Post by Lone Dancer on Mar 23, 2023 5:13:22 GMT
In the past, his hands might’ve been shaky from in-experience and fear. But now, his hands were that of an experienced demon summoner. Each line on the floor practiced a thousand times over. Smooth, careful, elegant.
He was ruminating on a recent find—a book detailing summoning a powerful entity. The instructions and some phrasings were odd, but the results were worth it, it promised. Besides, he’s summoned from sketchier sources. Good manuals were hard to come by in this economy.
Obtaining some of the resources required was no easy feat, but he had his sources. Every good summoner did. Setting down the chalk behind him, clapping the dust off his hands, he was careful not to disturb the protective circle. In almost every case where a summoner died, it was because of a faulty circle.
He would not let himself be counted among those statistics. One mis-drawn line and there was nothing but metaphorical tissue paper between you and an opportunist demon. Words he repeated to himself every time he did this.
Triple checking his work, he confirmed a lack of flaws. Now the fun part was about to begin, where he would have to recite a chant. But this is where it got truly odd. In most cases, the verbal component of summoning a demon involved saying their name in the infernal language of Hell. In this case, what he needed to say was a nursery rhyme, if he could call it that, in Common.
It was almost enough to put him off, but while a cautious summoner was an alive summoner, one that was too cautious never advanced in life.
Cracking his neck side to side in preparation, he began reciting the words inside his head.
Baroness o’ Baroness dancing in thy fields
Come observe this offering I present in yield
So that thy powers that I may wield
Baroness o’ Baroness now come unsealed
Easier on the vocal cords, at least. Shaking his head once more, he cleared his throat. Sure, he was ready. He recited the verses aloud. The words had a weight to them he didn’t expect, one that got stronger with every word spoken. He did his best to remain calm and not mess up a single utterance.
After the last syllable left his lips, there was a change in the air. Instead of brimstone, the scent of pine and oak brushed against his nose. That was… not good. The lack of a portal forged from hellfire or the celestial rays if he somehow accidentally summoned an Angel was even more concerning.
Because that meant whatever this was, was an unknown. But he stood there, transfixed as tiny little mushrooms began to dot up from underneath the floorboards, forming a perfect ring. Old legends danced in the back of his mind. And then it was there.
Lacking the dramatic entrance of Demons where they made an entire show about crawling out of the hellfire, the figure before him just simply arrived.
But that soon changed. Black beads the size of baseballs sat in their sockets. The thing’s mouth began to curl upward in a smile, showing needle-esque teeth. It looked down at him. And it spoke.
The Fae are beautiful, yes? Its voice had three layers to it. A young boy, an old woman, and the snapping of branches. Its enrobed form drifted in his direction, brushing past his carefully crafted protective circle.
It now stood directly in front of him, its head craning down.
Are you afraid? Its question was simple, but his mouth was dryer than his beloved chalk. The Fae before him tilted their head.
Fear must be such an odd thing to experience.
Finally he was able to muster up a response.
“What do you want.”
Simple introduction. When in a business relationship, names are nice. Can I have your name?
Their words were innocent enough but he didn’t trust them. It continued to loom over him. The long sleeves swayed to some invisible wind as it pressed its arms together.
My time is far more valuable than yours, don’t make me wait.
His mind was racing, conjuring up a reply that wouldn’t end up with him either dead in a ditch or removed from reality. Thankfully, dealing with demons gave him experience in these matters. Typically though, he had the safety of the circle to work with.
“You can know my name but not have it. It’s-”
He found a long finger pressed against his lips. It was frigid, sapping the heat from his skin.
If I can’t have it, I don’t care to know it. But for posterity’s sake, you should refer to me as the Baroness.
It withdrew the slender finger back into its sleeve. He couldn’t resist and felt his lips. There was frost on his hands when he pulled back. He shuddered, and it wasn’t from the cold.
For humans, smiling is seen as a sign of friendliness, no? Its smile grew wider as it flitted to this new topic, before switching to another without giving him a chance to respond.
Well, what is your business.
He took a step back, finding it hard to breathe being so close to it. Something about its presence made it feel like an anvil was on his back.
“I wanted help.” He didn’t want to be too specific, leaving him room to change his original intentions.
Narrow it down more.
Whelp, there went that plan.
“I summoned you to go kill someone.”
The Baroness tsked, shaking its head.
Why should I kill for you? Violence is the way of savages. But then again, what more can one expect from humans.
It was drifting closer again before his second worst fear happened.
Someone knocked on his door.
“Oi, Richard. Come on man, you owe me~e~e. Hiding won’t get you far.” The voice was muffled behind the door, albeit distinct. The knocking got louder.
“Open the door your bastard before I break it open.” The voice continued. But the threats had a benefit. It drew the attention of the Fae off of him, causing them to turn around in a graceful motion, causing their dress and cloak to swish.
The knocking ended at this point. Now, something was pounding on the door. The wood gave way quickly to a giant fist covered in red skin. The rest of the arm forced its way in, before pulling the door back off its hinges.
As the dust settled, the now door-free doorway revealed two figures. A human and a demon. Mainly a very recognizable human. Bulky, bald, and with an eyepatch, the scars, and burns that covered their skin bespoke of a history of violence. Remi.
“Well, Richard, didn’t want it to come this way, but everyone has to pay up. Now, hand ove-”
While I am conducting business, every other obligation the other party has is considered null and void. Leave.
Demon? You are greatly mistaken. A show of ignorance on your part. In my kindness, I will rectify this for you.
Their words were calm but there was a tone of unbelievable offense to them. They waved a sleeve, and reality had a dizzying moment of bending in on itself. Remi didn’t even have time to scream before multiple sets of poppies began to emerge from his orifices, dyed red by his own blood. Gurgling as plants grew out of his mouth and eyes, blooming at a rapid, unnatural speed. From his chest, a rose bush ripped out, the sound of flesh tearing and the crackling of branches juxtaposed with one another.
Copper mixed with sweet perfume seeped into the air, showing the demon suffered a similar fate. Their flowers were a hellish orange instead of a crimson bloody red.
Richard was currently in the process of keeping what scraps of lunch he had earlier in his stomach. The sounds were stuck on repeat inside his head. The tearing and the gurgling.
It is nice to change something ugly into something beautiful, yes?
He turned to face the Baroness. Their smile was the widest it had been yet. He slowly nodded, not trusting himself to open his mouth without hurling yet.
Wonderful that you agree. Now, that the interruption is over, we should return to business matters.
He found his words again. He had a slight cough.
“That, uh, was the business.”
The Baroness blinked, the first time it had done so during the entire meeting.
Oh.
It recentered its sights on him.
Well, it appears that you now owe me now instead. And remember, when I come knocking for business, I consider every other obligation null and void.
As they spoke, they leaned closer to him, to the point where he could feel their icy breath. They stood up straight once more.
Enjoy my parting gift, Richard.
With that, his attention was drawn back to the two bodies in the room. Or what was left of them. What remained was just flowers. In the back of his mind, something acknowledged the Baroness was right. They were beautiful. Their origin, less so. And then there was the fact the Baroness referred to him as name.
And as he expected, turning back, the Fae was gone. The mushrooms as well. And his protective circle. And all the other left over supplies that he didn't expend. Richard began massaging his scalp.
“Fuck.”
He was ruminating on a recent find—a book detailing summoning a powerful entity. The instructions and some phrasings were odd, but the results were worth it, it promised. Besides, he’s summoned from sketchier sources. Good manuals were hard to come by in this economy.
Obtaining some of the resources required was no easy feat, but he had his sources. Every good summoner did. Setting down the chalk behind him, clapping the dust off his hands, he was careful not to disturb the protective circle. In almost every case where a summoner died, it was because of a faulty circle.
He would not let himself be counted among those statistics. One mis-drawn line and there was nothing but metaphorical tissue paper between you and an opportunist demon. Words he repeated to himself every time he did this.
Triple checking his work, he confirmed a lack of flaws. Now the fun part was about to begin, where he would have to recite a chant. But this is where it got truly odd. In most cases, the verbal component of summoning a demon involved saying their name in the infernal language of Hell. In this case, what he needed to say was a nursery rhyme, if he could call it that, in Common.
It was almost enough to put him off, but while a cautious summoner was an alive summoner, one that was too cautious never advanced in life.
Cracking his neck side to side in preparation, he began reciting the words inside his head.
Baroness o’ Baroness dancing in thy fields
Come observe this offering I present in yield
So that thy powers that I may wield
Baroness o’ Baroness now come unsealed
Easier on the vocal cords, at least. Shaking his head once more, he cleared his throat. Sure, he was ready. He recited the verses aloud. The words had a weight to them he didn’t expect, one that got stronger with every word spoken. He did his best to remain calm and not mess up a single utterance.
After the last syllable left his lips, there was a change in the air. Instead of brimstone, the scent of pine and oak brushed against his nose. That was… not good. The lack of a portal forged from hellfire or the celestial rays if he somehow accidentally summoned an Angel was even more concerning.
Because that meant whatever this was, was an unknown. But he stood there, transfixed as tiny little mushrooms began to dot up from underneath the floorboards, forming a perfect ring. Old legends danced in the back of his mind. And then it was there.
Lacking the dramatic entrance of Demons where they made an entire show about crawling out of the hellfire, the figure before him just simply arrived.
Dressed in a flowing verdant gown that covered their legs and arms, seemingly composed of woven grass with a cloak of leaves that rested on their shoulders. Upon their head was something vaguely appearing like a nightcap, a little puff at the end included. The figure was taller than them, with a massive head with closed eyes, and a neck far too thin to support it.
The Fae are beautiful, yes? Its voice had three layers to it. A young boy, an old woman, and the snapping of branches. Its enrobed form drifted in his direction, brushing past his carefully crafted protective circle.
It now stood directly in front of him, its head craning down.
Are you afraid? Its question was simple, but his mouth was dryer than his beloved chalk. The Fae before him tilted their head.
Fear must be such an odd thing to experience.
Finally he was able to muster up a response.
“What do you want.”
Simple introduction. When in a business relationship, names are nice. Can I have your name?
Their words were innocent enough but he didn’t trust them. It continued to loom over him. The long sleeves swayed to some invisible wind as it pressed its arms together.
My time is far more valuable than yours, don’t make me wait.
His mind was racing, conjuring up a reply that wouldn’t end up with him either dead in a ditch or removed from reality. Thankfully, dealing with demons gave him experience in these matters. Typically though, he had the safety of the circle to work with.
“You can know my name but not have it. It’s-”
He found a long finger pressed against his lips. It was frigid, sapping the heat from his skin.
If I can’t have it, I don’t care to know it. But for posterity’s sake, you should refer to me as the Baroness.
It withdrew the slender finger back into its sleeve. He couldn’t resist and felt his lips. There was frost on his hands when he pulled back. He shuddered, and it wasn’t from the cold.
For humans, smiling is seen as a sign of friendliness, no? Its smile grew wider as it flitted to this new topic, before switching to another without giving him a chance to respond.
Well, what is your business.
He took a step back, finding it hard to breathe being so close to it. Something about its presence made it feel like an anvil was on his back.
“I wanted help.” He didn’t want to be too specific, leaving him room to change his original intentions.
Narrow it down more.
Whelp, there went that plan.
“I summoned you to go kill someone.”
The Baroness tsked, shaking its head.
Why should I kill for you? Violence is the way of savages. But then again, what more can one expect from humans.
It was drifting closer again before his second worst fear happened.
Someone knocked on his door.
“Oi, Richard. Come on man, you owe me~e~e. Hiding won’t get you far.” The voice was muffled behind the door, albeit distinct. The knocking got louder.
“Open the door your bastard before I break it open.” The voice continued. But the threats had a benefit. It drew the attention of the Fae off of him, causing them to turn around in a graceful motion, causing their dress and cloak to swish.
The knocking ended at this point. Now, something was pounding on the door. The wood gave way quickly to a giant fist covered in red skin. The rest of the arm forced its way in, before pulling the door back off its hinges.
As the dust settled, the now door-free doorway revealed two figures. A human and a demon. Mainly a very recognizable human. Bulky, bald, and with an eyepatch, the scars, and burns that covered their skin bespoke of a history of violence. Remi.
“Well, Richard, didn’t want it to come this way, but everyone has to pay up. Now, hand ove-”
While I am conducting business, every other obligation the other party has is considered null and void. Leave.
“Richard, what kinda malformed demon did you summon? Brute, take care of them both.” Remi's face scrunched up at being interrupted, before he waved a hand, unconcerned with what they heard. His own experience made him confident. Arrogant.
Their words were calm but there was a tone of unbelievable offense to them. They waved a sleeve, and reality had a dizzying moment of bending in on itself. Remi didn’t even have time to scream before multiple sets of poppies began to emerge from his orifices, dyed red by his own blood. Gurgling as plants grew out of his mouth and eyes, blooming at a rapid, unnatural speed. From his chest, a rose bush ripped out, the sound of flesh tearing and the crackling of branches juxtaposed with one another.
Copper mixed with sweet perfume seeped into the air, showing the demon suffered a similar fate. Their flowers were a hellish orange instead of a crimson bloody red.
Richard was currently in the process of keeping what scraps of lunch he had earlier in his stomach. The sounds were stuck on repeat inside his head. The tearing and the gurgling.
It is nice to change something ugly into something beautiful, yes?
He turned to face the Baroness. Their smile was the widest it had been yet. He slowly nodded, not trusting himself to open his mouth without hurling yet.
Wonderful that you agree. Now, that the interruption is over, we should return to business matters.
He found his words again. He had a slight cough.
“That, uh, was the business.”
The Baroness blinked, the first time it had done so during the entire meeting.
Oh.
It recentered its sights on him.
Well, it appears that you now owe me now instead. And remember, when I come knocking for business, I consider every other obligation null and void.
As they spoke, they leaned closer to him, to the point where he could feel their icy breath. They stood up straight once more.
Enjoy my parting gift, Richard.
With that, his attention was drawn back to the two bodies in the room. Or what was left of them. What remained was just flowers. In the back of his mind, something acknowledged the Baroness was right. They were beautiful. Their origin, less so. And then there was the fact the Baroness referred to him as name.
And as he expected, turning back, the Fae was gone. The mushrooms as well. And his protective circle. And all the other left over supplies that he didn't expend. Richard began massaging his scalp.
“Fuck.”