banish her if his gamble was wrong, and all it would cost him was months worth of work and fifty thousand gold worth of spell components. He tried not to think about that now.
He slid out of his robes and stood in front of the large full size mirror, examining the runes of protection scrawled upon his flesh. Each rune had a protection spell imbued within it and then magically bound on his skin. It would protect him from her various magical attacks if everything else failed. Everything from charm spells to magical holding spells. He thought he had played this chess game thirty moves ahead, and yet still there was a hollow pit in the center of his stomach. A small part of him quaked in dread, even as the greater part of him exalted with the thrill of conquest. He examined his muscular frame one more time and then with a deep breath stepped out of the pool of robes.
His nude form was illuminated by the dancing torch lights that gave off no smoke nor odor; such things were a trivial cantrip to a magus of his skill. He pulled a small jar of viscous, creamy fluid that had been warming over a candle near by and he poured it in the center of the ring of binding. The smell of his stored seed was pungent, it had taken him time to store the required amount for the spell. If one wanted to catch a shark, one must place chum in the water after all. He set the jar outside the circle, careful not to disturb the powdered runes. He brandished a straight bladed obsidian dagger with his other hand and drew it across a bare part of his forearm, careful not to damage himself in a place that would hinder his casting ability, nor disrupt the runic protections he had painstakingly placed. His blood mixed with his own seed upon the floor.
He stepped out of the circle and wrapped a cloth around his wound and for a brief moment watched the blood pool, before tying it off with his free hand, and mouth.
Setting his jaw with determination he mentally ran his mind over the spell one final time and then raised his hands. Tracing delicate patterns in the air he spoke in a low, haunting tone the harsh words in the infernal tongue. The words were guttural and sounded like a mixture of a snarling wolf, and a grunting gorilla. The words came faster as he felt the magic take hold in his blood, it swept through him and he could not help feel his excitement grow with it. Standing there in his nudity, knowing what he was about to summon, his manhood stiffened to half mast. The runes burned a harsh white color and the turned solid in the floor rather than a powder, as if they were letters carved in stone. The offerings he had left for her vibrated as if reacting to an unseen presence.
That was when the world split open. He had done it! With the power of his will and his magic he had ripped a tear in the prime material plane to the burning hells. The smell of sulfur struck him so hard that it almost made him gag and lose the spell. He managed to continue his harsh chanting and that was when he heard a soft, feminine chuckle that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. The voice was inhuman, it had an eerie echo to it as if it were reverberating off the inside of his skull and coming back out of his ears. Oh she was not hear yet, she was playing with him, testing his resolve. If she could get him to break the spell in mid cast she could escape the bindings and she knew it. So did he…
He curled his toes into the cold cobblestone as he felt her presence. She was not physically material yet, the summoning was still working, but already the game had begun. He could smell the scent of her skin and hear barely audible promises; words he could not quite make out, but he strained to hear. He realized the trap even as his length hardened further at the sound of her voice.
He snapped his eyes shut and snarled out the words of the spell, attempting to shut out the sound of her feminine voice, it was more human sounding now, and just before he had closed his eyes he could see a silhouette of a humanoid shape standing inside the circle. Now he could clearly hear her voice, it was as solid and real as if she were speaking from the next room.
He felt the magic surge into place and grow taught like a rope. He closed both hands into fists and one rune turned from solid white to bright red like iron in a hot forge, then it turned blue, then next one followed suit. Each rune repeated until every rune was a navy blue color on the floor.
His shoulders slumped from the effort, and there was sweat on his face, the casting had been one of the most difficult and taxing spells he had ever cast, so much so that he had only been able to commit it, and a few minor cantrips to memory. For someone of his skill level that spoke volumes of the difficulty of this spell. He did not linger in his nudity, reaching down to scoop up his robes, he tugged them around his shoulders and tied them loosely around his waist. It was not modesty that compelled him to do this, but the runes on his body could give away what protections he had placed upon him if she had any knowledge of spell craft and time to study them. He had no desire to tip his hand. Mopping lightly at his face he stepped forward to face his captive and spoke softly. “Welcome to your new home.”
Then there were the physical dangers. Her claws could pierce plate armor like cloth, they were smart and devious as a demon could come and well it was a demon designed to allure; that was her most formidable weapon of all. Never having seen a live succubus, only renderings and descriptions they varied and he imagined that not every demon had the same look about her. One thing was made quite clear however in each description, they were built to provoke sin and carnal desire in mortals; to make the body betray mind, and soul.
He traced the last of the runes into the smooth marble floor with the silver and mithril powder and leaned back to study his work with an expert eye. He compared it to the five separate sketches that he had obtained of the binding circle. One thing troubled him, a single rune was out of place in this fifth drawing, it was flipped inversely and that could mean the difference between life and death. Was this the only magus to contain the lust demon, or was he one bent to her will and compelled to publish incorrect information to fuel more foolish mortals to follow in his footsteps.
He had chose to believe this man had solved the riddle and flipped the symbol, it was a gamble, but he this was only the binding circle for permanency. The redundant circles of protection should hold her long enough to allow him to banish her if his gamble was wrong, and all it would cost him was months worth of work and fifty thousand gold worth of spell components. He tried not to think about that now.
He slid out of his robes and stood in front of the large full size mirror, examining the runes of protection scrawled upon his flesh. Each rune had a protection spell imbued within it and then magically bound on his skin. It would protect him from her various magical attacks if everything else failed. Everything from charm spells to magical holding spells. He thought he had played this chess game thirty moves ahead, and yet still there was a hollow pit in the center of his stomach. A small part of him quaked in dread, even as the greater part of him exalted with the thrill of conquest. He examined his muscular frame one more time and then with a deep breath stepped out of the pool of robes.
His nude form was illuminated by the dancing torch lights that gave off no smoke nor odor; such things were a trivial cantrip to a magus of his skill. He pulled a small jar of viscous, creamy fluid that had been warming over a candle near by and he poured it in the center of the ring of binding. The smell of his stored seed was pungent, it had taken him time to store the required amount for the spell. If one wanted to catch a shark, one must place chum in the water after all. He set the jar outside the circle, careful not to disturb the powdered runes. He brandished a straight bladed obsidian dagger with his other hand and drew it across a bare part of his forearm, careful not to damage himself in a place that would hinder his casting ability, nor disrupt the runic protections he had painstakingly placed. His blood mixed with his own seed upon the floor.
He stepped out of the circle and wrapped a cloth around his wound and for a brief moment watched the blood pool, before tying it off with his free hand, and mouth.
Setting his jaw with determination he mentally ran his mind over the spell one final time and then raised his hands. Tracing delicate patterns in the air he spoke in a low, haunting tone the harsh words in the infernal tongue. The words were guttural and sounded like a mixture of a snarling wolf, and a grunting gorilla. The words came faster as he felt the magic take hold in his blood, it swept through him and he could not help feel his excitement grow with it. Standing there in his nudity, knowing what he was about to summon, his manhood stiffened to half mast. The runes burned a harsh white color and the turned solid in the floor rather than a powder, as if they were letters carved in stone. The offerings he had left for her vibrated as if reacting to an unseen presence.
That was when the world split open. He had done it! With the power of his will and his magic he had ripped a tear in the prime material plane to the burning hells. The smell of sulfur struck him so hard that it almost made him gag and lose the spell. He managed to continue his harsh chanting and that was when he heard a soft, feminine chuckle that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. The voice was inhuman, it had an eerie echo to it as if it were reverberating off the inside of his skull and coming back out of his ears. Oh she was not hear yet, she was playing with him, testing his resolve. If she could get him to break the spell in mid cast she could escape the bindings and she knew it. So did he…
He curled his toes into the cold cobblestone as he felt her presence. She was not physically material yet, the summoning was still working, but already the game had begun. He could smell the scent of her skin and hear barely audible promises; words he could not quite make out, but he strained to hear. He realized the trap even as his length hardened further at the sound of her voice.
He snapped his eyes shut and snarled out the words of the spell, attempting to shut out the sound of her feminine voice, it was more human sounding now, and just before he had closed his eyes he could see a silhouette of a humanoid shape standing inside the circle. Now he could clearly hear her voice, it was as solid and real as if she were speaking from the next room.
He felt the magic surge into place and grow taught like a rope. He closed both hands into fists and one rune turned from solid white to bright red like iron in a hot forge, then it turned blue, then next one followed suit. Each rune repeated until every rune was a navy blue color on the floor.
His shoulders slumped from the effort, and there was sweat on his face, the casting had been one of the most difficult and taxing spells he had ever cast, so much so that he had only been able to commit it, and a few minor cantrips to memory. For someone of his skill level that spoke volumes of the difficulty of this spell. He did not linger in his nudity, reaching down to scoop up his robes, he tugged them around his shoulders and tied them loosely around his waist. It was not modesty that compelled him to do this, but the runes on his body could give away what protections he had placed upon him if she had any knowledge of spell craft and time to study them. He had no desire to tip his hand. Mopping lightly at his face he stepped forward to face his captive and spoke softly. “Welcome to your new home.”