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Description
You’ve done it! After months of painstaking research, scouring the internet for arcane reagents, and translations for the arcane glyphs in this black book, you’ve at last assembled what you need to complete the summoning ritual. On this night of the dark lunar princess, you will be able to summon your very own succubus.
As the wind howls outside, you turn to the table, book in one hand, the bowl of magical ingredients in another. The lines of arcane power are inscribed across the table, inert. That will change.
Slowly, with rhythmic purpose, you begin to chant the words of power that will initiate the ritual.
The arcane lines on the table light up, a low humming filling the room and drowning out even the howling winds outside. The ingredients inside the bowl start to glow - as per the book’s instructions, you place them in the centre of the table. Immediately, surges of power flow along the lines, pulsing their way to the bowl and causing the crystals and other objects inside to thrum as well, flickering and beating like a magical heart.
You continue to recant the incantation, the reciting the words from memory even though you hold the book in your hand. The humming intensifies, the glow brightens, and the pulse quickens. Outside, the howling of the wind returns, but with an unearthly screaming - this is no natural storm.
As you reach the climax of the ritual, the table lights up blindingly, the storm outside threatening to tear the walls of the building down. Suddenly, the surface of the table bursts into flame, but this is no ordinary flame - it climbs higher and higher, feeding on some unseen fuel, until it is taller than any man or pony you’ve ever seen. And deep within the flames, you see a dark figure begin to emerge…
After a few seconds - or perhaps it was an eternity - the flames begin to die down, then slowly flicker and die, leaving the table unblemished, the arcane lines gone, the bowl of ingredients vanished without a trace. And hovering mere inches above the surface, wings and arms outstretched, staring down at you with a sultry grin… is the succubus.
She opens her mouth, and with a voice both captivating yet chilling the bone, she speaks:
“Pl̶ed͜ge ͏ỳour soul͡ ̕u̸ntơ ͡me̕,̴ m̧o̷rta͜l, an͏d ͡I҉ ̡sh̨a̧ll̷ ̢b̴e̵st͘ow ̴u҉p̵on you ͢car̛n͝a͠l ̧p͠ass̕i͏o͢ns of t̕he ̴fl̕e͘sh unįm̕ag̸ín͟abl҉e.͠..”
It’s going to be a wild Nightmare Night…
As the wind howls outside, you turn to the table, book in one hand, the bowl of magical ingredients in another. The lines of arcane power are inscribed across the table, inert. That will change.
Slowly, with rhythmic purpose, you begin to chant the words of power that will initiate the ritual.
The arcane lines on the table light up, a low humming filling the room and drowning out even the howling winds outside. The ingredients inside the bowl start to glow - as per the book’s instructions, you place them in the centre of the table. Immediately, surges of power flow along the lines, pulsing their way to the bowl and causing the crystals and other objects inside to thrum as well, flickering and beating like a magical heart.
You continue to recant the incantation, the reciting the words from memory even though you hold the book in your hand. The humming intensifies, the glow brightens, and the pulse quickens. Outside, the howling of the wind returns, but with an unearthly screaming - this is no natural storm.
As you reach the climax of the ritual, the table lights up blindingly, the storm outside threatening to tear the walls of the building down. Suddenly, the surface of the table bursts into flame, but this is no ordinary flame - it climbs higher and higher, feeding on some unseen fuel, until it is taller than any man or pony you’ve ever seen. And deep within the flames, you see a dark figure begin to emerge…
After a few seconds - or perhaps it was an eternity - the flames begin to die down, then slowly flicker and die, leaving the table unblemished, the arcane lines gone, the bowl of ingredients vanished without a trace. And hovering mere inches above the surface, wings and arms outstretched, staring down at you with a sultry grin… is the succubus.
She opens her mouth, and with a voice both captivating yet chilling the bone, she speaks:
“Pl̶ed͜ge ͏ỳour soul͡ ̕u̸ntơ ͡me̕,̴ m̧o̷rta͜l, an͏d ͡I҉ ̡sh̨a̧ll̷ ̢b̴e̵st͘ow ̴u҉p̵on you ͢car̛n͝a͠l ̧p͠ass̕i͏o͢ns of t̕he ̴fl̕e͘sh unįm̕ag̸ín͟abl҉e.͠..”
It’s going to be a wild Nightmare Night…
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