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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 548917" data-attributes="member: 143">Happy holidays to all my readers, and may peace be with you all.    And since nothing says "Merry Christmas" better than summoning demons, here's another seasonal holiday update:* * * * * Book VII, Part 18Guthan stood in the mouth of the opening that was bored into the face of the cliff, and looked out over the valley.  He thought of it as his valley, had developed a sense of ownership over the long months since the dreams and messages had led him here.  The remains of the camps were still visible; the presence of that many creatures could not be removed quickly or easily from the land.  Now there were only a handful of hobgoblins left, the bulk of them having departed the day before along with the trolls and giants.  Guthan felt well rid of them, particularly those infuriating beasts who had the temerity to call themselves “clerics,” and think themselves his equal.  Guthan snorted and turned away from the valley, toward the dark maw that penetrated some distance into the solid mass of the cliff.  He’d been tempted to disabuse them of that notion, to put them in their place, but he needed them, and so he’d had to accept the limited deference that his standing gave him.  Soon, though, things would change, and all would grant him the respect that he deserved. His bootsteps echoed through the dark, empty space.  He needed no light to guide him, not in this place.  He felt a tingle as he passed through the protective wards—some his own, and some more ancient—and traversed the long stair that gave way to his destination.Here he could see clearly, although there was no light to speak of, but rather a black haze that somehow outlined every tiny detail to his senses.  He didn’t bother to try to understand how it worked or why; asking too many questions here, even in the privacy of one’s own thoughts, could be dangerous.  The chamber was spacious, and seemed even larger than it was.  Perhaps it was because it had a way of making him feel small, insignificant, no matter how many times he came here.  Guthan had no idea if that was a magical effect or just a byproduct of what he knew about this place, but as always he merely steeled his thoughts and stepped forward toward what he sought.  His eyes were drawn inevitably toward the thing that dominated the chamber, across from him near the wall opposite the entry.  The stone archway was freestanding, a good ten paces away from the wall, formed of stones piled one atop the other until they met in an uneven curve twenty paces above the ground.  There was no way that the arch should have remained standing, not with the way that the stones fit together so precariously, as if carelessly stacked by a child.  The arch was filled with a perfectly flat plane of what looked like gray stone, marbled with dark red striations that formed a web of interconnecting lines.  There was no pattern to that web, only a chaotic and twisting maze that seemed to draw in the eye, promising a headache if you stared too long.  Perhaps most disconcerting, if one walked around the arch one would find that the gray surface appeared identical from the far side,set deep within the arch, although that would mean that the surface could only be at best a finger’s thickness throughout.  Before the arch, easily missed unless one looked for it, a squat pedestal of plain black stone rose up out of the floor, at most a foot square and coming up to just above a man’s waist in height. Guthan tore his gaze away from the arch and looked down at the floor before him.  The black stone stretched before him in a smooth plane, but in the center of the chamber, glowing in the strange sight granted by this place, there was a circle cut into the floor.  Its purpose was immediately visible in the runes that outlined the circle in twin rings, in the lines that intersected to form a five-sided shape five paces across in its core. A summoning circle. The circle was perfect, burned into the stone itself, but Guthan still spent long minutes examining it carefully for the faintest blemish.  Finally, he returned to the place at the head of the circle—though there was no apparent way to distinguish one part of the ring from another, somehow he just knew where he must stand—and began to incant.  The darkness around him began to pulse with his words, twisted syllables that seemed torn from his lips, words that no mere mortal man were ever meant to speak.  The ritual went on for long minutes that each stretched on endlessly, but Guthan, lost in the power that swelled through and around him at his call, was unaware of the passing of time until the final word had faded into silence.     When the spell was complete, he stood there, panting, feeling as if he’d run a mile in armor.  Not that he could, not any more; he’d once been strong and hale, but his new... calling had demanded a heavy physical price.  A worthwhile trade, for the power he now commanded.The air within the circle began to coalesce, forming a blackness that seemed to pulse in harmony with the dark aura of the chamber.  Then it took on form, roiling in a fetid cloud that drew itself ever tighter until it solidified into something tangible.  Guthan drew in a breath as he regarded the thing that stood there, facing him.  It loomed over him like the vulture that resembled, flexing its wings within the limited space enclosed within the summoning diagram.  A dark and alien intelligence shone within eyes that bored into Guthan the way that a bird might look at a worm it had uncovered in the dust.A vrock.  He’d never summoned anything so powerful before, and the sense of it filled him both with excitement and fear that surged through him in an exhilarating rush. “Release me,” it said, its voice cutting through his head like a hot blade.“A moment,” Guthan said, glad that he was able to speak despite the cascading emotions he felt within him.  “First, demon, we must confirm the bargain between us, the commands of He that we both serve...”“I know who I serve, thrall, and I understand my purpose in being sent to this flyspeck of a plane.  Now, release me, before I grow impatient.”Trying—and not succeeding—to remain calm, the priest stepped forward, placing his boot across one of the outer lines of the circle.  As soon as the leather touched the line etched into the stone, the demon surged forward and loomed over him, close enough so that its fetid breath poured over him like a wave.  To his credit, Guthan stood his ground, but it was more because he was paralyzed with fear than anything else. But the demon did not touch him; in fact, it laughed, a warped chuckle that sent tremors down his spine.  “Perhaps some day we can meet on my plane, manling,” it said, chuckling again before it turned toward the exit.  It had barely covered five paces, though, before it turned and regarded him once more.  “I am charged to give you a message, thrall.  In three days’ time, you will conduct another summoning.  You will call upon the succubus G’hael, who will give you further instructions.”  For a moment, the demon shifted its gaze, to regard the silent stone arch, but it snapped its eyes back on Guthan before the priest could look away.  The demon laughed again, a soft chuckle, then turned and spread its wings, vanishing before it had even taken a single step.  Guthan let out a breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.  He trembled with the intensity of feeling unleashed by what he’d just experienced, and when he took a step toward the exit his legs gave out, dropping him unceremonially to the hard stone floor.   For a time, he just sat there, until a laugh broke his lips, a sound that grew into an uncontrolled torrent of laughter and tears that went on for a long time.  Somehow, it sounded even worse than the demon’s otherworldly chuckling.</blockquote>

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