A Sharpe Dressed Sword, Quick and Painless

PixelatedGlory

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@WuffyWuff

Sometimes a book exudes a certain aura, an unidentifiable sense of what kinds of things might be contained within. A black leather tome scarred and torn might hold ancient evils or a finely printed textbook might hold only the sagest of wisdom to be visited upon those readers lucky enough to draw their eyes upon it's cover. This was not the case for the current book.

No, this was a fairly simple brown leather bound journal that had been tucked away in a dusty portion of a used bookstore. The worn pentagram engraved upon the cover belied the main purpose of this small vessel of knowledge, but then demonic magics were not uncommon to residents of Manta Carlos. The book knew not why Isstar had selected if from among it's peers, but that was normal for a book. Books don't think and don't reason. They simply hold the scribblings of those who previously owned them or the mas produced printings of some company or another.

But there was useful information in those pages. Descriptions of large circles and geometric shapes carefully drawn or carved into the ground. Candles placed at each convergence of the lines, leaving limited space inside for the weaver of such a ritual and their offering. Normally the words needed for the ritual would take years of study to perfect but countless previous owners of the book had left notes in the margins. Tips and advice, phonetic descriptions for the very sounds of the words. The chant wasn't easy but was still doable. This was, after all, one of the lesser rituals written within the pages. A good choice for testing out a first ritual of this nature. If one were reckless and impatient enough to do so without proper study of demonic magic.

So it went, that a figure had prepared their supplies and trudged out into the woods late at night where they might attempt something foolish. The ritual set up, and ready for the young dragon to begin.
 

Wuffy

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Feb 16, 2018
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Isstar had begun research in demonic contracts fairly soon after he moved to the main island. After all, he had heard that a contract could extend his lifespan. He hadn't trusted the Rukt'Ins enough with finding a way to extend his lifespand. Although the dragon was initially made to not care about death, his life on the island made him fear it. Isstar didn't want to die. From what he could tell, the other Rukt'Ins weren't even doing anything, so when he found the journal he thought it was his lucky day. He wasn't experienced with demonic contracts or magic. More or less, he just knew that typically a contract would be forged after an exchange. But Isstar figured that it would be worth a try.

Even with the notes from previous owners, it took Isstar a while to decide which ritual to go with. In the end, he went for one that seemed smaller than the others. He thought it would just summon any random demon, not a specific one in mind. He told no one, went to the forest late at night, and set it up using the instructions in the journal. He checked it multiple times once he thought the ritual was setup, then gave a nod with a sigh. Seemed about as right as he would ever get it.

Next, Isstar removed a small piece of paper out of the journal. It was one he had put in when he decided the ritual he would do. On it was the the incantation he had to speak. The notes were helpful for him to learn how to speak the incantation, but he had written it out to help him memorise it better. The writing was surprisingly neat for the usually impatient and aggressive teenager. Finally, Isstar started to speak the incantation. He decided to focus reading from the paper rather than the ritual, he knew that whatever happened while he spoke could distract him.
 

PixelatedGlory

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At first it was just Isstar reciting words from a language he didnt understand into the uncaring darkness of night. But with each successfully pronounced word a small pressure started to be felt within and around him. Like the air itself was becoming thicker and denser. The candles flickered and then his words took on a new sound. Harsh unnatural echoes that he himself didnt utter and yet they still cut the night around him.

A shapeless figure. No, more of a presence wrought of smoke and shadows formed within the center of the ritual circle. But this felt wrong. There were no words at first- merely a concept. An idea shoved forcefully into Isstar's mind. He had followed the instructions but neglected to leave an offer satisfactory enough to complete the ritual properly.

The vague shape of shadows and smoke slowly drifted towards Isstar. And then it used words in his mind that he could understand. "You have drawn our attention. You wish for a deal to enrich your life... but what do you offer? Wasting our time is... foolish."
 

Wuffy

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Isstar focused on speaking the words, even with the growing pressure he felt. Anxiety crept into his chest as the pressure increased. It felt similar to when he was about to fight Liun, anxiety. But Isstar would have to rate this higher. This was wrong, something with this was wrong. However, he made himself continue speaking.

The form... appeared. Isstar couldn’t ignore what was happening anymore. His eyes widened slightly, jaw clenched and his shoulders tensed up. Every part of him was prepared to be defensive. He tried to not let whatever he’d just summoned see the anxiety that he felt. So that was what made this feel wrong, well maybe not exactly, but Isstar hadn’t completed it properly.

As the form approached him, Isstar took a reactionary step back before he forced himself to stand his ground. Then, Isstar gave the shape a hard glare, in at least an attempt to seem more confident than he was. “Well... I didn’t see anywhere I had to offer anything. Maybe should make your... weird, old journal notes clearer, hmm?” Isstar crossed his arms as he shook his head. Seemed his idea of being more confident in the face of possible danger was by being sarcastic.
 

PixelatedGlory

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As time continued there was definitely a sense of... annoyance. Or oppressive unhappiness beginning to roll over the area. Isstar was meddling in things he didn't understand fully and had made a very foolish mistake.

A second and third form drifted up from the edges of the ritual circle.

Three disembodied voices reached out in his head to express their dissatisfaction. "You continue to waste time. Offer something for a deal to be struck or do not. You lose favor for every second you waste and your death draws nearer."

The figures disappeared but the angry pressure on Isstar only continued to increase. Like the feeling of heavy hands pressing down on his whole body. But inside his head instead of on his actual body.
 
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